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ladymunson · 1 month

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One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

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Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

839 notes · View notes

kalinysu · 11 months

Note

💮 Hello, I was wondering if you could do a muzan × reader where they're married, so he's the demon king and she's the queen, and they have been together way before he was a demon, so he turned her. She's also pregnant, and he won't allow her to go on missions anymore. I would like to know if he would keep her by his side or would he lock her in her room. She can also walk in the sun. Please take your time. 💮

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏. — Muzan x F!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Gentle Muzan with slightly harsh words, stubborn reader.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Very cute request! I’ve never written for Muzan and a pregnant wife, so it should be fun. Might rewrite, this was a little lazy 😭

“Darling, please lay down.” Muzan said with a sigh. You two had been going back and forth all night, and you were keeping him quite busy, busy enough to the point he had to ignore his other tasks and focus on you in the moment. “Stop!! Don’t you have any missions for me to do?— I mean, I can’t just lay here for 8 months straight.” You said, trying to sit up and get out of bed.

Muzan kept you away from the other demons, well more specifically Douma. He was far too handsy with you even if you were of a higher status and deserved just as much respect as Muzan. He preferred keeping you locked inside of his room when he couldn’t have you near him, such as when he worked on experiments or had meetings with the ranks. You were too distracting and required every of his attention, which he was willing to give when you two were alone and he wasn’t busy.

“Woman. Lay down, now.” Muzan said, furrowing his brow a bit. His hands were placed on your shoulders, occasionally switching to your waist, trying to be as gentle as possible with you even if his words weren’t. He let out a exhausted sigh, getting into bed with you. He then wrapped his arms around you, holding you just firm enough so you couldn’t get up from the bed. “Missions—“ You said, still trying to free yourself from his grasps. “Darling, I’ve made it clear that i’m not letting you go on any missions while your pregnant, go to sleep.” He said. He was right, besides, you hadn’t slept in days, but you wanted to do something, anything but be in this room.

“Let go—stop it! Stop!”

Muzan eventually had to lock you up inside of your room, not allowing you out at all. He had practically began to neglect you after the first few days of staying by your side. He did bring you human flesh to eat sometimes, and spend short amounts of time with you before going back to his work. If you got into too much trouble while on your own, he’d have Kokushibo or Akaza watch you. And they watched you like a hawk. They treated you as if you were a human, and any minor injury would be treated majorly.

Muzan wanted to be near you, but he just had too much to do. Today though,Muzan had come to check on you while you were asleep. But when you heard the door open, you forced yourself awake. You felt Muzan pull the blankets over your body completely, before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Muzan..?” You mumbled, turning over to look up at him. He gave you a small smile, before getting into bed beside you. “Upper 1 told me you were crying today. What’s wrong?” He asked, and you could barely believe it. You were about to slap him, but he had caught your wrist. He was just about to lecture and scold you, but you had burst out into tears before he could.

He didn’t know that this was also just your hormones affecting your mood, and thought you were just sad. “Darling, come here.” He said, sitting the both of you up and pulling you closer, allowing you to cry into his chest. “Y-you barely ever stay with me anymore!!” You sobbed, gripping his shirt. “My love, you know I have things to do..” He said, gently stroking your head. He was being honest, but there was another reason. He wasn’t sure how to take care of someone he actually cared for who was pregnant, so he resorted to locking you away to keep you safe and away from others.

“My apologies. I’ll take you with me from now on, how’s that sound, hm?” He asked with a smile when you finally calmed down a bit, tilting your head up to look at him. You sniffled, before nodding, wiping away your tears.

#demon slayer #kny #muzan #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan x reader #muzan x you

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domnamewoman · 8 months

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MK1 Characters Reaction: How They Act When They Get Clingy

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

“Did you call upon me?” Liu Kang asked as he sat next to you on the couch, before positioning himself with his head resting in your lap.

You look from your phone screen down at him. “No, I didn’t call you,” you responded, baffled at where he got such an idea. “I’ve actually just been enjoying my own company for a little while. Nice and quiet.”

“You must have called me in my head then,” Liu Kang said, making no moves to get up.

You rolled your eyes as he made himself more comfortable in your lap. “That’s a very convenient excuse for you to use just to cuddle me.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, knowing he’d been caught. “Since I’m here now, I might as well stay for a bit, don’t you think?”

“I suppose you can stay lying here,” you sighed as you began running your fingers through his hair.

Liu Kang closed his eyes, “I could stay here for eons.”

You hummed thoughtfully, “Eons is a very long time, don’t you think you’d get bored of me at some point?”

“Never, I always want to be around you,” Liu Kang admitted, staring up at you lovingly.

“Y/N,” huffed Raiden as he walked into your office to see you still typing away on your computer.

You briefly looked up at him, taking note of the pout present on his face. “What’s wrong Raiden?”

“You said you would be done working over an hour ago,” Raiden sighed as he walked up behind you.

“My boss emailed me saying they wanted some documents earlier than expected, so I had to take care of it.”

“Not anymore,” Raiden said as he started massaging your shoulders, “Take a break.”

You shook your head. “Raiden I can’t just stop working because you are too clingy to be left alone.”

“Yes, you can,” Raiden reasoned as he leaned his head against your shoulder and tightly wrapped his arms around you. “I will stay here until you stop. You know I will.”

You let out a sigh knowing that he was right. “You can be so stubborn sometimes. Fine, just let me send this last document and I’ll be done.”

Raiden placed a kiss on your cheek, “And then you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“There you are, I thought you’d gone out without telling me.” Kung Lao said as he sat next to you on the bed.

“I’ve been here for over an hour. You’re not very good at seeking if you have been looking for me that long.”

“I missed you, it was lonely downstairs,” Kung Lao whispered in your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Your eyebrows furrowed at the sudden affection. “I was just in the bedroom, it’s not like I was in a different Realm.”

“I know,” he hummed, nuzzling into your neck, “it felt that way though.”

You continued to look at him in confusion as he made himself comfortable. “Either you’ve done something, or you’re about to.”

“No,” he chuckled, resting a hand against your thigh, “I just wanted to spend a bit of time with you. Is that such a crime as your boyfriend?”

You shook your head, “It’s just very unlike you to be this clingy around me.”

“People change Y/N, this is the new me.”

“Don’t just sit there,” Johnny said as he danced around the living room, swaying his hips, “come and dance with me.”

You shook your head as you remained seated on the couch, “you know I’m no good at dancing. Why don’t you show me how it’s done, and I’ll watch you from here.”

“You always say no, it’s time to say yes,” Johnny said as he suddenly pulled you up and placed his hands on your hips.

“You can’t make me dance against my will, Johnny.”

“Watch me,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “just stay nice and close to me.”

You rolled your eyes as Johnny worked you two into a two-step. “Do you really want me to dance, or is this just an excuse?”

“An excuse for what?” Johnny questioned innocently. “All I am doing is dancing with you. Whatever you think is going on here is just all in your head.”

“Sure,” you said as you nodded skeptically. “So you’re going to deny the fact that you just want to be clingy?”

“Me? Clingy? I would never be such a thing.”

“Are you sure Liu Kang got the time correct?” You ask as you look around, seeing no one in sight.

Kenshi told you that Liu Kang caught wind of a shady meet-up happening and wanted you both to spy on the dealings.

“Uh… yeah. He said they would be meeting here around this time.” Kenshi said, not meeting your eyes.

“We’ve been waiting for almost an hour though,” you sigh, honestly you were getting kind of bored.

“You know how evil-doers are, never showing up on time…”

Something was off about the way Kenshi was acting. Now that you think about it, if something was happening here, why would Liu Kang only send you two? “Kenshi… is there really a mission?”

“Fine… There is no mission,” Kenshi sighs as he looks down, “I just wanted to spend time with you alone. The guys are always around.”

You laugh, shaking your head, “You didn’t have to do all of this if you wanted to be clingy, you could’ve just asked me out on a date.” You stand up and hold out your hand to your boyfriend, “Come on, you owe me an “all you can eat” at Madam Bo’s for waiting here so long.”

“All you can eat… Madam Bo’s prices are kind of…” Kenshi stops himself as he sees your expression, “Of course, anything for my love. Let’s go.”

“You don’t seem to have a fever,” you say as you hold the back of your hand to Kitana’s forehead.

“Are you sure”–cough–”I definitely feel hot and clammy,” Kitana says as she pulls the blanket up to her chin.

“Hmm, okay then, let me go get the royal physician,” You say as you stand from the bed, heading towards the door.

“Uh no no,” Kitana reaches out to stop you, “I don’t need the physician.”

“Kitana, you might have something serious. I don’t know anything about medicine, clearly since I couldn’t even detect your fever, so I can’t help you.” You try to reason with her, worried about her condition.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious, just a little cold. Nothing some cuddles can’t fix,” Kitana suggests, smiling at you.

“How are cuddles going to help? You need medicine, some soup at the very least,” You turn to go to the kitchen, “Wait here, I will go make you something.”

“I’m not really sick,” Kitana admits as she gets out of bed and walks over to you, “I just wanted to cuddle.”

You embrace your pouting girlfriend, kissing her on the forehead. “You know, I think I feel that fever now. I believe a healthy dose of cuddles should clear it right up.”

“Wow, you look amazing,” Mileena said in awe as you came into the room, giving her a twirl to show off your outfit. “You are definitely staying by my side the entire night.”

You shook your head, “This is your first event as Empress. You have to mingle with the people and not stay glued to my side all night long, promise?”

“I can’t make any promises when you look this stunning.”

You playfully bop her nose, “Mileena, if you are going to cling to me all night, I will stay home. You can’t waste this opportunity to make a good impression on the people.”

“You might help me impress,” her eyes raked over you, “especially with how good you look.”

You roll your eyes, “Fine, but you aren’t allowed to be clingy. I’m not your priority tonight, I’m just supporting you.”

“You are always my priority,” Mileena whispered in your ear, “besides, I can cling to you and mingle with the people. I’m good at being subtle.”

“You have never been subtle in all the time I’ve known you.”

“Well,” Mileena said, guiding you to the door, “there’s a first time for everything.”

“I knew I smelled food,” Tanya said as she entered the kitchen and found you leaning over the stove, preparing dinner.

“Go away, I know what you’re doing. I don’t need your help or advice.” You said as you pushed her away when she came up behind you.

“We can cook together, it’s romantic,” Tanya persuaded.

You shook your head, knowing your girlfriend. “We don’t cook together, you always take over. I know you’re the better cook, but I want to do this for you for once.”

“Fine, I’ll be quiet,” Tanya compromised, “Just let me stay here and watch you.”

You looked at her skeptically, “You really want to watch? Fine, if you want to be clingy then I guess I’ll let you stay.”

“Yes, I want to be clingy,” Tanya smiled as she quickly pecked your lips. “I know I said I would be quiet, but that pot is bubbling almost to the point of being unsalvageable.”

You whip around to see the pot almost spilled over. “See, this is your fault for being so clingy,” You sigh as you lower the heat.

“Mhmm, sure it is.”

“Then what you want to do is grab their arm and bring it over your shoulder like this,” Bi-Han demonstrated, “After that, you can use the momentum to throw them on the ground.”

“Mhm, and why are you teaching me basic throws again?” You questioned. When Bi-Han said he wanted to do some sparing practice, this wasn’t what you had in mind.

“So you can learn them, of course.”

“Bi-Han, I’m one of the Lin Kuei’s top fighters. I know how to do basic throws.”

“Really, then show me,” Bi-Han said as he charged at you.

You quickly side-stepped him and grabbed his arm, leaning down and throwing him over your shoulder, executing the move flawlessly.

“I guess you do know them,” He grunted from the ground.

You squat down next to him, sighing, “What is really going on here, Bi-Han?”

He sat up, resting one arm on his bent knee and looking down dejectedly. “I wanted to have some extra time with you but I couldn’t pull you away from your duties unless it was for training.”

“Oh my, is the great Grandmaster being clingy?” You taunt. “Come on then. I think I need to work on my ground moves,” You said before tackling him.

“Shouldn’t we have arrived by now?” You ask Kuai Liang. You two were walking to a new restaurant, where you would be meeting Tomas and Bi-Han for dinner.

“It’s just a little further up the road.” Kuai Liang reassured.

“Hmm, didn’t Bi-Han say that it wasn’t far from the house? We’ve been walking for a while now.”

“He’s not that great with directions,” Kuai Liang dismissed, “Anyway, isn’t this nice? Look at the full moon, it’s a beautiful night.”

“Yes it is,” you said looking at the sky, “But I don’t want us to be late, maybe I should call?”

“There’s no need for that,” he insisted as he grabbed your hand, holding it as you two walked.

You nod, dropping the issue. It was a beautiful night and you enjoyed the romantic atmosphere surrounding you and your boyfriend as you walked together. That is until you spot a familiar-looking merchant’s cart. “Wait a minute, we pasted this cart before. Have we been walking in circles?”

You look at your boyfriend, who is conveniently not meeting your gaze. You stop walking and stand in front of him. “Maybe…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I wanted a little alone time with you before meeting them at the restaurant.”

“I can’t believe this,” you chuckle, playfully hitting his chest. “If your clinginess has made me miss out on the steamed buns you’re in trouble. You know Bi-Han always tries to eat all of them.”

“Are you really going out?” Tomas asked as he saw you dressed up and collecting your things to leave. “I thought we could spend the evening in and watch a movie.”

You shook your head, “Sorry baby, I’m meeting Kung Lao and Raiden at Madam Bo’s for dinner. We have had this planned for weeks, it’s the one day we are all free.”

“This is my last day free this week before I’ll be busy again.”

“I know, but we spent all day together yesterday. I’m surprised you aren’t tired of me. All of your free time is spent with me.”

“I like it that way,” Tomas pouted as he followed you around the room, “What if you invite them here instead?”

“Madam Bo has a new dish she is dying to have us try.”

“Oh… alright.”

You look up to see the dejected look on your boyfriend’s face. You couldn’t stand to see him upset.

“I suppose you could tag along. The boys wouldn’t mind.”

“Yes, that’s great. Just give me one moment,” Tomas said happily, kissing your cheek before rushing off to get ready.

“Are you sure you have time for this?” You ask Syzoth as you two walk through the farmer’s market picking out vegetables.

“Of course I do,” Syzoth reassures moving in close behind you as you look at tomatoes, “I never get to go shopping with you.”

“That’s because you’re busy being the Empress’s Mercenary,” You smile at him over your shoulder, “Which is why I’m surprised you’re free right now.”

“I know r-”

“Syzoth,” Syzoth was interrupted by someone calling his name. You both look over to see Tanya. “There you are, the Empress has been looking for you.”

You turn and raise your eyebrow at your boyfriend, “Syzoth… I thought you said you had the morning off?”

“I’ll be there in one moment,” Syzoth addresses Tanya before looking back at you sheepishly. “Uh… I kind of skipped work this morning when you told me you were headed to the market.”

“Syzoth,” You say exasperatedly, “Why would you do that?”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you. I’m always working and I… I miss you.”

You sigh, pulling your clingy boyfriend in for a kiss. “Okay, go see the Empress. I’ll make sure I stay up late tonight so we can spend some time together when you get home.” You promised.

“You really don't have to come with me," You said as you walked with Baraka. Liu Kang sent you on a simple mission and Baraka insisted on going with you.

"It doesn't hurt to have backup," Baraka reasoned.

"Yes, but I'm pretty sure I can handle this one on my own."

"I do not doubt your fighting skills. But there is always the possibility of something unexpected happening. You can not predict everything." Baraka said as he walked closer to you.

You couldn't argue with that logic. But… "You've never offered to go with anyone else on a solo mission."

"Well…" Baraka trailed off at a loss for words.

"Did you just want to spend time with me?" You ask, smiling widely at him.

“What is wrong with that,” Baraka stated, not at all ashamed, “It is not a crime for me to want to spend time with my lover.”

“No, it's not,” You agreed as you bumped your shoulder into him, “It just makes you clingy.”

Shang Tsung stared at you in annoyance. “Do you plan on turning a page anytime soon?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can’t rush a reader. I’m immersing and absorbing every detail of this story.”

“You’re doing this on purpose to tease me.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. He was right. “I’m not doing anything on purpose. I’m simply reading a book. It’s a good story, you would enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy your attention more,” Shang Tsung mumbled.

You let out a chuckle, “I never knew you could be so clingy.”

“I’m not clingy. It’s just that you have never taken this long to read a book.”

You smile as you close your book and set it down. “No, I haven’t, but it was fun seeing how far I can push you.”

“Stop pushing and come over here,” Shang Tsung replied as he opened his arms waiting for you to fall into them.

“Do you need some help?” Zeffeero poked his head in and asked for the fifth time in under an hour.

“No Zeffeero, I’m still okay,” you roll your eyes. You were rearranging your office and Zeffeero just couldn’t seem to let you be.

“Are you sure? That desk looks heavy, I’ll take it,” He said as he walked in and replaced your hands with his, “Where do you want it?”

“Up against that wall,” You point, finally giving up and letting him help. You watch as he moves the desk where you told him to.

“Is there anything else you need?” Zeffeero asks eagerly.

“No, I got it. I’m just going to put the books in these two boxes on the bookshelf.” You told him.

“I’ll help you.” He said as he started taking the books out.

You cross your arms over your chest as you look at him, “What’s up with you? Why are you being clingy all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He walks up to you and kisses your cheek, “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

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eldritch-thrumming · 2 months

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is it casual now?, pt. two

pt. one

my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?

around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.

he both loves and hates that she does.

steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.

so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.

“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.

“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.

“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.

steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”

“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”

her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”

“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”

robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”

~*~

robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.

but eddie still isn’t there.

~*~

it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.

steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.

he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.

so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.

but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.

“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.

“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“

steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.

steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.

“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.

they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.

“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.

“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.

“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.

eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.

“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”

eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.

“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”

steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.

“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.

eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.

steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.

~*~

it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.

he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.

“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.

“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.

“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”

steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.

eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”

“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.

eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”

“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.

“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”

somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.

“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.

eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”

“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?

“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.

“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.

“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”

and all steve can do is nod.

~*~

the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.

“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”

“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.

“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.

“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”

“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.

“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”

“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”

steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.

#steddie #is it casual now? steddie au #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #steve x eddie #steddie au #steddie angst #i haven’t slept and also a little high rn so if there are typos don’t tell me lol

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

Note

Hi hi! Can I request an angsty/fluff piece with Jason? Maybe he hasn't told her that he's Red Hood yet, and they want to tell him that she loves him for the first time, but with his constant disappearances at night they're thinking that he's starting to get tired of them?

This went a little too long when I decided to stop, so I might need to split this into two parts if needs be 🦦

‘Hey honey,’ you greeted Jason with a peck to the cheek, pulling away smiling brightly. ‘Are you all ready for movie night tonight? I’ve already got a couple films set up and ready to go and I promise none of them will make you cry like last time.’

Jason grimaced. Shit, he knew that something was happening tonight but couldn’t remember what and -like a dumbass- had agreed to going out on a patrol with Dick and Damian later on. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry chipmunk I can’t do movie night tonight. Can we do it next week?’ Jason hated how he was the one who made the smile upon your face disappear as quickly as it came, he hated how he was the reason why the excitement left your eyes, only to be replaced by a look of poorly concealed disappointment.

Jason hated how it seemed as of late that his commitment to being a vigilante had been the leading cause of your unhappiness. While he was out clearing Gotham almost every night, you were left in your shared apartment, left to sleep alone in a bed that was designed for two people and ponder how things could’ve gotten to this stage; wondering whether this was a relationship worth being in after all.

You sighed, trying to be understanding but how could you when this was the third time Jason had bailed on you this week. It didn’t seem fair to keep trying at this point when it seems as though you’re the only one who is actively trying to make time for each other. You had planned to tell Jason you loved him tonight but all that was thrown into the bin, all because he apparently forgot all about it. ‘It’s fine Jason, I’m sure whatever you have going on is inherently more important.’ You said, feeling more hurt than anything as you clenched your jaw to stop yourself from saying something you’ll inevitably regret.

‘I’ll make it up to you-‘

‘Would you like to know how many times you claimed that you’ll make it up to me but never have?’ You asked Jason rhetorically and watched his face further become into one of guilt. ‘Three. Times.’ You told him, holding up three fingers. ‘Once is excusable, but three times Jason. I thought you were over making false promises, much like how I’d trick myself into thinking that you would actually like to spend time with me in our own apartment, but it seems like I was wrong as per usual.’ You scoffed.

Jason tried to reach out for your hand to console you, but you immediately took it away before he could and put a good deal of distance between the two of you to show that you were in need of comfort but not from him. ‘Y/n, I’m sorry-‘

‘Don’t bother. Just make sure to have your keys on you before you leave because I wont stay up for you anymore.’ Was all you said before leaving the room to go into your room, where you’d stay until he left for the night doing god knows what. His disappearing act didn’t bother you at first but when it become more frequent and grew more obstructive when you wanted to spend the night with him, a pit in your stomach grew and it had been growing ever since followed by thoughts that doubted Jason’s loyalty to you.

Were you boring him but he didn’t have the heart to tell you? Is that why he’s been disappearing almost every night or so? Just so he could meet up with someone else behind your back and shit talk you? If that was the case then he could stay out for all you cared, you’ve given him your heart but it didn’t seem as though he couldn’t bring himself to even fake in giving a shit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile Jason felt like the biggest dickhead ever. He could tell that you were reaching the end of your rope with him and he wasn’t so sure that he could go back to living by himself if you were to ever leave him, he could try but it wouldn’t be the same when you were the reason his apartment felt like an apartment at all. And yet he has no one else to blame for this but himself.

He was the reason you could’ve have a simple date night at home.

He was the reason for your frequent disappointment.

He was the reason you no longer felt loved by him but that just wasn’t true. Jason loved you so much it physically hurt and scared the poor man of what he was willing to do for you. Jason’s love for you burned him in the most delicious way imaginable, he was left wanting for more, hooked on your love as though it was an easily addictive drug sweeping the streets of Gotham. However even Jason couldn’t ignore the wedge between him and you, a wedge that only seemed to get worse the more Jason bailed on you for his vigilante business.

As he was sulking in the fact that this might be the end of your relationship, Jason got a text from Dick asking where he was and all Jason could think of whilst grabbing his keys and leaving the apartment, was how he was going to make up for every night that you felt as though you were abandoned by him; and if anyone who knew Jason best knew he was anything but a quitter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movie night was depressing as shit when you were having it all by yourself as a way to cope with the fact that you might not be enough to keep Jason interested.

You were bundled up in bed, hugging your childhood plushie tightly against your chest as you watched a movie adaptation to one of Jason’s most favoured book out of Jane Austen‘s body of work. Hell most of the movies you’ve picked out were based on Jason’s favourite author but you weren’t enjoying it as you would if he was beside you, muttering the lines alongside the characters under his breath as he held you against his chest as though you were something precious; even going so far at to using the excuse that when a kissing scene happens you should be kissing too for a more immersive experience.

He was such a dork but he was your dork and now it feels as though he didn’t want to be called yours anymore.

You didn’t know what it was that you did for him to get bored of you but it hurt like a motherfucker and the more you thought about it the more your eyes began to well up with unshed tears. ‘What am I doing wrong snuffles?’ You brought your plushie to face you with its beady button eyes. ‘Am I really that much of a bore that he can’t bring himself to just end it? What does he get out of dragging me along? Is this some sick joke to him?’ You asked and you asked but got no response, then again that’s what you get when trying to seek answers from a weighted plushie.

‘Who am I kidding.’ You uttered defeatedly as you put down your plushie, switched off the tv after seeing that there was no point in having it on in the first place, and stared up at the ceiling as you tried to will sleep to hurry up and claim you. ‘Did you know that I was planning on telling him that I loved him?’ You asked aloud for no one in particular, smiling weakly as you wiped your eyes. ‘How stupid was it of me to think that we’d ever last. He’s obviously found someone else who doesn’t bore him as easily as I do…so why should I stay?’ You felt yourself wanting to cry again but you were too tired to give your body what it wants and tried to ignore the lump in your throat by forcing your eyes shut.

*knock, knock, knock*

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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williamsracinggf · 3 months

Text

✧.* blue raspberry *.✧

luna moved on from her blue raspberry too quick, leaving you and logan with bags of candy to finish

notes: hi i think im in love with dad logan like it's a disease atp

“what’s that in your hands?”

alex tilts his head, grinning logan lifts the tote bag in his hands, holding it on its straps to open up the bag. he takes a peek inside, greeted by the plethora of mixture of candies in the bag. there’s a mix of lollipops, and sour strips, but all in the same flavour: blue raspberry. which would make one wonder, as alex is now.

“candy,” logan sighs, shyly glancing at his teammate as his cheeks flush. “please take some.”

“you came to the right person!” alex beams, reaching in for candy before logan could even prompt him to take some. “but why do you have a bag full of candy?”

and just like that, his questions were answered when he hears heavy footsteps echoing in the silent hallway of the hotel followed by a screechy giggle. alex quickly shoves a handful of candy into the pocket of his jacket. “uncle alex! look what daddy bought me last night when we went shopping!”

logan shoots alex a knowing stare, nodding when points at the toddler running at him with fairy wings. alex nods understandingly and opens his arms up to receive the girl coming at him in a full sprint.

“hey, little luna!” alex cheers, spinning around when she jumps into his arms. “can i guess what daddy bought you last night?”

she nods, lips pressed together into a thin line as she shakes with excitement. “you’ll never guess — mummy couldn’t get it right last night.”

alex looks at her eyebrows raising as he thinks. he glances over at logan, gesturing at the pink headband in her hair before he returns his gaze to luna. “is it the pretty headband in your hair?”

luna gasps loudly, throwing her head back as her eyes widen. “you got it right!” she takes it off, messing up the hair that took you several minutes to do to show alex. “isn’t it pretty?”

“aw, luna,” you sigh, closing the door behind you as you step out of your hotel room. “you messed up your hair.”

luna mutters an apology, wriggling in alex’s arms as she reaches out towards where you are.

“is all of this your candy, luna?” alex asks, putting her down to her feet. he points at the candy. “you don’t like blue raspberry anymore?”

the toddler sighs heavily, slumping her shoulders as she drags her feet over to logan. “no, strawberry is my favourite. that’s mummy and daddy’s candy,” she mutters devastatingly, holding logan’s hand. “because it’s pink.”

alex hums, glancing at you with a smile. “i’ve got an idea how you can get rid of all that candy.”

you throw your head back, sighing in relief. he can’t believe his eyes when you lift another tote bag from behind you, weighed down by the sheer amount of candy inside.

“really? thank god.”

he turns back to logan, raising an eyebrow. alex reaches his hand out towards you and takes the tote bag into his hand. “you buy luna too much candy.”

“what can i say,” logan shrugs, bending down to pick up luna. “what she wants, she gets.”

alex keeps his word about knowing how to get rid of the candy, though. and it’s taken luna off from your hands too, allowing you to hang out with lily elsewhere without the screeching toddler.

they’re in the middle of a fan signing, luna sitting at the edge of the table with the tote bags filled with candy between her legs. she’s muttering something under her breath as she rummages through the bag, something about being a driver and her name along with a present.

in reality, alex had given her a script to greet the fans coming in for a meet and greet. she is the face seen before him and logan.

“hi!” luna greets a girl with a toothy smile, holding her balled fist up. “i’m the new williams driver — luna sargeant. i have a present for you.”

the girl tilts her head, raising an eyebrow as alex perks up behind luna. “she’s replacing logan for the second half of the year.”

“that’s my daughter,” logan laughs, patting the blonde’s head. “she’s giving out candy.”

“it’s blue, like williams,” luna giggles, slowly opening up her palm to present a single blue raspberry candy. it’s not that that’s all she wants to give, it’s that it’s all her hand can fit. “how many do you want?”

“can i have 2 please?”

“yes, please,” logan sighs exasperatedly, leaning his head on luna’s back. “take 5, even. we have too much candy.”

“no, daddy,” luna turns around to logan with furrowed eyebrows and pouted lips, “she said 2. not 5.”

logan raises his eyebrows, shoving a giggling alex away. “ah. sorry.”

“here you go,” luna reaches forward before abruptly waving goodbye to her. she beckons for the next group of fans forward, excitedly screeching as she gives out more candy.

her favourite part, undoubtedly, is introducing herself as her father’s replacement for the rest of the year. but she has a new favourite: getting asked for her autograph on top of her dad’s and uncle’s. it’s a very messy — and very big — ls2 written in the pink marker that logan had kept in his pocket just for her. it’s not her first time getting asked to sign something randomly.

at the end of the couple hours, logan would greet you at the hotel with a snoring luna in his arms, body limp as she drools on his shoulder. which, you very much appreciate that she is in a deep sleep, seeing that it is nearing her nap time.

it’s always been one of your hardest struggles to get luna to take a nap. especially when you’re out in another country when the timing has her disoriented with the hours.

she’s also been one to insist that she’s awake, yet falling asleep at dinner in a restaurant with food still in her mouth. she’s a character that seems to be very out of place when put between you and logan.

“did you see our team instagram?” alex giggles in a whisper as you take the girl into your arms. “she was a fan favourite.”

“i’d imagine. she’s always been quite the opposite of logan and i,” you laugh as logan very slowly (and carefully) moves her over to you.

logan nods in agreement. “she made many friends today.”

it’s always been a wonder how extroverted luna has gotten over the years, especially when you trace it back to how you and logan typically are. you’re more the quiet and silent type — even relying on oscar and his friends to talk to one another for you just to set up a date.

but luna’s very excited and very loud. and friendly. too friendly to the point that sometimes she watches the race from the other team’s garages. once even sitting on susie wolff’s lap the entirety of a race (and also having susie carry her back to the williams racing home when she’d fallen asleep after the race ended). she has also certainly gotten along well with jack wolff, who is always sighted with her in weird corners of the paddocks with their toys laid out on the ground.

“oh, mummy,” luna mumbles, her eyes struggling to open as she tries to look around. she giggles lazily as her eyes flutter close. “i fell off the table.”

“what?” you furrow your eyebrows as you try to meet the 2 men’s guilty eyes. “what does she mean by she fell off the table?”

alex looks around, scratching his neck as he looks away from you. which leaves logan, who was trying the same tactic as the thai, sighing as you dart your hand out to hit his shoulder for an explanation.

it’s never out of the question that luna fell off that table by herself. there are several times where you and logan turned away for a split second to grab something and suddenly luna’s missing from the spot you last saw her. many of those times, she’s put herself in great danger.

at this point, it’s just luna.

“she uh,” logan smiles sheepishly, “giggled too hard and rolled off the table.”

you sigh with a small smile and shake your head. “yeah, that’s believable.”

the next morning, luna walks ahead with the familiar tote bag of candy loosely hung over her shoulder. her first victim is toto, who was simply strolling about the paddocks, on his way to probably a meeting with his team.

but her voice was demanding when she called for the mercedes team principal, giggling when she was greeted by toto with a smile. unfortunately for both of you, jack wolff has been a frequent playmate in the paddocks. so luna is more than acquainted with the toto wolff.

toto simply shakes his head and laughs when logan starts his string of apologies for the sudden intrusion. if there is anyone else who understands the sheer will of toddlers, it would be him. she offers him a handful of candy, this time with you taking over the bag so she can use both her hands to give them out, and toto promises that he will give jack some of his shares.

which sent luna into a frenzy once toto started walking away, running after him with another handful of candy, crying that this one is for jack and jack only. the initial share that he got can be halved between him and susie, if needed.

her next victim wound up being fernando, the aston martin driver willingly taking the handful of candy handed to him with a grin. luna simply waves him goodbye, without forgetting to tell him that uncle lance should also be getting a good couple of candies from what she gave to him.

their third and final victim is max, found loitering outside the williams racing home after having a chat with uncle alex. he greets luna excitedly, opening his arms up for a willing hug and brushing her hair. the toddler didn’t say much, just handed him a handful of candy as she gawks up at him before running off to where alex was holding the door open for your family.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to call for luna again to speak to max properly. the blonde simply shakes her head as she hid behind alex’s legs, then promptly ran towards the stairs to head to logan’s driver’s room.

“i’m sorry. she’s not usually like that,” you apologise, pushing logan away to chase after the girl that’s suddenly far out of reach as she runs deeper into the racing home. “it’s unlike her to get shy so quick.”

max laughs, waving away your concerns. he also knows a thing or two about shy toddlers. “it’s not a problem. i don’t really see her often, anyway.”

after you bid him goodbye, you pad along into the racing home in concern. you find the trio by the couch, alex laughing while logan tried to calm the crying 4-year-old. you can hear luna’s sobs as she clutches onto logan’s sweatshirt, chest heaving as her cries silent the room.

“oh, lulu, what’s wrong?” you coo, heart melting at the sight.

“we found out why she ran away from max.” alex meets your eyes before bursting into another fit of giggles, holding a pillow to his face to muffle the evidence of how much he is enjoying all of this.

logan hits alex’s knee, the older driver simply shrugging guiltily before hushing his giggles.

“lulu, what happened?” you hum, taking the empty spot on the couch next to alex. you lean towards logan and rub circles over her back. “you wanna tell mummy what happened?”

“i already told daddy what happened.”

“alright,” you nod, sitting back on the couch. you glance at logan, brushing his fingers through luna’s hair as he sits on the ground. he nods at you reassuringly as luna continues to cry into his shoulder.

luna isn’t typically a crier, so you wonder what it could be.

logan laughs, spilling into the driver’s room with alex behind him.

“aw, you’ll never believe what logan did at the fan zone,” alex laughs, as he spots you. “he gave out all the candy, so that’s the one good thing that happened.”

“one?” logan cries, shutting the door behind him. “you mean the only good thing that happened.”

“what did you do?” you sigh, shaking your head as they come in and crash on separate couches.

logan approaches you, slinging his arm lazily around your shoulder as he presses a kiss on your cheeks. “i hit someone in the head with a lollipop.”

“you what?” you scream, flinching back. “i told you to give away the candy — not give someone a concussion with it!”

logan laughs sheepishly, sucking in a breath as a memory of the incident flashes in his head. alex speaks up first: “in logan’s defense, it was a simply bad throw. instead of tossing it up, like normal people typically would, he threw it forward. with vengeance.”

you turn your head in concern to sigh at logan with disappointment. he simply shrugs. “he got a bag of free signed merch and candy for that. like… it’s kinda okay.”

“he did not think it was okay, for the record,” alex points out. “he panicked for like 10 minutes before the marketing and pr team figured out what to do.”

“he looked angry,” logan mutters. “you know i can’t fight.”

“it’s alright,” you pat his knee with your lips pressed into a thin line, “the important thing is that we finally got rid of all that blue raspberry candy.” you throw your head back. “finally. after 2 weeks.”

logan looks around the room, only then noticing the eerily silence of his room. “hey, where’s luna?”

“ah, george has taken the liberty of babysitting again,” you hum with a proud nod. “i got a really good 2-hour nap in.”

“does that mean you’ll stay up with her, love?” logan turns to you with a hopeful smile, dropping immediately when you slowly turn your head with a scowl. “no, yeah, i like staying up with luna. for sure. i like bluey.”

alex points at you with a sly smile. “walk him like a dog, sis.”

you scrunch your nose with a giggle. “i know, thank you.”

there’s a soft knock on the door, followed by the rattling of the doorknob. you can hear george and luna bantering at the other side of the door.

“lulu, you can’t just try and open the door when they haven’t answered.”

“they’re taking too long to answer. i know they’re inside — i heard mummy.”

“but you knocked. you’re supposed to wait for them to let you in.”

“but they’re–“ you hear luna sigh. “okay.”

she knocks again, this time slightly rougher than before as the sound echoes in your room. “mummy! let me in please! uncle george is being mean to me!”

“what? no, i wasn’t!”

logan laughs, pulling the door open. “lulu!”

“daddy!” luna shrieks, throwing herself onto logan’s legs. she peeks past logan’s legs and grins at you. “mummy! you’re here! i’m hungry.”

you nod. “i’ve got your snack here,” you pat logan’s backpack. “did you have fun with uncle george?”

you watch luna slowly thread over to you, glancing over her shoulder at george with a side eye. “at first.”

george gasps, looking over at alex with a hand over his chest. “can you believe this kid?”

“yes, actually,” alex says, looking up at his best friend dead in the eye. “she’s saying all the things i don’t dare to say to you because you’re my friend.”

luna turns around again, eyebrows furrowed. “i gave away candy today, you know.”

george narrows his eyes into a glare. “i heard. i didn’t get any.”

she simply shrugs, hopping over to you as she climbs on your lap for snack time. “i know.”

“so, why did luna cry this afternoon?” you hum, crawling into bed as logan opens his arms out for you. you drop yourself on his body as he wraps his arms around you. “was it serious?”

logan begins to laugh before he can even fully explain to you what had happened. you had to smack him on the chest to quiet him down, afraid that you’d wake up the sleeping 4-year-old sleeping in the other bed.

“what is so funny?” you lift your head to glare at him, lips pouted out.

logan grins, lifting his hand to pinch your cheek. “you look just like luna, love.”

“i’m gonna be a lot like her if you don’t tell me why my baby cried.”

“okay, okay,” logan laughs, reeling you in again to let you lie on his chest. “she thinks max is cute.”

you guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. your lips stretch into a small smile, slowly turning to logan. “she takes after her mother, i guess.”

“hey! that’s not nice!” logan whispers, squishing your cheeks. he wraps his arm around your shoulders and holds you tight. “you’re married to me, remember? you can’t have max.”

“oh, i’m just supporting luna,” you giggle, covering your mouth as you watch logan grow frustrated. “can’t let my girl have a crush all by herself.”

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @mclarengf

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #ls2 #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke mab #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines

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forever-rogue · 5 months

Note

I don’t know if your still taking request about Miguel but im going to shoot my shot 🕷️🕸️

What about a request where after arguing with the reader (hater to lovers) and he falls into a small crack of the universe and gets a glimpses of married life with her and them having kids. Then he realizes he doesn’t hate her🥲

Totally okay if you don’t want to write it 😊😊

AN | Miguel really is just a big old softie at heart! I hope you enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Miguel x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main, Spider-Man

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Yeah?” you tried to glare at Miguel with as much venom as possible. Judging from the unimpressed look on his face you realized your words probably didn’t land how you wanted them to, “well…well you’re big and stupid! And ugly.”

You heard a snicker from behind you and quickly turned to glare at Peter. He straightened up and cleared his throat immediately. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a smirk as you sighed internally, “that’s the best you could do?”

“I, I…umm…”

“No matter how convincing your words or points are, I’m not changing my mind,” he pushed past you, not even bothering to look you in the face. The rest of the spiders all parted for him, already whispering among themselves, “you’re off any missions from here on out.”

“I hate you!” you shouted at his retreating back, trying to swallow down the tears that threatened to well up and pour down your cheeks.

“I know you do,” of course he heard. Curse the super hearing, “I hate you too.”

You scoffed and turned on your heel, storming off to go anywhere but here. You hated Miguel, you hated his stupid face and his stupid rules and everything about.

Well, that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of anyway. But you knew, deep down, that it wasn’t true. You didn’t truly hate him. You didn’t think you were capable of doing that.

“Do none of you have anything better to do?!” you shouted loudly, waving your hand around as you stormed out to go…anywhere but there. You just knew that Peter and Miles were following after you, accompanied by some small coos from Mayday.

Only once you were back out in the fresh air, which currently did little to help your nerves, did you turn around to face your friends. You held up with your hands and shrugged at them, “well? Say what’s on your mind then.”

“That was…a lot,” Miles scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he looked at Peter, “what happened?”

“Is this about what happened in-”

“Yes,” you hung your head with a heavy groan, “this is about Shanghai. Somehow it is all my fault and that means I cannot ever do anything again.”

“But it was…everyone’s fault,” the boys exchanged a look as Mayday made a small sound of confusion, “not just yours.”

“I’m well aware of that…I thought everyone was aware of that, but for some reason Miguel is not,” you scoffed at the sheer thought of him, “he has this like personal vendetta against me and I have no clue why. But I am so tired of it. Maybe he’s right though, maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

“You’re not seriously considering leaving?” Miles’ entire face dropped as you shrugged, “I’m sure he’ll be over it soon.”

“Even so…maybe it’s time I don’t do this anymore,” you waved your hand around, “maybe it’s time I’m not some sort of fool with a weird radioactive spider bit doing vigilante shit.”

“But…but-” Peter had no clue how to follow that up - he’s been through those exact thoughts several times before, “you can’t just leave.”

“I dunno Peter,” you whispered, “it’s a lot to think about. But for now I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Promise you won’t leave leave without saying goodbye?” you’d miss these two most of all if you did leave. But you had your own decisions to make.

“Swear on it,” that much at least was a promise.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Miguel stopped dead in his tracks as he looked across the park. Part of him was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but no - this was a reality that was simply different from his own. Anything could happen…and apparently anything did happen.

Because there you were, crouched down and talking to a small boy that was staring back excitedly with a big smile on face. You reached out and ruffled his dark hair before he ran off again, running towards the jungle gym. You straightened back up and shook your head fondly. But then - then - the real surprise came…in the form of himself.

Alternate universe Miguel walked up to you and threw an arm around your shoulders as you shook on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. No fucking way. His breath hitched in his throat as he continued to watch the two of you, attempting to process what in the actual hell was happening. That’s when he noticed the bands on both of your fingers and the fact that the small boy you had been talking to looked suspiciously like a combination of both of you.

“No way,” the actual Miguel ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, “there’s no way.”

But…this was a different reality and he knew, maybe better than anybody, that anything was possible. He hung his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose; he was here for a reason, for a job, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted, and potentially ruin any canon events. He could feel the pull of curiosity getting the better of him; this was definitely not a reality that was any of his bingo cards.

Really though, it should have been. Just because you believed he was an asshole, and let’s be honest he was, didn’t mean that he didn’t care about you. He probably cared too much if he was being honest, which had led to him being overprotective of you and then…led to the current situation at hand. But you had fallen into the belief that he hated you and then you started to hate him and…yeah. Things were a mess essentially, but he could at least rest easier knowing that you were safe.

He was going to turn around and complete what he was supposed to, really he was, but Miguel also knew that if you fell out of his view he’d probably never mind you again. And he had to know the current state of affairs between the two of you was.

With a heavy huff, he camouflaged himself and hopped into a tree closer to the two of you. It wasn’t spying or anything…it was just gathering some intel. Sure, yeah, that’s what he was going to go with.

“Did you get everything for dinner, amor?” you raised an eyebrow and looked at him curiously (he’d been on the receiving end of that look so many times), “and don’t even bother lying to me.”

“Of course I did,” Miguel knew that he was lying. He knew himself well enough.

“Miguel,” you huffed and he groaned lightly, “you didn’t get anything yet, did you?”

“I haven’t gotten anything,” he admitted and Miguel couldn’t help but laugh at himself, “I’m sorry, amor! I got so busy and I had Diego and…yeah.”

“Yeah?” your hands settled on your waist as you sighed heavily, but with nothing short of fondness. You reached over and patted his cheek gently, “how about I take Diego and then you can go to the store? The big dinner is tomorrow and we need to get started on everything tonight. Think you can handle that, big guy?”

Actual Miguel couldn’t help but laugh at this version; he was whipped for you. The real, or whatever you wanted to call him, wasn’t quite ready to fully admit that just yet. But deep down inside he knew it was true.

“Okay,” he leaned over and kissed you softly, “whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Smart man,” you beamed at him and he wrapped his arms around your shoulder.

Miguel was watching with wide, curious eyes as the whole thing unwrapped. Eventually the two of you left, the small boy - who he assumed was named Diego - in tow. He wanted to keep following you but he knew that wouldn’t be productive in any sense. Instead he was just feeling all sorts of things.

He was so intent on wanting to learn every little bit of your life in the short time he had; he didn’t even hear Miles pop up behind him.

“What are you doing?” Miguel startled so harshly that he almost fell out of the tree. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and glared at the young spider, “everything alright here?”

“What are you…why - nevermind,” Miguel knew better than to question what Miles was doing there, “don’t sneak up on people like that, Miles.”

“Sorry,” the boy didn’t sound sorry at all, “you’ve been gone for a while and this seemed pretty simple so I wanted to make sure that nothing had gone wrong.”

“It’s fine,” Miguel hissed and looked around surreptitiously to make sure you and this Miguel had disappeared from view, “I just got a little…distracted.”

“Distracted?” Miles repeated. That was odd…Miguel was always all business and no play. Something was definitely going on, “are you sure you’re alright?”

When Miguel didn’t respond Miles looked around to see what could have gotten the man so distracted. He didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and wasn’t able to draw any meaningful conclusions. Miguel turned to the younger boy with reddened cheeks and wild eyes, “yes. Now go back and focus on your jobs. I’ll be back soon.”

“If you’re-”

“Positive,” Miguel narrowed his eyes in a glare, “just let me do my work.”

“Okay…” Miles didn’t want to go, but Miguel already seemed annoyed and he wasn’t going to push the issue, “see you later.”

“Goodbye Miles,” he watched him pointedly until Miles left again. Once the boy was gone, he groaned loudly and smacked his head against the tree.

The worst part of all was that Miguel had now lost track of you. He huffed heavily…it looked like his personal espionage quest was finished for now.

Even if he never saw you again, at least he would always have this memory of you.

He just hoped that the you back in your world was willing to talk to him, despite how awful he had been.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What are you doing here?” your entire face fell as you looked at Miguel standing on your doorstep. You sighed heavily, and without waiting for an answer, started to close the door, but Miguel stopped you by lodging his foot in the door, “Miguel.”

“Don’t go,” he barked out, surprising both of you. His face warmed up as you opened and closed your mouth a few times. Your frown quickly returned and you crossed your arms over his chest, “I mean don’t…please don’t leave the team.”

“Give me one good reason,” you waited for an answer, but instead you were met with silence. You could tell that he was struggling with trying to say something but still you didn’t receive an answer. Scoffing, you tried to push him, “exactly. You don’t need me. Goodbye.”

“I don’t want you to go!” that caused you to stop in your tracks as your mouth dropped open. Miguel groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face at the sudden and seemingly unexpected confession. He waited for you to yell at him or something - anything. But instead you studied him intently.

“Say it again,” your voice was less confident than you’d intended. You cringed internally but the expression on Miguel’s face made you feel slightly less awkward, “please?”

“I don’t want you to go,” he repeated softly, a small little half smile pulling up the corners of his mouth, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a nervous laugh, “you are Miguel.”

“And I’m sorry,” you hadn’t been expecting his first confession, and you definitely hadn’t been expecting an apology. Maybe you’d fallen into the wrong universe without knowing it, “so…yeah.”

“Are you going to kiss me or…?” you knew there was still a lot to go over but right now you really wanted this. You’d both been dancing around this for far too long.

His hands found your face and he kissed you without hesitation. Apparently that was all he needed in order to finally make his move. It was almost embarrassing how often he thought about and wanted this. You hesitated for a moment before kissing him back and jumping into his arms, eager to have him all over you.

He kissed like he did everything else - with purpose and his whole heart in it. It didn’t even phase you that you were making out in the middle of the hallway of your apartment building. Neither of you pulled apart until you were desperate for a breath of air.

Miguel set you back down and the two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of what exactly to say. He hadn’t thought this far - he definitely hadn’t thought he’d get to this point.

“What changed your mind?” you asked quietly and his eyes widened in surprise at your question. Not that it was a weird question.

“I’m not sure you’d believe it,” you couldn’t help but laugh at that before gesturing around and between yourselves.

“Miguel,” you dropped your voice so only the two of you could hear, “we have spider abilities and can travel between different universes. What could possibly that’s so crazy and I wouldn’t believe it?”

“You sure you want to hear it?”

“Duh.”

“That job I went on,” you huffed slightly because it was that very job that he’d forbidden you from going on, “I saw something.”

“Let me guess,” you had to hold back your giggles as you figured out exactly where this was going, “you found us and we happened to be married. Maybe with a kid?”

“H-how did you know?!”

“Because,” you opened the door and gestured for him to follow you inside, “in almost every universe I’ve gone to where we’re there we’ve been…together.”

“Oh,” his cheeks turned red as closed the door and leaned against it, “oh.”

“Oh,” you teased in return, “I wondered if you’d ever notice. You know what that means, right?”

“What does it mean?”

“I think it means you should kiss me,” there was a coquettish look on your face as he swallowed thickly, “unless you don’t want to?”

“I want to,” he stepped closer to you as you smiled up at him, “I really want to.”

“So do it.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara imagine #spiderman 2099 #oscar isaac

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cameronspecial · 4 months

Note

Rafe x reader where they are friends since in diapers, he’s always been super protective of her and when they were younger he acted super though while she was shy, he was kinda like a shield for her. Has they grow up, puberty hits, and obvi Rafe start to get together with girls but he’s still protecting her from guys that she could potentially get with. One day an argument sparks up and he admits he loves her.

Can't Deal With Your Shit

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Masterlist

They’ve always been there for each other, from diapers to braces to the stress of waiting for university decisions. As Y/N started to enter puberty, Rafe became more protective of her. He hates if she is alone in a room with another man and always tries to intervene when that happens. The mention of her name in any male group gets questioned by him and he won’t let go until the other males promise to let her be. Hypocritically, he lets himself be all over other girls with or without Y/N’s presence. Y/N appreciated his protectiveness as a pre-teen; however, she is now in her early twenties and has never been on a date before because Rafe keeps scaring everyone off. She brings up this point with him a few times, but he always brushes it off saying that she needs his protection from the asshole guys out there. However, she has met her breaking point. They are at a party that his fraternity is hosting and even though he is making out with a girl, he still takes time to send a glare to any guy, who tries to approach Y/N. She decides it is time to make her thoughts clear to the boy and storms over to him.

When he realizes she is coming over, Rafe sends the brunette he is kissing away. Y/N grabs the back of his collar and starts pulling him upstairs to his bedroom. The door thuds with her harsh shove. She finally lets go of his shirt with a cross of her arms. “I can’t deal with your shit, Rafe. Your protectiveness isn’t cute anymore and it boards on smothering. I’m twenty-one and I’ve never kissed anyone because any guy who so much looks at me is chased away by you!” she screams, annoyance dripping from her voice. Rafe shakes his head, “You don’t get it. Those guys don’t have good intentions. They just want to hurt you.” “No! You don’t understand how it makes me feel so unwanted. How I feel so lonely because while you are off galavanting with all your girls, I am by myself. How you make me think that I’m naive and stupid because I can’t care for myself,” she cries in a raised voice. Her frustration is on display with the tears forming in her eyes and Rafe stands there. His mouth hinges open while he is processing everything his best friend just told him. He can’t believe this is how he made her feel and he is kicking himself for being the reason for her tears.

She watches as he steps forward to take her into his arms. He presses a kiss to her forehead, resting his chin on her head, “I’m so sorry that I’ve made you feel that way.” He pulls away from her and holds her at arm's length. He pushes her hair away from her face so it rests behind her ear. “I really have been an overbearing asshole, haven’t I?” he begins. “But I need you to know that you aren’t unwanted. That you don’t have to be alone and that I know you can take of yourself.” She looks at him with glossy eyes, “Then why do you do all that?” “Because I’m selfish and can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else, but I also know that I don’t deserve you so I can’t do anything about how I feel about you,” he explains. She takes a step forward, pressing her chest against his, “And how do you feel about me?” “Like every time I look at you, the world stops turning. Like I can’t let any air into my lungs unless you send me your daily good morning text. Like I would burn down the world if you asked me to,” for his last confession he brings his mouth close to his ear. “Like I love you more than anyone in this world.”

He can see the desire in her eyes and decides to put her out of her misery, connecting their lips in a warm embrace. Her arms wrap themselves around his neck to bring him impossibly closer. She is so glad that she has never kissed anyone else before because it makes this one ten times more meaningful to her. Not only is it her first one, but also the catalyst for her new story with Rafe. One with a little less envying other girls and a little more being the envy of other girls. One where she gets to stand by Rafe’s side as he scares others away, instead of watching him do so from the sidelines.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

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n-agiz · 1 year

Text

HIDDEN IN PLAIN SIGHTㅤ boyfriend! fushiguro toji x fem! reader — smut [ 0.7k+ wc ] cws public sex + risky sex + exhibitionism + creampies + lots of bickering, pls don't take this too seriously bc i didn't either lmao ! MDNI

ㅤtoji's ideas were more often than not odd, but you had to admit that even through his craziness, the man knew how to give you a great time.

you avoided going out with toji as much as you could — not because you were ashamed of your boyfriend in any way, but because he had a chronic lack of common sense.

“toji stop for the love of god! there’s people around” you half whispered half screamed, pushing his built body as far away from you as the cramped cubicle allowed you to. they were designed for one person to stand inside them while trying on clothes, not for two people to be inside, and this was the first time where that fact became painfully obvious in your eyes.

“i don’t believe in god sweetheart, you know that” toji said through a grin, putting way less effort into trying to conceal his voice to a lower tone, especially when compared to you.

“that’s not the point”

“then what is the point?”

“that we can’t fuck with this many people around!”

toji laughed at your attempts to hide your hysteria, watching as you resigned to half shouting instead of letting your voice rise to the volume you would usually allow it to while reprimanding him, all while also having to focus on getting dressed and pushing your boyfriend away any time he tried to touch you.

“it’s more fun that way though, you know i’ve always wanted to fuck with an audience”

“today is not the day we’re gonna do that, i’m sorry to break it to you”

“you sure about that?”

and exactly because your boyfriend was most definitely the incarnation of some demon to at least some degree, not more than a few minutes were necessary before he proved you to be completely wrong.

“look at me and tell me this doesn’t feel good, angel. just try to do that”

your arms burned from holding yourself up with your palms pressed against the wide mirror in front of you, legs shaking and knees buckling all while your eyes grew glossy, their corners burning as you bit harshly into your lower lip, keeping in any moan that attempted to escape.

how toji managed to stay so put together all while making a complete mess out of you was absolutely beyond you — but one thing you were sure of, he was driving you insane all while so effortlessly making you feel as if you had finally found heaven on earth.

“not gonna bicker with me anymore? weird, you’re usually more feisty than this”

“shut the fuck up toji before i slap you and your naked ass out of this dressing room”

“really? i wanna see you try to do that” he replied, fingers digging deeper into where they held at your hips while delivering a particularly hard thrust, grunting lowly against your ear, eyes staying glued to yours through the reflection on the mirror facing you both.

“fuck you”

“you already are!”

toji’s enthusiasm and smirk annoyed you, but at the same time, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully care, the snap of his hips into yours and the pleasure it gave you entirely too entrancing. the drag of his cock in and out of you was heavenly, and the constant reminder that you needed to stay quiet so you wouldn’t get caught was surprisingly arousing, more of your slick gushing out any time you reminded yourself that the only thing separating you two from complete strangers was a thin curtain.

how you managed to stay up long enough to not only reach an orgasm but also be able to feel toji filling you up was something you weren’t sure off — you just knew that by the end of it you were not satisfied like supposed, instead feeling greedier than you were at the beginning.

“aren’t you such a naughty girl” he grinned, one hand on your waist while the other found it’s place between your thighs, stuffing two fingers inside you to stop his cum from spilling out, humming as he felt you kiss down the side of his neck, pressing your chest into his.

“this is all your fault”

“it better be, wouldn’t want my girlfriend all horny in a dressing room over some random guy”

“just shut up toji, you talk too much”

“but also fuck you better than anyone ever could, so are you really gonna complain?”

N-AGIZ '23ㅤ REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED !

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greynatomy · 7 months

Text

luck of the irish

katie mccabe x reader

i’m having sm trouble writing rn that i feel like i’m just rambling when writing at this point. hope it makes sense for y’all

part 2 part 3

———

“Come on. Please. For me?” You ask the two people on a video call with you

Your best friends, Selena and Taylor, and you are having a virtual hangout, seeing as you all live in different places.

“What’s in it for us?” Selena asks, taking a sip of her wine.

“Absolutely nothing, but you get to go to England.”

“And what are we gonna do? Sit and watch you ogle your girlfriend for like two hours.”

“Exactly.”

“Stop teasing me. You can’t hardly blame me though, my girlfriend is hot. And y’all are just bitter that you’re single.”

“Hey! I’m not anymore.”

“Shocker!” You say sarcastically. “You’ve been going to your boyfriend’s games so much and brought us with you, now it’s my turn.”

“Sel, you need to get yourself an athlete.”

“I know.” She whines, extending the ‘o’. “You guys need to set me up with someone.

“You might catch the eyes of some footballers if you come here.”

“We’re gonna be in so many news headlines.”

“Just gotta make sure we don’t look stupid in them.”

———

The Arsenal Women’s team are all on the pitch, warming up for their match. All of a sudden, the crowd throughout the stadium starts cheering, confusing all the players and staff on the pitch.

Looking all around, the crowd is watching the big screen. There you are, with your two best friends, all completely oblivious to what’s happening. The three of you were too preoccupied doing the marshmallow game to notice all the eyes on you. Well, to be fair, you all grew up with eyes always on you that you all learned to block it out.

“Stop fucking it up Taylor. You’re like the whole music industry, where’s the rhythm?”

“Fuck you! I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my Mom.”

“Okay! Let’s just try it again okay?”

“I’ll start. One marshmallow.”

“Check it out.”

“Woo.”

Down on the field, Katie watches the big screen, not being able to stop the huge grin of amusement on her face.

“Dude! There’s no way that’s actually Y/N Y/LN, Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift.”

“I mean, if you open your eyes you would see that it actually is.” Caitlin shoves Katie away because of her sarcastic response.

———

Nothing really happens for the first half, but as soon as the second half starts, Arsenal in playing like they’ve got some fresh pairs of legs on them.

“Now I understand why people watch sports.” Taylor says loudly.

“Dates an athlete and is now obsessed with sports.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“But seriously. I’ve never watched a sport on my life until I met Katie. And it’s a plus she looks hot doing it.”

———

We’ve got McCabe, Katie McCabe I just don’t think you understand she plays out on the wing, she hits it with a zing we’ve got Katie McCabe

You started chanting with all the fans, encouraging your friends to join in.

“C’mon guys! Just like I taught you!”

———

Arsenal eventually won from a banger from McCabe, who was now getting interviewed.

“Katie, good game today. You scored the game winning shot, how’d that feel?”

“Oh, em, I was just doing what I usually do. But I’ve actually got my girlfriend here, so I had to put on a bit of a show for her.”

“Oh! Wow! Well, thank you for your time Katie.” The reporter says a bit shocked at the news.

Katie walks into the locker room, everyone is just sat at their cubby, cooking down from the match, when a knock is heard from the door.

“You girls decent?” Jonas’ voice comes through the door.

“Yeah!”

“Alright, well, we’ve got some guests that would love to meet you all.”

You, Taylor and Selena walk through the door being met by the whole team. The team fan girls for a bit, the team’s social media videographer catching it all on camera.

After greeting everyone, you walk over to where Katie is still sat in her cubby and place yourself on her lap, her arms immediately wrapping around your waist.

Her teammates are too preoccupied with Selena and Taylor to notice the two of you, but both your friends know you like to wander off, instantly noticing you weren’t next to them anymore.

Looking around, she sees you with your girlfriend whispering in her ear that has her biting her lip.

“Oh my god! Stop flirting in front of other people please!” Taylor speaks out, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room.

“You’re just mad cause your man who’s not your man is off playing fake football and not with you.”

“Oh, she got you there.” Selena laughs at Taylor’s offended face, giving you a high five.

“We’re no longer friends.” Taylor pouts, crossing her arms across her chest.

“You’ll get over it cause you love me.” You wrap her in a hug, Selena joining in. “Okay, enough of that. Can we all take a group picture?” You ask the Gunners. “I’ve gotta cook dinner.”

After the photo, the three of you bid farewell to the team, you giving Katie a quick kiss and a ‘see you later.’

“Actually, can I go with you? I’ll just shower at home.” Katie asks, packing her things.

“C’mon. Bye guys!” You wave at everyone.

“See you soon!” Katie leaves after you.

The team was silent for a bit after the four of you left, not knowing how to process that their Irish teammate has a girlfriend and who her girlfriend is.

“That was unexpected.”

“Indeed.”

“How’d Katie get a girl like her?” Beth asks, not quite understanding.

“It’s probably the luck the Irish have.”

“And Y/N is her pot of gold.”

“Damn.”

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccard

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lovebugism · 1 year

Note

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever.

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems.

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore.

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you.

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough. You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against.

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles).

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into.

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary.

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you.

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her.

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips.

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means.

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you.

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds.

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about.

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right.

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week.

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now.

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie.

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you.

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call.

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.”

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting.

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer.

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way.

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye.

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm.

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing.

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college.

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs.

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be.

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching.

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully.

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease.

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago.

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need.

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret.

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure.

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?”

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading — and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly.

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious.

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for.

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry.

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him.

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him.

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so.

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes.

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you.

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it.

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all.

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?”

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats.

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling.

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day.

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down.

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone.

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him.

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold.

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler.

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock.

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.”

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time. “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are.

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were.

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?”

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so.

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.”

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost.

But it’s happened before.

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight.

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise.

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak.

You want him.

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson

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