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lovebugism · 1 year

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Virgin!Eddie thoughts?

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure <3

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You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.

It’s actually much, much weirder.

It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.

Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”

“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”

“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended.

He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.

Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day.

Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.)

But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.

“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”

You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of.

And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.

You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.

“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.

“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”

It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.

Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes.

He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.

He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).

He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.

“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade.

That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?

From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”

“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”

He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.

“I’m kidding, Eds—”

Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.

“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”

“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.

Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.

A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.

“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”

Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.

“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”

“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.

You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.

It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.

It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour.

He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.

It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.

He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.

It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.

There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.

“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.

Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”

“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”

“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”

You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Cross my heart.”

“Fine.”

“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.

It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.

And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.

It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”

And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.

He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high.

He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.

It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part.

Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that.

That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.

He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.

It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.

He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.

He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater.

“I can come over tonight, if you want.”

No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.

“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.

“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.

As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.

Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”

“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”

He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.

Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start.

So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.

Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer.

At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.

“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.

“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”

He’s never been normal a day in his life either.

Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.

It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.

How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?

Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.

Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.

Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”

He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.

He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.

You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.

He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right?

He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.

He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.

He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.

You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.

“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.

“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.

“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”

You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.

It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.

Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.

You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.

Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.

You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”

“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.

“Cross my heart.”

He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.

The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.

That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.

The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.

Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.

Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.

“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”

“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”

“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”

Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.

“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”

“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.

“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.

“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.��”

Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.

“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”

You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.

Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.

He’s as shocked as you are.

He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.

You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.

Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.

You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.

He never does.

He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.

The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.

Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.

“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.

Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”

Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”

“Maybe.”

“So what’s the answer?” you pry.

“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”

“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.

“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.

“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”

So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”

You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.

“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.

He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.

You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.

He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.

He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.

His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.

Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.

But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.

It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.

Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.

Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.

For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.

A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.

He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.

“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.

“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”

“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his.

You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.

“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.

“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.

But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?

The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.

Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”

You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night.

Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.

“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”

It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.

Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth.

You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.

He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.

Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.

But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.

But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.

You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.

“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.

“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”

He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust.

You don’t need to know that, though.

“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”

have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #virgin!eddie munson #virgin!eddie munson x reader #st oneshots <3 #published by bug

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sturniozo · 2 months

Text

Our Lips Are Sealed V

Masterlist

“Call me Daddy one more time, Y/N, I fucking dare you.” Chris says over the phone.

I let out a laugh and roll on my side over the bed. “But you’re pretending to be my dad to help me.” I say.

“Do you actually call your dad daddy?” Chris asks.

I laugh again. “It’s possible.”

“I think you’re just trying to mess with me.” He states.

“It’s possible.” I say again.

Chris laughs. “Just try to be serious about this.” He says.

“Okay okay.” I say as I sit back up. “Daddy, I need to talk to you-“

“God damnit, Y/N.” Chris says which causes me to laugh again.

“What? I’m just trying to practice telling my daddy.” I shrug.

“Y/N, I can’t help you if you’re gonna keep doing that.” Chris groans. “Please be serious.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Chris says.

“I don’t know how to start.”

“If you didn’t spend the last hour messing around and joking with me, we’d have gotten somewhere by now.” Chris says.

I bite my lip. “I’m sorry.” I mumble.

Chris sighs. “No, it- I didn’t mean it like that. Let’s just start from the beginning.”

“Okay.” I take a breath.

“Hey dad…” I say as I pick at the chow mein noodles in my plastic box.

“Hm?” My dad hums in response, not looking up from his food.

“I thought about what I wanted to say.” I start. I take a breath and set down my fork, remembering what Chris and I had practiced.

“Well, what is it?” My dad asks.

“Well, my birthdays in 2 days so… I’ll be 18 then.”

“You wanted to tell me something I already knew?” My dad says, still not looking up from his meal.

“No, I- I just. Well I’ve graduated from school, and I’ll be an adult and I’ll have a job and-“

“This is still all things I already know. What’s the point of the conversation?” My dad asks.

I take a breath. “I’m not gonna be spending the weekends here anymore.” I say, looking down at the table.

My dad’s silent for a moment before asking, “After you find a job?”

I shake my head. “After I turn 18.”

My dad stays silent. He takes a bite of his own noodles and leans back in his seat. I stare at him intensely, waiting for his answer. My palms start to feel sweaty and my heart races.

“Okay.” My dad says.

“What?” I breathe out, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Okay. You don’t want to be here that’s fine. You don’t have to come here. I can take you home right now if you want.”

“No, dad that’s not what I meant. I-“

“You don’t want to be here. You’d rather be with your mother.”

“Dad-“

“I get it.”

“Dad please-“

“I don’t want you here either.”

My breath stops for a moment. I close my mouth and stare back down at my plastic box of chow mein noodles.

“You’re a lot- you’re just.” My dad sighs. “You’re nothing like I thought having a daughter would be.”

I stay silent. My food starts to look disgusting to me. My dad says nothing, starting to pick at the vegetables in his own noodles.

I get up from the table and walk away, down the hall and to my bedroom. I close the door behind me and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes.

I lay in my bed for what feels like hours when I feel my phone buzz under my pillow. I reach my hand under and grab my phone, staring at the notification from Chris.

Chris 💩💕

How’d it go?

I don’t answer, not even opening the message. I just slide my phone back under my pillow. I roll over to the other side, facing the wall and clutching my blanket over my body.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes my phone is buzzing in the same rhythm as before, and the sun had already set, leaving my room dark. I groggily sit up and take my phone out from under my pillow. 2 am. 14 messages from Chris, 36 messages from Nate, 4 missed calls from Nate, and Chris currently calling.

I lean my head against the wall and answer the call. “Hey.” I say.

“What’s wrong, what happened? Your brother’s freaking out you haven answered for hours.” Chris says.

“I fell asleep.”

“How’d it go with your dad?” Chris asks.

“Fine. I told him I’m not coming back and he was fine with it.”

“Just like that? He’s fine with it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s surprising.” Chris says.

I laugh. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

“So you’re coming back Sunday night?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“You should probably call Nate, he’s been freaking out.” Chris says.

“Jesus, I just fell asleep.”

“Yeah, but you almost never sleep at your dad’s house.” Chris says while laughing.

It’s true. This place gives me the creeps. The carpet, the walls, the bed. I just can’t seem to ever sleep here. “I was tired.” I tell Chris.

“Okay, well tell Nate that. I’ll see you Sunday.” Chris says.

“See you Sunday.” I say and hang up. I immediately go to call Nate, who picks up before the first ring is finished.

“Y/N, are you good?” Nate asks. “Why’s it take you so long to answer? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I told my dad I want going to be spending the weekend with him anymore.” I tell Nate.

“And? What did he say?” Nate asks eagerly.

I take a breath. “He doesn’t want me to come back either.”

Nate sighs. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

I shake my head. “He told me himself.”

“Those words?”

“Those words.” I say softly.

Nate pauses on the other side of the call. There’s nothing but silence from both ends for what feels like hours. Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t want to be here anyways.” I say back.

“I know, but I also know you’re not happy with this.”

I sigh. “I should have said it differently. I should have asked him what he felt before I said anything.”

“It’s not you, Y/n.” Nate says.

“I have a hard time believing that.” I say back. It’s always me. Every failed relationship with anybody I’ve ever known had been my fault. I didn’t communicate well, I didn’t understand, I didn’t get it.

“When are you coming home?” Nate asks.

“I’m not sure.” I respond. “Dad said he’d take me back today if I wanted, but that was at dinner.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’ll just go home Sunday night. I don’t want to bring anything else up to dad.”

I hear Nate’s breath on the other end of the call. “Okay.” He says. “Do you want me to stay in call with you or are you going to sleep?” He asks.

“I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.” I tell him.

“Okay. Goodnight, kiddo.” He says.

“Goodnight Nate.” I say. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He says back before hanging up.

Once the call drops, I immediately go to the contact I’ve hesitated to call so many times. The call picks up almost immediately.

“Hey.” Chris says. “What’s up? Did you talk to Nate?”

“Yeah I did.” I tell him.

“Is everything all right?” Chris asks.

“Yeah.” I say softly. “Can you… can you stay on call with me through the night?” I ask.

Just from the sound of his voice I knew he was smiling. His pretty smile that makes me melt every time I see it. “Of course.”

TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @urfavpouge @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @dwalk41202 @stvrnise @iloveneilperry @luvmxtt @blueeyedbesson @iloveurgf @mattswifr @that-chris-girl01 @sturniolho

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐋♡𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 [Intro]

"I dont care how many names you've screamed in the past; tonight, you're screaming mine."

Or alternatively: you're moving away in a week, and that gives Jungkook seven days to try and make you stay instead.

Tags/Warnings: Fuckboy!Jungkook, Fuckgirl!Reader, Angst, Misunderstandings, Friends/Enemies to lovers, Very suggestive, adult, hurt and comfort, smut, did I mention angst? It's worth it in the end tho promise

Length: didn't count I wrote this while watching anime oops

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Hello boo haha

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

There's not much you can really say about him that's not just absolutely confusing.

Well- maybe you also kind of are at fault for making things so confusing in the first place, because down the line, everything about this mess is kind of your own fault.

Jungkook knows you as loud, happy, sexy and open-minded. You dress like a barbie, you laugh without trying to appear a certain way, and you know when to act dumb to get your way. He also knows you as sexually adventurous, active, and open for everything if it fits within your own personal boundaries. He himself considers himself a hedonist after all- he chases the purest forms of pleasure, be it sexual or platonic. It's a little cute how he can find a certain sense of fullfillment and happiness from just being hugged or talked to- though you know that he's also very aware of his own charms, and knows when to weaponize them.

He takes good care of himself- something you don't see often to this extend in guys his age. They typically aren't at that stage yet where they realize that their body is something to be cared for to keep it healthy for a long time- and if they do care about their body, they end up almost obsessed with it, never thinking about anything else, suddenly only looking at everything from a purely aesthetic perspective.

He's odd. But in a certain way, he's exactly what you knew you'd end up crushing on. Hard.

And that's the problem. He really, Really wants to hook up with you.

Now that's good, right? Who would say no to their crush asking to fuck them- it's a jackpot, really, is it not? He's also very obvious with his interest beyond just sex as well- he constantly flirts, invites you to his place, or visits yours. He pays for any food you both get together, he visits the movie theater with you, holds your hand in a cheesy way just to make you blush, calls you baby, darling, princess and so much more. So what's the fucking issue?

The issue is that you're an absolute fraud.

You never have wild dates or exciting sex. You never actually experienced most of the stories you've made him believe, and you most certainly aren't more experienced than him. In fact-

you've never had sex. At all.

You're a virgin.

And Jungkook thinks you're an experienced sex-goddess. Because that's what you want him to believe. That's what you made him believe.

It really started with simple white lies- whenever your apartment was cluttered to the point that it made you embarrassed to invite him in, you'd just hiss out the door that you had someone over. Then it evolved into trying to impress him with made up experiences, just to fall into conversation with him.

And suddenly, it all got out of control.

Now you've created a whole entire persona that isn't actually real at all- and it seems like that'll ruin all your chances with him for good. Though, if you think about it, you have to admit, that if he fell for your made-up-character,

did he even fall for you at all?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I mean that's cool and all but-" Jungkook says as he walks next to you, hands in his pockets. "-how're you gonna travel every day from Seoul to Busan? That's two and a half hours with KTX." He mumbles, looking out for you by gently pushing you closer by your shoulder to make way for a bike riding past you.

You hate how domestic it feels. Like he's your boyfriend or something.

"Uhm yeah well-" you mumble, looking down at the tips of your babypink heels. "-that's why I'm moving. To Busan." You admit, and it's silent for a moment while you both walk around the park together.

You're not sure what he's thinking. Is he giving up? Sure, that would hurt, but it's also for the best. In busan you can start over, away from all the lies you've made up here-

"How can I make you stay?" He asks suddenly, and you re not sure if you've heard him correctly.

"What?" You ask because of that, and he shrugs.

"How can I make you stay?" He repeats. " I can't leave Seoul because of my job and all- but I know that you've got the option to stay here instead of being transferred to Busan." He explains. "I'm not sure why you want to leave, and it's none of my business- so instead I wanna know what I can do to make you stay instead."

"Why would I stay?" You just answer, hands behind your back as you jump a bit with every step next to him, trying to mask your nervousness with your usual childish acting. "You can just fuck someone else and forget about me." You laugh, when his hand reaches out to hold onto your bra strap, keeping you still as you stop walking. "Hey-!" You bark, until you see his face.

"I don't wanna forget about you." He tells you. "And I don't just want to fuck you either." He denies, looking at you now in a more serious manner.

"Well you're gonna have to." You shrug, crossing your arms.

"How long?" He asks suddenly, a challenging glint in his gaze as he crosses his arms as well, muscles in his arms defined as the fabric of the sleeves of his black T-Shirt stretch around his biceps.

"How long what?" You bite back equally as petty in tone.

"How long until you move?" He asks, chin up as he watches down towards you.

"A week-" you start, and he suddenly smirks impishly, before he reaches out to playfully tap underneath your chin, the gesture catching you off guard.

"That's enough time." He chirps happily, starting to walk again, a newfound confidence in his step.

"Enough time for what?" You wonder as you call after him, turning around to look at him.

"Enough time to make you stay." He boldly exclaims back-

Leaving you with an odd feeling in your stomach.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine

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joeys-babe · 7 months

Text

Joey B Imagines: Don’t Be Embarrassed

————————————————————————

summary: after a sex marathon with your husband joe the previous night, you head downstairs for breakfast and have a seriously awkward interaction with his parents.

(this is a tiny part 2 to - part one)

warnings: talks about sex, no actual smut

pairing: joe burrow x reader

————————————————————————

(y/n's pov)

when my alarm went off at 8, i immediately hit snooze.

i wanted to go back to sleep but remembered the plane that joe and i were going to have to catch in just a couple hours, so i slipped out of bed.

joe was still dead asleep, looking incredibly peaceful.. so i left him alone.

the first thing i did was get dressed in my traveling outfit, and putting my hair in a messy bun before i made my way downstairs.

"mommy!!" - savanna jumped off the couch and came flying towards you

"good morning sweetie, how'd you sleep?" - you picked her up and put her on your hip

"good, i had good dream." - savanna

"what was your dream about?" - you

"dada bought me puppy!" - savanna

"he did?? what did you name your puppy?" - you

"uh, i dont remember.." - savanna

"oh you don't remember.. okay. what would you name your puppy if you got one?" - you

"marr!" - savanna

"oh my gosh, you'd name it after ja'marr??" - you

"yup. put me down? i want to play with my barbies!" - savanna

"yes, of course." - you sat her down

i watched sam run up the stairs to her room before i walked into the kitchen. robin was cooking and jimmy was drinking coffee while sitting at the island.

when i walked over to the fridge to grab a water i noticed both of them giving me weird looks.

"what?" - you laughed nervously

"did you sleep good last night?" - robin smiled

"yeah actually, i didn't even hear you guys come in. i was dead asleep." - you

liar.

"mhm." - robin looked at jimmy for a second then turned back to you

this interaction was really weird so i was more than thankful when i saw joe walking downstairs and into the kitchen.

"morning guys" - joe smiled

"morning, joey!" - robin gave joe the same weird look

"what's that look?" - joe laughed

"nothing." - robin grinned

joe looked at me confused but i returned the look of pure confusion.

"did you sleep good?" - joe asked, trying to start conversation and end the silence

"mhm." - you pulled him into a hug

joe kissed my head, as i laid against his chest. robin and jimmy were still looking at us with weird smiles on their faces so we quickly pulled away from each other.

"what time did you two end up going to bed last night?" - jimmy

"uh, i don't really know. i was asleep before you guys got here. do you know?" - joe

"uh, nope." - you

"that's kinda weird because we heard quite the commotion last night" - robin

both joe and i tensed up, not knowing what to do.

"you guys know the guest room is right under the master bedroom, right?" - jimmy

"oh god." - joe sighed

"so you guys.." - you

"heard y'all? yup. coulda gone my whole life without hearing that." - jimmy

"oh my god." - you covered your face with your hands

"it's fine though, don't be embarrassed. it's not like we didn't know you guys engage in that.. activity. i mean you guys have a kid so we kinda knew.." - robin

"yeah you guys are married adults, don't be embarrassed. but, joe honey you sound like a cat dying.” - jimmy

"i don't think i sound that bad..." - joe mumbled

"he’s overreacting, joe. after i heard it though, and well realized what i was hearing i put my noice cancelling headphones on.” - robin

"all i had were pillows to put over my ears, thank god i was super tired and fell asleep quickly. i’d probably end up sleeping in the car.” - jimmy

"but really, don't be embarrassed. you guys are young and having fun." - robin

"okay, sorry about that though." - you

"it's fine." - robin smiled

"yeah guys, it's all good, i'm only slightly traumatized." - jimmy

"jim." - robin rolled her eyes

"as much as i'm loving this conversation about our sex life.. i'm gonna grab some toast and finish packing." - joe

"i'll be up there in a second!" - you told joe as he grabbed a plate of toast and started walking back upstairs

thank god that joe’s parents love me, plus i’ve already got the ring on my finger so there’s no getting rid of me.

————————————————————————

authors note: small little part two as a goodnight!!

hope you enjoyed! ❤️

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow series

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basichextechml · 2 years

Text

Beaded Curtains

Eddie Munson/Afab!Reader

Rating: Explicit // 5.8K words // Sub!Eddie, Dom!Reader, Pegging, Anal Sex, Porn Watching

Maybe accepting a sketchy vhs from Robin wasn’t your smartest move.

Or maybe it was.

A/n // I wanted to fuck this man. And not in the conventional sense. also shoutout to my baby girl @storiumemporium for being my beta 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

NSFW under the cut!

---

“Alright so this isn’t what you think it is-”

“You’re handing me porn.”

“Well, yes-” Robin struggled to explain, a vhs extended towards you.

You mentally scolded yourself for thinking ‘oh, I’ll just visit my friends at work, keep them company. This is a good idea’. You never imagined you’d come in and find yourself absconded by your best friend, chucked past the beaded curtain in the back and come face to face with the smallest adult film selection in Indiana. You should’ve just been a bad friend, moron. “But it’s not like- okay I’m starting over.”

You nod as if this conversation was anywhere near normal, eyes averted from the cover of the vhs where a woman nude from the waist up gazes up at you.

“So I was watching this, right, and the guy looks like Eddie so I had to stop,” She said, rattling the case towards you as if that answered anything.

Your brain was blank, your brows furrowed in confusion, and the only thing you could think to process was- “why were you watching porn?”

Robin deadpanned, looking at you as if you were stupid, “Oh I’m sorry I was unaware that fucking Hawkins, Indiana became a hotspot for lesbians. I like looking at the women in them.” She drawled, shoving the tape into your hands. Symbolically, it felt heavy, realistically, it was actually pretty light- and what the fuck were you gonna do with it? Luckily, Robin was telepathically linked with you in some weird way, answering the question without you having to voice your confusion. “Listen, I dunno man, you’re always talking about the new stuff you’re trying- so I thought maybe you’d wanna watch it with him?”

“Awwww.” You coo, “It’s so sweet how you look out for my sex life.”

Robin laughs, turning you around by the shoulder and pushing you past the beaded curtain back into Parentally Guided society, “Yep, it’s all part of my masterplan- get you so satisfied you stop talking to me about it. Now get out of here, my fifteen minutes are up.”

“Don’t I have to check this out?” You ask, but she’s still shoving you out the door, the heels of your boots digging into the gravel outside.

“Already did it, and I won’t even charge you a late fee,” she says, winking, before promptly shutting the door in your face. You bark out a laugh in the middle of the practically empty parking lot, a porno in your hands.

As you shut the door to your car, throwing the tape in the passenger seat, you hummed to yourself, eyeing the back of the tape. No sign of a man on it. Fuck, your curiosity was peaked. Did you really have to watch it? The subconscious part of your brain had already decided that for you apparently, pulling out of your parking spot and starting on the road down to Eddie’s house.

Guess you were watching porn.

---

Using your extra key to unlock the door to Eddie’s trailer, you ignored the baffled look on his face as you stormed in, quickly scanning the room and checking the bathroom to make sure that Wayne was gone. When the older man was nowhere in sight, you went around the entire trailer closing the blinds.

“Uh-” Eddie called out, looking up from where he was stationed on the couch to watch you tottle about, “nice to see you too, doll. You good?”

“What? Yeah, I'm fine- what makes you think I’m not fine?”

He gets up to pull your fingers away from where they’re fiddling with a window latch, “oh I dunno. You’re twitching by the way”

Huffing, you take up his spot on the couch, settling into the dent he had made for himself and pulling the vhs tape out of your bag to throw at him. Ignoring the way he fumbled before finally grabbing the box, you distracted yourself with the chips he had abandoned. Pointedly not looking as the couch dipped beside you, your breath hitched as he flipped the box around in his hands, the sleeve crinkling. “Didn’t think this was your style sweetheart, how come you didn’t clue me in sooner?”

He was mocking you, the little shit.

You narrowed your eyes, turning to look at the teasing grin your boyfriend was giving you. But if you looked close enough, a certain haziness clouded his eyes. “Robin gave it to me.”

“Oh? Should I feel threatened by Buckley?”

“She said the guy in it looked like you, so she gave it to me.” You said, taking the tape back from him and moving off the couch- whatever confidence you had mustered pushes you towards the tv to sit in front of it, fiddling with the box before popping it open. “I was hoping that we could watch it together?”

You didn’t have to turn around to know what sort of expression Eddie had on his face, you could imagine it from the small groan he let out, and the rustle of the couch from him sliding down and spreading his legs to relieve the pressure his sweatpants put on him. The VCR clicks as it accepts the tape, and you grab the remote on your way back to the couch. Eddie accepts you with open arms, practically pulling you into his lap as you get settled, his arm curving around your waist and his hand finding its home high up on your inner thigh, squeezing you as the film started.

“Holy shit.” You swore, mouth open in shock. “He really does look like you.” Pulling back from Eddie’s chest, the scrunched expression on his face made you laugh.

“I don’t look like that.”

“You totally fucking do.”

Of course, it wasn’t uncanny, but the similarities were there. The same long, shaggy brown hair, the big brown eyes. The actor's lips were a bit smaller, his face a bit rounder, but if you squinted you could definitely see why Robin felt the need to turn it off. “Hmm, I must say though,” You drawled, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw, “I think you’re much more handsome.”

The look he gave you was electric, lips pursed to a smile as he nosed at your hairline before giving you your own kiss, “Oh do you now?”

Your response was cut short by a moan on screen, only realizing that you both had been neglecting the film. Your gaze flickered back to the tv before-

What?

What the fuck?

It wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before, your eyes glued to the screen as the woman who had been on the cover of the tape loomed over her male counterpart, one hand spreading him open as the other glistened in the low-light, working in and out of his ass.

“Fuck sweets,” Eddie chokes out, his grip on your thigh tightening, the metal of his rings digging into your skin “Didn’t know you wanted to swap-”

“I didn’t know!” You lurched for the remote that sat just far enough out of your reach to be comfortable, attempting to grab it, but Eddie’s arm stayed firm around your waist, keeping you in place on his lap. “Eddie let go- oh my god-” The moans the man on screen kept letting out became exponentially louder, and the fact that he looked like Eddie was really throwing you off- because his partner was practically bending him in half.

The camera zoomed in on the space where the actors connected, a flesh colored dildo attached to the woman by a harness, the lube that coated it shining and squelching between their bodies as they moaned. Eddie’s hand once again squeezed down on the meat of your thigh, a squeak of surprise squirming from between your lips as you jolted, legs coming together and pinching at Eddie’s fingers. It was only then did you notice the ache inside of you.

You didn’t even know that- that people could do that.

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking, I can practically hear the cogs turning in there,” Eddie mumbled, low and close to your ear. That wasn’t fucking helping. “You into this doll?”

Though you didn’t respond, Eddie could tell you were, in fact, into what was happening. The way your pupils blew out, the clench of your thighs, the pure heat rolling off of you in waves. There was confusion too, and if he thought about it, that was to be expected. It’s not like you were innocent when you both met, it just didn’t occur to you that something like this was an option. You didn’t think to ask, didn’t know where to look.

Now you did, and by the way Eddie was pawing at your sides, he would definitely be up to help.

He watched as you bit your lip, and excitement bubbling deep within him as you finally drew away from the acts on screen, looking up at him in hesitance. But you trusted him. This was your Eddie, you knew he’d never make fun of you for being… into something out of the ordinary. It was practically his social brand.

“Yeah,” You said, a lilt to your voice, a wavering confidence you hadn’t yet fortified. “Yeah I think I’m into it.”

Like a cat that caught the canary, Eddie grinned, leaning down to kiss against your neck, basking in the way your breath hitched and your body melted. “You maybe wanna try it? I’m all up for you manhandling me, sugartits.”

Snorting, you pulled away, your nerves fizzling out as you held your boyfriend at arms length, “If you ever fucking call me that again, we’re not doing anything.” Finally grabbing the remote, you pressed the off button, throwing it somewhere else across the couch. Mentally reminding yourself to not forget the tape when you left, you turned back to Eddie. “But yeah, I think… I think I might wanna try something like that.”

---

You fucking hated driving- and you fucking hated that in order to get anything, you had to drive all over fucking Indiana to fucking find it.

You had driven four hours to Bloomington. Four.

Cranking the AC, you glared at the huge, black, nondescript, plastic bag in your passenger seat. Finding everything you needed was hard. Finding the right stuff was even harder. Eddie had told you some things- stuff he’d seen in magazines, tidbits of things he’d learned by himself. You’d, of course, done your own research, a fair share of time spent in the anatomy section of the library, browsing through magazines- fuck, you even wrote to an advice column that you’d found in a BDSM magazine, and man, was it difficult to even find where they sold those things. Thank god for anonymity. But it was all culminating at this very moment. Four hours away from home, in fucking Bloomington.

As you merged onto the freeway, the world’s worst road trip looming on the horizon, you managed your breathing and thought of what you were doing this for.

Your really, really cute boyfriend spread underneath you.

---

Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, you think to yourself, back resting on Eddie’s bedroom door as your fingers fiddled with the lock. Eddie on the other hand didn’t seem to hold many reservations, digging through the plastic bag you had placed on his bed.

You had stopped home before coming over, freshening up, making sure everything fit, cleaning certain things. And now it was happening. You were gonna do this. Pushing off from the door, you sit down on the bed, looking into the bag alongside Eddie.

“I got the right stuff, right?” You ask. Eddie grins, holding up a bottle of lube.

“Sure did- how’d you know this brand was my favorite?” He goaded, dropping it back into the back before getting into your face. You scoffed, heat rising to the tips of your ears as he nudged your noses together, your hand pushing against his chest.

“Because you told me, jackass.” Enjoying the way he giggled, you feel your confidence returning, egged on by the hands greedily pulling you closer. His hair fanned out beneath him, taking a moment to appreciate it as you pressed your lips to his- well, that sounded gentle. It was more of a clash, something eager and familiar in a night that was bound to be anything but. Eddie let his hands roam, the heavy touch you craved petting over you, pressing into areas that made you keen, opening your mouth up for him just a little more. His fingers traced down your chest, migrating naturally to the edges of your shirt, beginning to tug it upwards.

He let out a whine of confusion as you pulled away, “I thought I was in charge tonight?” You question, keeping your hand firmly on his chest.

Now, million dollar question, was Eddie listening to the words you were saying? The answer was no- not when you were so utterly distracting. Your kiss bitten lips and ruffled hair drew his focus, the way your hands settled over his chest, your thighs squeezing his hips. A pitiful Huh? Is all he can manage.

Rolling your eyes you settle back on his lap, a firm look on your face. Eddie can feel his blood rushing south as you grip his wrists, pulling them from your waist and pinning them to the bed. “I’m in charge tonight.” You reiterate, despite his unfocused grin. The moment you let go of his hands, they’re back on you, tugging at your shirt and trailing up your thigh.

You suck on your teeth, obviously displeased as your boyfriend tries to lean up to nose at your neck. His back hits the bed again, opening his mouth to plead his case, the need to feel you still twitching at his fingertips, “C’mon sweetheart- I swear you can be in charge, scouts honor- Just lemme get that shirt off of you-”

Eddie’s snark was cute- if only because it showed off that he was just as, maybe more, nervous than you. The flicker of his eyes as they took in everything that was happening, occasionally darting to the black bag that still sat on the other side of the bed. The tips of his ears red hot, his tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip. Fuck. He was so fucking cute. And despite his obvious conflictions, he jabbed “Thought you were in charge, doll- what’s the holdup?”

“For someone just meant to sit there and take it-” You drawl, grabbing his jaw to tilt it up, baring his neck to you, “-you’re talking quite a bit.” His pulse quickens, you can feel it beneath your tongue, laving at the artery at the side of his neck. A steady thrum of support to know that you were going in the right direction, that what you were doing was making him feel good. A pitched groan escaped him as you shifted in his lap, grinding your hips down onto his clothed dick. This part was familiar. A repeat of hazy summer nights or rainy afternoons. When you had time to take it slow.

The unfamiliarity would creep up soon, however. Crawling down your spine as your hands trailed up his, encouraging him to arch away from your touch so you could pull his shirt up. The faded, black material bunched around his armpits, his hands- having remembered the implied no touching rule- bunching up the sheets of his bed in anticipation. You paused for a moment, at a temporary loss. Normally, you were the one laid out beneath him like this. Racking your brain, you recalled your past endeavors.

What would Eddie do?

You made contact with his doe eyes, wide and blown with anticipation as you slowly lowered yourself, molding your chest to his stomach. He recognized this.

“You gonna-?” He asked breathlessly.

You hum, nodding your head as you blew lightly on the pink skin of his nipples, “ ‘m gonna play with your tits, alright pretty boy?” Your hands come up to grip at the little muscle he has in his chest, pushing it together in a way that he normally did to you. Eddie was sensitive- the feeling of your thumbs brushing over his nipples causing him to keen- his back to arch needily against your hold as you collected spit in your mouth. Your tongue, practiced and concise, brushed over his left nipple. The eye contact you held intensifies the stimulation of your mouth closing in on him.

“Ouch- fuck!” He curses, hips involuntarily bucking up into your clothed cunt. “I don’t bite you!”

“Yes you do, baby,” You reply cheekily, tongue tracing the divots your teeth had left in his pec, “leave me all sore and bruised, don’t you think it’s only fair?” You can feel the way he groans in response, the sound reverberating from his chest into your jaw. You hum, switching to his other pec, peppering it with little love bites as your hand slowly draws downwards. The lithe planes of white hot skin giving softly beneath your touch, grazing the beginning of Eddie’s happy trail. Your mouth quickly followed your hand, nipping at the sensitive skin of his ribs and kissing at his stomach. Pausing for a moment, your eyes flickered up to Eddie, waiting for any reticence- and when you found none, you pulled down the sweats he had on.

Leaning back on your knees, you take a deep breath, hands settling to the curve of where Eddie’s hips met his thighs. You pointedly ignored how his dick twitched at the somewhat tame contact. “Alright baby, uhm-” the plastic bag crinkled loudly as you reached for it, pulling out the plastic bottle of lube. “I really need you to tell me if I do something you don’t like, alright? Just say so at any point and we’ll stop, no matter what.”

Eddie’s light hearted laugh was nearly drowned out by the sound of the cap being popped, and the protective seal being peeled away. “Yeah, alright doll- I’ll tell you to stop doing something that’s got me harder than-” His sentence was cut by a warbled moan escaping his throat- your hand, slick and warm, wrapped tightly around the base of his dick.

“If you can’t be serious,” You said, your grip tightening ever so slightly, “Then we’ll stop, got it Eds?”

He let out a moan as you pumped him slightly, his head falling back as his words skipped, “Yeah- fuck- yes, I’ll tell you- ‘swear, so please just touch me.”

Well, since he had asked so nicely.

You began to pick up speed, wrist flicking on every upward stroke. The squelch of your touch was obscene, everything slicked and gliding, your thumb flicking up to play with the underside of his head in a way that you knew kept Eddie’s nerves alight. His skin was raised as your lips kissed the apex of his thighs, the lithe muscles flexing as you dipped lower. The whine he let out caused you to moan against him, heat spreading through your center as you sucked a hickey into the inside of his thigh, kissing at the sensitive skin. It released from the suction of your kiss with a pop as you mumbled softly.

“You can touch me now.”

Almost immediately, his hands let go of his sheets, coming down to caress the crown of your head, his hands shaking as your own gripped the bottom of his thighs, just below the curve of his ass. As you pitch his legs up, the crook of his knees falling to your shoulders, you look up.

Eddie’s eyes, filled with a haze of lust, search yours for any sort of apprehension- a que that maybe you didn’t want this as much as, seemingly, he did. You only smiled, something soft and placating, as your fingers trailed down his inner thigh and ghosted across his perineum. You took a deep breath.

“ ‘m starting now, okay?” You promised, and for the first time in maybe the entire time you’d known Eddie- he was silent.

It wasn’t as satisfying as it should’ve been, and deep in your chest, you had the primal urge to hear him cry.

Dipping your head down, you took him into your mouth, wrapping the tip against the plush of your lips and cradling it with your tongue. You can feel the legs on your shoulders relax, a shaky gasp crawling from Eddie’s lips- and only then, do you push your middle finger into him.

“Shit! Fuck-” Eddie yelps, thighs coming up to bracket your face as you panic. Sirens go off in your head- and even as you try to pull back, Eddie’s legs keep you firmly in place, his ankles locking together at the small of your back.

“I’m sorry!” You cry, hand stilling inside of him, warring with yourself internally as to if you should keep your finger inside, “Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?”

Eddie groans, throwing his forearm over his face as his hips flex up into your finger. He’s warm around you, and you can feel him clench down, squeezing your finger in a way that lines up with his anxious breaths. “Nope,” He whines, “ ‘m peachy- it’s just- fuck, sweetheart, not used to having something up there.” Eddie takes a moment more, withdrawing his sweaty forearm from his face and threading his fingers through his bangs, his cheeks and forehead bright red.

He looks angelic.

You want to kiss him- but you know you can’t, with the angle you were in not very forgiving. So you just have to wait for his ok. The hand that isn’t currently up his ass comes up to massage his thigh, hoping to ease some of the tension.

“Alright-” He sighs, looking at you through his fingers, “I think ‘m good, think ‘m cool.”

“Yeah?” You giggle.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” and you begin to move again, wiggling your middle finger before slowly pulling out. You shift back, putting his hips on the bed as you push in again, building up a steady rhythm. You’re only spurred on by the noises Eddie’s making. High pitched, guttural groans as he grinds against the finger you’re giving him, tiny chants of Please, please, please, filling the air. Grabbing his left leg at the knee, you spread him wide- eyes lidded as they take in where you’re connected.

“So quiet, Eds,” You tease, curling your finger up, hoping the anatomy textbook you read hadn’t lied to you, “You take me however you please- but you’re crying at a single finger?”

“Fuck! Holy fucking fuck- there- right there, doll- oh my god-”

His hips buck into you, stuttering as he lets out a sharp, loud moan, the sound echoing off his bedroom walls. Your finger glides over a certain spot smoothly, and with every press his hips jolt, and his whines grow louder.

Your grin is saccharine and dripping as you pull your finger out again, only to press back in harder, the staccato of his moans filling your ego and sending it bursting through any inhibitions you may have had. He was feeling good. Really good- and you were the one making him feel that way.

Eddie felt the way you moved inside of him so sharply that he felt the movement was etched into him. Everytime you hit that- that spot- he felt like he couldn’t breathe, his legs going numb as you bent over him, the dim lighting of his room and the pleasure being inflicted upon him marring his vision as you dealt him little kisses.

The people of Hawkins thought him a cult leader. That wasn’t true in the slightest, even if he occasionally played into the notion. But maybe, with the nudge of your ring finger sliding into him along with your middle- he might actually become a cult leader. He’d definitely print shirts of your face. Maybe your hands.

“Feels good-” He finds himself babbling, fingers cupping your chin to bring you closer to him, words being spoken against your lips, “feels real good- is this what you feel like? When we- ohhh shit-”

Three.

You’re at three fingers.

“Not really, you’re much bigger than my fingers,” Your purr reverberates in his ear, the unexpected praise going straight to his dick, translucent pearls of precum rolling off his choked head and landing on his happy trail.

He can feel everything- hear everything- and it’s all getting mashed together until he gets tunnel vision on you. Your kind eyes, your mean grin- your fingers, glistening with lube working in and out, pressing on that spot over and over again. He can feel it in his nerves- lighting him on fire.

And despite it all- despite his brain melting- he bites out, “Well shit, doll. You holding out on me?”

Maybe it was a ploy to get you out of your clothes quicker. Maybe he really did want a taste of his own proverbial medicine. To feel how you felt when he carved himself into you, whispering dirty secrets or proclamations of love into your ears, your cheeks, your chest. You clamored off of him, muttering a curse as your foot caught on the edge of the bed, your shirt already being thrown to the floor.

Eddie somehow managed to move up to his pillows, moving them around some and falling back to watch you discard your last piece of clothing- your underwear.

The black plastic bag had been completely wiped off the bed as you pulled out a mass of leather and a sizable rectangular box. Untangling the harness, you began the attempt of pulling it on and adjusting it. It was… a learning curve.

“Don’t look at me. This is embarrassing,” You snapped, struggling with the straps. Eddie snorted, the sheets ruffling.

“I dunno, I kinda like my little mountain climber.” He quipped, narrowly dodging the dildo box you’d thrown at him. He knew by the click of everything coming together, that he was screwed- perhaps a little too literally. Whatever inkling of nervousness left in him fizzled out once you crawled back onto the bed, settling in front of him, your hands on his folded knees. “How do you want me, sweetheart?”

You thought back to the first time you’d ever felt like this. In this very bed. With this very person. The first time you had ever had sex with him.

He’d have to forgive you for emulating it now.

“I want you on your back.” You said finally, your hands crawling inwards to spread his legs a bit, keeping your eyes on his face.

“Yes ma’am.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to let the jab slide, grabbing the lube that had been previously discarded at the end of the bed. Eddie chose to embrace the way you lubing yourself up really turned him on, kicking the back of your hips softly to get you to hurry up, impatient of a man as ever. Blessedly quiet was he as you lined up to his entrance, hand guiding you home as your other intertwined with his. You squeezed his hand reassuringly, thumb tracing over the back of his own as you mumbled encouragement through his grunts and whimpers, trying not to wince at the whines. Though, when he only had a little left to take, Eddie gasped sharply, your head snapping up to look at his glazed eyes and drooling mouth.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

He shook his head, hair slapping against his face and sticking to his cheeks from the sweat, “nuh uh.” He protested, bringing your joint hands down to his dick, “I just- fuck sweetheart- just need a sec, kay?”

Pumping him a couple times in reprieve, he relaxed for a moment, eyes fluttering closed, his legs untensing around you. Smooth in all senses, you finally slid the last inch in, grinding the harness of your hips slowly against him, heating rolling off of him in waves. A waterfall of desire pulling you closer to the man you loved as he got used to taking in all of you. Your eyes didn’t stray from the way he gripped you, hole clenching and unclenching around you.

You’d go insane, you decided, completely and utterly insane. Is this how Eddie felt? Watching you take him? All of him? You ground yourself against him a little harder, the roll of your hips causing him to twitch and yelp at the friction. How did he get anything done? You wanted to stay like this forever, blushing and crying beneath you.

You gulp, kiss bitten lips and reverent eyes finally looking at Eddie.

“Can I move?”

“Please.”

As you slowly dragged your hips from him, strap sliding out, the lube stringing- you wished you could feel how warm he was on the inside. You’d have to make do with the sight of him gasping your name as you pulled out again.

You went slow- trying out different angles as you pushed back into him, brow furrowed in a sort of concentration that Eddie would’ve thought cute if it weren’t being targeted at his undoing. Your hands, soft and promising against his, release his hold and find a new home on his hips, pulling him down to meet your thrusts.

Eddie can feel it- small jolts of pleasure snapping through him in places he hadn’t ever known existed. It fucking rocks- and he needs more, your hesitant, explorative thrusts inhibiting the winding ball in the pit of his pelvis. “C’mon, you can move, won’t break you know?”

His resolve flickered when your eyes met his again, and for a split second he saw something a little darker than normal, your grip a little tighter on his hip.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Want you to give it to me as good as I give it to you, alright?”

Eddie made this grave, he might as well lay in it.

And fuck, he might really be sent to the grave.

You were brutal in the way you began to use him- your angles from exploring before hinging his downfall, the force and pressure unwinding him from the inside out. Everything seemed too much yet not enough. The heat of your thighs sticking to the curve of his ass, the way your right hand forced his knee up- he didn’t even know it could go that high. Open and spread, Eddie felt vulnerable for a split moment. And then he felt his heart swell, right alongside his dick. You gave this to him all the time. You trusted him like this, in a way he might not have considered. You loved him. He loved you. He loved you. He loved you.

He really loved you when you hit that spot inside of him again, he could’ve sworn his vision blanked for a moment.

“Shit shit fuck- feels so fucking good baby. I can feel you so deep, ah, fuck- like you’re in my stomach-”

“Yeah? Feels good?” You cooed, reminiscent of all the times he had teased you as he split you open. “Doing so well- so so so well- for me babes. Such a pretty boy letting me open him up like this- You’re perfect aren’t you? So perfect.”

Eddie honestly to god giggles, his hips inadvertently rolling upwards to meet your thrusts, clammy hands reaching around the back of your neck to pull you forward. Your noses brush against each other as he mouths against your lips, “Aww you’re sweet on me, that’s embarrassing, doll.”

You thrust up particularly hard as you connect your lips, swallowing the moan you had wrenched out of him, forcing his hips up to find that spot you had before. Eddie full body shudders when you find it- letting out a noise you didn’t even know he could make as you pulled back from his saliva covered lips, watching the way tears pricked at his lashes with a sick sense of satisfaction. “I dunno babe, think you’re a little sweet on me too.” You jab, pulling away from his wandering hands as your own slips beneath his dick, pressing against a spot on his lower stomach. He all but keened, back arching into your hand. You could feel yourself moving inside of him- the action causing the pit in your stomach to grow steadily.

The faster you went, the harder the harness pressed against your own bundle of nerves, edging you closer just as Eddie came undone beneath you. It only egged you on, your release becoming second priority.

“Fuck fuck fuck- Think I’m gonna cum-” Eddie moans, breath hoarse as his hands grip the pillow beneath his head, trying to find leverage as his eyes snap shut, lips pursed.

“Good,” you say absentmindedly, stamina wearing thin as you push his legs wider. “Good boy- you can let go, ‘promise you’ve been so good- so cum.”

And he does. Just for you, all prettily on your dick. You’d give anything to feel it, but you’d have to settle for your own release rushing over you as you grind into the harness, hand scrambling to pump Eddie through his release. He curses throughout the entire thing, his smart mouth reduced to nothing but drivel as his release splatters across his stomach and rolls down his ribs in rivulets that soak into his sheets.

You both stay like that after it’s all past. Panting heavily into the air before you decide to finally pull out, the movement bringing a broken whine from Eddie’s throat. Your mind, clouded in the afterglow, searches for a familiar thing that normally comes around now- yet you’re blanking. It’s only when Eddie’s legs twitch and fall to the side, his drying cum going with it, are you broken out of your stupor, mumbling softly that you’ll get a rag as you press a kiss to his sweat covered temple. The kiss is far too chaste for what you had done.

I’ll have to thank Robin, you think to yourself as you turn on the sink and retrieve a washcloth.

---

Family Video doesn’t technically open until 9. But you know that Robin has to be here at 8 every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to check inventory, so you make sure to show up early with breakfast and the vhs that started this all tucked firmly under your arm.

“Stop fucking banging on the door! You’ll break it!” Robin chastises, unlocking the door and pulling you in before clicking the latch again.

You shove the food into her hands, and she moans dramatically at the smell of hash browns and an egg and cheese breakfast sandwich from the seedy diner down the street. “Shut up, you literally wacked Steve’s head against it the other day- surprised it didn’t shatter.”

She stifles a laugh between bites, trailing to the counter to set down her coffee. You put the vhs tape next to it, pulling out your own sandwich. Humming in acknowledgement, she nods towards it. “So I assume it worked out? Took you a while to bring it back.”

You wonder vaguely if she knew about the actual premise of the film was, deciding that if she didn’t, it was better to keep it vague.

“I brought you breakfast, didn’t I?”

#what's a better way to introduce myself to a fandom than through porn?#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #sub!eddie munson #reader insert #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction

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polyklok · 3 months

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Omg omg i love your writing!!! No words can describe how much I love it!

Imagine muderface with a s/o or crush that says the weirdest stuff, like some stuff that they have been through. It is so random! Like those tik toks that say "the Egyptians believed the most significant thing you could do is die" in the most randomest of situations.

Like imagine just chilling out doing nothing and y/n looks over at muderface and says "would a zombie apocalypse be a formal event? Like your buried in your best clothes?"

It woukd very so cool if you could write something for this but if you don't want to that's cool!

Just wanted to share my thoughts. No one I know watches Metalocalypse.

Thank you!!!

Have a wonderful day or night!!

(I didn't really check my grammar or spelling that well, I am sorry)

Murderface with an S/O that says ~random~ things!

“The color is actually named after the fruit.”

You baffle him daily. He never asked to be spoonfed random trivia, shower thoughts, or absurd hypothetical questions. And yet, here he was, eating it all up.

When William was first met with your verbal hijinks, he was just so, so confused. Why did you know this? Why were you telling him this?

“What?”

“Orange. Like, people just described the color as yellow-red or something before the orange fruit was spread around Europe and they got a new word for it. The color is named after the fruit.”

“…Okay???”

For a while, he thought you were trying to give him clues about something. He was just extremely suspicious of you. Like, surely there had to be a reason behind it, right? Well, no, and he soon just found it was a quirk of yours.

He was always told to shut up whenever he tried to pipe in or had an interesting fact to share, so you defying one of the fundamental rules of his life is a bit jarring.

As he grows closer and more comfortable to you, he gets used to your pondering and even begins to consider them. Maybe you have a point?

“What’s the minimum amount of ducks do you think it would take to fully kill an adult rhino?”

“I don’t fuchkin’ know. Probably a schit ton.”

“I bet, like, five. They’d just swarm him.”

“You are scho wrong. He’d schtomp them all to a pashte.”

Well now he’s gonna stay awake all night thinking about it. He can’t decide if you’re the stupidest person he’s ever met or the smartest. Either way, he gets a little flustered when facing the seemingly infinite expanse of your mind.

After a while, he begins to pick up your habit. In his own Murderface-way, of course. He had a pretty obvious interest in things like car mechanics and war history, but now he’s more willing to share all of what he knows with you. He’s really excited that someone finally seems interested in what he has to say, no matter how meaningless it is.

And once that door is open, he becomes more willing to open up on a deeper level. Even though he’s a dumbass, he does have a depth of intelligence, even if he isn’t great at articulating it. Be patient and you’ll get some fascinating conversation from him.

“Even if there isch a God…like, what the fuck, man?! You juscht gonna leave us all down here to suffer and schit? I might as well ignore you juscht to schpite you! What a dick move.”

William never realized how valuable it was to him just to be listened to. Simply talking to you slowly becomes one of the better parts of his day, everyday.

It takes a lot for Murderface to love and it takes even more to love him back. But the effort is well worth it with these types of riveting discussions;

“You have to fight a bug that’s 100 times its original size and you get one weapon from the medieval era. What is your bug and what’s your weapon?”

“Easchy. Butterfly, Croschbow. One arrow for each wing. Instant win.”

#polyklok is real #metalocalypse #dethklok #dethklok headcanon #metalocaypse headcanon #william murderface #metalocalypse x reader #request filled #metalocalypse murderface #murderface x reader #william murderface x reader #i love you murderface but writing your speech is murder

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milfgyuu · 2 years

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What’s My Age Again? Pairing: Wen Junhui x Fem!Reader Tags: 8.9k, F2L, Fluff, Crack, Humor, Smut 18+ Summary: Wen Junhui is sort of a dumbass but he’s your dumbass and you’ve come to realize that you like him just the way he is.

A/N: this was 100% inspired by me obliterating my vocal chords in the car to “What’s My Age Again?” by Blink182 - also, apologies in advance my friends....Jun was perfect for this story and i lowkey have temporary romantic feelings for him. shhhh. temporary.

Warnings: [Sexually Explicit Content 18+, MINORS DNI] the mc/reader is bisexual! language, adult themes throughout, protected sex (mxf), oral (f/m), face sitting (f), sixty-nine (spongebob voice), lots of gentle bullying between friends, threatening someone with peanuts.

The light tapping of your finger nails almost matches time perfectly with the clock on the wall.

You’re on your regular night shift which could be worse, but as it stands, it’s just a whole lot of standing around and doing nothing. Yo-Nuts - as ridiculously stupid as the name sounded, was actually pretty popular…during daylight hours.

A combination frozen yogurt and donut joint that stood alone on a quiet corner didn’t really attract much attention at night but the owner was one of those generational money kids who built the place on a whim after a night of the munchies for two very specific things that weren’t typically available at night.

Frozen yogurt and donuts. Yo-Nuts. Points for originality.

You also can’t complain because you’re working with your designated himbo, per usual. Jun is one of those really tall, really good looking nice boys who are especially…dumb but in a likeable sort of way. He’s goofy and a little immature but you enjoy his company. The long quiet nights are filled with laughter, conversation, and a lot of shit you probably shouldn’t be doing while getting paid - most of which Jun instigates.

“Hey,” you hear from somewhere behind you, “Psssssssst!”

You put your phone down and look over your shoulder to see Jun across the store holding a glazed donut up to his mouth, flicking his tongue through the middle suggestively, like an idiot.

You snort but pretend to be unimpressed and he, very briefly considers putting the donut back before tossing it in the trash. The boss let’s them eat whatever they want anyway so it’s not like anyone is truly caring for the inventory numbers. He comes up to the counter where you’re sort of monitoring the floor and leans down to whisper, “When do you think that guy will leave?”

“He’s gonna ask for more gummy bears, bet.”

Jun holds out his hand immediately. “If he leaves without asking, you have to lick my armpit.”

You give a look of thinly veiled disgust, “You’re so weird,” and then slap your hand into his, “If he does, I’m giving you a wedgie.”

Jun’s nose crinkles as he thinks about the last time he lost a bet with those odds. His ass crack was scarred for life, but Jun also had a plan this time around, “Deal.”

His efforts were amusing to say the least.

It was mostly just him sitting behind the counter trying to make direct eye contact with this poor man sitting alone in the shop, trying to enjoy his fro-yo in peace. Every time he looked up, Jun was somehow in his line of vision. Cleaning a table, examining a sprinkle, spritzing a window, hovering around floor like an absolute creeper. He got distracted though.

He’d found a dollar bill on the floor under a table and the guy got up and beelined it toward the counter. You painted on the friendliest smile when he asked for extra gummy bears and wished him well on his way out the door. For some reason he thought his treat was better tasting at home. Probably because he wasn’t being stalked while he ate it.

Jun caught the interaction just as the customer was leaving and he sulked across the entire empty shop, heavy feet stomping each step of the way. “How come you always win?”

Laughing, you circle the counter and Jun takes a careful step backwards. “Have mercy on my cheeks,” he begs, “I wouldn’t actually make you lick my pit had I won!”

“Yes, you would have,” you step closer and jump at him, making him squeal a bit, “Don’t drag out the torture. Bring that ass here boy.”

“What if I'm not wearing underwear?” He giggles, backing into a table and jumping out of the way, “Didja ever think about that?”

You back off and smirk, walking back toward the counter, “It’s fine…I don’t mind waiting and catching you off guard. Let you slip into a false sense of security before I destroy your ass.”

His face drops and he automatically clenches out of fear. “Ohhh,” he blows out with narrowed eyes, “You’re pure evil.”

You smile angelically and then tilt your neck sharply like a broken doll, and Jun shudders, very slowly and wearily joining you back behind the counter you’ve perched on. He offers a very tiny smile like a white flag and you grin, keeping him on his toes.

“Soooooooo,” he drawls out, “Pretty sure Rin is never calling me back…”

Rin is the super hot girl Jun’s been talking to lately and she is so far out of his league it’s insane. She drives a brand new Audi and owns her own clothing line but apparently she likes funny guys and there is anyone doofier than Wen Junhui. Again, dumb but objectively attractive. The thing is, she is just way too mature for him. She’s running a high-end business and he works in a fro-yo shop and thinks butt jokes are still funny.

It’s too bad Rin’s not into girls.

You sigh, unsurprised. “What did you do?”

Jun’s face falls and he purses his lips, “Why do you always assume I did something?”

You merely blink back and him and he deflates. “I think she wanted to have sex with me and I screwed things up.”

You automatically laugh and he whines at your reaction, crying about you never taking him seriously. You choke down the laughter but can’t dim the smirk upon your lips, “I’m intrigued, please,” you gesture to the empty space between you, “Paint me a picture.”

Jun leans against the opposite counter, sighing as he recounts the details. “I took her out last Friday and we had dinner and then she said she wanted to come hang out at my place so we went home and we were watching a new movie,” he gets distracted and then really excited, “You know that Blissful Revenge movie I wanted to see, right?”

You nod amusedly, of course. He’s talked about it for weeks.

“So, we were watching it and she kept getting closer which is like cool, I like to snuggle, and then she started kissing my neck and you know how ticklish I am so I kept laughing and she stopped. Then she climbed on my lap and blocked the whole tv and we started making out but I think she saw that I kept trying to look around her to watch the movie and she got pissed and left,” he grimaces awkwardly, “I asked if I could walk her to her car and she said no. So, I stayed inside and watched the rest of the movie by myself.”

Riveting. “Was the movie good?”

His face lights up, “Dude, yes it was amazing! The graphics were so much better than the last movie and it was like a hundred times more gory,” he spreads he hands out and smiles serenely, “Blood and guts, everywhere.”

“Hey,” you look at him curiously, waving your hand, “Come here for a sec…”

Jun looks worried and touches his face then his hair and moves slowly towards you, ‘What-”

“Hold still,” You caution him and as soon as he’s close enough, you reach around and smack him in the back of the head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You ask incredulously, “You have hot and horny girl in your lap and you’re too busy watching tv?! You’ve fumbled the bag, severely. Idiot.”

Jun winces and rubs his head, mussing his hair. “I just don’t get why we couldn’t do it after the movie was over…”

You roll your eyes skyward, begging aloud for Rin to just give you one chance. One chance is all you need to treat her right unlike this towering doofus in front of you.

“Jun,” you say with an incredible amount of patience, “Are you a virgin?”

He narrows his eyes and scoffs, “No.”

No elaboration, interesting.

“Do you like having sex with hot girls?”

He snorts, “Uh, obviously? Don’t you?”

You jut out your chin sarcastically, “Obviously,” you roll your eyes, “And I’m way better at it than you apparently. Do you, like, not know how to tell if a girl is horny? Or into you, in general?”

Jun says nothing but he opens and closes his mouth a few times, scoffing and walking in circles with his hands on his hips, occasionally bringing one up in the air like he’s about to make a point and then lowering it again without a word.

“Dude, you don’t know how to read women at all, do you?”

He finally sighs and dejectedly slumps against the counter next to you. “Women are so beautiful and so mysterious,” he groans, “They don’t talk with their words. How am I supposed to guess what they want?”

Another incredulous look crosses your face. “Her kissing your neck, climbing into your lap, and initiating a make-out session was not clear enough body language for you?”

“We were watching a movie!” he shouts word for word.

“No,” you loudly correct him, “You were watching a movie. She was trying to fuck you! If there is one thing women hate most, it’s being ignored. Especially when they’re trying to initiate intimacy. If she walked out, I can almost guarantee this has happened before with you.”

He seems contemplative but then a couple walk in and you paste on your customer service face and greet them, taking their order. You and Jun work in relative silence, passing things back and forth to each other then to the customers and they leave, emptying out the place once again.

“So, that one time I asked her to watch me play video games and she kept trying to take off my pants…”

He ducks as you throw a handful of m&ms at his head and shouts, “WHY?”

You glare at him and point at the floor, whispering threateningly, “Pick those up,” before he’s running for a broom and dust pan.

He sulks around the shop while you hide in the office, choosing to kick your feet up on the desk and watch an episode on Netflix. Jun is made to watch the floor as punishment for being a dumbass. He has to reflect on the consequences of his actions.

It’s not long before he’s poking his head into the office, a pout plastered on his useless lips. “Whadda you want, virgin?” you ask without looking up.

His forces a teeny, feeble voice and bows his head, “Teach me your ways, sensei.”

You pause your show and look up with a flat face. “I’m not taking on new students.”

He drops to his knees and you both grimace at the crunchy sound they make. “I am begging you,” he shakes his hands, pleading, “I will do the floors and bathrooms myself for a month!”

You narrow you eyes and he folds, “FOR ETERNITY!”

Sighing long and hard you set your phone down and adjust the computer monitor so you can see the front doors should someone come in. “Listen and listen well, young grasshopper. Today is lesson one in ‘How not to be a clueless, immature loser’, ok?”

“You’re a goddess,” he sags in relief, snickering when you sharply tell him to shut up.

And this is how you spend your shifts for the next few weeks, with Jun following you around asking questions and giving hypothetical scenarios. He attempted to rekindle things with Rin, but she’d long since moved on to a much older man with a private yacht and fat 401k. Poor kid hadn’t stood a chance.

He hadn’t really made an effort to see anyone else either, which you pointed out one day.

“You know,” you twirl a strawberry glazed donut around your finger before taking another bite, “You ought to be putting my incredibly wise and carefully taught methods into practice. What’s the point if you stop talking to girls all together?”

Jun scoffs and spreads his arms, balancing half his weight on the broomstick in his hand. “I have been trying,” he complains, “I hooked up with this girl I met at the club and when I texted her the next day, like you said, she ghosted me.”

You hold your eyes shut for a very long time and poke your tongue in your cheek. “Ok,” you blink, “Walk me through it.”

“We danced-”

“Skip ahead, Jun,” you huff in frustration, “Your place or hers?”

“Mine.”

“I offered her a drink and asked if she wanted to play video games.”

“Christ…okay. Then what?”

“We played Mario Kart and she sucked,” Jun answers with a frown before perking up like he’s about to deliver the good news, “Then she asked if she could blow me and I said yes!”

“Thrilling,” you sip from your near empty drink and gesture for him to continue, “And did you pay attention to her?”

His smile falters and he chuckles awkwardly, “She wasn’t very good at it and seemed kinda irritated that I didn’t have a better reaction but like, isn’t it rude to fake it?”

“Did you attempt to help her in anyway? Remember the whole communication thing?”

“I was going to but then she gave up and it was kind of awkward so I suggested we go to my room to bang.”

“Verbatim?” you nearly choke on your donut, “You- nevermind,” you hold your hand up, “How was the sex?”

Jun shrugs, “Fine?”

“Fine?” you repeat, “What does ‘fine’ mean?”

He scrunches up his face. “She was so boring. Dead silent, missionary, lights off.”

You frown in thought, “That is boring,” you shake you empty cup and Jun takes it from you to refill it, “This one sounds like it’s not one-hundred percent your fault.”

“I didn’t even finish,” he laughs, handing the cup back to you, “I asked if she wanted to stay and chill but she said she didn’t think we really had anything in common so she just kinda left.”

“Why did you ask her to stay if you guys didn’t hit it off?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, “It felt yucky asking her to leave after we hooked up.”

“Oh, Jun,” you pout your lip out sincerely, “You’re many things, most of them being dumb, but you really are a sweetheart. I’m beginning to think half your problem is that you’re going for the wrong type.”

He accidentally bumps the register and the cash drawer comes flying out, the corner of it nailing him in the hip. He bows over and you scramble off the counter. “Shit, are you okay? I told Jim to fix the fucking drawer!”

You tug his shirt up and sure enough there is a small cut, purple and angry. “Ouch,” he says dumbly but you’re already dragging him to the back office by the arm, grumbling about giving your manager an earful when you spoke to him next. Jun patiently waits as you slam drawers and cabinets until you find a first aid kit and start grabbing things out of it.

“What do you mean I’m going for the wrong type?” he asks, wincing when you dab his cut with alcohol as gently as you can.

“Well, I don’t think you’re shallow or anything but you like pretty girls and most of time, the ones you pick, have nothing in common with you, interests or personality wise.”

“Soooo I have to find a girl who likes all the things I like?”

You snort. That’s a unicorn of a woman. “No, just find a girl who likes you for you, stupid. Someone who cares enough about you to be interested in your hobbies just because they make you happy and understands the way your tiny brain works.”

Jun hums in thought as you smooth a Band-Aid over his cut with your thumb softly. He glances down at the crown of your head and his eyes widen in shock and sudden realization .

“Like you…”

You pick your head up. “What?”

“You like me for me-”

You stand up and put your hands out about to cut him off but he advances on you, thoughts spewing from his lips in a mad dash to spell out the connection.

“You like me even though you think I'm dumb and immature. You always laugh at my jokes and listen to me talk about all the stuff I like and we play games together and you like the same kind of movies! Plus, you’re the only girl who didn’t think my collectables were weird! We have so much in common!”

“Yeah!” You shout back in a panic, “We both like girls!”

“I know! We’re perfect for each other! Wait- I thought you were bi…”

What the fuck is happening?

“I am but I haven’t been with a guy in…years,” you let out a breath as Jun takes a step back, “I’ve had like a handful of experiences with men and they’ve all been super disappointing. I haven’t even been interested in a guy because wait-”

You point your finger at him accusingly, “Are you my designated golden retriever boy?!”

Jun points to himself questioningly, “Is that a thing? I’m more of a cat gu-”

“No, no,” you push past him and start your closing duties, rushing to be finished and get out of the shop, “We’re not even entertaining this train of thought. Go do the floors.”

He purses his lips and swallows at your frantic movements deciding it’s probably in his best interest to just do as he’s told…and quickly.

He rushes around speed cleaning the floors and taking the trash out while you shut everything else down, which is relatively easy. You do get stuck counting the cash deposit four times though. Too easily distracted by your errant and wholly ridiculous thoughts. Twenty minutes later, you're locking the doors while Jun rocks on his heels, hands dug in his pockets.

“I’m sorry for making things weird,” he says quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfy.”

You drop your head, still facing the door before forcing yourself to turn and look at him, “I’m not upset with you, noodle head.”

“Promise?”

He sticks out a pinky and wiggles it.

You snort and then link your own. “Promise.”

Jun grins and bounces on his feet, “Cool. Wanna come over and watch scary movies?”

It’s one o’clock in the morning but you’re not tired and Jun is actually your favorite movie buddy because you both can talk through it without missing anything and critique the plot the whole time. Plus, he has comfy clothes and good snacks.

“I get your Karasuno hoodie.”

“Deal.”

“Dude,” you snort, biting off another piece of your sour gummy worm and twirling it around, “Can you believe they cut her out of the last film?”

Jun tosses his head back, “Right?! She was one of the best characters and her arc was trash. It was such a waste.”

He attempts to reach for the bag but keeps missing so you grab a hand full and shove it in his mouth, both your eyes still glued to the screen. It’s pitch black in the room aside from the tv and you’re both huddled up on Jun’s couch bundled in his hoodies, pajama pants, and blankets. Plus the Snorlax plushie you stole off his bed. It’s so stupid soft and squishy.

The table is littered with snacks, candy, empty noodle cups, and your bra which you carelessly ditched early on. Comfort was key on movie nights and Jun never once made it a big deal.

When the credits finally roll Jun claps like a buffoon and laughing, you stretch our your limbs, your tendency to sit like a pretzel making your joints stiff. He turns and holds up the remote. “One more?” he asks hopefully.

You hum, indecision splitting your mind. You do want to watch another but you know you’ll be too tired to drive home afterward. It would have to wait for another night and you explain as much. Jun pouts for half a second, but he never makes you feel bad when you decide to go. He grabs the things from the table and carries them all back to the kitchen while you stuff your bra and uniform into your bag. You’d bring his clothes back another time.

When Jun returns, he meets you at the door and prepares to walk down to the parking lot with you, an oddly endearing habit of his you’ve always liked. You go to grab the door handle but something makes you turn around and look at him.

He smiles back at you even though he’s not sure why you’re looking at him in the first place and a sudden curiosity overcomes you.

“Can I try something?”

“Uh,” he tilts his head in confusion, “Yeah?”

You slip your hand up to the back of his head and pull him in, pressing your lips against his...just trying it out. Jun’s hands come up in surprise but he just holds them over your hips, not quite touching you. When you pull back you just look at him, your eyes flitting from his deep brown eyes to the little mole near his lip.

“Was that weird for you?”

“No,” he shakes his head slowly.

“Ok…coo-”

Jun presses you up against the door, kissing you harder while his hands slip beneath the hoodie you’re wearing, stroking your bare skin. Your bag falls to the floor and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, sighing into his mouth just as his tongue prods along your bottom lip. He folds over you, caging you in and gripping your hips, growing more enthused with each swipe of your talented tongue against his own.

“Bedroom?” you ask between kisses and he doesn’t even answer. He simply picks you up like a cardboard standee and carries you the short distance to his room, not bothering to close the door. Instead of setting you down, like a normal person, he shifts your weight to one arm while clearing space on his bed with the other before dropping you onto the mattress with a little bounce.

“I thought you didn’t like boys,” he smirks, tearing his hoodie off and throwing it to the floor while you do the same and Jun doesn’t even pretend to look anywhere other than your bare chest.

“I don’t,” you maneuver out of your pants just barely fast enough before Jun is on the bed, hovering over you with a grin.

“Just to be clear,” he wiggles his pelvis against yours, “I have a dick.”

“I’m aware, thank you,” You snort, knocking him off of you just so you can swing a leg over his hips and smirk down at him, “Big dick and no brain cells.”

You slip your fingers beneath his waistband and run them back and forth, tickling his skin and making him giggle. Your nose twitches, smiling hard at his stupidly endearing reactions. You were so hard pressed to just admit that all the immature, boyish characteristics that made Jun who he was were some of your favorite things about him.

This...whatever it was...is physically driven but the rest would certainly cloud the forefront of your mind come tomorrow morning.

Jun startles you out of thought suddenly, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you down until your chests are pressed together, faces mere inches apart. His thumb strokes over your cheek and you peer back curiously. “I wanna kiss you again,” he whispers.

The admittance is so soft and genuine you can’t help but ask why.

He blushes and teases his tongue at the corner of his mouth, “It’s exciting,” he breathes, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting, “Honestly, I’ve thought about kissing you before but I was afraid you’d punch me or something.”

“Wait,” you push yourself up onto your elbows, “You’ve wanted to kiss me? When?”

He hums in thought for a minute. “Uh, anytime you’ve ever laughed at my dumb jokes, rolled your eyes at me, or called me an idiot.”

“I do those things all the time.”

“Yep.”

“So…you…?”

He nods resolutely, “Yep.”

Jun groans at the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest, your hands in his hair, your tongue dipping past his lips and he wraps his arms around you, blunt nails scratching at your sides. He sucks down air when you pull back, eyes unfocused from your sudden, overwhelming kiss and you flick him in the forehead, sighing down at him. “How dare you make me feel feelings for a man,” you chuckle, kissing the same spot, “You big dummy.”

He laughs in response and you release a strangled shout, holding on for dear life as he flips you over with a devilish grin and wastes not a second before he’s kissing and giggling his way down the length of your body. He reaches the front of your panties and looks up, tilting his head.

“I will crush your head between my thighs right this second, Junhui. Try me.”

“I’m just taking a moment to appreciate,” he marvels, running one finger down the imprint of your folds through the soft material, “Also, don’t threaten me with a good time. I love your thighs and would gladly beg for death right this second if I wasn’t about to suffocate myself in your pussy.”

Not a single woman you’d ever been with paused to say such ridiculous shit nor has any other man bothered to sound so enthused about giving head and it just another box only Jun could check for you apparently. You sigh as he crudely pushes your panties to the side but not a moment later he’s looking at you again, eager hands stretching the material unforgivingly.

“Sit on my face.”

Your neck cracks as you look down at him incredulously, “Sorry, what?”

He grins curiously, “Sit on my face, please.”

“I-” he begins putting everything in motion, tearing off your panties, “I wasn’t looking for the magic word! You…Wait-” he keeps you moving, manhandling you into a sitting position despite your babbling, “You told me you’ve never done this-”

“I haven’t,” he confirms, shimmying further down the bed to work you up and over his shoulders.

“J-Jun!” you shriek as he lifts his head and kisses your bare pussy, “I’ve only done this once with an ex-boyfriend and it did not go well!” your voice catches when he kisses you again, humming happily between your trembling thighs, “Thick girls are not made for face-sitting!”

At that, Jun stops what he’s doing and glares up at you with contempt for whichever sad bastard put that idea in your head. “And I’m the stupid one?” he mumbles under his breath before softening his face, “Do you trust me?”

Your nails dig into his hands at your hips. “With most things, no.”

He rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up,” and then he’s squeezing the junction between your hips and thighs, pulling you down onto his mouth - his hot lips kissing a sucking every ounce of hesitance away until your melting against him, struggling to hold your own weight up.

“Oh, fuck…you,” you groan when he flattens his tongue against you, eyes soft and hazy as he savors and worships his mouthful.

How Jun has ever managed to turn a girl off with this sort of talent is shocking but perhaps that’s why they stuck around as long as they did. They were more interested in his bedroom ability then any of the silly things that came out of his mouth. It makes you sort of sad and then Jun’s rolling his tongue against your clit and dragging you back and forth over his face like a deviant and you can’t seem to focus on how much of an L these girls took anymore.

The sensation has you squeezing your thighs unintentionally, squishing Jun’s cheeks between them and he groans, hands kneading your soft legs and hips. “How…are…you even…still b-breathing?”

Making him laugh is a mistake, kind of, because the vibration it causes sends a tingle up your spine and a hearty moan spills from your lips and that’s just when you give up. You give up trying to carefully hover over him. You give up clinging to some semblance of dignity. You give up the charade of acting like you don’t want to ride his face because you do and all the little poisonous bubbles of self consciousness floating around in your head begin to pop and disappear, and when you slip your fingers into his hair, he moans against you.

Jun gives immaculate head. You’re more than qualified to judge that.

Speaking of…

“Jun,” you attempt to get him to open his eyes but he’s too engrossed in making out with your pussy like it’s prom night until you pull his hair a little harder than intended and he blinks up at you. It’s almost embarrassing how messy and wet his face is when you pull off of him and he starts to complain but you carefully spin around, placing your knees on either side of his head so you can lay your body along the length of his and push down his boxers.

“Sixty-Nine,” Jun chuckles, grabbing a pillow to prop his head closer and then he’s reaching for your hips again, “Cool.”

You blink eight more times than necessary and swallow the laugh building in your chest to instead take him in your hand. It almost feels foreign, having been so long since you’ve actually let anyone with a cock near you but Jun’s is not half bad. More than decent length, a little bit of girth, hint of a curve - if anything your just intrigued by the fact that you had actually wanted to see it, touch it, put it in your mouth and see what sort of reaction Jun had when you teased it.

His tongue playfully pokes at your clit the same time you lean down and circle yours around the tip of his cock and he sighs against you, warm breath making you roll your hips back against him in time with the way you take him in your mouth, experimenting to figure out what makes him happiest. Judging by the hands on your ass that squeeze and flex when you take him as far as you can and come back up to suckle on the head, that’s probably his favorite.

It gets harder and harder to maintain a pace the more enthused Jun becomes, especially when he pushes two long fingers into your cunt, lapping at your throbbing clit over and over. No doubt, on the list of reasons why Jun’s relationships never worked out - giving out orgasms was not in the top ten because when your legs begin shaking around him and his cock pops out from between your lips on a long moan he flattens his tongue and drags it back and forth messily until you’re cumming hard and collapsing on top of him, head rested against his thigh.

“I can’t see,” you murmur as Jun gently rolls you over, giggling at the empty, fucked out expression on your face, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Mmm,” He hums with a goofy flat smile, “A bit dramatic but I’m flattered…so, uh, do you wanna just like wait here while I,” he points toward the bathroom and you furrow your brows, “And then we can watch youtube or something?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows and give him a funny look, “Are you going to jack off in the bathroom? Alone?”

Jun opens and then closes his mouth and then opens it again, ”Well…I, yeah I’m mean unless you wanted to like…should I not?”

“You’re the eighth wonder of the world,” you shake your head, chuckling in disbelief, “Do you not want to have sex with me?”

Jun’s eyes widen, “What kind of question is that?”

“So, you’re not having sex with me right now because…..?”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to,” he answers right away and you have the sudden urge to both smack him upside the head and kiss the living daylights out of him.

The latter wins out and you press your lips to his sweetly, your hand gently cradling the side of his head and you pull back to meet his eyes. “It seems as though we still have a few lessons to go on ‘how to read women’. Letting a girl ride your face for twenty minutes while she sucks your dick is pretty indicative that she’s into you and also in the mood to have sex. If you still can’t tell…it’s okay to ask.”

“Should we start over?” He asks already reaching for your body and you laugh swatting at his chest, “I’m kidding!” he grins and then his voice is so quiet and sincere, “Are you really sure? We don’t have to-”

“Jun,” you stop him with another kiss, “I’m sure. Do you have condoms?”

He scoffs, “Of course I do,” and then he’s getting up out of bed and opening the first drawer of his dresser, pulling something from the back corner.

“....Is that a poke ball? You keep your condoms…in a poke ball?!”

The red, white, and black ball is all too familiar and Jun turns toward you, splitting the ball open and flashing a gold wrapper in your direction. “Uh, yeah,” he whispers, “Gotta catch em all.”

Laughter spills from your lips freely and Jun grins so hard his cheeks hurt because you actually appreciate his juvenile sense of humor unlike every other girl he’s ever dated. Maybe you were right and he’s been going after the wrong type all along and maybe he’ll be lucky enough to be given a chance to prove how perfectly suited the two of you were for each other.

He realizes it’s something he really wants to put effort into and something clicks in his brain. A memory of the two of you at Yo-Nuts, talking while you tossed gummy bears at Jun one at a time for him to catch like a seal, most of which bounced off his face. You had told him that if he really wanted something, if he truly desired to pursue a real relationship, then he had to put forth the effort.

Pay attention to her, really listen when she speaks, let her know you’re there for her, lift her up, make her laugh, make her feel appreciated and understood.

It had sometimes felt like a chore and one mostly unreciprocated.

Except when it came to you. It was so easy and he realized that not only did he freely do these things for you without even knowing but you did the same for him. The teasing and name-calling was all surface level and never intended to be hurtful but beneath all that, Jun knew how much you cared about him. He just never considered there could be a different side to this relationship and now that he sees the potential…

“Jun,” your voice suddenly pierces through his hurricane of thoughts and feelings and he blinks rapidly as you look up at him in concern, “I lost you for like a solid two minutes. Are you okay?”

He shakes his head and laughs it off, “I’m good, sorry. I was just- nevermind…conversation for a different day I think. Did my zombie trance kill the mood?”

Your tongue pokes between your lips in amusement and you slowly shake your head, “No, but it wouldn’t hurt if you hurried the fuck up and played with my tits while you’re at it.”

If his dick wasn’t rock solid already, it is impossibly so right now.

He fumbles with the wrapper, pulling out the condom and rolling it over himself with record speed and then he’s pressed against you, pushing your thigh up, fingers imprinting your skin. The weight of his cock between your folds makes you swallow hard and he uses his free hand to squeeze and knead your breasts, rolling his thumb over your nipples as he coats himself in your wetness, tip poking at your hole.

You accidentally hold your breath when he breaches you slowly, trying to ease his way between your tight walls without hurting you or going cross-eyed at the pressure himself. “Are you okay?” he asks about half-way in, pausing to let you take a deep breath, “Not that I think I have like the most massive dick on the planet bu-”

“It’s f-fine, I know what you mean,” you let out a strained huff of amusement, “It’s still a big dick and the only one that isn’t made of silicone or attached to a body in some fashion that I’ve had in a long time. I’m appreciative but I’m okay - this is okay, Jun.”

The reassurance comforts him and he carefully pushes forward until he’s bottomed out but he doesn’t sit still, instead he starts a slow, shallow sort of rhythm, watching your face with each stroke, still massaging your breasts in one large hard while the other remains firmly attached to your plush thigh. He watches, waiting for that little bit of tension to melt from your features and when it does, he doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, drawing his hips back further and driving them home deeper.

Jun can’t get enough between the soft faces and pretty sounds you make, and the way your tender flesh feels beneath his fingers, taking handfuls and drowning in just how much he wants to touch you and please you. Never has he been so utterly enthralled in a partner and maybe that’s because there is so much more than sex involved in your relationship.

He knows he’s slipping right back into dangerous territory but he can’t help it.

Especially not when you reach down to play with your own clit, big doe eyes trained on his, long delicate lashes drawing his attention to your flushed face.

Jun is pretty sure he has never been so excited to cum in his life though he wouldn’t dare voice that, lest you mock him for eternity. He doesn’t really mind though. He sometimes thinks he has some masochistic kink considering the amount of times he’s popped a boner over your smart mouthed, half-hearted insults.

“I think I'm in love with you,” he breathes out accidentally, brain too full of lust and hot air to filter what comes out of his mouth.

“I think you’re thinking with your dick,” you all but moan back to him, cutting your breath short when he pushes both of your legs forward, pressing down on your thighs to angle your hips up.

Jun smirks which is a stupidly hot look on him. “Ah, but my dick and my heart are very closely connected.”

“Guess that makes sense since you have no brain.”

“Shut up.”

You do the opposite, however, no real words come out. Only incoherent strings of encouragement or flat out begging that you will refuse to acknowledge and deny until the end of days pours from your open lips with a clear end in sight. All it takes is a few more rough strokes and he’s pushing so deeply inside that your body gives up and orgasms so abruptly that Jun jerks forward, emptying himself into the condom almost violently as he shakes and groans.

There are several long extended moments of silence as you both attempt to catch your breath and figure out what to say to one another. He attempted to pull out at one point but even that brief bit of movement sent a shockwave through your body and you tugged him down to lay on top of you, forbidding him to move with a barrage of intricate threats.

The problem is that five minutes later, Jun is now too comfortable and half asleep and you’re smooshed under his long, lanky frame.

“Jun,” you mumble against his throat, making him wiggle, “Jun, you need to move.”

He giggles but it’s more so a physical reaction than anything else because his neck is so ticklish and he whispers back, “Noooo~ stay…”

“I’m not leaving dummy,” you roll him onto his back, shuddering at the sudden empty feeling, “We both need to get cleaned up.”

He hums, eyes still firmly shut and you roll your own toward the ceiling. “If you sleep with a condom on your dick will lose circulation and fall off in the middle of the night.”

He springs out of bed so quickly he nearly knocks you over but he grabs the blankets and folds them over you so you don’t fall off the edge as he trips and nearly eats the ground. Finally steadied, he grins down at you and offers a hand up, “I would feel like a loser if it was anyone other than you who witnessed that.”

“You are a loser,” you smirk, “Kind of a hot loser though.”

Jun tilts his chin up confidently, “She loves me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“She does,” he sings, pulling you toward his bathroom, “Do you wanna have a sleepover?”

“No.”

“Ok, perfect! I like to cuddle!”

And then fifteen minutes later you’re both passed out in Jun’s bed - snoring and all. You’re not the prettiest sleeper and neither is he and you’re definitely both waking up a little sweaty because Jun sleeps like an octopus, clinging to you with long limbs no matter how many times you accidentally elbow him in the gut. It’s comfortable though, too comfortable, and that’s something you’ll be thinking of for the days and weeks to come.

“Smash or Pass,” Jun tosses his wet rag in the sink, just having finished cleaning the toppings counter during your usual night shift a few weeks later, “Edward or Jacob?”

You scoff, keeping your voice down considering there were actually a few customers that had rolled in. “Pass on both,” you wipe around the register, throwing your rag in the sink next to his, “The correct answer is Jasper and all other options…other than Alice…are invalid.”

Jun nods slowly, “Smashhhhh...you’re right,” agreeing with your answer and then he shrugs, “Jacob was hotter than Edward - kinda creepy though like no means no….and don’t get me started on the whole renaissance thing.”

You snort, loudly, he avoids saying the kid’s actual name at all costs and the replacements are always top tier. “Wait - who is the ultimate twilight smash? 3-2-1…”

“Charlie,” you both say at the same time, grinning at your cultured tastes.

“Ultimate smash number 2?” he asks and you both respond, “Sam,” within a matter of seconds.

Jun laughs, a hand on his hip, “I don’t know what it is but you just get me.”

You chuckle, turning away from the counter but it ends in a frown when you dip your finger beneath the material of your shirt and find a fro-yo stain at the bottom. “Junhuiii~” you sigh without looking, “I’ll brb, gotta go see if I can rinse this stain out.”

Jun nods and busies himself organizing the donut display though there isn’t much to organize. The pace at night is either steady or so quiet there isn’t much to maintain unlike the day-time rush. The two of you have things pretty spotless by the time you leave each night.

The door chimes and Jun looks up with a big smile on his face that drops into an awkward tight grimace.

“Oh, hey, Rin,” he greets as his ex-something, they had never actual had a label, approaches the register “N-need a donut?”

Rin smiles and leans on the counter, “Long time no see, Wen Junhui. You haven’t returned my call.”

Jun looks out into the dining room as if some random patron can save him from the awkward situation but alas, none jump to their feet. “You didn’t leave me a message…”

He chuckles nervously and presses his finger to the counter, “You know…beeeeeep.”

She blinks long and hard, attempting to squash her temper. “I see you’ve grown so much,” she sighs to herself and then schools a smile onto her pretty face, “Anyway, we should go out, catch up over dinner…how’s tomorrow for you?”

“Uhhh, don’t you have like a guy, like a boy-,” he’s kind of old, “Man, uh, friend?”

Rin shifts uncomfortably, “David isn’t the jealous type and besides,” she leans in further and reaches for Jun’s arm, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hey, did you call for me?” you say suddenly and Jun turns to find you coming up to his side, pulling his arm out of reach with wide eyes and a sigh of relief. Rin retracts her hand and glances down at your fingers ghosting over Jun’s, narrowing her eyes.

She points her manicured finger in accusation. “Are you two together or something?”

“Yes,” you say before Jun has a chance to answer and his eyes grow wider if possible, not leaving your face for one second as you glare at Rin across the counter.

Rin laughs and you smile. “Jun, go check on the security cameras in the office.”

He stares at the space above your head for a moment then looks back down with furrowed brows, “Wait, those don’t wo-”

“Right, they don’t work,” you drawl in a flat tone, still staring at Rin who seems to be losing a bit of steam, “Must have forgot. Go sweep.”

“But-”

“Junhui,” You look at him with a tight smile, “Go sweep.”

He wearily shuffles away and you set your eyes back on Rin. “What are you doing here?”

“Look,” she flips her long hair over her shoulder condescendingly, as if she’s about to impart you with real-world wisdom, “Girl to girl, he’s hot and a great lay, but save yourself the trouble. He’s a man child who cares more about his little dolls and made up characters than he ever will about you.”

“Oh? Is that why you were here trying to ask him out again?”

Rin’s mouth falls open slightly and she goes to speak but you beat her to it.

“Because your super mature, rich, sugar daddy boyfriend is what? Incredibly sad in the sack?” you grit your teeth, frowning in faux-sympathy, “Probably only talks about golf and sailing and 401ks, huh? Lasts like 10 minutes and grunts a lot, hmm? You must be so bored.”

Rin gets angry but she doesn’t yell, too aware of the other people within earshot if she were to raise her voice. “At least he pays attention to me and cares about things other than movies and video games! Dating Jun was like babysitting an overgrown teenager!”

You place both hands on either side of the register, “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re a boring, vapid bitch and you have nothing in common with Jun - who is incredibly thoughtful and intuitive with me by the way,” you narrow your eyes and whisper, “Sounds like that was a you problem - and now you’re here thinking you can walk right in and have him back? As if what? He was just waiting for you to call him back to your side? Like a dog?”

She opens her mouth to argue and you hold up a hand, “Listen, Rin, you’re a smart girl, so I know you’ll understand when I tell you that if you attempt to disrespect Jun like this, ever again, I will shove a fistful of crushed peanuts so far down your throat that pretty face will swell up before you reach the door.”

Rin gasps in horror and you tilt your head, “What? You thought Jun wasn’t listening when you mentioned your deathly serious allergy the first time you met? Ah, it seems he does pay attention - not that you cared enough to notice even though he refused peanut butter everything, which he loves, from the moment he met you, always asked if things were made with peanut oil, etcetera, god forbid he hurt you in some way for being exposed himself.”

She stutters, “I…I d-didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t,” you come around the counter and Rin backs toward the door the closer you get, “Now get the fuck out of my building before I-”

The words fall out in a shriek of surprise as Jun runs up behind you, loops an arm around your middle and picks you up, quickly carrying you back behind the counter, “Bye Rin!” he says hastily, “You probably shouldn’t come back…like ever!”

A few customers stare at Rin who quickly disappears through the doors and to you being physically escorted around the counter and out of sight before they go back to their treats. It’s too late for them to make it their business it seems.

Jun doesn’t put you down until you’re in the tiny back office and once he does you cross your arms, “What was that for?! I was handling it.”

He flashes a smile and then rushes forward to kiss you, clumsily running your back into an old filing cabinet but his arms are there to cushion the blow and you’re too busy thinking about how soft his lips are to complain about anything at the moment anyhow. Eventually one hand cradles the back of your head and he eases back, giggling at your closed lids. “Thank you for sticking up for me,” he says quietly and you pop your eyes open, looking back at him.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper, eyes caught on the sincere smile he offers.

Jun lets out a little puff of amusement. “So, we’re together?”

You groan, pushing him back though he clings onto you, unwillingly to let you get away so easily, “I was just saying that to make her leave you alone. I told you we’re not dating.”

He furrows his brows teasingly, “Seriously? I put on the sexy maid costume for you and we had an hour long discussion about pegging. We’re totally dating.”

Laughter knots your stomach and you try to wiggle out of his long arms, “You liked it more than I did, rat boy! Let me go!”

“No!” he struggles to hold his grip on your squirming and twisting, “You’re so cute and I wanna hold you!”

“We’re working!” you hiccup after giggling so hard, “Unhand me you cheeseball!”

Jun suddenly lets you go but catches your hand, grinning like a fool. “Say ‘Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with’ and I’ll let you go.”

You mumble a bunch of words under your breath and tug your arm to no avail, “Wen Junhui, loser extraordinaire, is sort of good looking-”

“And?” Jun raises his chin, eyes peering down patiently.

“- And maybe, is my friend boy, that I l-”

“Love,” he fills in, nodding as he feeds you words.

You fake gag, “Love…in a totally platonic way-”

Jun gasps and your eyes light up, “Liar!” he laughs, “Say it!”

You’re such a liar and you both know it. It’s been weeks now that you’ve practically been attached at the hip - going out, staying in, watching movies, playing games, talking and laughing all the time. Not to mention you’re in his apartment in a t-shirt and underwear more often than you’re in your own these days.

“Having a boyfriend is really going to kill my game with the ladies but I guess if I have to have one, you’re the best option and maybe I do love you just a little. Like the smallest amount. A crumb from the world’s tiniest cookie. Microscopic. I barely like you.”

Jun beams, “Good enough for me,” he loosens his grip and you walk back up the the front to check on things. You’ve both been gone a little too long.

“Since you’re my girlfriend can I call you cute names? Baby, sweetheart, honey, angel,” he offers and you look over your shoulder with a grimace, “Lover, goddess, beloved mistress of the night…”

“Jun…those are terrible and I'm going to drown you in strawberry fro-yo if you do not shut up or if anyone on this god forsaken earth ever hears you call me those things out loud.”

“Yes, my beautiful rat queen. Whatever you wish,” he bows comically and you flap your hand loose from his grip, running back up to the register but Jun is never more than three feet behind you. “Hey, you’re still coming home with me right?”

You ignore him, aimlessly poking at the screen and he leans beside you, still whispering discreetly, “Mingyu finally let me borrow his guitar hero because I told him it’s your favorite…and it’s the original…”

You finally look up at him and he grins, knowing he’s got you.

“Jun is my cool, hot boyfriend that I’m totally in love with,” you murmur and then you look out into the dining room finding only one customer left in the building, pointing him out to Jun, “The sooner he leaves the sooner we get to go play. You know what to do.”

Jun stretches and cracks his knuckles, “I’m about to make this man so uncomfortable.”

“I have faith in you,” you pat his shoulder, chuckling, “Make me proud, dummy.”

He tries kissing you before he walks away but his lips meet the palm of your hand.

“Sorry, I only kiss rat boys who can beat me in guitar hero, you’ll have to wait.”

He walks and then stops, looking very serious and contemplative, “Ok but you can’t play it with Mingyu or Woozi then because they’re like really good and you can only kiss me.”

“I’m not kissing anyone unless you get us out of here.”

“Right,” he focuses his gaze on the poor soul in the corner of the dining room and grins, “Be ready to leave in ten minutes,” and then he’s moving and you’re left giggling behind the counter.

Yeah, he’s still kind of a loser but he’s your loser now and that somehow just feels right.

You know what else feels right?

Giving Jun that overdue wedgie the second you clock out and listening to him complain all the way home that you’re an actual super villain for waiting months for him to let his guard down just to turn around and desecrate his honor in the Yo-Nuts parking lot. All while holding your hand in the car.

Jun is probably right. You two are perfect for each other.

Thanks for reading!

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

#caratwritersclub #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #ksmutclub #svt fanfic #jun fanfic #wen junhui fanfic #junhui fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt oneshot #jun oneshot #jun smut #jun x reader #svt x reader #lana writes #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop oneshot

930 notes · View notes

lovingseventeen · 1 year

Note

my random thought just suddenly wondering how it feels to have seventeen as your older brother 🥺 personally, i think seungcheol, jeonghan, woozi, hoshi, eisa and vernon radiates big bro energy jsjdhdhshsjs btw i love your writings 😻

svt as older brothers

a/n: this is totally independent from the members and their siblings irl/where they are in their actual sibling lineages lol

seungcheol:

✰ literally an additional guardian

✰ when you come home late he’s in the living room like “where were you” -_-

✰ little tough, but he’s also the person you trust the most

jeonghan:

✰ always always teases you

✰ but still manages to be sweet in the end

✰ if he annoys you too much he'll try to make it up to you by giving you a small gift

✰ sometimes it’s a bag of your favorite chips or maybe it’s a new pack of nice pens because he knows you like them

joshua:

✰ easy going and doesn’t really bother you

✰ also quite responsible so you can rely on him to help you with homework or general responsibilities

✰ although he will (lovingly) post a very cringe (in his opinion, cute) picture of you from your childhood for your birthday greetings

✰ i can’t believe y/n is so grown now, i might just cry 🥰✨🫶 *used ironically*

jun:

✰ unspoken understanding type of close

✰ he’s pretty responsible too but it’s disguised with how weird he is LMAO

✰ will make a controversial snack and always ask if you want some ???

✰ the best bro to watch stupid comedies with

hoshi:

✰ the kind of sibling that you'd bicker with a lot because of the tiger agenda and general small annoying instances

✰ the kind of menace in the sense that he’ll ruffle and mess up your hair or hang out in your room for no reason

✰ but he's also simultaneously your number one defender

✰ someone's interested in you? ohoho get ready to face the older brother interrogation

✰ expect to not be able to easily flirt with anyone, he's gonna ruin it

✰ “oh is this the guy you were giggling about last night-” right before you push him out of your conversation

✰ your s/o broke your heart? NOBODY give him their location

wonwoo:

✰ the perfect sibling to participate in parallel play LMAOO

✰ the two of you are in the same room doing completely different things and honestly, it’s a comfort

✰ the kind to send you a meme instead of just showing it to you on his phone even if you’re on the same couch

woozi:

✰ also a very responsible big bro

✰ i feel like he’d be the best to go to for any advice

✰ maybe more on the serious side but he’s always welcoming to you and sincerely listens

dokyeom:

✰ honestly the kind of sibling that will definitely do stupid shit with you

✰ the kind of brother you’d make a tiktok about bc he’s doing something equally funny and weird

✰ quite literally the most entertaining family member during karaoke sessions on holidays bc he has the voice of an angel but also the energy of a thousand suns when he feels like it

✰ even if you guys ever jokingly bicker i can't imagine him ever really getting mean so y'all don't really argue

mingyu:

✰ always prepares extra food for you

✰ if he gets up earlier than everyone and has to make breakfast for himself, best believe he's making more than one serving so you have something when you wake up too

minghao:

✰ still slightly babies you even if you’re grown

✰ in his mind you’re still his baby sibling and that he has to take care of you regardless of your age

✰ even as adults he might text you on a day that it’s raining and ask “did you bring an umbrella with you to work today?”

✰ puts in the effort for a chance to hang out with you when he can 🥺

seungkwan:

✰ why is arguing with him so funny LMAOAO

✰ go into his room to knock something small over and leave without saying anything and he's ready to throw hands

✰ will jokingly fight you but immediately apologize if he accidentally hits you too hard or he thinks he might’ve hurt you

✰ “what. is. your. problem- oh shit i’m sorry i didn’t mean that-”

vernon:

✰ the chillest older brother omg

✰ reliable in the sense that he'd probably accompany you in your shenanigans - literally goes with the flow

✰ you don't have someone to go with you to this late concert? sure he'll tell your parents he'll go with you

✰ “you wanna go see this band with me?” you ask, showing a poster on your phone

✰ “sure?”

✰ you need someone to drive you somewhere? yeah he can spare an hour, just text him when you need him to pick you up

dino:

✰ also another fun sibling to argue with

✰ it’s fun to tease him by saying he’s your little brother even when he literally isn’t

✰ “y/n i’m literally *insert the exact number of days he was born before you* days older than you”

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thezombieprostitute · 23 days

Text

Changing Minds - Part 8

Summary: Your long time work acquaintance Nick Fowler offers to take you to a fancy fundraiser as a way of cheering you up. He insists it's only as friends but when he sees you falling into the grasp of someone he knows is no good, he might change his mind on that.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: Mild violence and mentions of blood. Please let me know if I missed any.

A/N: Reader is an older female (late 30's +). This is part of the Garbage Men AU.

Part 7 -- Epilogue

Series Masterlist

The day of the Tea Party you hold Nick’s hand as much as you can in the car. While it’s impossible to really have a plan for what’s going to happen, you’ve talked through some plans for what to do if things go bad. Nick made sure you memorized the directions to the nearby Cairo Hotel and to ask for the manager, Jonathan Pine. As a fail-safe Nick had reserved a room under both of your names.

Nick parks the car but stops you from getting out. He gently holds your chin and, eyes full of worry, he pleads, “promise me, if anything happens, you’ll get out. Don’t stop or try to help me. You just get the hell out of there.”

“It wouldn’t look good if your girlfriend just bolted,” you argue.

“If things go south there’s gonna be a lot of chaos and a lot of things could go bad,” he asserts. “You run to the hotel. I’ll do better if I know you’re safe. Please.”

“I can’t promise that, Nick,” you object. “Believe it or not, I do actually care about you and don’t want you killed because I decided to provoke him.” Nick’s eyes widen at your confession so you continue, “it’s not romantic care. Not right now. But we’ve been friendly for so long, I can’t say it wouldn’t hurt to lose you.”

“Thank you for that,” he whispers. “But I can’t let you go to this party unless you promise me you’ll take care of yourself first.”

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But I get to decide what taking care of myself first looks like.”

“I suppose that’ll have to do,” he smiles softly. “You can be so delightfully stubborn.”

Part of you wants to believe he is interested in being more than just friends. That his words are heartfelt compliments. You brush those thoughts away and mumble, “let’s just get this over with.”

You’re a little disappointed that the rooftop garden is so much a garden as it is a rooftop lawn. There aren’t any plants aside from grass and some plain green bushes that have been trimmed into neat, orderly box shapes. The only color is provided by the pink tablecloths that adorn the few designated eating areas. It makes you wonder if your dress is out of place and too colorful for the occasion.

There were other people already in attendance. A small group of young ladies posing for their phones, smiling and laughing. A few gentlemen who were clearly dragged along by the young ladies, sitting and grumpily staring at their phones, occasionally discussing whatever it is rich young people discuss. And Clark Kent, directing the catering staff and telling the bartender to not let his nephew have more than two drinks.

Being the polite guests that you are, you and Nick make sure to tell Clark that you’ve arrived. He plasters on his best fake smile to greet you, not even bothering to look at Nick.

“Ah, sweet Lady, you brighten this party with your presence,” he schmoozes, taking your hand to kiss it. “Sincerely, I feel out of place with all of these young ones. It’s nice to have someone mature to have a conversation with.”

“Yes, Nick and I do seem to be the only adults on the guest list,” you comment. “Are you hosting this for someone else?”

Clark sighs, “my nephew is trying to impress his girlfriend. Apparently she’s trying to make it big on Instagram, or whatever. He’s hoping attending a party hosted by Clark Kent will be good for her profile and, thus, good for him.”

“Ah,” you smile. “Kids in love are so adorable.”

Clark scoffs, “it isn’t ‘love’ it’s just horny college boy stuff.”

“Oh,” your smile falls. “He told you as such?”

“No, but I remember being that age,” he retorts. “All that’s on his mind is getting laid.”

“I remember being that age as well,” Nick interrupts. “And I remember thinking it was love.”

“And clearly it wasn’t,” Clark rebutted. “Or else you wouldn’t be here with this lovely Lady today.”

“Not all love can be true love,” Nick countered. “But it can still be real. You take the lessons you learn from that love and apply them to the next, in an effort to keep it.” He looks at you, eyes soft, yet steely with determination. “Maybe it’ll even become a true love with time and work.”

“Agree to disagree, I suppose,” Clark rolls his eyes as he smiles. “I’ll believe in love when it actually happens.”

“Given how things worked out for us, I’m inclined to agree with Nick,” you banter. “Sometimes life makes us too cynical, too hard on ourselves, to see real love. I think it’s why I adore when younger people are in love. It’s so cute and pure. But, this is clearly something we’re not all going to agree on so how about we just enjoy the food, drink and company?”

Nick kisses the back of your hand, “my Lady is so very wise.”

“Agreed,” Clark hums. “Feel free to partake of any of the food and drink that interest you. And do let me know how you like it. I need to make sure to leave feedback for the caterer.”

About an hour into the party you find yourself enjoying the company of the younger folk. They’re a lot like the young people you work with and you almost feel like “the cool aunt” with how willing they are to open up to you, how they light up when you ask more about their ideals and dreams. Nick stays with you and follows your lead. He hasn’t seen you so relaxed and happy in a while and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way.

He also keeps an eye on Clark, who is sulking near the bar. You’d clearly been invited to keep him company but you’re enjoying the company of everyone else. Nick’s lost track of the number of refills Clark’s gotten on his drink but it’s definitely been enough to start affecting him. The casual observer might be fooled but Nick notices the slight tells of Clark being buzzed, closing in on drunk.

To be honest, though, a drunk Clark Kent isn’t Nick’s primary concern; it’s the Instagram girl constantly taking photos and videos. Nick doesn’t care much for putting his face out in public but the young lady is insistent on getting everyone in view. He’s grateful when you comment about him being painfully camera shy and go out of your way to block his face when you can.

At least until the Instagram girl tells all of her followers how much fun you are. When that pronouncement comes out everyone hears Clark shout, “she’s supposed to be talking with me! Not you young idiots!” He comes storming over to you and Nick immediately jumps in his way, hands out in a calming, placating manner.

“Mr. Kent,” Nick entreats, “you’ve had a lot to drink today. Please take a breath and consider what–” He’s interrupted by a punch to the face.

“NICK!” You immediately run to him to see if he’s okay.

Your scream seems to pierce Clark’s drunken state and he shakes his head trying to clear it. That’s when he sees the phone is still out. Still live-streaming. He looks over to you and Nick and closes the distance to punch Nick again, this time putting him on the ground.

“You did this on purpose,” Clark shouts. “You set me up for ruin with your schemes and plots!”

“Mr. Kent,” you scold, “we are your guests. You invited us here and we’ve been nothing but polite.”

“You should leave,” Clark snarls. You take a step back, startled by the rage in his face.

Nick is up and grabs your shoulder, pulling you behind him. “He’s right, we should leave.” He keeps between you and Clark as you head towards the stairs to get to the elevator. Once inside you see the blood draining from Nick’s nose and get some things from your purse to try to clean him up. As much as he wants to enjoy your caring touch, he has to keep alert. Especially when the “express” elevator stops early.

The door opens and a small group of burly men gesture for you to step out with them. Nick looks at you and whispers, “remember the plan.” You nod and Nick throws himself at the small posse.

You hit the “Close Doors” button and stay out of sight until the doors close. You stay in that spot until the doors open at the lobby and you rush out. Your entire system is on high alert but you have to pretend to be calm as you walk through the lobby. You don’t want to draw attention. Silently you thank Nick for making you memorize the path to the hotel as it becomes the mantra for your brain, keeping you from panicking.

The Cairo Hotel lobby is immaculate and you do feel a little safer just for being there. You approach the front desk and shakily ask to see Jonathan Pine, the Manager. The woman behind the desk gives you a once over but goes to get him. You keep looking to the hotel entrance, hoping to see Nick, afraid to see Clark. You’re certain Nick is strong and capable; Teach said he’s one of their best security people. It’s why he was called in to protect a witness. You’re still very scared for him, though.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a polite cough from behind the desk. A tall, lean man with blondish brown hair and blue eyes is smiling politely, “you asked for me?”

“Y–yes,” you start, “I was told by Nick Fowler to come and ask for you?”

Mr. Pine’s eyes flicker with recognition at the name, “ah, yes. Mr. Fowler speaks highly of you. Please come with me so we can get you taken care of.”

“Thank you, sir.”

As he begins to lead you away you hear your name being shouted from the hotel entrance. You’re not sure if he followed you or if this place just made sense, but it’s clear Clark is very angry with you.

“You owe me an apology and an explanation,” he shouts as he storms towards you.

Mr. Pine steps in front of you and calmly tells Clark that he needs to leave. “I will not have a disturbance at my hotel, Mr. Kent. I will especially not tolerate any violence or threats of violence against one of my guests.”

“She’s not a guest,” Clark spits. “She can’t afford a place like this! I’ve seen her pay statements! She’d be lucky to be able to afford a half hour here!”

“She is a registered guest at this hotel, Mr. Kent, and I will not let you threaten her.”

“This is bullshit! I’ve done nothing but be kind to her and she’s ruined my reputation!”

“Your quarrel, legitimate or otherwise, has no bearing here, Mr. Kent. She is a guest, she is under my protection.”

“Oh fuck you,” Clark snaps before throwing a punch at Mr. Pine. Mr. Pine easily dodges, grabs Clark’s arm and maneuvers him into a wristlock, causing Clark to let out a bark of pain.

“Miranda,” Mr. Pine addresses the hotel clerk. “Please escort the Lady to the Cleopatra Suite while I call the police.”

Miranda nods and gestures for you to follow her.

+++++++++

You spend the next hour pacing the hotel room you were brought to. It’s a smaller, windowless suite that makes you think it’s specifically set aside for emergencies. There’s a mini-bar but you have no stomach for food or drink. You’re all nerves and keep pacing as much as you can. You wish Nick were here. It wouldn’t be enough for someone to tell you he’s okay, you need to actually see him, feel him, know he’s still alive.

The past few weeks have been a tumultuous mess and Nick quickly became your safety net, your safe haven, your reliable partner. You’d started craving his reassuring touch, his comforting whispers in your ear. You swear to yourself that if Nick makes it through this you’re gonna tell him about your feelings. About how you want it to be real. Hopefully he’ll let you down gently.

A tone from your phone gets you to stop pacing. You find a text from Nick, “about to knock on the door.” Sure enough, there’s a knock. You still make sure to check that it’s him through the peephole, just to be safe. You almost start crying when you see him on the other side of the door.

Flinging the door open you pull Nick inside with you, slam the door shut and pull him in for a kiss. Initially thrown off, he softens into the kiss and holds you tight. When you pull away for a breath you whisper, “you’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay. Didn’t realize how much I needed you to be okay.”

“Yeah, sweet Lady, I’m okay,” he assures.

When you pull away again you gasp at how beaten up he looks. He quickly tells you he’s had worse, that he’ll be okay in a few days, but you barely hear him.

“Have you seen a doctor? Nick, you might have a concussion, or broken bones, or something worse!”

“I needed to make sure you were okay first,” he confesses as he kisses you again. “Couldn’t stand the thought of you being caught.” Another kiss. “Needed to hold you again, just to be sure.” You welcome the kisses and return them with a fervor that encourages Nick to keep going. “Couldn’t go to a doctor until I heard your voice again.”

“I felt the same,” you admit between kisses. “I never want to go through that again. I need you, Nick.”

“Need me?” He gently pulls away from you, eyes searching your face.

“Yes, Nick,” you breathe. “I’ve always felt safe with you, enjoyed your company and the past few weeks have just cemented that. I want you around. I need your touch, your comforting words and presence. Please.”

“I’ll happily be yours,” he affirms. “And if I wasn’t worried about getting blood on your gorgeous body I’d take you here and now.”

You can’t hold back a small moan at the thought of Nick’s expert lips on other parts of your body and he smiles before wincing at the pain it causes in his split lip. That elicits a small chuckle from you, “we really should get you to a hospital, Nick.”

“Will you hold my hand while they patch me up,” he asks, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. “I’m not a fan of hospitals and could use the comfort of your touch to help keep me calm.”

“Gladly, Nick.”

He kisses the back of your hand, “thank you, my gracious Lady.”

Part 7 -- Epilogue

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finnsanegg · 1 year

Text

Misleading Dreams

〰️🎵 Wicked Game - Chris Isaak 🎵〰️

-> Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Female Reader

-> Era: Season 3 (at the wedding)

-> Pronouns: she/her

-> Warnings: alcohol consumption, brief mention of character death

-> Word Count: 2k

-> Summary: You're one of the magic kids. You possess the ability to travel through space, though unlike Five - your power lies in traveling through realities and timelines (basically, your superpower is shifting). You came into this reality to help with doomsday, which unfortunately didn't go as planned; even though you knew exactly what was gonna happen. You knew everything - because yes, the Umbrella Academy was only a mere TV show in the reality you came from.

---------------

“You know I actually dreamed about you, back in my universe,” you put your hand on his shoulder for better balance.

The liquor was doing its dutiful job, God forbid you would trip and fall right now.

“Really?” Five raises his brows in question, “do tell.”

With a smile, you shift your eyes to the side - then you look back at him.

It was hard to look him in the eye for a longer period of time. All this slow dancing came hand in hand with you being just a little closer to each other, more than you were used to. Thankfully, enough whiskey was allowing you to just try and enjoy the moment.

Because what else could you possibly have right now?

“You managed to create a portal to the moon,” you said, “on my balcony.”

He laughs, grabbing your hand just a little tighter. Probably for balance.

You weren't the only one who reeked of liquor here.

“You were so proud of yourself,” you continued with an amused chuckle.

“How could I not be,” he thinned his lips into a somewhat triumphant smile.

Five was well aware his behavior was probably veering away from his typical characteristic self. He was really out here, dancing like nothing mattered. And not just that, he was dancing with Y/N. In his mind, he wondered just how the hell did the two of you get into this situation in the first place.

“Ahh finally, I did it!” you mimicked his words from your dream - as if you truly heard him say that.

His face grimaced in a pretended offense.

You never noticed how green his eyes actually were. Now that you could look at them from up close, you realized just how much tenderness they carried. Or was it the booze?

Come to think of it - the last time you were this close to each other was when you were leaving. You were leaving and he most likely thought he would never see you again. And you really did plan to not show your face here anymore, which obviously didn’t work out for you.

Your reasons were rather selfish, but that didn’t make them any less real. Simply put, you just started to love each and every asshole in the Hargreeves family way too much. In fact, you considered yourself a part of them. And now, they did too.

It really just became your conjoint timeline, didn’t it?

“And what happened after that?” Five narrowed his eyes with amusement. Oh he was loving this conversation right now. This must have been the most fun he’s had since… well, ever since he got himself stuck in the apocalypse.

As you reminded yourself of the very dramatic events that happened in your dream, you chuckled, “you were about to jump in it. But I wanted to stop you.”

He raised his brow.

“So naturally, I tackled you to the ground,” you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “and the portal disappeared.”

How else would you wanna stop Five fucking Hargreeves? Well to be fair, you couldn’t really stop him even if you tried. He was like an elder on a hunt for sales. Or should I say a soon-to-be young adult in a desperate need to get laid. Both things combined.

He lets out another laugh, “very professional of you.”

“Wait, do you guys see Five?” Luther looked in your direction.

They were all sitting at one of the tables not far from the dance floor.

Victor soon followed his gaze, “he’s… laughing?”

“Five and Y/N!” Klaus smashed the table a little too hard, “I always knew he had a thing for her.”

“That’s so weird,” Diego proclaimed.

Klaus laughed, “I bet it’s the cute shorts that did the trick.”

You watched as he laughed, his eyes closing and opening again. He was shining especially bright tonight. Like the weight of the world was finally off his shoulders for a while.

“Even in your dreams, you just manage to harass me, do you?” Five joked.

For some reason, his chest felt like it was on fire. Maybe he didn’t mind your bullying so much, oddly enough. There was just something about you. And strangely, he could tell this felt very similar to how he used to be with Dolores.

It was your turn to burst out in laughter now, you threw your head back, as if it would help you regulate the amount of alcohol in your system right now.

Five couldn’t turn his eyes away at that moment. Honestly, who would? He absentmindedly eyed the curves of your collarbones - they looked especially nice tonight, complimented by the dress you were wearing. The skin of your neck, the sharp edges of your jawline. And he was thinking like a damn teenager.

“There, did you see that?!” Klaus pointed his finger, “He’s so eyeing her!”

“Him eyeing someone?” Lila grimaced, “this is Five we’re talking about.”

Klaus ignored Lila’s comment of course, “they toootaly have the hots for each other,” he smiled.

Luther raised his brow, “or he’s just really drunk.”

“Alright,” you shook your head, “but in my defense, I helped you up right after that.”

“My hero,” he sighed dryly.

That damn sarcasm of his.

You scoffed, hitting the back of his neck lightly. Oh, this conversation would soon be the death of you.

He tilted his head then - a deadly move, too much for drunk Y/N to handle.

“I hope I repaid the favor.”

“Actually…”

Yes, this conversation might actually just end you sooner than the apocalypse.

“You kissed me.”

His brows shot up.

Please kill me now, you thought.

“And let me tell you, it was one sloppy kiss,” you laughed.

Now that you think about it, whiskey probably wasn’t the best fit for you. Next time you could just down a bottle of kerosene instead.

“Hey!” he breathes out, somehow offended. He couldn't believe where this conversation led to.

“You actually apologized for being so terrible,” you had to say it was amusing to watch his face switching through the whole palette of different emotions.

Five’s eyes narrowed in an embarrassed glare. You had no idea how he worked his glare game up to this ridiculously high level. Maybe he used to stare holes through bricks as a sport back in the apocalypse.

“That doesn't sound like me at all.”

“It really doesn't.”

A few seconds of silence followed. Neither of you knew how to continue this conversation, so you just assumed (you hoped, in fact) you would just drop it.

“Well, now I know your dreams are total bullshit.”

Well, guess not.

“Hey!” you frowned.

Five was asking himself just why on Earth did he decide to pursue this topic further. But his mouth outran his thoughts - something that seemed to happen a lot under the influence of sweet alcohol. He was already so close to you and something in him screamed that this was his chance.

“First off, creating a portal to the moon is nearly impossible.”

“Nearly?” you raised your brows, chuckling. To be fair, he probably would find a way.

“And second..." Five paused.

He still wasn't sure if he should do this. But the odds were against you all, with the inevitable doom literally around the corner.

And for some reason, he remembered the time you left. Or rather, how it felt. How he then started to realize that your shared objective wasn't the only thing he liked about you.

"...I’m not a bad kisser.”

You stared at him, trying to process his words. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Or were you just unnecessarily reading into it? It was hard to tell.

As you swayed into the slow, seemingly never-ending rhythm of the song, you proceeded to furrow your brows and then raise them up again.

It was difficult to believe Five would make a move like this. That he would say something so strangely inviting. As if he would want you to fall into the trap hidden within this conversation. Nevertheless, that didn't stop your heart from fluttering a little faster. There was just something about his eyes that made you believe it just for a second.

“Really?" you asked, "Well, I don’t believe you."

A rather bold answer, you must say. But you needed to know if you were really picking up what he was putting down. If he was putting this down.

Five's heart was beating unusually fast. Guess all this second puberty deal was getting to him too much. In his 58 years he wouldn't have hoped something like this would ever happen to him. But then again, he didn't really get the chance to meet a lot of people now, did he? The apocalypse is a dark and lonely time to be in.

But being here and now, he felt so young again. You made him feel young again.

"And how's that so?" He narrowed his eyes, "dreams are often very misleading."

He did have a point. They were misleading.

Your suspicion grew stronger with every second you spent looking at each other in silence. You suddenly didn’t know what to say - a certain type of nervousness washed over you.

Come on, say something, Y/N.

Absent-mindedly, your eyes slid down to his lips.

You swear it was only for a split second. There was no way Five would have noticed that.

But he did.

Or at least - he hoped he did. It wasn’t his imagination, was it?

Before this silence could get anymore intense, you shook your head slightly and gave yourself a mental slap across the face. Well, more like a mental punch in the guts.

“I guess you’re right,” you cleared your throat, “but it still doesn’t make me believe you.”

Now, you knew this wasn’t the end of times. You were well aware of what was about to happen. In the back of your mind, you plotted to prevent both Luther and Klaus from dying - your heart broke a little every time you remembered what was in store for them.

But, Five most likely thought this was the last day on Earth for you all. And if you thought so too, you would definitely not waste your time.

Fuck it.

“If only there was a way to prove it.”

You tilted your head then - a deadly move, too much for drunk Five to handle.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from widening ever so slightly. His smile faded, as realization hit him. He really did just hear you say that; what a bold push. It’s one he really didn’t expect. But it’s one he probably needed.

You witnessed as his face softened, he locked on you with a focused look. Now that wasn’t a sight you could see very often. But in a strange way, it suited him.

Ignoring the bundle of nerves in your stomach, you reciprocated the tender seriousness with which he was observing you. Now it was his turn to say something.

Please just say something.

“Can I?”

Oh.

Your mouth hung slightly open.

You didn’t even notice you had stopped dancing. Neither did Five.

You didn’t dare to break eye contact. Neither did Five.

You both stood in silence for a few moments.

This time you weren’t really trying to hide the way you looked down on his lips. And neither did Five.

A slight smile formed on your lips, and at that moment he already knew the answer.

Next thing you knew, his hand rested gently on the side of your neck and he pulled himself closer.

Your noses brushed against each other first - and somehow you both stayed in that moment of closeness just a few seconds longer than you had to.

And suddenly, you were kissing.

You focused on his soft lips. The way he gently breathed out when you parted. The way he breathed you in once more as you kissed again.

His other hand remained on your hip, as it did throughout the dance. Only it seemed more eager, his grip tightened ever so slightly, as if he needed to make sure you won't go anywhere.

And Five really didn't want you to go anywhere right now.

He was making sure this was truly real - that he won't just wake up from a drunk, misleading dream. He really liked the way this felt. And he must admit, at that moment, he let his guard down completely.

Maybe whiskey wasn’t so bad after all.

---------------

-> A/N: As you can probably tell, this is part of a bigger storyline. I thought up a lot of different scenarios thru all the seasons into my script, for when I shift there. Hope you enjoyed and let me know if you would like more from this universe!

#five hargreaves x you #five hargreeves #five hargreaves fluff #five hargreeves fluff #the umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy five #five hargreeves x reader #five x reader #five hargreeves x female reader

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marve2014 · 1 year

Text

No Time Like the Present

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Part Four

Summary: Y/N meets Thing.

Warnings: Minor mention of violence, bullying.

Minors DNI

Word Count:2.9K

Authors Note: All characters aged up to 18. This is where the story diverges from the actual story line.

Outreach day was one day a year that the students of Nevermore coexisted with the kids of Jericho in order to "strengthen the bonds” between the two groups; At least that’s the spiel the mayor keeps giving all the businesses so they’ll let Nevermore students work in their shops. Tyler and I spent the morning talking about Wednesday and I’s not official, official first date while we waited for our Nevermore kid to show up. We were assigned the one and only Xavier Thorpe; the same one who hates Tyler and honestly makes me uncomfortable with how he looks at me and Wednesday. Making my iced coffee before people start trickling in, Xavier comes walking in.

“Hello Xavier, how are you today?” you ask, trying to make polite conversation.

“I’m good y/n, how are you feeling after last night?” he smirks as he grabs an apron and makes his way behind the counter.

“If you must know, I had an amazing time. First dates are never really what you expect them to be, are they?” Smiling as you remember the feeling of Wednesday's hand in yours..

“First date? With who?” you can see the confusion flash across his face and can’t help but chuckle.

“With Wednesday of course. She was the one who demanded it was a date”. You decide to embellish the story just a little bit to make him even more uncomfortable

“Wait, you and Wednesday?!? ‘“ he asks clearly shocked at the information you just provided.

“Yes, me and Wednesday. Is that a problem?' you question coldly.

“No, no, no problem at all. Just a little confused. I thought I was more her type.” He confesses as he starts wiping down the counter “guess she wasn’t playing hard to get, huh? Oh crap. And when I flirted with you before! Jesus I’m on idiot”

"Oblivious, yes, an idiot, eh, harsh words” you defend and give him a smile.

Tyler walks out of the breakroom and notices you and Xavier talking, you look over to him and he sends you a look that you know can lead to nothing good.

“I will be right back Xavier, it seems I am being summoned by that doofus over there” you laugh, walking towards Tyler as he pulls you into a hug when you reach him.

"Wednesday is at pilgrim world, wearing the costume and everything, we have no customers and Xavier can handle the few that come in.” Tyler rushes out all in one breath.

“On my goodness, yes! Lets go! I’m so gonna use this to blackmail her. Xavier? We’ll be back in 10 minutes hold down the fort.”

“Aye, aye captain.” he mock salutes you as you and Tyler make your way to pilgrim word. Looking through the crowd trying to find Wednesday, you notice a smaller kid surrounded by 3 older boys – all dressed up like pilgrims. You leave Tyler and make your way over and see the smaller boy struggling as one of the older ones is trying to force him into a wooden contraption.

“HEY! LEAVE HIM ALONE!” You run over and all of them stare at you.

“Go away, this doesn’t have anything to do with you, outcast lover.” The ring leader says as he tries to get the small boy to stop squirming. You look around trying to find an adult as you feel someone walk directly next to you.

“Howdy Pilgrims.” You look and see Wednesday staring at the situation with a cold decisive look in her eyes. “ I suggest you let Eugene go”. Wednesday rests her arm on the top of the wooden stock preventing it from closing on him.

“What do you want to end up in the stocks too?” The ring leader asks as you pull the kid Wednesday called Eugene from the wooden stock and put your arm around his shoulder to comfort him.

“If I recall, we did this dance before and it didn’t end up well for you.” Wednesday smugly states as the larger boy makes a move to grab her. You stay with Eugene and Wednesday ends up tossing the kid to the floor and breaks his finger; all of the Jericho boys flee and you and Wednesday tend to Eugene. You're cleaning his uniform when Wednesday walks over and takes in the both of you smiling and laughing despite what just happened.

“Why do I always find you in trouble?” Wednesday asks while you finish cleaning up Eugene.

“Well I couldn’t let them just be mean to Eugene. It would be like hurting a puppy!” You laugh and stare at Wednesday noticing how beautiful she looks.

“You are absolutely gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?” You ask and can tell Wednesday is starting to blush.

“I assume you two know each other?” Eugene interrupts.

“Yes Eugene, this is y/n. She’s a normie. But she’s MY normie.” Wednesday declares ready to defend you if Eugene were to say something cross. You can feel your cheeks heating up at her casualness of mentioning you two being an item, unable to hide your smile you grab Wednesdays hand in yours.

“Well Eugene, it was a pleasure meeting you but I need to borrow Wednesday here.” You smile and lead both you and Wednesday back to the Weathervane walking in, still hand and hand with each other you make Wednesday sit at the table closest to the cash register you leave her there while you make her, her usual all the while Xavier is staring at you both mouth gaped open,with how easily she is letting you order her around; something he imaged should not even be possible with how strong willed the Wednesday Addams he knows is. Xavier makes his way over to the table you sat Wednesday at and smugly looks her up and down.

“Never thought I would see Wednesday Addams act so domestic.”

“Xavier, I’m going to stay this once and only once, if you value your life you’re going to keep your mouth shut and not mention what’s seen here today to anyone at Nevermore.”

“Ill keep that in mind.” He smiles and makes a move to sit across from Wednesday.

“Xavier, if I’m not mistaken, you’re supposed to actually work; not harass customers. Go wipe something down.” You glare and make sure he’s away from Wednesday before she can threaten him anymore. Finishing up her drink, you walk over and take where Xavier was going to sit. You look Wednesday in the eyes “I am taking you somewhere tonight, be at the gates of the school at 9:00p.m. Okay? And dress warm. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

“Fine, but I need to talk to Tyler, has he made it back yet?” She questions.

“No clue, let me check the back. One minute”. You run to the back break room and see Tyler sitting in one of the chairs drinking an energy drink and playing some game on his phone.

“Wednesday needs you, please and thank youuuu.” You smile and wait for him to follow.

“The peasant you were seeking ma’am.” You motion to tyler.

“How can I be of service?” Tyler jokes as Wednesday pulls out a map she got from Pilgrim World.

“I need to know where on this map is the old pilgrims meeting house from the 1600s.”

Tyler looks down at the map confused and then points to a secluded area.

“There, but its kind of sketchy, Squatters and meth heads use it as a crash pad. My dad has to clear it out every few weeks. Why are you looking for it?”

“No reason.” Wednesday coldly states as she looks from Tyler to you.

“Becoming obsessed with the monster in the woods, are we?” Tyler jokes.

“Okayyyy, and that’s enough interaction between the two of you. Wednesday here has to go play her cello and then she has a date to get ready for” you usher Tyler away and pull Wednesday in for a hug. You feel her stiffen and then immediately relax into your arms. “I will see you later, Lovely. Okay?” You kiss her cheek and send her on her way.

Feeling the stares from both Tyler and Xavier, you ignore both of them and make yourself a coffee before the lunch rush comes in.

The rest of the shift goes by without a hitch, Xavier staying away from Tyler, and everyone staying away from you until it was time to close. You and Tyler head to your house so you can get ready for your date.

“So what exactly did you plan for your date?” Tyler asks as he starts rummaging through the fridge looking for a snack.

“A dinner picnic. You can eat anything in that fridge but so help me if you touch the cheese. It’s for tonight.” You yell as you make your way up the stairs. Looking through your clothes, you decide on jeans and a sweater so that you will be warm in the cold night air. Walking back down stairs you get a picnic basket from the Hall closet and bring it into the kitchen. Getting some fancy bread, crackers, fruit and cheese you start loading it all up as Tyler sits there watching eating some form of food in an old takeout container.

“Do you think shell like this?” You nervously ask, placing some drinks into the basket.

“I think she would literally let you sit there and just stare at her and she would have a good time. I mean you got kidnapped and she classified it as a date.”

“You’re not wrong. Okay, foods packed, Im ready. You can stay if you want. My mom will be home in like an hour; you know she loves feeding you. I’m out.” You hug Tyler, leaving him in the house as you make your way to the gates of Nevermore. Pulling near the gates, you see Wednesday and you put the car in park and hop out. Grabbing the black roses you hid in the backseat, you make your way over to her and pull the passenger door open for her.

“I know you love black flowers, and these are a lot easier to find than black dahlias. I hope you like them.” You smile as you close her door and get in the drivers side.

“Thank you for the flowers, not everyone can appreciate a dead flower. But I do.”

“Kay, so I promise im not bringing you to our next location to murder you. I feel like you could take me down and kill me faster than I could kill you, however, It is a spooky place, but that’s your vibe, and I want you to be comfortable.” You explain nervously as you start driving toward your destination.

Pulling into an old cemetery you see a small smile at the corners of Wednesday’s lips.

‘’This is an acceptable location for the date.” Wednesday tries to not seem excited.

You get the blanket and pillows while Wednesday grabs the picnic basket and you make your way to the back of the cemetery. Placing everything down, you and Wednesday begin to eat the snacks you prepared.

“Can I ask something without you getting offended?” You cautiously ask Wednesday, making her put down her crackers.

“I suppose that’s okay. Go ahead.” She responds.

“What makes me different? Everyone else gets this cold version of you, but I seem to get a softer side.” You grab her hand and start drawing small circles on the back of her knuckles.

“I don’t know what you mean. I treat you the same exact way I treat everyone else.” She argues but keeps her hand held within yours.

“Oh really? So if anyone else held your hand, you’d be fine? Or if anyone else did this?” You lean forward and gently cup the side of Wednesday’s face and bring your lips to hers. You can feel her resist the kiss and you start to pull back thinking you made a huge mistake. As a wave of embarrassment begins to wash over you, you feel Wednesday's hands on each side of your head, tangling her hands in your hair, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss; neither of you stopping until you need to come up for air. You look over at Wednesday's flushed state and start to giggle.

“So you would let anyone else do that? I have to say, if this is gonna work, I’m gonna need that to not happen.”

“If anyone else did that to me I would gouge their eyes out and deliver them to you on a bed of roses. Only you get to do that to me, there are a lot of things you make me feel that I can not explain. It should repel me, disgust me, but one look at your smile and I now understand why the sun dies for the moon each night. Before you, I was destined to live a lonely existence. But the mere thought of never seeing you again brings me a pain that for once, I do not enjoy. I am learning that there is more to life than solitude and just living to eventually die.” Leaning over Wednesday takes the initiative to lay herself slotted between your legs, her back to your chest as she brings your hands to hold hers as they rest on her stomach. Too shocked to say anything you just squeeze Wednesday further into your arms and rest your head on top of hers. You both enjoy each others company while staring at the stars and continuing to eat the snacks you packed.

“So what are your parents like?” You ask. “I saw their photo in that weird library we went to.”

“My parents have always loved each other more than life itself. Growing up with them was sickening; always having to see how much they loved each other. I also have a brother, his name is Pugsley. He’s defenseless at best, he’s the reason I got sent here. There were kids at school bullying him; they tied him up and shoved him in a locker. I don’t like when people mess with the people that I care about if you haven’t noticed. Eugene reminds me a lot of Pugsley, minus the urge to strangle him constantly.”

Wednesday gets a faraway look in her eyes as she talks more about her family, her Uncle Fester, Thing.

“Wait wait wait! So he’s actually just a hand? Like just the hand, no arm, no body and he’s able to communicate and move?” You ask excitedly, wanting to meet him immediately.

“It’s one of the great Addams Family mysteries. He’s over there by that headstone if you want to meet him. He was with us in the library as well. You’re kind of unobservant.” Wednesday laughs and snaps her fingers calling Thing over.

“Thing, this is y/n, y/n this is Thing.” Wednesday introduces.

You squeal with excitement. “Ohhhh my god. Can i pick him up? He’s so cute!”

Thing tilts his nub of a wrist and confusingly looked at Wednesday.

“Go ahead, she wants you to.” Wednesday reassures him. Thing walks on his fingers over to you and climbs up your leg making his was to your outstretched hand. You begin to coo and pet his palm.

“I love him, I want to take him home. He’s like a little bunny rabbit that you don’t need to feed or water.” That comment gets you flicked in the hand by Thing and you look down at him scoldingly. “Heyy. I was calling you cute, don’t make me put you in the car.” You threaten and nuzzle his palm into your hands using it they way you would rub a dogs stomach.

“He may act like he hates it, but he actually loves the attention. He’s like a dog.” Wednesday explains as she makes him get down on her shoulder so she can take your hands in hers again.

As you both continue to lay there you start to hear a rustling in the woods behind you. Looking over, Thing has left, already going to investigate. Grabbing Wednesdays hand with worry you pull the both of you to your feet and start packing all of the remaining food, blankets and pillows and rush to the car.

“We need to go back and get Thing.” You breathlessly tell Wednesday.

“Thing will be fine, its what he’s made for.” Wednesday calmly states.

“Wednesday, you said he was family. I don’t know if you’ve watched Lilo and Stitch, but no one gets left behind.” You yell, making your way back to where you were seated in the cemetery to attempt to locate Thing with Wednesday trailing behind you. Trying to remain calm you slowly make your way into the opening of the woods and are immediately met with what sounded like loud footsteps. Grabbing Wednesday and turning around to run you both stop in your tracks as you’re assaulted by the light of a bright flashlight being shone directly in your eyes.

Taglist: @athenablack1959 @lovelyy-moonlight @wednesdayiswoe @@deadpool-in-a-snood @lixeira @laurenmusic17 @antilost @donnabenevientosbitch @greygsworld @yukiunoo @dumb-ass2 @futurepiratekingfluffy @cupiocalamity @ladey

#wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday season 1 #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams x y/n #Wednesday Addams fanfiction #Part Four #Series #No time like the present #Wednesday Addams Story #Wednesday x female!reader

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dixonsgirl93 · 9 months

Text

Opposites and Opportunities (Sfw)

Merle x ace fem!reader

:Request from anon:

A/N: I've stated before that I personally am not ace, nor do I know anyone who is. I hope I did this enough justice. Feedback would be appreciated so I can improve. Thank you and enjoy!

"Listen, Merle. You're wasting your efforts on me. I'm not interested." You turn to fully face him now. "And it's not because of your charmingly brash personality or your wickedly handsome face. That sort of thing just doesn't interest me." You turn away again.

"Doesn't interest you, huh? What? Having a good time is not something you like?" Merle called after you from the stairs.

You sigh and face him again. "Sex. I mean sex. I've never cared for it. All right?" You feel yourself go red in the face and then silently berate yourself. So what if you didn't like the idea of sex? It's nothing to be ashamed about, you remind yourself.

"Maybe you just haven't met the right guy yet!" He continued and you resigned yourself to the fact he was really not gonna let this go.

"People always say that. As if sex is so important to be having in your adult life. Maybe I don't want to find the right man. Maybe for the last few years I've tried to like the idea because everyone around me and the media has told me I should? I've only recently come to terms with who I am and no one...no one...is going to change me."

Merle held up his hands (metal and normal) in surrender and smirked. "I didn't mean any harm, babygirl. I can't say I understand though." He rested his arms on the pole in front of him again and looked down at you.

"You don't have to understand it, just respect it." You walk away, back to your cell.

Later that day Merle finds you outside and approaches you.

"Hey. Mind if I join yer?" He asks. You motion for him to sit and does and looks out at the darkness. "Do you think it's more or less scary when you can't see 'em out there?" He nods towards the fences.

You follow his gaze and think about it. "Depends which side of the fence you're on." You reply.

Merle chuckles. "Good answer." He pauses. "So anyway, about our conversation earlier, about you not liking sex...uh, why not? I mean, have you always felt that way?" You see genuine curiosity in his eyes and it surprises you. He actually wants to learn.

You look down at the table and frown, thinking about how to phrase your answer. "I can't really explain it, it just...doesn't appeal to me. It seems kinda gross, honestly. Sharing so many bodily fluids." You make a face at the thought.

Merle watches your reaction. "So...you're a germaphobe? Is that it? God help you in this mess. Walker fluids are worse, honey." He laughs to himself, again looking out at the fence. It was too dark to see anything and you wondered how many walkers were standing just out of reach.

You can’t help but smile at his answer. “Well, that is true. It’s not just the germs though, the whole act of…” You gesture wildly with your hands. “…of sex, that I don’t like.”

Merle watched you try to explain and looked away again. “I still don’t get it. Maybe I’m just too horny to.” He chuckles and shrugs. “But hey, you do you, I guess.”

“Thanks.” You say and place a hand on his metal arm. “I underestimated you. I didn’t think you’d…be so understanding. I especially didn’t think you’d be so curious about it.” You say, looking in the distance.

There’s a short pause. “Gotta be honest, I thought you were lying at first to get me off ya back. I’d get it. I can be a lot for some folk.”

You look at him for a moment but say nothing. What could you say to that? It was true and it felt like he was opening up to you. You knew it must be a rare thing too, knowing the kind of person he was, or at least, who he showed the world he was.

“I still…” You begin to say and then pause, wondering if it was a good idea to divulge this information. “I still feel romantic attraction.” You admit.

“Oh yeah? That’s where I fail. Don’t think I can do that mushy crap.”

“To quote you earlier 'maybe you just haven't met the right person'." You look at him knowingly, with a smirk. Merle turns to you laughs.

"Hell, maybe you're right." He admits. "Even less of a chance to find her now though, don't ya think?" His expression turned sombre for just a moment.

"True." There's a long moment of silence again, just sitting in each other's company, letting the weight of the moment sink in. "Maybe there's still a chance. I mean, we're not dead yet." You smiled encouragingly at him but you couldn't quite feel the hope for a future like that in your heart.

Merle just chuckled and stood up. "Anyway, thanks for the chat, Y/N. Have a good night." He winked and walked back inside.

#merle dixon #twd #the walking dead #merle dixon x reader #merle dixon x you #merle dixon imagine #ace reader #ace #asexual #merle dixon x yn

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camywamycam · 10 months

Text

what was left behind in the rubble P.3

702 words

soon to be harry x reader

TW//WRITTEN AT 4 AM BY A SLEEP DEPRIVED TEEN!!!

A/N

I know this is a short chapter and im sorry 😭 I finished writing this at 4 am because I can only write at night since I'm with my mom and siblings all day and I refuse to write in front of them 😭 maybe it wasnt a good idea to start a full ass fanfic story with a plot 2 weeks before I leave for summer camp but yolo, ive decided im gonna have this fic go from the summer - hoggwarts and y/n will start acting a lot more like Sirius iykwim

y/ns pov

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If you had been in the right mindset, you would have impatiently pushed Remus away the second he stepped foot into your room. However, at that moment, all you needed was a hug. You clung onto the soft fabric of his cable knit sweater, which carried the strong scent of chocolate, cigars, and parchment. Remus held you firmly in his arms, patiently waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to open up about your thoughts.

"I hate him," you said in a broken voice.

"You don't mean that," Remus replied, his uncertainty evident in his words. "He loves you, he just... doesn't know the right way to express himself, that's all."

"Well, he obviously doesn't have that problem with Potter," you spat, your voice tinged with envy. "When I traveled all the way to Europe to see my biological father, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't be a total dick."

Remus sat and listened attentively as you rambled, finally realizing how left out you had truly been. The other children never spoke to you, and neither did the adults, except for the usual greetings. The more he spoke to you, the more he learned about your experiences. He discovered that while you were neglected at Grimlands place, you had met a group of muggles who had welcomed you into their friend group so at least you hadn't been totally alone. In the mere 45 minutes of conversation, Remus had already learned more about you than your very own father.

You and Remus continued to chat throughout the night in the room which you had made your own. For the first time in a while when you woke up that morning you didn't feel absolutely terrible. you turned to your side and checked your phone notifications before getting ready for the day.

you tried to sprint down the stairs as quietly as possible knowing the other adults in the house wouldn't be so happy about you sneaking off to hang around strange people whom they knew nothing about. It was almost comical how much they tried to control you when you and they both knew they didn't care about you in the slightest. As you raced down the stairs you bumped into a pale boy with messy black hair and glasses that were a tad bit too large for his face. "black." he spat "potter." "and where do you think you are going?" he said sassily

harrys pov

....................

it was strange seeing y/n actually dressed. since none of the kids went outside we mostly stayed in our lounging clothes. I took note of y/ns red top, flared jeans, a jean jacket that was covered in patches, and Converse. She actually looked quite nice... but I would never admit that.

"out." that's all she said as she tried pushing past me. I grabbed a hold of her wrist "What's your problem? You've been acting rude ever since you got here. You could at least try to talk to your dad." she scoffed in my face "Oh I've tried. he's the one who doesn't want me here." "Maybe he would actually like you if you weren't such a bitch." I was shocked at the words falling from my mouth. did I say that out loud? my thoughts were confused as y/n turned around and punched me square in the nose. Adults rushed in as they heard me fall into a vase smashing it while holding my bloody nose. Mrs. Weasly scolded y/n “what on earth have you done!” she screamed at y/n but she just looked around with a red face and big eyes as she rushed towards the door slamming it shut, not that anyone cared.

"don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry," you thought to yourself as you ran to your friends' house. luckily she asked no questions and just welcomed you in with open arms. you eventually told her what had happened at Grimmlands place and she was pissed. both her parents said you could stay with them as long as you needed. they even let you move into the guest room so you wouldn't have to continue sleeping on your friend's floor. you know that you can't stay here long since school is starting soon, but you might as well enjoy it while you can.

tag list

@moonys0chocolate @venomsvl @quackitysdrugdealer @superduckmilkshake

#Harry Potter #remus lupin x reader platonic #sirius black x daughter!reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #poorly written fics

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cower-before-power · 7 months

Text

Sweet Tooth

Summary: Needing a break from the absolute drag that is your bitchy cousin's wedding, you slip outside for some air. Luckily for you, a cute waiter and a stolen bottle of champagne are ready and waiting to sweeten your night considerably.

Pairing: Modern AU Connie Springer x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,684

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, drinking at work, dub-con (because Reader and Connie are tipsy), implied/referenced sexual content (including unprotected sex, outdoor sex, sex with someone you barely know, oral sex/cum eating), horrible horrible sex puns involving food, rusty writing.

A/N: HEY LOOK MA, I WROTE SOMETHING!! I started this fic ages ago, but only had the motivation to finish it recently thanks to joining The Coffee Corner discord server. This is for their Slice of Life collab, I hope you enjoy some funny Modern AU adult Connie, thank you for reading, likes and (especially) reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️.

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You breathe a sigh of relief as you slip outside into the refreshing evening air. The thumping of music and sounds of people talking dull as the door clicks shut behind you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like weddings. It was just that you didn’t like this wedding.

Your cousin had always been a spoiled brat, a pouty, whiney thing that threw tantrums whenever something didn’t exactly go her way. They two of you had never gotten along, and you knew your parents did not exactly like that side of the family. But they wanted to avoid being reamed out for the next 20 years, so when the invitations arrived, your dad checked off “Yes” with a what could only be described as a world-weary sigh.

You knew she didn’t actually want you there. It was a chance to show off, to show how wealthy her poor (and dumb) husband was and how lavish of a wedding she could throw. If there was one thing that stayed constant, it was her need to always be the center of attention.

“Need a light?”

You whirl around, hand clutching your chest as you come face to face with bright eyes and a toothy grin. Your heart does a strange ga-lump that has nothing to do with being startled; it’s him.

The guy you’ve had your eye on all night, one of the only bright spots in this whole wretched affair. You’ve dubbed him Cute Waiter in your mind, his boyishly charming good looks and happy-go-lucky demeanor like a beam of sunshine through the gloom. He wasn’t assigned to your table, sadly, and you’d been wondering how you would be able to strike up a conversation with him.

Seems like something good may be coming out of this night after all.

“I-I don’t smoke,” you shake your head, frantically trying to reclaim a tiny bit of composure. “Just out for some fresh air.”

“Oh, my bad,” he says cheerfully, stowing the lighter he’d been holding out back into his uniform pocket. “It is kind of stuffy in there, isn’t it?”

You sigh in agreement. “And loud. And mentally exhausting. If my cousin rubs it in my face one more time that she’s married and I’m still “hopelessly inept” at finding love, I’m not responsible for what will happen next.”

Cute Waiter laughs, loud and jolly like he’s auditioning for the role of Santa in a school play. It’s surprisingly adorable. “Yeah, because love is totally in the air tonight.”

You giggle at his words. “She claims it’s love, but trust me; their marriage came to be because of money and the fact my dear cousin does not take no for an answer.”

Cute Waiter leans against the wall of the venue, hands tucked into his pockets as he continues to flash that mega-watt grin. “Yeah, I got the vibe. Wanna make bets about how awkward their night’s gonna be later?”

You snort. “I’m certain she’s just been laying back and thinking of platinum credit cards and shopping sprees for the last two years, and that poor bastard has no idea. He’ll probably be convinced it’s a night of romance while she’s planning the layout of their new mansion in her head.”

Cute Waiter shakes his head, chuckling. “Damn, are we sure they have a chance? Maybe I’ll be serving food at their divorce party. Or his funeral after she murders him for the dough.”

Your face hurts from how much you’re smiling. “Is it bad to say I hope so? The food is very good.”

“Niccolo is quite the whiz in the kitchen,” Cute Waiter agrees genially. “You can’t get much better around here.”

Almost in slow motion, you see your opening being laid out before you. Bolstered no doubt by the two glasses of wine at dinner, and encouraged by the fact he was just so cute and funny, you make your move.

“Of course, I also hope it would mean I’d see a certain man I’ve dubbed Cute Waiter again.”

The man in front of you blinks, eyebrows raising as his face morphs into an strange expression of surprise and amusement. “Cute Waiter, you say?”

“Yes,” you nod, determined to see this through now that it’s underway. “I’ve been wondering how I could get a chance to talk with him all night, but he’s been very busy.” You feel your face warming under his hazel stare. “Imagine my delight to find he’s not only cheerful and good looking, but extremely funny and easy to talk to as well.”

Cute Waiter’s cheeks bloom a lovely shade of pink. “That’s-wow. The prettiest girl at this wedding just-do you really-I mean, thank you,” he stutters out, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m Connie.”

You duck your head shyly at his compliment, your own name murmured softly as you try to calm your thrumming heart. “Hello, Connie.” You stick out your hand out, heat now racing down your neck as you inwardly cringe at your own awkwardness.

Connie grins, taking your proffered hand in a gentle grip. You try not to think of how warm his hand is as his fingers curl around yours. “I think I liked Cute Waiter better.”

You could probably cook an egg on your face at this point. “Well, it’s still a true sentiment anyways.”

Connie chuckles. “You’re good for my ego.” His gaze drops to your still clasped hands. You stammer out an apology, attempting to snatch your misbehaving limb back, but to your surprise (and excitement), he grips your hand tighter.

“Wanna get out of here?”

Your eyes widen as your heart gives an excited thump. “What? Right now?”

Connie nods, eagerness rolling off him in waves. “I’m thinking you, me, and that massive bottle of expensive champagne I saw on the gift table deserve to get to know each other a little bit better. Preferably away from the god-awful vibes this place is giving off.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, but there’s no denying the thrum of excitement beneath your skin.

“You wanna skip out of work, steal someone else’s booze and run off with a girl you’ve known for all of 10 minutes?”

Connie grins. “If that girl is you, then hell yes.”

Laughter bubbles up from your chest like fizz in a soda can. “Then lead the way, Cute Waiter.”

And that’s how you find yourself down by the lake, sprawled out on a stolen tablecloth, tipsy giggles escaping the both of you as the champagne bottle is passed between you. Your animated chatter fills the twilight hour, talking about anything and everything. Connie is easy to talk to, open and free with what feels like a genuine interest in what you have to say. It’s nice. You don’t want it to end.

“This stuff is horrible,” Connie hiccups, shaking his head as he hands you the bottle. “Why do rich people have such garbage taste in alcohol?”

“I like it,” you grab the bottle from him, hugging it to your chest as if it was a beloved teddy bear. “It tastes like sunlight in a bottle. Maybe I’ll serve it at my wedding. If I ever get one.”

“You will,” Connie states matter-of-factly. “You’re super smart, pretty, funny, and nice. The only thing that sucks about you is your choice of drink. This shit is worse than pond water.”

You gasp in mock offense, your stomach doing somersaults at his compliments. “Okay, you are not invited to my hypothetical wedding, Mr. Meanie! How dare you insult the nectar of the gods?”

“Nectar- sweet mother of mercy,” Connie snorts, wrinkling his nose as you take another sip. “You’re too drunk to think straight, next thing you know you’ll be telling me you loved that horrible monstrosity your dear cousin calls a wedding dress.”

“I’m not drunk,” you giggle, “just a little tipsy. And no way am I ever wearing a dress like that. She looked like an over frosted cupcake-and that’s being nice.”

“Mmmmm cupcakes,” Connie sighs, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “Damn it, should’ve nicked some food, I’m hungry now.”

“Oh! I can help, one sec,” You wiggle around so you can reach your handbag, rummaging around until you find what you’re looking for. “Tada! Emergency Twinkies. I stashed some in case the food here was garbage, thankfully it wasn’t at all but you never can be too careful.” You nod sagely at the boy beside you.

“Shit, are you an angel?” Connie breaths, eyes going big and dopey as he takes the proffered treats. “Twinkies? A bunch of Twinkies in your bag. Just in case.”

“I always carry one at least,” you feel your heart going all gooey at his starry-eyed amazement. “You never know when you’re going to need a snack.”

Connie groans, low and deep in his throat, and you squirm at the sudden heat pricking at you. “You are literally the most fucking perfect girl. I am so glad I picked up this shift.”

“I’m glad I came too,” your smile is threatening to break your face in half, but you just can’t help it. There’s just something about Connie that makes you feel warm and blissful, like the first sip of perfectly prepared coffee as it bursts on your tongue.

You stare at each other, silly grins and hazy eyes and all the hope of youthful infatuation.

You don’t know who moves first.

What you do know, is that Connie kisses like he laughs; full, deep and with purpose. His mouth is warm and sweet with lingering champagne, and you whine as he cups the back of your neck to push you even closer to him.

Maybe it’s the buzz of the alcohol, or the sweet song of the crickets, or the thudding of your heart when Connie licks into your mouth like he’s going die if he doesn’t taste every inch. It could be the thrill of being desired, the delicate bloom of two young hearts connecting as if you were in some sort of sappy fairytale. You don’t really know, nor do you really care.

But you let Connie lay you down on the tablecloth, let him ruck your fancy dress up, let him touch you until you’re trembling like the leaves in the warm spring breeze.

“This ok?” He’s got one hand beside your head, the other stroking your inner thigh gently. “I uh-this wasn’t my intention, not right away anyways, but like, you’re so fucking cool and hot and I really really like you and-”

“Yes, ohmygosh yes,” you interrupt his rambling, clutching at his shoulders desperately. “I’m good. Fantastic. Wonderful. And very horny, so please hurry up.”

Connie huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you as you help him free himself from the confines of his pants. After that, only the soft light of the nearly set sun is the witness to your bodies meeting, your groans and sighs carried away on the gentle summer breeze as you let yourself drown in pleasure.

When you’re both spent you lay beside each other, panting and grinning as your heartbeats slowly return to normal. You feel floaty, fizzy with satisfaction, like you’ve downed that whole damn bottle of champagne in one gulp. You can’t remember the last time you felt so good at the hands of another, and you can feel yourself itching to grab the man beside you and have him do it again.

Suddenly, a thought niggles it’s way into your fuzzy brain, and you snicker loudly.

“I hope that’s not in response to my performance,” Connie reaches over to pinch your cheek affectionately.

“No,” you titter tipsily, swatting his hand away. “I was just thinking….now I’m a Twinkie.”

Connie scrunches his eyebrows. “What?”

A snort leaves you. “I’m a Twinkie….because now I’m filled with cream.”

You dissolve into fits of giggles as his mouth drops open in surprise.

“Ugh, no fair!! You can’t make jokes like that!” Connie digs his fingers into your ribs, grinning as you shriek in surprise. “Not unless you want me to fall in love with you!”

You squirm away from his questing fingers. “Slow your roll there, cowboy,” you warn, but your heart is light and your skin is tingling. “At least take me on a date first!”

“I suppose,” Connie sighs dramatically. “But you better reign in that charm! One more stashed snack or raunchy joke and you might never get rid of me.”

The thought isn’t unpleasant. “You better not come home with me and look inside my bedside drawer then.”

“Oh?” Connie waggles his brows suggestively. “Whatcha got in there, hmmm? Some Skittles and flavoured lube? Fuzzy Peaches and fuzzy handcuffs? Edible candy panties? Please say edible candy panties.”

You laugh as you sit up, feeling for your bag. “Why don’t you come over after work and see? Assuming you still have a job, that is. I don’t think you’re supposed to drink and have sex on the clock.” You shimmy in triumph as you fish out your phone. “Here, give me your number, Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex.”

Connie smirks, grabbing your phone as he sits and pulls his own out of his pocket. You take it eagerly. “Don’t worry, I’m still employed. Niccolo owes me like a million favors, considering I’m the reason he and his fiancé, aka my best friend, are even together. That’s why I even have this job.” He winks, handing your phone back. “Ah, the joys of nepotism.”

“Sexy,” you giggle as you swap phones. You smile when you see what he’s saved his contact as: Cute Waiter Who Is Also Pretty Good At Sex. Part of you feels a sense of disbelief; did you really just hook up with a hot, sweet, funny guy at your cousin’s wedding? And now you’re getting his phone number? After all the shit you got tonight for being the lonely single loser?

Take that, you frigid bitch.

Connie looks at his phone. He groans loudly as he reads what you’ve typed in. “You saved yourself as Twinkie ❤? Damn, woman! I’m never gonna be able to eat those delectable golden treats without popping a stiffy now. I’m rising to half mast right now just looking at this.”

You reach over and toss him the forgotten package, rolling your eyes playfully as it smacks him in face. “Down, boy. Eat your treat like you originally planned.”

Connie tosses the snack away, and you shiver as a hungry look flits across his genial face. “Yeah, these are not gonna cut it anymore. I wanna stuff my face with a different Twinkie now.”

Your insides twist violently, molten heat trickling down your spine at the implication of his words.

“Ohmygosh,” you groan, already whipping your phone back out to text your parents you’re heading home. “Fuck the rest of this, we’re going to my place. Now.”

Connie pumps his fist in the air as he jumps to his feet. “Hell yes! Do I have a horseshoe up my ass today or what?” He makes a show of trying to look behind himself, as if his behind might actually be sporting one.

Your face feels like it will break in two from the force of your smile. “Just order us a damn Uber, you goof.”

Connie salutes and begins typing rapidly on his phone. You stand, adjusting yourself to contain the mess that’s currently trying to drip down your legs. “Damn. Should have grabbed napkins along with that booze. I’m leaking like a broken facet over here.”

Connie’s phone is already in his pocket, and your heart thumps happily at the warmth of his hand as it slides into your own.

“I’m all the cleanup you need, babe,” he winks, tugging you gently into his chest. You look up at him, all smiles and flushed cheeks, mischief dancing in his adoring gaze. You don't know if you've ever felt so alive, so free, so ready for wherever he takes you.

“After all," he lowers his mouth to brush teasingly against yours, "the cream is the best part of a Twinkie.”

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie springer x you #attack on titan fic #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyojin fic #shingeki no kyojin imagine #slice of life collab #my writing

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