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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 21: The Concert

Every time they're not on camera I simultaneously feel so relieved for them and so upset that I don't get to watch. Messed up of me, but hey. Remember that slightly disturbing quote where Paul said he actually does believe he's kind of public property and he's fine with that?

He looks so determined. Like the fairy tale prince staring down the dragon or Enjolras about to hijack a funeral (Literally my baby was conceived after I watched this in IMAX so if that tells you anything about my feelings . . . I'm going to be annoying I'm sorry I can't help it)

Her legs look so good in those tights! I love that Mo came not because her boyfriend needs his mommy but because she wants to see them perform! Kissing her on the mouth right now.

Danger boy Paul!

Fun fact, I was this John for Halloween in 2021 to a college party. My hair was already like that, and I had dirty white keds and black jeans, so I just did fake sideburns, fake glasses, and a fake fur coat. I tried to get my best friend to be Paul. She wanted to be a hooker, and I was like “It’s the same thing!”

See, look at him and his whorish ways!

John’s little lip-bit smile. He’s so happy with himself nailing that solo. Cutie.

Cocky boys. As they should be. I love when they’re proud of their work together. Get Back is 95% just Looks between John and Paul, isn’t it?

John and Paul instantly jump into their little “humble working class entertainers” act. You know what just occurred to me? You know how they talked about the “rattle your jewelry” comment backstage and Paul dared John to say it? I wonder if they talked about the “audition” comment too.

It really is a beautiful thing they’re doing. It’s lovely, watching everyon leave their desk jobs and their shopping and whatever else to sit in their fire escapes and congregate in the street and huddle together on rooftops. It really is just like the happy end in a sixties zeitgeist movie.

All the girls nervous to be too enthusiastic after years of being made fun of themselves and watching others like them being mocked on TV. Let girls like things, damnit!

Mo jamming! I’m in love.

John mouthing Paul’s lyrics.

“Paul McCartney singing that. What a voice.” Literally me if time travel existed.

“And if SOMEBODY loved me like she does,” Well, it is good manners to look at the person you’re talking to, I guess. But you do have an audience, John. And a mic and a camera.

“Absolutely disrupt all the business in this area.” Yes! Get those blue meanies, boys!

“No lay rishi gahd blay bloojaygoo” should replace all the stupid quotes the Lennon estate puts on everything they sell. Then I’d actually want their shit. Paul trying to magic the words from his head into John’s there. Successfully, though.

That “Pleeeeeheeeeease” is one of the prettiest beatles vocal moments. I love it with all my heart. And clearly, so does Paul. Doing that thing he does, inappropriately thrusting into his bass.

Oh my gosh it’s the song Paul and John do together on tour right now!

That “Yyyyyeeeeeah, yeaaaaaah!” (I mean the whole song, the whole concert, but especially that) does things to me.

John’s extremely blurry, because he turned his head quick enough to give him whiplash there, sorry everyone. But look! They’re having the time of their lives! They just love performing together so much!

Everyone goes to check on their accumulating audience. (except Paul. Wonder what that’s about.)Ringo’s little pleasantly surprised smile is so so sweet!

It must be so fun for them to be performing One after 909 again after all these years. Bitter sweet with everything that’s changed since then.

LMAO Kevin thank you for your service!

He’s a silly cutie.

The mic in the street asking that girl if she’d like them to come back every lunchtime. Imagine if they did? How cute would that be? Like back to their cavern lunchtime shows. Maybe that could’ve saved them.

Them playing God Save the Queen reminds me of that story where Brian was like, “This bigger manager wants to buy your contract from me, and I just wanted to be straight with you. They could probably get better deals for you.” and they were like, “If you sell us to him we’re only playing God Save the Queen from that moment on.” It’s probably a fake story, but that’s what it made me think of.

I always think that quote of Paul’s is so strange, where he was like “I never got the chance to watch John while we were playing.” Like. What are you talking about, baby?

Literally “Uh. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Fucking his bass. Staring at John. Okay? And I’m not supposed to take that and run with it? I’m not supposed to assume from that that you want to fuck your songwriting partner?

I think he genuinely wants to get arrested. I really do. I think he wants them all to get arrested so they can finally be alone in a room together. A lovely cell for four. Just shimmying at them. And Billy looking at him like, Bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Paul’s “woo” and shimmy :: John’s “woo” and weird little kick move. And Paul looks so fond, of course.

God bless Mal for stalling those little fucks as long as humanly possible. And Debbie! “Don’t actually go on the roof because it’s overweight.” Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss!

Absolutely LOVE John and George turning their amps back on. That’s right. You guys are what’s keeping the country going at this point, so if you want to play on your roof they better let you play on your roof and say thank you.

All the times when they just simultaneously turn to each other. Like, yes, this is our que to stare hungrily into each other’s eyes.

My stomach just dropped at those words across the screen. “This was the Beatles’ last public performance.” We know, Peter Jackson. You don’t have to remind us. Jeez.

John and Paul’s two very different but equally important leadership roles in the band at work here at the end of the concert. John delivers his iconic line, makes everyone laugh, and seals the band’s last performance with a very tight bow. Meanwhile, Paul’s climbing the gate to bypass the crowd and schmooze the police out of arresting Mal.

THIS is sooo cute. Heads buried together and John’s very sweet, “‘s’matter? Hmm?”

George is so cute here in the control room afterward. No wonder they don’t listen to his not wanting to do things, honestly, if he acts like this after. “What’s the law say why you can’t do that? Well how disturbing the peace? Yeah, I’m for taking over London. And every rock group in the world all on different buildings, playing the same tune.” Adorable.

Poor John. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t think his little lyric flub is funny. He’s disappointed in himself. I wish he could see that that’s one of the things everyone loves about him. George was grinning ear to ear about it. For fuck’s sake, that’s one of the reasons Paul fell in love with you in the first place. If only John could see himself the way we see him, you know?

This little moment cracks me up. John always has to be mommy’s naughty little boy, and Yoko does a very sweet job of playing her part here.

Linda and Paul are so touchy and clingy and it’s very romantic and I love that Ringo joins in and makes fun of them.

The whole after-show glow for everyone was just so palpable and fantastic. I wish they could've gone on performing together. Clearly it made all of them very happy.

#and that's that #Apparently we've got a bonus day though that I forgot existed #so that's nice #Or not for anyone that was excited to not see these on your dash lol #tumblr live #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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thehopelessromanticclub · 1 year

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THE KISS CAM

Pairing : Jeon Jeongguk x Y/N

Genre : Fluff, dating au

Word count : 1k

Summary : you appear on the KISS CAM but with the wrong person…

Weekends…

There was nothing special about weekends. For you weekends were boring. It consisted of you munching some potato chips, binge watching Kdramas, living up to your name of night owl. That was it. That was the end of it.

But that was until Jungkook came along, your boyfriend of 6 months. Weekends never felt so amazing…

Loving him was so easy…

It felt so natural…

He was shy. He was tired and messy hairs. He was oversized clothes and ripped jeans. He was whispers at 4 am. He was the smell before it rains. He was the love of her life. A love she never expected would be hers. A love so pure, that it feels to good to be true.

Author’s POV

Ding Dong

“Coming…” you yell loud enough for the entire neighbour hood to hear you before making your way to the door to open it.

There he was standing looking handsome, dashing, cool, amazing as ever… Words were never enough to describe him.

“Ready to go?” He enquired before complimenting how beautiful you looked. He always does that. He’ll call you beautiful even if you were ugly-crying some moments ago. He’ll call you beautiful even if you just woke up and ur face is all swollen up. You were always beautiful in his eyes.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You chimed in making sure to lock the door before you left.

Jungkook had been so into baseball recently, that he convinced you into going to one of the matches that was being held today.

Time skip

“There, that’s our seat.” He said pointing in the direction of two empty seats, both of you making your way into the direction.

The whole stadium was packed with tons of people. More than half of the population wearing their representative team’s uniform. It was spectacular.

“Y/N, is that you?” You heard a familiar voice beside you, hitting your eardrums, which made you turn your head in the direction.

“Yijoon?”

Hwang Yijoon, or more like your crush during high school. Although you did have feelings for him, but that was a thing in the past. As they always say, first love is never successful.

You grew up, your feeling changed. Both of you lost contact owing to the new chapter of adulting in your respective lives. You both got busy in the marathon of growing up.

You’ve told Jungkook about Yijoon once when he inquired who was the guy in your graduation photo, with hearts drawn all over him. Yes, it was you who drew the hearts, your only means of expressing your love for him.

“Omg, Yijoon-ah, how long has it been?” You were beyond ecstatic to meet him.

“I almost forgot about your existence.”

“Well, that was harsh.” He said placing his hand on his heart.

“You grew up so much Y/N, I almost couldn’t recognise you without your braces and bangs.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You laughed swaying your hair.

Both of you got so busy in catching up that you never realised the game had started and that you had a human being accompany you today.

Jungkook’s POV

“Sigh…” this is the umpteenth time I have been sighing.

I’ve been trying so hard to concentrate on the game but all I can concentrate is on them. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but it is her CRUSH being referred here. HER F**KING CRUSH.

I so badly want to go and sit between them and tell that guy, “hey dude, we are on a date, and if you don’t mind I’ll have my girlfriend to myself.”

Author’ POV

“Umm…Y/N? Who’s that guy? He has been eyeing us for a while now.” Yijoon inquired.

It was at this moment, she knew she f**ked up.

You quickly turned your attention towards Jungkook giving him an apologetic look.

“Yijoon, meet Jungkook, Jungkook, meet Yijoon.” You quickly introduced both of them.

“Hi, I am Jungkook, Y/N’s boyfriend. I’ve heard a lot about you from Y/N.” Jungkook gave a strong handshake to Yijoon, asserting himself, jealousy clearly visible on his face.

“Hopefully good things.” Yijoon replied.

Before you knew it, it was break time, or should I say KISS CAM TIME.

Numerous couples appeared on the screen, many of them eventually giving in and kissing, all the while, kiss me more by Doja cat played in the background.

“Aww, they are soo adorable.” You squealed clapping your hands, looking at couples on the screen have the time of their lives.

But that was until you appeared on the screen…

With Yijoon…

Oh shit…

You crossed your hands indicating you and Yijoon are not together. Yijoon even tried pointing at Jungkook. But no matter what, the camera wouldn’t budge.

Now even the crowd started chanting, “ kiss kiss kiss….”

That was the end of it. That was the final straw for Jungkook. He pulled you in for a kiss. It was sweet and soft. Our lips were madly in love and married. It didn’t involve tongue. All that was involved was love and longing. Longing for each other.

You could hear the crowd cheering and clapping in the background. But that was all white noise. All that mattered in this moment was you and him. It was your moment.

You pulled away after some time, running short of breath. Your eyes met his.

“Your face is soo…..red. Are you fine?” Jungkook quickly made sure to check your temperature by placing his hand on your forehead.

“I’m fine.” To which he nodded. You could feel your face pulsating, adrenaline still in your veins making a run for it. Conclusion- you were blushing.

“Y/N, you should know you have good taste in men.” Yijoon whispered beside you.

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rehfan · 2 months

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La Belle Dame avec Merci -- Chapter 3: Sadie Hawkins Is a Bitch

Eddie Munson x Unpopular!AFAB!fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ readers only please - minor children DNI! – No Upsidedown; reader is technically a virgin; mutual pining; Eddie has trust issues; emotional hurt/comfort; female masturbation; male masturbation; emotional manipulation; reader is kinda shitty to Eddie; reader gets better; angst; more angst; Eddie’s mom is dead; small act of accidental physical violence; Uncle Wayne is the best

Tagged: @bluestuesday / @ali-r3n / @winchester-angel / @iletmytittiestitty-russ / @mewchiili / @chaoticgood-munson /

DO NOT POST TO ANY OTHER SITE. My words are mine and mine alone.

Inspired by @/hard-candy-writing ‘s ORIGINAL POST

MASTERPOST LINK – AO3 LINK

**************************

Sadie Hawkins could kiss your ass. Frustrated with yourself, you pulled at the gaping neckline of the oversized sweater you wore over your turtleneck. You knew it wasn’t really oversized because when it was on the mannequin in the store, the headless female form had her shoulders completely exposed. That was the way it was supposed to be worn: babydoll style. You bought it in a fit of insanity, obviously. But it was the only thing that no one in the school had seen yet and, after all the money you had spent on it, you wanted to do something with it. Something slightly daring, sexy and alluring. For Eddie.

You had to wear the turtleneck underneath because your parents wouldn’t allow you out of the house wearing just the sweater as the mannequin modeled it. You stuffed your tank top into your bookbag. The plan was: change out of the turtleneck and into the tank at school and then change back again before you went home.

As you stuffed the material down deep under your books, like you were attempting to smuggle a key of cocaine through airport security, you could feel your heart beating in your chest. You would never have believed that you were the sort of girl who would bring clothes to change at school because your parents would object to what you tried to leave the house in, but here you were. Acting like all the brainless, superficial, preppie girls who slutted it up for their boyfriends at school. You caught your look in your bedroom mirror and mouthed: “Who are you?” as your mom called you down for breakfast.

Embracing your fate, just before homeroom, there you were: off-the shoulder sweater with complimenting tank top underneath, with your Jordache jeans pegged at the ankles, and your pure white keds. It was very Flashdance only without the leg warmers. You had also managed to put some make-up on your face. Nothing garish, but just enough to make a difference. You looked cute, but not too cute. You were ready for battle.

Sadie Hawkins was the yearly dance where the girls got to ask the guys. The gender-flip was meant to be the cutesy appeal, but honestly, it kind of made you sick. This was a dance neither one of you wanted to attend, but you also wanted to show up with Eddie and freak everyone out. To do this, you had to look like you had bothered to put in some kind of an effort. After all, fake dating needed just the right touch to make things believable.

It had been three solid days since you had straddled his lap in the library on that fateful Monday and actually pressed your mouth to his. Since then, it had only been not-close-enough-to-touch-but-close-enough-to-look-like-kissing fake kissing in the halls lasting only for the time that the jocks or party kids were around. You didn’t have the heart to actually kiss him again. Not that you didn’t want to. He was certainly growing on you and got your sense of humor. But after kissing him the first time, it registered as cruel with you to do that to him over and over again and calling it fake.

You hadn’t formed an actual plan with Eddie on Monday. All you knew was that the looks you kept getting from pockets of people in the halls of Hawkins High was giving you a wonderful feeling. You had a secret and they weren’t allowed to know. You felt like a puppet master leading all of them along and it gave you a rush that pleased you immensely.

For his part, Eddie couldn’t prevent the surprised look on his face when you approached him in the halls for the second time that Monday. He was amazed that you were keeping up the ruse at first. After the third day of your face being so close to his, but not actually touching him, his brain was screaming at him to make it make sense. Your perfume filled his senses. Your breath was on his cheek. You were right there, but he had no permission to do anything. He couldn’t just kiss you. That would mean you would stop, right? A line crossed. And he didn’t want you to stop, did he? By the end of Wednesday, his confusion melted into resentment. You were clearly playing a game he didn’t want you to win.

At first, it was easy; you rushed to him with a fake-kiss me quick before pulling him to you by the collar and pressing your face close to his, one eye on the crowd of passing kids, then breaking away with a thanks see ya before disappearing yourself. But as time has worn on, you could tell Eddie was getting more and more itchy about keeping up the foolishness. The last time you tried at the end of day yesterday, he took your hands away from the sides of his face and pressed you up against the locker. He drew close. Not actually making contact with you as always, but simply staring you down. He didn’t look pleased; his eyes filled with a threat: go on, I dare you to try it for real. So you didn’t. He was clearly irritated.

You were going to have to give him a little more to keep him sweet.

You had grabbed his present that morning and had stuffed it in your bag as well as your tank top. You tried to be thoughtful, but you weren’t made of money, so it had to be something meaningful, useful, and cheap. And since you didn’t know much about him, you hoped this would do the trick.

You knew his love for D&D and weaving stories from his participation in Hellfire. You knew of his struggles with history - at least that wasn’t part of the lie when someone from the evil cliques put his name into the tutor request list. You also knew he loved metal music. He wore the emblems of them all over his clothing like a knight wears armor - not to mention the guitar pic that hung around his neck like a talisman. So, armed with the knowledge that you did have about him, you went out and purchased a gift. You just hoped it was enough to encourage his continued participation in the charade.

As you made your way down the halls, you noticed all of the decorations for the upcoming dance. They only served to make you even more nervous. The sweater was daring alright: you felt downright naked. You saw him at his locker before he saw you. “Hey handsome.“

Eddie shut his eyes. Yours was the last voice he wanted to hear. Unfortunately for him, it was also the only voice he wanted to hear. One week into this and it was a new form of torture to be around you every day. The last time, he found strength enough to resist you. But only barely. He had to do better.

“Cupcake!“ he said, a tone of exasperation in his voice. He faced you full on, crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers with one shoulder, knowing what you’d come for. It was a moment - just one - where his heart skipped several beats at the sight of you. Jesus fuck, you were gorgeous.

“How are you today, snookems?” you smiled, hands behind your back holding your bag.

You were literally a siren. A witch in fairy-princess garb. Only now you were really trying. Your tits were right there. And your lips were a cherry red. And you smiled like that at him. But it was all a lie, wasn’t it? It was all for show. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach. Resigned, Eddie thought: get it over with now, and let’s get on with our lives. He closed his eyes and puckered.

“Oh don’t worry about that,” you said, “there’s no one here.”

Eddie was disappointed. Wait. Why was he disappointed? Shouldn’t he be relieved? He shook it off and asked: “So why are you here then?”

You stamped down a wave of annoyance at his irritation. “I’m here to give you this.” You dug in your backpack and came up with his present. “Happy three day fake-aversary, I guess,” you said, managing a half smile and shrug.

His head drew back, and he looked incredibly skeptical. “And what is this?“

“Like I said: happy fake-aversary.”

Incredibly suspicious, he took the box from you and examined it, turning it this way and that, shaking it and bringing it to his ear. “No ticking.”

“No ticking,” you confirmed.

“Then I guess I better see what’s inside,” he said and took off the lid. His eyebrows went past his bangs in surprise. A set of six steel strings for guitar were inside.

“How did you know I played?”

You shrugged, pleased that he was at least giving you a half grin. “Lucky guess,” you said, “or maybe a clue you leave everyone?” Here you glanced at the guitar pic that dangled on his shirt. “I don’t know. I guess I just had a feeling.”

He huffed a small laugh as he glanced at the pic. “Well, now I feel bad,” he said. “I didn’t get you anything, buttercup.”

“Go with me to the Sadie Hawkins thing on Saturday and we’re even.”

His peal of laughter probably echoed in the gym on the opposite side of the school.

“Will you shut up!” you whispered to him harshly. “You’re going to blow our cover, jackass.”

“Oh! So sorry, my little peach cobbler,” and just for emphasis, he pinched your cheek causing you to pull away from his touch reflexively, “I forgot that we were still trying to trick the school into thinking that you aren’t the Ice Queen they think you are.”

“Hey! This is to help you too!” you argued.

“Yeah, I’d been wondering about that. How do you figure?” he asked. He was genuinely curious. After all, his life hadn’t changed much since the school was set on fire with the rumor that the two of you were seeing each other. He was still an outcast. Only now, he was an outcast AND the guy who managed to corrupt the vestal virgin of Hawkins High. He saw how the girls looked at him differently. He wasn’t blind. But he leaned in toward you; he wanted to hear your reasoning for this game.

“Well, you’re supposedly dating the undatable girl, right? The untouchable one. Guys have been shot down hard by me. Yet you managed to melt the Ice Queen. Surely that’s gotten you at least a reprieve from all the “freak” talk. Right?”

Eddie shrugged. “Not the biggest change in the world.” He wasn’t being touted as a hero, and there were still whispers going on behind his back about him. But the tone of the whispers had changed. And, as he gave it some thought, he hadn’t been shoved in the shoulder or shouted at in the cafeteria anytime in the last few days. It was as if all the guys were trying to figure it out. How did Eddie Munson, the freak of Hawkins High, hook up with the Ice Queen? “But yeah, I guess there’s been a mild shift in the air.”

“See! Now don’t you want to see all their jaws drop when we attend the Sadie Hawkins dance?”

He internally recoiled at the idea of going to a Hawkins High dance. Deep in the pit of his stomach, a sour roiling developed; that same warning against the seduction of the witch-fairy. “I can live without it, to be honest, sweets,” he said. “And besides,” he added as an afterthought, “I don’t have a thing to wear.”

“You don’t have to dress up for Sadie,” you said. “That’s the beauty of it. It’s not a formal. It’s just a gathering of the youth with music and a photo op.”

“Ohhh no. Nope. No way. I am NOT having my picture taken attending a high school dance,” he said, shoving your present and his books in his locker and grabbing a notebook and his English textbook. “Thanks for the strings, but no way, angel. Not me. You’ve got the wrong dude.”

You could see that he clearly wasn’t going to go. And if you were honest, you didn’t really want to go with him if he was going to be like this. You did not want to force a boy to dance with you who absolutely hated the music and the company and the atmosphere and the gentle swaying back and forth. He would be a miserable human. And so would you for asking him to do it.

A couple of cheerleaders passed by, glancing at you and giggling. Fuck them, you thought. And fuck Eddie’s belligerence. “Well, think about it anyway. I’ll see you in biology. Let me know then.” Maybe you could think of a way by then to make a silk purse out of this sow’s ear.

“I’m letting you know now, cupcake,” he said, slamming the locker door shut and spinning the lock. “It’s not happening. Lose the dream.” And with that, he stalked down the hallway and disappeared around the corner, proud that he was able to resist you and your feminine wiles.

“Shit,” you said to the empty halls around you. The second bell rang. “SHIT!” You raced down the hall to history, praying Ms. O’Donnell would believe your lie about having to use the bathroom before class.

Maria looked at you funny when you got there, breathless. “Fooling around with Munson has you running late today?” she asked, giggling.

“What? No,” you said, unloading your history books. “Why?”

She thumbed in the direction of one of the cheerleaders that had passed you. “Stephanie told O’Donnell you were running late because you were making out with your boyfriend in the hall. She saw you.”

You felt yourself blush. “Jesus,” you muttered. The class began. “We weren’t making out,” you whispered.

“Then what were you doing?” she asked, keeping her voice low as well.

“Just talking,” you said.

“How can you be with that guy? You know he sells drugs, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said, “I don’t get involved with that. That’s his business.”

“Yeah but how can you kiss him? He probably tastes like an ashtray,” she said and made a face, sticking a finger down her throat and pretending to gag.

“You go around licking ashtrays to find out what it’s like, do you?” you asked her. Maria made a face.

O’Donnell got everyone to work on an assignment in silence. You read through the material and began writing the answer to the essay question O’Donnell had written on the board. Between every sentence, you thought about how Eddie tasted. That first day, yeah, he did taste of cigarettes. It had been a closed-mouth kiss, so it was subtle but there. All your other kisses weren’t even kisses, just closeness. But on all those occasions he had a distinct scent of gum or mints or toothpaste. It was as if he were trying not to offend you. Was this the same boy who wouldn’t go to the dance?

He was a mystery. One you had yet to figure out. But what wasn’t a mystery was that he had his pride. And that, you couldn’t fault him for. After all, you were the same. He didn’t want to be thought of as so stupid as to need a tutor. He didn’t want to attend a dance where the music wouldn’t be to his tastes and his dancing might be made fun of. He didn’t want to fit in like that. He was labeled an outcast. He had embraced it, leaned into it, owned it. At this point, it was part of his personality. There was no way he was going to attend a dance where the requirement was to fit in - not after being the outcast for so long.

You sighed as you proofread your essay before turning it in to Ms. O'Donnell's desk. As you sat at your desk again, you knew what you had to do; you had to be kind. No amount of gifts would crack that stubborn pride of his. There was no way Eddie Munson was going to a dance at Hawkins High. And there was no way you were going to force him to. It wasn’t right. You wouldn’t like to be forced to do something you didn’t want to do. It wasn’t fair.

You would tell him in biology that he was off the hook.

~080~

“Very reminiscent of “La Belle Dame sans Merci” only with a twist ending, Eddie. I wasn’t aware that you were familiar with the poem,” said Mr. Hutchinson, passing back Eddie’s essay from earlier in that week. Eddie genuinely liked Hutch. Especially since he had a love for fantasy books like Eddie did.

Eddie gave him a curious look and shook his head. “No? asked Hutch. “I thought you might have been drawing from it, but just in case, I brought a copy of it. It’s at my desk. I’ll get it to you after class.”

At the end, just before the bell, Hutch placed the poem on his desk. It was not lengthy, but the first stanza was told from a different perspective than his story. “Read it a few times over and see the similarity between your story and this one. It’s remarkable that you’ve never read it, but still came up with a similar concept as Keats. Have you been done in by a woman’s charms recently?”

“Ice Queen,” whispered someone as they passed his desk to leave. Eddie’s eyes followed the offender across the room, a scowl on his face. He hated that name. You were just a chick. A chick who valued her grades more than she did parties or sports or sex. That’s all. Just because you wanted to be treated like more than a piece of meat didn’t mean you deserved to be shunned.

You were just a chick. One who had been outcast like him. One who deserved respect. One who was thoughtful and caring enough to buy him guitar strings, even though they were probably a bribe to get him to go to the dance. But you were also a chick who wouldn’t kiss him for real because… why? Just to keep up appearances without offending him? Or just because his first and only kiss was so lousy, but now you were committed? Still, you were a chick who was funny. And smart. Who wasn’t out to treat him like a piece of meat, at least, lousy kisser or not.

One who probably deserved to be taken to a dance. Just once. Because none of these other clowns would have what it takes to do that. And Eddie had it within his power. He could be the one to do that for you. He imagined spinning you around on the dance floor. That smile on your face. What harm could it do?

He’d let you know in biology that he thought it through and he’d go.

~080~

By the time biology rolled around, you were resigned to your fate. Gail passed by and you waved at her. She took that as an invitation to say hello. “So… you and Munson?” She was just as skeptical and curious as the rest of the school.

“What can I say? He’s got pretty eyes.” It wasn’t a lie. He did. “And you’re the one who ditched me anyway, so…”

She shrugged. “He gave me a twenty to switch tables. Still… Munson?” she asked, making a face.

“His name is Eddie,” you said, offended but not surprised that she was so easily bought, “and he’s kind of funny. And very creative. He’s got, I don’t know… a good heart. You know, for this tough guy.”

“Hmm, okay I guess. To each his own,” she said. “Just so long as he doesn’t get you hooked on cocaine or pregnant or anything.”

“Jesus, Gail! It’s not like that at all. He’s… a good dude. Just,” you said, grasping for a word you didn’t quite know. “He’s Eddie. He’s a breed apart. His own person. And he makes me laugh. Where’s the harm in that?”

“And the metal music?” she asked. “You’re into that? Because Jeff told me that Eddie and his band - Jeff and Eddie are in a band - they play at the Hideout on Tuesdays - he says they've gotten pretty good. But I’m sure you knew that already. Being Eddie’s girlfriend and all. So you must like their music too, huh?”

“I don’t mind it,” you said, not having any idea about his band until just then, but you were willing to fake it to keep up appearances. Your heart swelled with a bit of pride knowing that your instincts about what to give him as a gift were indeed spot on and completely appropriate. “I really like some of it. Good music to clean the house to.”

Gail laughed at this and said her goodbyes, moving back to sit with Jeff. Eddie came in moments later and set his things down. Scooting next to you on his stool, he said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and before you ask - no, I did not have a lobotomy.”

“What?” you asked, genuinely clueless.

“I think we should go,” he said, leaning toward you, invading your space, as was his way when he was excited about something. His one hand was settled in front of you on the lab table you shared. It looked strong. It was distracting.

“Go?” you asked, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

“Yeah,” he said, “you, me, we - we should go to the dance.” The space he occupied was vacated temporarily as he took off his jacket and sat on it as usual. The absence of him that close to you was like a physical ache. Before you had time to wonder about it, you had to remind yourself to breathe. He was wearing a t-shirt today and his arms were gorgeous. You had never touched him outside of the fake kissing, not casually, but in this moment, you felt like a woman possessed.

“Oh,” you said, tracing a finger over the puppet master on his forearm, “I was going to let you off the hook for that.”

“You were?” He was trying to focus on your words, but your fingertip was distracting him. He moved his arm so that you had better access.

“Yeah,” you said, freezing your motion to look into his eyes. “I wouldn’t want you to be miserable just so I can mess with people’s heads. You don’t deserve that.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said. “I don’t like them. They don’t like me. If I showed up in one of the places where they felt all normal - you know, if The Freak came into their dance - it would be cool to ruffle their preened feathers. If only for a few hours.”

He had you loosely caged in, one forearm on the table in front of you, the other along the back of your chair. If he wanted to, all he would have to do was lean in six inches to kiss your bare shoulder, kiss your neck, nibble at your ear, take your mouth with his. And you would let him too. Mostly because he had never initiated anything between you two before. It was always you who had been fake-kissing him. Never the other way around.

You wondered what would happen if he did. Would you instantly melt into him? Would your knees go weak? Would you moan into his mouth?

You blinked slowly at him, desperately attempting to piece together the words he had just finished saying. He was asking you to ask him to the dance, right? Did you understand him correctly? “You don’t have to, Eddie. You really don’t. I want you to be happy. It’s bad enough I’ve been making you pretend-kiss me for the last week. I wouldn’t want to push you too far. You deserve to be with someone who isn’t a stack of lies in a trench coat.”

He wanted to ask: Is it really all a lie? Are you fake? He needed to know. He knew you started off that way, but he remembered the look you gave him when he finally pushed back that day. Shocked, lips parted in surprise, eyes alight with something else. He wanted to ask you about all that. Was it all a joke? Every part? And he wanted you to say no in the worst way. He needed you to say no. No, Eddie. You are the one I want. And was he? Was he really?

But just then Harris began his class. Eddie waited anyway, looking to you for some sign. But you didn’t do anything but turn to the page indicated and click your pen. He did the same, but he provided his ringed left hand turned up and right next to yours on the lab table between you both just in case.

Mr. Harris cleared his throat to begin class. All you both could do was turn back to your studies, but Eddie’s left hand turned palm up, the giant ring on his forefinger nudging the back of your hand. He had looked a bit hurt when you told him he deserved someone who actually cared about him. Was this him reaching out for comfort? You needed your right hand to jot notes, but when you weren’t writing, you brushed the back of his with your own, eventually turning his hand and linking your pinky with his, warm and welcoming.

You watched him out of curiosity while he wasn’t looking. This was the first time he had touched you, without you initiating anything and it was so gentle and subtle. This was not meant for the others to see and be grossed out. This was him communicating to you. No other people were invited.

Eddie felt you link your pinkie with his until you had something to write, then you were gone, only to come back seconds later to link up again. You just let him touch you. You kept coming back to touch him. And it wasn’t so obvious that others might notice. It wasn’t something that could be used for display. And you were allowing it. That was different. Could it mean that you really did give a damn? You didn’t mind him touching you?

But the touch was too intermittent. As the class went on, you were gone for longer and longer times. He wanted more.

Mr. Harris drew a complex diagram on the board. When he turned his back to the class, Eddie’s hand disappeared from your touch and slipped underneath the table. Suddenly, you felt your stool being yanked closer to him. Eddie didn’t meet your look at all. He just wrapped an arm around your back, hand resting on your hip opposite. Once he settled there, he glanced your way. You didn’t look mad. Startled, but not mad. That was good.

You waited for him to do more. To try something else. He didn’t. His hand simply rested on the curve of you, warming the flesh there. The weight of his arm wasn’t bothersome either. His scent was stronger here too: mint and Old Spice and cigarettes. You caught his eye as he measured your reaction.

And then you did something Eddie didn't expect: you smiled.

You smiled because you didn’t mind this at all. You shifted your book and notebook over and settled in next to him, taking your notes again as if this were the most natural thing in the world. Because it kind of was. Eddie went back to taking notes, easy as you please.

When Harris turned back to write something else on the board, you looked to Eddie and brushed his hair aside, pinning it behind his ear. Turning to you, his eyebrows raised, you whispered, “We don’t need to go to any dances. I hate them too, actually. We can do something else if you like. Wherever you want.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “Anything for my fake fella.”

That was the wrong thing to say. You saw something die in his dark eyes. Regret filled your throat. You hurried to apologize, the intention making it to your eyes - but the words never made it to your lips.

“If I’m not interrupting your conversation by teaching, I would like to continue,” said Mr. Harris.

Blushing, you cleared your throat and bent over your notebook.

Eddie stared at you for a beat, weighing up the last look you threw him before Harris interrupted. Finally, he turned to the teacher. “I’ll allow it,” said Eddie with a dismissive brush of his hand. Laugher went up from a few in the class.

“Oh thank you, Mr. Munson. So happy I have your approval,” the teacher said and went back to his lesson.

Harris continued his lecture and the two of you studiously took notes for a while. You shot him a quick sorry under your breath. He answered you with a glance that you hoped meant forgiveness. And you were sure it did, because his hand never moved from around your body.

Eddie being so close to you, being so quiet, with his arm still around you, you felt yourself melt a little at his touch. Not just because he was apparently comfortable, but because something inside you told you that he needed you to comfort him. To let him know you meant it when you said you were letting him off the Sadie Hawkins hook.

Eddie put his head down and took a note or two on the life cycle of the butterfly and wondered himself why he cared so much about you. More than that, why did you trust him? Where was all this coming from? Like in this moment now: you were soft under his hand, just letting him settle there. He could feel your right knee against his left. Were you moving closer? Did he really feel that?

He risked a side glance at you, but you had your thinking face on. One hand cradling your head, tilted away from him, exposing the line of your neck. The other hand gripped your pencil, scribbling a diagram of a chrysalis as Harris drew the same and labeled it on the board. He could lean in and kiss your neck if he wanted. You might have objected if he did, but he could do it. Taste your skin. Bury his nose in your hair afterward. Take in your scent. Eddie’s cock twitched slightly. He shifted in his seat. You brought your head up slightly and looked at him. His eyes met yours.

He echoed your sorry from earlier, trying like hell not to blush. Jesus, what the fuck? It was all fake. All of it. Why couldn’t he get that through his thick skull? You didn’t actually like him. You were just tolerating him for the sake of appearances. That was all. It was like a business deal.

Get a fucking grip, Munson!

“Ugh, get a room, you two,” said a harsh whisper from behind you both.

Glancing back simultaneously, one of the preppie party kids made a face at you both. You regarded each other, bemused. It seemed, at the end of the day, you were both enjoying the charade. Harris was drawing the butterfly now. You gave Eddie a look: well? A silent question in your eyes.

Permission. You were asking his permission. Holy fuck.

He didn’t think. He didn’t want to spare the time to doubt himself. Immediately, he leaned in and kissed you, his eyes open the whole time, gauging your reaction. You stared back, unable to resist being the focus of his entire attention.

He saw flecks of different colors in your eyes that he had noticed before from the prior fake kissing you had done, but they continued to fascinate him; they weren’t just the solid color they seemed to be from afar. Your touch was gentle. Your stare unwavering. He felt himself slide into a future with you as his girl. With you smiling at him as he played his guitar. With you playing with his hair as he lay in your lap and wove you a story. Date nights, fights, anniversaries, make up sex. Sex. With you. Fuck. Flickering images of skin and sweat and moaning. Clutching sheets. With you in his arms afterward. He lost himself in you until Harris’ voice pierced the silence. Eddie blinked and backed off, bent over his notebook once more. And his hand on your hip was gone.

The kiss itself was only a few seconds long. Yet, it was during that kiss that you saw it for the first time: Eddie Munson’s vulnerability. A thing so precious and fleeting, the rarest of butterflies. As quickly as it appeared, it was gone, Eddie turning back to make a note of the life span of the Painted Lady butterfly.

He had never kissed you before. The first kiss had been your idea - one that you dared not repeat. But this? You stared at the side of his face for several seconds before snapping back to the classroom task at hand. The bell rang.

Eddie was up and gone without a glance back at you. Something had clearly happened for him and he was obviously embarrassed. Shit. Gail was there waiting for you as you mulled things over. She cleared her throat and knocked on the table. “Earth to-

“Yeah yeah,” you muttered. “Right with you.” You gathered your things and moved on to your next class.

There would be no next class for Eddie. He needed air. Out in the crisp late autumn morning, his van sat on the edge of the parking lot. He gained it quickly and sat himself behind the wheel, slamming the door shut hard.

“What the fuck!?” he shouted to himself as with shaking hands he shoved the key into the ignition. “What the ever-loving fuck!?” He drove off school grounds with no particular destination in mind. He just needed a quiet place to think.

He wound up at Peaceful Rest Cemetery. He knew where to go from there.

He was alone. Just him, his mother’s grave, and a fresh soft pack of cigs he had bought only that morning. He sat on the tiny stone bench at the foot of her grave and stared at her name. In that moment, his mind was blissfully blank. He lit up.

After three draws on his cig, the nicotine hitting his system, he was ready to talk. “I don’t get it, Mom,” he said, “I don’t get her at all. I mean- I get the whole fuck the in-crowd thing. God knows I get that. But me? Am I supposed to represent the anti-in-crowd type?” He shrugged. “Yeah. I guess I do. But what I can’t figure is: it’s not only me. I mean, she could have picked Gareth or Jeff or any of the other guys in Hellfire. Shit, she could have picked that dweeb that works on the school paper. But no. She picks me.

“And why? Because I was there; I was convenient. Because I was sitting right across the table from her when that last straw cracked the camel’s back in two.” He drew on his cigarette again. “That’s it. That’s all. I was just the right guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. And now my dick wants a vote. Jesus Christ.

“I really don’t need this chick, Mom. I don’t need her using me. But you know? You remember that song that used to play on the radio when I was a kid? The one you would sing along to in the car?”

He closed his eyes and sang softly:

You just keep on using me/ until you use me up

“That one? Yeah. She’s like that. And a big part of me hates it because I know she’s using me, but then there’s a part of me that can’t believe it’s happening because she’s just… so fucking amazing. She’s smart and just a little sexy but she doesn’t even know it. She walks around looking like that and, Mom, she has no idea! It’s crazy. The sweater she had on today alone… Jesus.” Eddie blinked, remembering where he was and who he was talking to. “Sorry, Mom. But you get it.”

“She’s too good for me though. I know that. And I know what you’re going to say, Mom. I know you’re going to say that I am good enough, but I live in a trailer park with my uncle. And her? She lives over in Loch Nora with the other rich kids. Which isn’t necessarily better, but she has folks, you know? A mom and a dad and they both love each other and their little baby girl. I mean, I haven’t met them or anything, but I just know, you know?”

He took three more puffs and blew the smoke into the air until it mixed with the clouds above him. He watched them go, turning and laying down on his back on the bench, feet planted on the ground, his free hand behind his head as a cushion.

“I had a dream about her last night.”

Another smoke cloud blew out to join its brothers, shifting in the afternoon air.

“I dreamt that she was a fairy princess and I was a knight and she stole my horse and gave me honey to eat from a wooden spoon.”

Another cloud of smoke rose slowly above him.

“Fucking Keats, man.”

His mother didn’t reply. The grass rustled against her stone as the wind blew it around. The caretakers should mow soon. Eddie wondered if he should write a letter to them not to touch his mom’s grave. To tell them that he liked the longer grasses and how they sounded brushing up against her stone. Like she was whispering to him. Comforting him.

“I think I’m falling in love with her, Mom.”

“I didn’t mean to. It’s only been a few days of this shit, you know?”

“I’ve got to tell her to stop.”

“I can’t let her do this anymore.”

He finished his cig and sat up, crushing out the last embers on the underside of the bench and tossing the butt across the graveyard. He gave his mother’s headstone one last look. “Falling in love with someone so fast is what got you killed. That’s what Wayne said.”

He stood, hands in his pockets, cold now. “Of course, he was really drunk when he said it. But he said it. And I believe him.”

“Bye, Mom. Good talk.”

#fanfic #writing #joseph quinn #joe quinn #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #fake relationship #la belle dame avec merci #lbdam #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 writer #slow burn

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bulldyke-rider · 2 months

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My brother likes to say our grandma was a bad mom because our mom had cheap clothes she got made fun of for.

Meanwhile, my mom was spending an entire clothing voucher on my brother's shoes, and then I'd get made fun of for only having two pairs of jeans.

And I never even thought about that until he started mentioning our grandma buying keds for our mom.

We got like $600 total for all three of us to buy clothes for school, and a third of the budget was spent on his shoes. The government sent me $200 to school shop. $200 with my name on it. And I actually only got a little over a hundred dollars worth of clothes because my mom decided it was a fair split to spend his entire voucher on his shoes and then dip into mine for his clothes.

And she justified it with "he gets shoes and you get shoes, so it's even"

Same way my sister asked for a tablet, and she got the cheapest model Samsung sells. And her phone in the cheapest model Samsung sells. But my brother got a brand new Xbox and 64 inch TV last year. And why did he get a 64 inch TV, you may ask. Well, it's because the 40 inch he got the year before last broke.

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wordynerdygurl · 2 years

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See How They Run

Author’s Note: Well- Happy Halloween! Here’s my sequel to Mousetrap and I hope you enjoy! Pairing: Plus Size Reader x Steve & Eddie

Summary: It’s Halloween Night and you’re supposed to be watching Horror Movies with your friends, that is until things get distracting. Warnings: DUB CON - dubious consent, my friends. If this ain’t your bag, I respect that, but you’ve been told! SMUT ensues!

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See How They Run - A Hawkins Halloween Sexy Story

Why had you come? That was the right question to ask yourself as you move through Steve’s living room once more, Halloween and its unforgettable party already days behind you. If Robin hadn’t insisted on a Horror movie night, almost bullying you into joining her, you wouldn’t have bothered leaving the house.

Since the night of Steve’s party, you’ve been struggling, to say the least. Your mind keeps going a mile a minute, head full of thoughts too snarled to untangle, and the worst part was you couldn’t seem to get the memory of Eddie and Steve out of your mind. Something about Eddie’s controlling grip and Steve’s stern instructions, the powerful way that they kissed you into submission- you weren’t sure if you would ever be able to put it behind you. And what’s worse? You weren’t entirely certain that you wanted to.

You had kept it to yourself, not even telling Robin, the person you normally blabbed everything too. And boy, had she tried to break through the mental fog you have been living under since that fateful night. Robin worked every angle, using every trick she knew to get you talking and when it didn’t yield any results, she’d put her foot down, demanding your attendance at tonight’s mini-movie marathon or face the ending of your friendship. That was a threat with bite, so you had pulled on some jeans and the baggiest sweatshirt you could find, going to great lengths to make yourself look as unappealing as possible. You had no desire to tempt fate or the two boys who had so recently used your compromised situation to their advantage. Instead, you swallowed down your regrets, tied up your Keds and agreed to meet your best friend at Steve’s place. Which is why your guilty conscience was on double duty as you pulled into the driveway. You know that she only wants to help, be supportive, but how could you tell her about the complicated feelings that warred inside of you? How can you explain what you don’t understand, at least not fully? Because the awful truth is this: you know, deep down, that you should not have liked what happened to you in Steve Harrington’s living room. You shouldn’t have enjoyed the sore stretch of your muscles the next day or the lavender marks along your thighs.

And you absolutely should not be getting wet at remembering the sounds you made when you were trapped under Eddie. Or touch yourself when you recall Steve’s demeaning demands. Above all that, you shouldn’t become aroused at the idea that it could happen again. In fact, you really should stop thinking about it all together. Being taken like that, pleasure pulled from you when you least expect it, was something that should have made you angry. It should have sickened you, maybe hurt your feelings, considering what was said and what was done. Only, it didn’t. Not even a little bit. You didn’t want it to happen again. At least you think you don’t. And that’s why avoiding your best friend and by extension, Steve and Eddie, has been your key to survival. You can stay out of trouble if you can stay away from the troublemakers, right? Clearly, you had no business being around Steve and Eddie. Not tonight. Not right now, when your heart and head were at odds. But still, you were already walking towards Steve’s open door, head down as you wonder, who will win? Your needy body or your wounded pride? Surprisingly, it was going to be a small group tonight and that was not ideal. You were expecting, well, everyone: Nancy, Jonathan, the Sinclair kids, Dustin. Instead, you were in for a night of concentrated time with Robin, Steve and Eddie and that was going to make this evening that much harder. Inhaling a deep breath, you made a promise to yourself: Keep your eyes on the movie, your hands to yourself, and your clothes on. If you could do that then you would be just fine. The second you step inside Eddie’s eyes are on you, following every move you make, the same way a hungry dog tracks its dinner. Before too long he’s at your side, crowding your personal space, “Hey babe! How ya been?” His hug squeezes you hard, your breasts pinned to his broad chest until you wheeze, “Oof- Good Eddie. You?” Low, so only you can hear, Eddie hums, “Better now that you’re here, little mouse.”

Swallowing hard, you peer up at him, eyes rounding at his chosen term of endearment. Is that how he sees you still? A little mouse, easy to corner, easy to cage? Steve, so casual, so cool, welcomes you with hugs and smiles, his look lingering on you just a bit longer than you think it should but before you can address it, his attention is called away to answer the ringing phone. You take it as a sign from some benevolent universal force and are grateful for the intervention, sneaking towards a comfy spot on the sofa and you hope out of everyone else’s way. Only, Eddie beats you there, wrapping his strong arm around your waist in an overly familiar way that makes you suck in a breath, “Whoa!” “What? Sit down already!” Flopping against the arm of the couch, he pulls you down next to him, his forearm laying across your shoulders. It’s a friendly posture, one you’ve enjoyed countless times, but tonight it just feels weird. Too familiar. Too close. You don’t get much time to think about it because Steve enters the room carrying an overfilled bowl of popcorn, a bag of Halloween sized peanut butter cups and a smile. He’s crammed half a dozen Coke cans into his jean pockets and is hugging two bags of chips in his arms “Robin’s out. Something about staying home on candy duty. Looks like it’s just the three of us.” Wait, what? You can’t quite believe what he’s saying. Robin was ditching you? Oh, no. The wave of nervous heat that rolls through you makes sweat break out across your brow. Worry reflects on your face as you flash your gaze between both guys, “Um, maybe I should go- let you have your boys night.”

But the second it leaves your lips, you realize it’s not the answer that Eddie or Steve were looking for; you watched four eyes cloud over with a rolling fog of regret, two sets of perfectly plump lips pouting in unison. No, if you leave now there will be questions. Questions you don’t want to answer. Questions you don’t think can ever be answered. Steve takes the open seat next to you, laying out all the junk food he’s setting up, “Aw, babe, don’t go! You can’t! I got all the good stuff- candy, Doritos, there’s beer in the fridge. And, uh, and, I grabbed your favorite-” Together you say, “Friday the 13th.” He looks so sweet, teasing you like this with those brown eyes shining, his smile full of fun. Your old friend Steve is back. When he looks at you like this it’s difficult to remember why you feel so uncomfortable around him. It’s hard to recall why you didn’t want to come and watch scary flicks while getting sick on the worst food imaginable. It’s only Steve, after all, who looks at you almost pleading, hair falling over his face, “Why would you wanna leave me all alone on Halloween with Munson, huh?” “Yea, don’t know if I can trust Steve to keep his hands to himself if you’re not here to chaperone.” Eddie adds his tart two cents, reaching for a bag of M&Ms before tearing the package open with his teeth. This is not a good idea. Your brain is shouting at you to get up. Go. Leave. Hadn’t you given yourself rules to follow? If only you could remember them right now. Silence grows around the three of you, your brain working overtime to sort out right from wrong. Steve and Eddie though, they figure on waiting you out. You’re too nice, Little Mouse. Too sweet to deny them, especially when they ask you to hang around, all by yourself, so nicely. Shifting on the sofa, you know you’re going to stay and you kind of hate yourself for it. How could you possibly say no now? A heavy sigh falls from your lips as you struggle for a playful tone, “Well, if it means you’re not trapped with Eddie all night, I guess I can- uh, hang out. For, for a little while, at least.” Only, you do need a little room, a little space away from the scent of smoked weed and Brut that follows Eddie everywhere and the cloying clean smell of Harrington’s Tide. No, you need distance and you need it right now. You start to stand up, only to feel a strong hand on your wrist, pulling you back, “Where ya going, doll?” This time it’s Eddie, puppy dog look on his face, the chain bracelet he wears clanging. There’s a fancy, comfortable, easy chair just a bit closer to the television and you’re mad that you didn’t take that seat first. Now, it’s exactly where you want to be- sitting alone and out of the reach of your two friends. “Um, the recliner?” Too soft, your voice sounds so little when you answer, like you’re asking his permission when you should be declaring your intentions. Steve pats the empty spot between the boys, “Uh, no. If you sit over there, who’s gonna keep you safe from Jason, huh? Plus, you won’t be able to reach the popcorn bowl.” Finding your bottom lip, your top teeth pinch into it cruelly. That trapped feeling fills you again and you realize that your resolve is crumbling under the begging looks from two sets of burnt caramel colored eyes in the dim light of Steve’s family room. Tugging at your hand, Eddie pulls you closer, “Just sit with us. Please?” But you don’t move. You sway on your feet, still struggling to decide how far to give in, when Eddie yanks again, “Pretty please? With sugar on top?” It makes you smile. You wish to heaven it didn’t, but something in his youthful phrasing makes you think about ice cream cones on the park bench and daring each other to climb trees. When he swings your hand again, you give in, allowing Eddie to settle you on the couch between him and Steve. Using the remote, Steve pushes play and the screen fills with the horror flick you like the most. Hyper-focusing, you don’t let your eyes wander from the television. You don’t wanna know what Steve and Eddie are doing. “Popcorn?” Eddie asks, without looking at you, holding the bowl in front of you. “Sure.” Somehow, the bowl winds up in your lap, two broad boy hands grabbing at kernels as the opening scene starts rolling. Eddie shifts near enough that his thigh is pressed hard against yours, cuddling you closer with an arm around you, as if you were on some sort of date. Steve’s just as close, tucked into your side, so you angle yourself into the warm space where Eddie’s arm meets his torso in order to stay comfortable almost without thought. But that creates another problem. Resting on your hip, you need a place to tuck your toes now that Eddie’s practically curled you to him. Fidgeting, you’re stopped by Steve’s firm hand over your socked feet, “Here. Get comfortable, k?” Plopping them into his lap, he expands to take up even more space on the sofa, covering your tootsies with wide palms. And that’s how you wind up nearly laying across both of them, the bowl of popcorn in your arms forgotten as Eddie begins running his fingers through your hair, stopping to rub behind your ears until you hum out a relaxed sigh. Steve’s hands gently knead at the soles of your feet, eyes focused on the film, but aware of the way you melt under his touch.

It’s nice, being petted with soft hands and soothing touches. For a second you let your guard down, just enjoying the comfortable sensation of snuggling with your boys. Sighing contentedly, you wiggle further into the couch, feeling better than you have since you last saw Steve and Eddie. Eddie gets bolder. Skating under the heavy fabric of your sweatshirt, his calloused fingertips graze your ribs. He lets his hand trail down your arm, thumb working in small circles, first on the outside of your arm, then sliding against the soft, sensitive underside. It sends shivers down your spine, the kind which settle in your abdomen, making your muscles tense. Reason takes over so, pressing against his leg, you make a move to reposition yourself, but he shushes you, his soft voice in your ear, “Sorry baby, does it tickle?” “Um, kinda, but-” Your sentence is cut short by the climbing reach of Steve’s hand. His sweeping massage has skated high enough that he’s rubbing the tender flesh of your inner thighs over your jeans. You kick your feet, attempting to shake him off, but it doesn’t work. Scolding you with a heated look, Steve pinches you, “Shhh! This is a good part!” “Sorry!” Your lips move soundlessly, even though you toss your head with a sassy little snap. Something dark moves over Steve’s face, a lean, hungry look that makes your mouth go dry, and you press your thighs together, praying he doesn’t notice the effect he has on you. “I know how to keep you quiet.” Eddie’s free hand traces the curve of your cheek, pulling your mouth to his before you can react, the impact of his lips on yours eroding all your reserve.

You’ve forgotten just how sweet he can be, the warring flavors of buttery popcorn, flat soda and green bud filling your mouth with every sensual swipe of Eddie’s thick tongue. Steve grabs the snack bowl, moving it to the table, so that it doesn’t spill off your lap, as Eddie leans further into you. It forces you onto your knees as he supports your upper body, Steve still bracing your legs tightly. In the glow of the television, you're illuminated in silver, Eddie’s hands cupping your face as the kiss gets meaner. Wetter. Rougher. Nudging into the mix, Steve’s eagerly tugging at your ankle draws your attention away from Eddie and his talented mouth. Hands on your waist, tight and firm, help manipulate your figure, settling you in Steve’s lap. Brushing stray hair out of your eyes, his brown orbs reflecting the unattended movie, “Hey pretty girl.” “Hi, Steve.” And that’s all you get as a warning before Steve’s lips meld with yours, his hold on your middle allowing him to rock you into his hardening length continuously. Your natural instinct is to moan, but Eddie’s at your side, his voice guttural and groaning, “Keep quiet, little mouse. No noises. Don’t want to interrupt the movie.” Nodding, you understand the stakes here but Steve makes it difficult to comply when he starts kissing down the column of your throat, peppering your skin with purpling bruises created with every nip from his perfect teeth. Biting into your bottom lip you watch, wide-eyes staring, as Eddie shimmies out of his black jeans. He’s not wearing any boxers, so his hefty erection is able to spring free with no impediments. Steve is busy. Twiddling with the rivets of your jeans, he slips a finger under the waistband of your pants, jerking you forward roughly by the hips. One by one he snaps open the brass buttons, fingers toying the elastic of your panties but going no further- not yet. Now he’s working your sweatshirt up, exposing your tummy first, then your bra covered breasts, as he lifts your top off. When he tosses it beside him, a broad smile on his face, he has the audacity to smirk, “Look at you, huh? So sweet for us, aren’t ya?” The praise makes you preen and your body responds with a flush of heat that radiates off your skin before pooling in the lowest part of your belly. Turning your head in his direction, Eddie kisses you again, as quietly as possible so as not to compete with the scripted dialogue. His hands tangle in your hair, directing your movements, holding you where he needs you while his pouty lips pummel your own. Yanking hard against your scalp, you’re jerked toward his waiting cock, coral hued and proud. Your whimper is muffled by the gagging presence of him filling the wet cavern of your mouth. Struggling with his size, you try to lift off Eddie but his hold on you is firm, and you raise teary eyes to his as he coos, “Damn, you look so fucking good, baby. Taking me so well. Can you- shit, can you swallow?”

Using your throat, you will some of the building saliva and salty pre-cum down, making Eddie moan pitifully, “Fuck. Just- just like that.” Setting a steady rhythm, Eddie lays into the cushions, legs spread wide as you begin to service him in time with the push and pull of his hands on your head. It’s easy to get lost in the task, focusing solely on bringing Eddie pleasure, and that’s why you don’t notice that Steve is no longer underneath you. When you’re hovering over Eddie, Steve takes advantage of your opened button fly, rolling the jeans you’re wearing down, down, down. A high, thin squeak at the sudden draft sneaks past the seal you’ve created around Eddie’s cock. All three of you freeze at your loudest response yet and you’re unsure of what the consequences will be. The huge clock on the mantle ticks- once, twice, three times, before Eddie moves again. It’s Steve’s rumbling tenor that barks in your ear, “That was too loud, Miss Mouse. Makes me think you want to get caught. Is that it? You want someone to find you like this?” The threat shouldn’t make your panties damp, but it does. It shouldn’t make you whimper, small and meek, around Eddie’s throbbing shaft, but it does. And Steve should not love the wild, fear-filled look in your eyes as they roll up, shiny with tears at his words, even as your mouth is stuffed full of his partner in crime. But he does. Steve loves everything about it. How compliant you are when he and Eddie box you in, your brain shutting down as theirs kicks into overdrive. The way you play hard to get only to fall open, ready and wanting, once they have their hands on you. Shit, it’s enough to drive him out of his fucking mind. Guiding you back to the very long, very large task before you, Steve lets his hand glide over your shoulders, down your bare back, to the edge of your newly exposed panties. Sucking his lip between his teeth at the way you shiver when he cups your upturned bottom, his fingers move soundlessly into the gap between your thighs.

You’re excited. There’s no denying it, not when he can feel the damp heat staining the gusset of your underwear. He grunts in appreciation, drawing Eddie’s attention with a voice that’s light and even, “How’s she look Harrington?” “Like she’s having a good time, Ed.” That’s when Steve rubs a knuckle over the soaked center of your underwear, pushing against the fabric to tease your lower lips apart. Scooting lower, Eddie scoffs softly, “She- shit, she really likes that, man.” “Yea? You like this honey? Like me touching your pretty pussy while you suck on Eddie’s cock?” He knows you can’t open your mouth and respond, Eddie’s hold on you ensures that, but Steve likes taunting you just the same. Pulling the ruined garment aside, two fingers, ruinous and rigid sink inside your warmth only to slide out covered with slick. Steve licks you from his fingers, grinning. The surprise intrusion makes you inhale sharply, giving Eddie the chance to bump against the back of your throat, your sigh lost to his impossible depth. He’s close. Every nudging thrust gets sloppier, less contained, and you’re desperate to give your aching jaw a break. Choosing to ignore the guy behind you for the one in front of you, you bob down Eddie’s length quickly, hollowing your cheeks to create suction. “Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” Somehow he keeps his exclamations lower than the television’s volume. Stiffening, Eddie’s grip on your neck tightens as he humps into your waiting mouth once, twice more. His sticky spend splashes over your tongue in several bursts and you gulp around him, swallowing all you can.

Deflated now, Eddie thumps his head back into the pillow, tugging on your shoulders, “Come ‘ere.” His lips meet yours savoring the taste of himself on your breath, kissing you clean, his fingers bruising your upper arms with the intensity of his grip. Manhandling you, he pushes your back into the couch beside him, helping Steve wiggle you out of your drawers. They sit on either side of you, fully clothed but with open flies while you’re naked. Exposed like you are, the chill air gives you goosebumps and pebbles your sensitive nipples. Dragging one leg over his, Eddie parts your thighs rudely, your sex entirely on display should anyone else walk into the room. Steve mirrors this action, keeping you open wide, but his insistent hand on your cheek draws your mouth to his. The thick muscle of his tongue plunges into you and for a second you think that he’s seeking out whatever might remain of Eddie’s oral encounter, but you push the thought aside at the sensation of warm, wet lips on your breasts. The devil of Hawkins is sucking lewdly at your tight nipple, teeth barely there but threatening, and you arch your back simultaneously wanting more but terrified that Eddie will deliver. Moving to your neck, Steve sucks a vicious red mark onto the skin there, uncaring about who’ll see it and have something to say. Eddie has licked up to your clavicle, the tendon of your throat receiving a nip before a soothing lick washes away the pain. His ring-covered hand skims the little touched area of your inner thigh, nails dragging over the untested skin, urging close to your unprotected core. Steve, he husks into your ear, “Been so good for us baby. Can you be good a little longer?” The quad trapped between his denim covered ones trembles at the feeling of his strong fingers sliding higher, toying at the crease where your leg becomes hip, and weakly you nod in agreement. Eddie finds your clit first, his fingertip making small circles, lightly- so lightly that you almost don’t believe his touch is real. On the other hand, Steve’s fingers draw up and down your seam, collecting your dewy discharge, rubbing at your opening without entering. Your mouth is millimeters away from his when your lips start moving, “Please. Please? Please, Steve. Please.” Inhaling your pleas, Steve shakes his head in understanding, brushing his plush mouth against yours- not kissing you, but lingering close enough to feel every shuddering, panting breath you take. Eddie’s finger slips inside of you, easy and eager, your pussy finally, frantically clenching around something of substance. Steve watches as your eyes widen into owlish circles, your mouth a perfect “O”, as his middle finger presses into you, stretching you around their double intrusion. Both boys are fingering you, one of them glancing against your spongy g-spot, the other pressing down on your inner wall. Together they withdraw before surging forward, switching positions, and dragging a shattered sob from you. “Gotta stay quiet, little mouse. Here. This’ll help.” And Steve’s gently pushing your balled up panties between your teeth, a makeshift gag that tastes like your excitement, but lets you hum helplessly as Eddie and Steve slide their fingers in and out of you. Your hand curves around Eddie’s head, tangling in his curls, delirious and dripping around his finger. Steve takes your other hand and presses it to his expanding bulge, the intention clear: he needs you to get him off. Whatever willpower you started the night with is gone now. Steve knows it. Eddie knows it. And you affirm it when you wrap your fist around Steve’s girthy member. Jerking him in smooth strokes, you spread his pre-cum downward, your fingers circling him loosely. His velvety skin is hot to the touch and you whimper at the way he jumps in your palm, as if his cock wants this as much as he does. It’s Eddie who kisses down your sternum, over your round tummy, and across your pelvis before lifting his brown eyes to yours. He has the audacity to wink, a wicked smile on his lips, as his spit covered tongue laps against your clit. Spasming underneath his attention, your hips buck, searching for more.

Steve shamelessly grinds into your grip, fucking into your hand the way he remembers fucking into you, letting his mouth run hot in your ear, “Look at you, little mouse. Getting so wet, so turned on that you let your friends fuck you with their fingers. And- er, shit-” he stutters, clamping down on his bottom lip to stave off cumming too fast, ”- and at the same time? What a dirty slut you are, huh, little mouse?” The terrible talk sets you alight as Eddie uses his mouth to drive you higher. As your orgasm begins to build as you whine, squeezing your eyes shut as if you could will your body to stop its inevitable decay into debauchery. Pivoting, you fully face Steve, cheeks streaked with tears, lips puffy around your make-shift gag. He sees your eyes roll back, a violent shudder coursing through you, as you wail thinly through the fabric in your mouth. That is all it takes; the sight of you sex drunk, humping your pelvis onto the fingers of each of the guys, your head draped over the couch’s back as a bead of sweat rolls down your neck. Steve’s release arrives then, coming in creamy waves that drip over your hand, as he quietly chants, “Oh shit. Oh fuck. Yessss!”

Eddie has not stopped, his talented fingers making up for any delay on Steve’s end but now they can both focus on making a complete mess of you. Kissing hotly along your jaw, Steve yanks your gag free, “Don’t make me regret this.” “I- I won’t” your purr hoarsely as Steve bites into your earlobe. Your body is contracting, muscles locking up when Eddie sucks against your pulsing bud wildly, making your burning thighs shake uncontrollably. There are two fingers curling inside of you, but they don’t belong to Steve. No, he’s bringing your cum stained fingers to your lips with a throaty command, “Clean yourself up, baby.” At the taste of Steve’s spunk your breath runs raggedly, chest heaving, a high pitched sigh escaping your dry lips. Your ears fuzz over like the end of the VHS tape, static-y and snow-filled. Collapsing from the inside out, you shake your head, as if you could deny the oncoming orgasm threatening to overwhelm you. A hand, your hand, yanks hard on Eddie’s curls as both boys work you through your climax. Somehow you manage to keep from screaming out your pleasure, biting your lip bloody, until you can inhale normally. Making a show of it, Eddie sucks his finger clean, “Hmm, baby, I swear you’re my favorite flavor.” Then he’s pushing his lips to yours, the tang of your intimate elixir fresh on his tongue, and you lean into his warmth.

It feels too good. The afterglow of being used by Steve and Eddie makes your tendons jelly and your bones soft. One of them hands you a Twizzler as you smile absently. Whatever resistance was in you, whatever fight you might have put up was destroyed the minute your mouth accepted Eddie’s kiss.

“You ok, mousie?” Steve elbows you playfully, that perfect smile filling his face. “Uh huh.” Eddie faces you now, a look that is close to concern coloring his features, “You uh, you seem pretty out of it, babe.”

A tear, one solitary tear crept over your cheek, through your shut eyes as you offered the pair a small smile, “I just wanna know one thing-”

“Yea? What’s that?” Blinking slowly, you swing your head between the two dark haired boys who you are sandwiched between, “How- uh, how did you know?” It’s Eddie who answers, confusion evident in his question, “Know what?” “That-” inhaling a shaky breath you will yourself to sound strong, “-that you could, ya know, do- uh do this to me.” Steve curls an arm around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Oh baby, is that what you think? That we did this to you and not for you?” “Princess, Stevie and I, we’ve wanted you for a long time. A long fucking time. And-” Interrupting, Steve continues with a heavy exhale, “And we found your diary. Ya know the one where you talk about both of us?” “What? Where?” Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more embarrassed, the idea that the guys had found your journal and had a chance to read some of the intimate and private thoughts you once committed to paper causes your stomach to flop.

“You left it here after sleeping over. I should feel bad about reading it, I guess-” leaning his forehead to yours, Steve sighs, “-but I don’t.” Eddie’s pushing against your side, turning your chin so he can really see you, needy for your attention, “And, we heard you. We saw you, uh- you were, um, touching yourself in Steve’s bed on Labor Day, when you thought you were alone. How you whimpered my name when this little hand-” snatching at your fingers, Eddie threads his through your own, placing a dainty kiss to the knuckles, “-this little paw was rubbing your pussy, shit. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” Swallowing thickly, your eyes roll shut at the memory. You had been swimming all day in the sun, Steve and Eddie looking so delicious in their swim trunks, one chest toned and tan, the other fair and tattooed. It was a moment of weakness, a moment when you gave into your base desires. Now a moment that wasn’t as private as you initially thought. “But- what happens now?” It was the question that hurt your heart and head the most. Almost afraid of the answer, you lick over your bottom lip, hands nervously toying with the fringe of Eddie’s jeans so you didn’t have to look either boy in the eye. “Now? We watch Nightmare on Elm Street.” Rolling your eyes, you land on Steve’s handsome face, “I mean, what happens between us three?” Eddie grins sheepishly, “Oh, well, we were talking about it and think that dinner is a good start. Maybe a movie? Or, if you wanna keep it simple, we can go to the lake-” “Eddie. I’m serious.” And you are. You need to know what to expect, if you should expect anything at all, from Steve and Eddie. “So are we.” Steve’s tone is firm. Final. And somehow reassuring. “Can- Can we do that?” Your voice is whisper light, timid and searching. “Miss Mouse, we can do whatever the hell we want.” Eddie closes the narrow gap between you, kissing along your jawline, before pecking down your throat. Steve mirrors his attention, sucking at your pulse point, his sharp teeth nipping playfully, making you hum. “Whatever- uh- whatever we want?” You repeat the words like a parrot, mind buzzing at the implication of their words and their deeds. Steve licks over your nipple, drawing gently against the sensitive skin there causing your back to arch, your fingers scratching against his scalp. The calloused fingers of Eddie’s hand pinch at your other nipple, making you stutter, “I- I want you both.” “We know, sweetheart. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you.” And Eddie’s lips meet yours as Steve’s shift lower, his weight laying over your legs. You’re being kissed senseless again and no longer have a reason to fight against the rising pressure of pleasure that both guys are bringing your way. — That Halloween night, when the moon is waning and clouds shroud the stars, you please and are pleased in equal measure by Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson. Maybe you have been blind, blind to what you need, what you want, what the boys can give you. But not any more. Now, now you can scurry towards exactly what you need, exactly who you need. You are one happy little mouse.

When Robin calls you on November First to apologize for ditching you, your voice is froggy, your body is sore and you’re barely awake. She asks about meeting up but you tell her you can’t. You have plans. Eddie and Steve are due over at your place at any minute.

----FIN----

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impala-dreamer · 4 months

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Tourniquet - Chapter Nine

Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

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Another Summer Alone

“Y/N!”

She was sitting on the old creaky stairs, knobby knees bent up to her chest. She was staring at the front door, waiting impatiently for the handle to turn.

“Y/N Y/L/N! Where you at, girl?”

Bobby’s voice boomed through the downstairs, bouncing off the plaster walls and finding its way to her ears.

“I’m here!”

She stood up as he appeared, wiping his wet hands with an old yellow rag. She was clean and dressed, hair uncharacteristically brushed out and hanging down over her shoulders. Her arms and legs were bare, and she wore a pale blue sundress and her white Keds.

Bobby’s brow creased as he looked her over.

“Whatchoo all dressed up for?”

Y/N shrugged, hiding her nervous smile. “Nothin’. Can’t a girl get dressed up around here? I am a girl, in case you forgot like everyone else.”

He hummed in reply and adjusted his trucker hat, wiggling it back into place. He was not as clean, wearing an old shirt and jeans, both more holy than the man himself; and a gray flannel that matched the grease stains on his hands. No matter how much he scrubbed his hands, they never looked clean. The dirt had sunk deep into the cracks of his palms, settled in the nail beds, seeped into his skin. Still, Y/N thought he was handsome, even with the scratchy beard and growing beer gut. He was Uncle Bobby. He was safe and caring and sturdy.

“Quit staring already,” she huffed, waving his gaze away with a delicate hand.

Bobby caught her hand and tugged it gently, turning her palm down. “You wearin’ nail polish, too?”

Y/N yanked her hand from his and turned her nose up in the air. “I can wear nail polish if I want to.”

“And that stuff on your eyes - your father let you wear that crap?”

She looked back over her shoulder and prepared to fight back at such an accusation with some teenage rampage about how if he cared what she did with her body, he’d be there to yell at her himself. Before the words could truly form, she heard it.

Gravel crushed under tires.

A roaring engine.

The heavy creak of door hinges.

A knock on the door.

Her heart raced and she looked at Bobby who nodded toward the door, letting her get it.

The setting sun was bright, striking her gaze with a familiar sting.

Green eyes, spiked hair, pale freckles, beautiful smile. Seventeen looked good on him.

Dean bit his bottom lip as he looked her over. “Hey, Y/N/N.”

Her heart soared;, her cheeks burned. “Hey, Dean.”

A gruff voice broke through their reunion as John pushed Dean through the entryway.

“You gonna stand outside all day or get in? Move it, Dean.”

The older boy stepped aside and John bounded in, ignoring Y/N and greeting Bobby with a firm handshake and a manly hug.

The smell of whiskey and dirty smoke followed him in and Y/N gagged silently next to Dean. He laughed under his breath and gave her a secret wink.

Sam was next through the door, carrying two giant duffle bags that were threatening to take the kid down.

“Hi, Y/N,” he greeted shyly as Dean took the weight from his left shoulder.

“Heya, Sam. Nice to see ya.”

He blushed as if the simple fact that she knew his name was enough to send him to seventh heaven.

With the welcome done, Bobby cleared his throat. “Well, if you boys want supper, drop your bags upstairs and get cleaned up. We wash our hands before eating here.”

Sam nodded and adjusted the strap on his arm. “Yes, sir.”

Dean hung back with Y/N, wanting to talk to her, but John snapped at him.

“You too, Dean.”

He sighed. “Yes, sir.”

John rolled his eyes and turned away, following Bobby into the back.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Dean whispered to Y/N, accidentally on purpose bumping into her as he went for the stairs.

“Me too,” she grinned.

She watched him go, dreaming of running away with him someday, of stealing a car from out front and racing off into the sunset together.

He must have felt her staring and paused on the top step. He glanced back down at her.

“You look really nice,” he said.

Her heart nearly burst.

John left the next morning and the house seemed to sigh in relief.

They spent the summer days lounging about or sneaking around in the Ford graveyard. Sam kept to himself, shoving his nose in a book or trying to get better reception from the rabbit ears on the old tv in the bedroom.

Bobby kept one eye on the budding couple, but mostly let them do as they pleased. Dean and Y/N were too old now to really reprimand, but he was especially attentive when they teens hung about in the shadows. It would be one thing for them to get hurt fooling around in the yard, scraping knees or burning themselves on hot metal, but Y/N ending up pregnant under his nose was something he wasn’t willing to risk.

Y/N hadn’t been so happy in a long time and from the look of the fading bruises on his face and arms, neither had Dean.

He seemed sadder than she remembered him being. Despite his smile, there was something underneath that she couldn’t quite reach, some secret he was holding in. She held him just a little tighter when they hugged, snuggled just a little closer when they sat together on the ratty old sofa.

Still, there was a calmness between them, a warmth that they shared, as if the sun were beating down just for them. When Dean looked at her, he smiled. When she held his hand, he relaxed.

It was nice.

Days turned to weeks and the summer wind grew warmer. They spent hours in the field or down by the stream, kicking rocks into the water and chatting about everything.

Dean was proud that John had finally let him hunt and he assured Y/N that he was being safe, and was actually really good at it. She worried, but knew that someday he’d be the greatest hunter in the world. He was amazing like that. She had no doubts.

Y/N talked quietly about her travels with her father, about the miles and monsters they’d conquered. They’d finally made it to Kentucky, she announced with the cadence of an inside joke, and his smile made her melt.

“You ever wish you didn’t know about this stuff?” he asked one evening while they lay in the grass side by side.

Y/N was propped up on one arm, watching him as he watched the fireflies sparkle overhead.

“I guess. Yeah.” She sighed. “I mean, this is life, isn’t it? I think I’d rather know the thing under my bed could really kill me instead of pretending it didn’t exist.”

Dean chewed his bottom lip. His hands were clasped behind his head and he shifted a bit, getting comfortable even as his words made it impossible.

“I’d rather not know, I think,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I want to do this the rest of my life. I’d rather be doing something else. Anything else.”

Y/N smiled softly. “And what would you be doing right now if you weren’t stuck on this track?”

He turned his eyes to her. “Honestly?”

She laughed. “Always.”

He took a breath and twisted onto his side, facing her. “I’d take you and run. Get away from everything. Find some place safe, some place that isn’t crawling with evil sons of bitches. Somewhere we could just… live.”

Y/N felt that old familiar ache in her chest and she dropped her chin, tugged on a blade of grass between them. His words soaked into her soul, and she wished more than anything that he was serious, that they could really run away together.

“That’s a nice dream, Dean,” she whispered.

“Yeah…”

There was more to say, more she wanted to tell him, but nothing came out. She was stunned by his hand suddenly on her cheek, his fingers holding her so tentatively.

“Would you?” he asked, eyes locked on hers, lips drawing ever closer.

She was trembling despite the warmth pushing off of him. “Would I what?”

“Run away with me.”

Her eyes fell closed and her stomach fluttered. She leaned in, closing the void between them.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t her first kiss, nor was it his, but the taste of him would linger on her lips forever. The feel of his body rolling over her, pressing her into the ground would live in her head for the rest of her life.

They kissed as the sky darkened; hands fumbling over cotton, lips chasing more. His tongue was hungry, his knee between her legs was like a match igniting everything inside of her.

It was quiet and desperate and clumsy, but it was perfect all the same, and only the fireflies knew.

Dean was fiddling with something on the workbench, his back to the yard. He was sweating in the hot August sun and his gray t-shirt was dark around the collar and under his arms. His jeans were dusty and a greasy handprint painted his back right pocket.

Y/N slapped it when she approached and Dean yelped, jumping off his feet.

“Gah!”

She laughed. “Gotcha.”

He spun around, hands hiding something behind his back. “You sure do…”

Her arms slid up around his neck and he dipped down to kiss her lips. A quick peck that she filled with as much love as she possibly could.

Mama once warned her not to go falling in love with just anyone who winked at her, and not to spend her youth running from one bed to another. She hadn’t understood at the time, but the older she got, the more sense it made.

But sixteen wasn’t too young to fall in love and Dean Winchester wasn’t just anyone.

He pulled back before he wouldn’t be able to any longer. “Wanna run into town tonight? Maybe catch a movie?”

Y/N’s smile fell. “Um…”

Dean searched her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She took a step back and shifted her weight between each foot. “My dad’s here. He just showed up.”

His face fell. “Oh.”

“He wasn’t supposed to be back for a few weeks, I didn’t know-”

Dean’s jaw tensed and he looked down at his boot; kicked up some dust. “It’s cool.”

Y/N’s chest ached. “I’m sorry, Dean. I want to stay. I want to run away with you but-”

“Hey-” He stopped her, hand raising between them. “It was just a dream.”

Wetness threatened to spill from her eyes. “Yeah, it was.”

He took a breath and pulled his right hand from behind his back. “Made you something,” he said, letting a thin ball chain hang down.

Y/N’s breath was heavy, her smile true. She took the necklace and held it in her palm. The pendant was a thin lug nut, probably something he’d kicked up in the gravel, polished and sanded down a bit.

She laughed sweetly. “It’s…”

He cringed. “Stupid, I know.”

“... it’s perfect, Dean.”

It hung on her neck, dipping down to just above the low cut of her tank top. The metal gleamed in the sun and it burned between them as Dean leaned down for one last kiss.

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#spn fanfic #supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #dean x reader #series #tourniquet #how many tags can i fit on here?#does it matter?#i love this chapter omg

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platanarium · 8 months

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#ootd #outfit #mirror selfie #fashion blog #knit sweater #ribbed sweater #basic shirt #layered tops #layered outfit #bomber jacket #blue jeans #mom jeans #white keds

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thesmokingguns · 1 year

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So Caught up in You

It was the nerves that surprised you. When had you ever been nervous around Nikki or anyone in the band? Never. You had just waltzed in one day, laying around on a dirty couch and smoking someone else's cigarettes. They had just accepted your presence because Tommy wasn’t ever going to tell you to leave and the boys all had adopted you as theirs. Tommy had known you the longest, you had played together as kids and his mother and yours swapped recipes.

You didn’t know when it started but one day you had climbed in the window of the hell house and saw Nikki writing music on the couch. There was something about the way he looked, his black hair down and unstyled, roots leaking through, black jeans and sneakers, just a sweatshirt on and no makeup. He was just Nikki at that moment and not Nikki Sixx the bassist. But it tightened your belly and you realized that you had a crush on him. So you had done the only thing you could think to do and flounced over, sitting on his knee, fingers brushing his bass as he looked up at you, surprise in his eyes as you didn’t look away.

“What are you doing, kid?” you shrugged a shoulder and he shook his head, “I knew that I smelled trouble.” he looked concerned, like he wasn’t exactly sure what he should be doing or if he should be doing anything but you didn’t get up. Instead you raised his head, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. It was gentle and sweet, so unlike what he was going through lately that he just watched, letting you take the lead.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you thought he looked good but you were afraid the compliment would go right to his head and you would have to deal with him being too cocky and that just wouldn’t do. So instead you pushed his hand from his bass and moved it to your hip, watching his eyes look down, take in your country club tennis outfit, white skirt, white keds, white soft sweater. When Nikki looked back up, ready to question what you were doing you kissed him.

That was the real trouble; you didn’t know Nikki had been trying to not kiss you for months now. He was keeping himself in line because you were Tommy’s childhood friend and everyone knew the drummer looked at you like a baby sister. Nikki had been spending his time on his best behavior and now you were climbing through windows and kissing him, taking away all the self control he had.

You pushed his bass aside, letting him grab your thighs, pull you on his lap as you smiled against his lips, letting Nikki take over now as he let his tongue drag across your bottom lip, pushing between them as you whimpered into his mouth. He shook his head, pulling back to look at you as you cocked your head to the side.

“Why’d ya stop?” you were aware of your muttered words, how you felt a little warm from kissing him. So different from the boys and girls you had kissed before. But Nikki had a serious look on his face, looking at you with his green eyes. He was making sure this was real and not some sort of game you were playing. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in some laugh you were having at his expense.

“What are you doing, kid?” He sighed out because he knew you didn’t understand what he wanted but you shrugged your shoulders at him in the same nonchalant way you went about everything,, “We can’t do this.” He was firmer with you now, but his fingers still tugged at the bottom of your sweater, not quite ready to let you up yet.

You had men who had wanted you and knew that sometimes people needed just a nudge in the right direction and you had no problem giving Nikki some nudges.

“You just looked pretty and I wanted to kiss you.” And your honesty made him have to shake his head, trying to hide the smile that was peeking through. You were well aware that you were being vulnerable but you wanted to kiss him again, “Let's go into your room. No one is here.” you were moving to stand up, reaching for his hand to tug him with you but Nikki stood, shaking his head at you.

“No, kid. Why don’t you head home?” he was pulling away from you, not giving you your way and infuriating you as your eyes narrowed and your pout settled on the sweet features of your face. Nikki saw the look and knew at that point you had him hook, line, and sinker.

“Nikki.” His name was a whine, the soft thump of your foot making him look at you, green eyes smiling as he ruffled your head and pushed you towards the window. He needed you to leave before this got to far but as you climbed out the window you swore to yourself you were going to get your revenge on him for making you wait.

Which leads you to now, standing in front of your bedroom mirror, looking at the lace bustier you were wearing as a shirt, thigh high stockings clipped to a garter belt peeking out from under the black leather skirt you were wearing that was short enough that when you walked your ass started to peak out and you had to constantly play the step and tug game.. You had gone right to the store after Nikki had told you No, having a bit of a Sandra D moment as you shed your white keds for black lace and bad decisions.

The boys had a show tonight and you were going to show up, look at Nikki in your new getup and give him a minute to regret saying no to you earlier.

And for calling you kid.

It wasn’t that he had just said no to you, it was how he had dismissed you so easily, like it didn’t matter that you had wanted to kiss him. He was acting like you couldn’t make up your mind and that infuriated you. You knew you had a crush on him and he should have taken your feelings more seriously.

Nikki was getting off stage when he saw you, bumping into Vince who had caught sight of you first and nearly making both of them fall to the sticky back stage floor. Your eyes, lined in black with long black eyelashes looked at Nikki, the lingerie you were wearing as an outfit giving him more than he could handle seeing. Your red lips wrapped around a lollipop, popped off with a sticky wet sound that had the boys all very interested in having your attention.

“Jesus, Y/N. You’re going to catch pneumonia.” Tommy was pushing his way over, grabbing the towel Nikki had been wiping his face with in an attempt to cover you. But you twirled away, heads leaning to the side to watch the way your high heels made a clicking sound against the ground and your hips swayed, you tossed your hair over your shoulder, eyes on Nikki who looked like a starved animal.

“Good show today, kid.” At that moment they all realized you had dressed up for the bassist and jealousy filled up the boys. Except for Tommy who was shaking head with a firm ‘no’ coming out of his mouth, looking at Nikki who was smiling again.

Maybe he had underestimated you but he watched you, the way you tossed your hair over your shoulder looking at him.

“I have a date tonight but I’ll see you boys around.” you walked without doing the tug making sure Nikki could see the way your ass was bouncing free.

The door hadn’t even shut yet when you were pinned against a wall, Nikki’s body planted against you as he breathed you in. The hot heat of desire so strong as you looked up at him, seeing the torment that was on his face. Poor Nikki was trying to be a good boy but you wanted him so bad.

“You’re trying to kill me, Ya know? Kill me.” he hissed it out, Leather clad thigh slipping between your legs as you gasped out. Perfect little red’ ‘o’ of a mouth forming as he pushed his thigh into the heat of your pussy, “I’m trying to do right by you, ya know that kid? Tryin’ to be good enough but you are not making it easy.” You blinked at him.

“I just wanted you to kiss me Nikki. Kiss me from my head to my toes. If you’re good at that, that’s all I care about.” his hand formed a fist as you spoke and he had to close his eyes, head going back as he tried not to get mad at how easy you were toying with him. “But I have a date so I should-”

“Like hell you do.” your eyes were on him now, watching the green of his eyes thicken with jealousy, pulling away from you and grabbing your wrist as you tilted your head, “You’re coming home with me. None of these other guys are any good.” And just like that you were getting exactly what you-

“You can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the floor.” your pout was on your face again and you tried to tug away but Nikki wasn’t letting you go. He wanted you. He really wanted you but if you just wanted lust he wasn’t going to give in. “Kid, I’ll toss you over my shoulder. Don’t put up a fight.” You thought about kicking his ankle but decided against it. Letting Nikki drag you along.

If he hadn’t looked so damn good earlier this wouldn’t have happened. This stupid crush you were trying to get over but Nikki was just digging you deeper into. Would it ever end?

#Nikki Sixx #Nikki Sixx x YOu #Nikki Sixx fan fic #Nikki Sixx fanfic #Nikki Sixx Fan Fiction #Nikki Sixx fanfiction #Nikki Sixx Motley Crue #Nikki Sixx HC #Nikki Sixx Headcanon #Nikki Sixx fic #Motley Crue fan fic #80s rock fanfic #fan fiction #The dirt fanfic #The dirt imagine #The Dirt fan fic

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classickicksandcuffsocks · 1 year

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Black Jeans. White Keds.

A classic winter combo!

Like what you see? Why not leave a tip?

#keds #white keds #keds shoes #keds sneakers #black jeans #skinny jeans

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summerchick13 · 4 months

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My OOTD for February 1, 2024

working from home and going to an improv workshop tonight

cardigan: Made by Johnny

t-shirt: Hot Topic

skinny jeans: Levi's

sneakers: Keds

#winter #casual #fashion #style #clothes #clothing #outfit #outfit of the day #ootd

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watsittoyah · 1 year

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Heartbreaker- (Eddie Munson x Black Fem Reader x Steve Harrington Smut)

Warning- blowjob, hand job, some sexual innuendos, smut, and pure sex baby.

( Previous , Next)

Rule number three, wear your heart on your cheek. But never on your sleeve, unless you wanna taste defeat…

It was Tuesday afternoon and you were watching a bloody double feature with Erica while you two did skin care. “Don’t go in there, idiot! The killer is in there!” Erica shouts.

“He’s gonna use that axe on you! He’s going to kill you!” You and Erica warn the poor unexpected girl but as the scene cuts to the killer hacking her into pieces you both look at each other and shrug. “She should’ve listened to us.”

“Yeah, and maybe she’d be alive. If we were in a horror movie, we would make it to the end.” You give Erica a high five and get up to get grab some more juice boxes. “Hell yeah we would. I bet you that the killer would be afraid of us too.” You call out from the kitchen. You look at the timer and it’s just about time to take the clay masks off.

“Hey Erica you can wash the mask off now! I’m gonna start on mine!” You wash your clay mask off in the bathroom and just when you get half it off of the one half of your face the doorbell rings. “Erica can you get that?” You call out. The door bell sounds off again after a few seconds which pisses you off since no one was answering the door and the person behind the ringing was clearly impatient.

“Fine! I’ll get it!” You march out of the bathroom and walk right up to the front door. Ready to snap on whoever it was. When you yank the door open you were face to face with a mess of heavy metal hair and a pair of dark brown eyes.

“Hey Hollywood.” You slam the door in his face and let out a blood curdling scream as you wipe off the rest of the clay mask on the back of your hand.

Once the screams were out of your system you open the door to a very concerned Eddie Munson. “Pretty boy, what are you doing here?” You ask trying to not look like a doofus in front of him.

“We have a date remember?” That’s when you remember the phone call from Saturday and he did say he wanted to take you out Tuesday afternoon. “Right! I’ll just need like ten minutes. Come on in and I’ll be right back.” You invite Eddie in and he takes a seat on the couch.

Once he’s situated you book it to your room and you look at some clothes. Once you’re settled on a pair of ripped jean, a distressed t-shirt, a jean jacket and your beat up keds you fluff up your hair and quickly put on some cherry smacker lip balm as well as some mascara.

After you’ve found yourself to be somewhat presentable you go back to the living room to find Lucas standing there looking dumbfounded. “You ready to go, Hollywood?” Eddie asks as he stands up when you enter.

“Can I talk to her for a second?” Lucas grabs a hold of your arm and drags you into the kitchen. “How the hell do you know Eddie Munson?” He asks in a harsh whisper. “Why are you whispering? And I know him because he and I became friends.”

“Friends? Olivia please tell me you’re joking.” You shake your head and smirk. “Look this is cute that you’re so protective but I gotta blow this popsicle stand.” You go to leave but Lucas stops you again. “Look you’re my big cousin and I know you can handle yourself. But if he ever hurts you. I don’t care if we’re in the same club, I’m breaking his jaw.” You look to make sure Eddie wasn’t listening and you touch Lucas’ shoulder.

“Hey, I got this, just chill out okay? Eddie has only ever been nice and if things get crazy I’ll handle it. Thank you for looking out for me though.” Lucas sighs. “Alright, I just don’t want anything to happen to you. Eddie seems decent I guess. But he better be the only one of my friends you’re talking to. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it if you were talking to someone like Steve Harrington.”

What your baby cousin doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

After your lecture from Lucas you go back to the living room where Eddie was checking out some family photos. “Is that you holding up a barbie Malibu doll?” You look at the photo he’s talking about and it was the one where you’re showing off your Christmas gifts to your family while having two missing teeth in the front.

“Alright that’s enough of looking at my embarrassing moments for one day, pretty boy. Let’s get out of here.” You push him out the door and lock it behind you.

“So what’s the plans for this afternoon?” You ask as Eddie opens the van door for you. You get in and soon after so does he. “Ah, that is a surprise. And a wicked one. Just sit back, relax and listen to some tunes.”

He flicks on the radio and Nasty from Janet Jackson plays. “Don’t change it! I love this song!” You move your hips in the seat and start singing along. Eddie starts driving but you catch him watching you from the corner of his eye and you put on a show. Moving your hands around and snapping your fingers.

“Cause privacy is my middle name…My last name is control. No, my first name ain’t baby. It’s Olivia…Ms. Sinclair, if you’re nasty…NASTY!”

You give a wink to Eddie and he was loving the show for sure. When a red light comes up he fully stops and turns the radio down after the song finishes.

“Well now I’m curious, Ms. Sinclair. How nasty do you like it?” Eddie asks with some kind of dark meaning behind that question. You flick your tongue across your bottom lip which his eyes definitely watches and you smile.

“All depends, how nasty do you want to give it to me, Mr. Munson?” Eddie bites his lip and he leans over towards you about to test something but a horn blares behind you two, causing you both to jump.

Eddie rolls down his window flipping them off and driving down the street once again. You lean back over and turn up the radio again and squeal. “This has to be my lucky day! I love this song too!” Bananarama was playing and you were going to put on another one woman show for your adoring fan Eddie Munson.

***

Eddie had parked by a really old beat up building and you were curious as in where this white boy just brought you. “Relax, I know how this place looks but I promise you, you will have fun. A few of my band mates are here and they are dying to meet you.” Eddie takes your hand and you notice he’s running his thumb up and down your knuckles which does calm you down a bit.

“Eddie ‘Pretty Boy’ Munson, are you in a band?” You ask with tease in your tone. “Didn’t I mention that to you last time?” He asks with a smirk playing across his lips. “Hmm if I recall last time you were too busy singing to my hotbox.” You point out with your own smirk.

“Mm, and I’ve been thinking about that pretty hotbox of yours every night since then.” Eddie leans in close about to kiss you but gets interrupted by a guy with curly brown hair. “Eddie! Come on, we’re waiting on you!” The guy runs back inside and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Rain check on this kiss, I gotta give the people what they want.” He says as he leads you into the questionable building.

“You are such a dweeb.” You tell him with a giggle. You look around the place and shit it was rad. There were musical memorabilia adorned across the walls. Huge poster of bands you’ve only ever listened to on your radio, and there was a great crowd of people.

Eddie leads you to a seat in the front of a stage and he leans in close to your ear. “Enjoy the show Hollywood.” Before you could ask what he leaves you there and jumps on stage with four other guys and he picks up a guitar. You cross your legs and watch what him and the guys are about to do next.

“Alright you rejects! We are Corroded Coffin and this is just a cover to one of the best songs to come from this decade.” Eddie looks at you and he winks as the crowd listens up.

He turns to his band mates and he gives them the signal. As the song starts you immediately recognize the beat. You lean forward in your seat to see if they can keep up to this song. “Come on pretty boy show me what you got.”

Eddie was feeling his guitar intro and when the crowd was getting into it, he grabbed the mic and started to sing which was impressive in your opinion. You see some of the girls in the crowd start dancing and you look back to Eddie locking eyes with you. You feel the electricity in the air as he leans down and sings to you.

“Come crawling faster, Obey your Master, Your life burns faster, Obey your master, master..”

You feel yourself get up and dance for him. Your eyes not leaving each other as the music builds. You run your fingers through your hair and mouth the lyrics back to him.

To you, it was just Eddie on that stage and he was putting on the performance of a life time just for you. As the guitar solo happens you hear the crowd cheering him on and you knew that he would be a rock god one day if he wanted.

As the last cord plays the crowd screams for them and you join along. Getting a blown kiss from Eddie.

When him and his band mates were done packing up their instruments, you run over to the Eddie and jump on him, he was holding you up by your ass as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “You were fucking amazing!” You look at his wide eyed band mates and point to them. “You all were fucking amazing! Holy shit!” You laugh and Eddie joins you as he puts you down.

“Guys let me introduce you to Hollywood.” Eddie says as he wraps his arms around you and holds you from behind. You swat him playfully. “My name is Olivia Sinclair. And it’s really nice to meet you all.”

“Oh you’re that Olivia.” The drummer says with a secret smirk. You look up at Eddie and he was blushing hard. “Shut up, Marvin.” He hisses. “Let’s watch a few more of the bands play and eat some burgers. Sound good to you, Hollywood?”

“Hey I get more entertainment and food? I’m always down for a good time. Let’s go.” Eddie leads you to a table and as you go to sit, he stops you and pulls you onto his lap. “Did you really enjoy the show?” He asks. “I did, you guys were great. I’m sure if the right people saw that performance and felt the energy, you would be signed like that.” You say snapping your finger.

“Really?” He asks looking up at you like a kid at a candy store and you lean down to kiss him. “Guys mind if we join you?” Marvin asks interrupting the kiss. You were annoyed and by the way Eddie was glaring, he was annoyed as well. But that didn’t stop his band mates from joining you two at the table.

As they talk you feel Eddie’s hand rubbing on the exposed skin of your side and you look down at him and steal a kiss, not caring if anyone was watching. “You know, since I did so well, how about a reward later?” He ask as his hand travels to your ass. “I can give you your reward but I’m sure your friends would be jealous.” You tease, kissing his neck. Your hand travels to his crotch and you feel a bulge starting to form.

“Hey Olivia, you’re from California right? So what’s it’s like over there?” Eddie whines against your neck as his other friend interrupts your moment. You put on a fake smile and tilt your head. “Well Cali is cool. I mean if you like bumping into celebrities from time to time. Last time when I was shopping for albums I had bumped into…”

As you tell your story you stroke your hand over Eddie’s crotch and you hear him clear his throat as he places your hand on top of his. Guiding you into his jeans. You feel the tip of his dick and it was wet from sweat and precum.

Just so it isn’t too obvious you use just your thumb to roll over the tip and you feel Eddie shift a bit as he enjoys your touch.

You feel him lean into your shoulder and you rub the tip faster, pretending to be into the story you’re telling the guys as Eddie tries to hump your thumb.

When you get to the climax of the story you feel something sticky squirt on your thumb and you feel Eddie relax. “What do you say Eddie?” You ask him so he can feel included in the story. “Yeah, definitely that.” He says as he looks at you, cum drunk. “Oh definitely that.” You say as you lick your thumb clean in front of just him.

He bites his lip and you turn back to his friends. “So if you guys get the chance to visit, please do. I’ll definitely be your guide there as well.”

“Are there more girls like you there?” Marvin asks. You shake your head. “Oh no Marv, girls like me come once in a lifetime.”

***

After the burgers and the good music Eddie was checking his watch and he leans up to your ear. “How do you feel about crashing a party?”

“Oh party crasher is my middle name. Let’s go.” You two get up from the table and you tell his friends again that it was nice meeting them. Eddie gives a few of them fist bumps and tells them that practice was same time tomorrow.

When you two get in his van Eddie takes out a metal box and hands it to you. “Can you roll one for us, babe.” He asks as he starts the van. You eye him as you take out the weed and clear your throat.

“So when did I become babe?” You ask as you sprinkle the weed on the paper. “What? I didn’t call you babe.”

“Yes you did. Just a moment ago. When did I become babe, pretty boy?” You ask licking the joint closed. He looks at you and chews his thumb. “You don’t like it?”

“Oh I don’t mind it. But I’d like to know when did I earn a new nickname.” You reach for his lighter in his pocket and he shrugs. “I don’t know, I just said it….but if I’m being honest with you, you've been babe every night since I’ve been looking at your panties.” You see the red in his cheeks admitting to that confession and you take a deep hit.

“Ooh, all you do is look at them?” You pass him the joint and he scoffs accepting it. “You know I do way more than just look, Hollywood.” You both laugh and he drives up to a loud house party. You two see the kids going in and out and you look at him sideways.

“You party with jocks and cheerleaders? Oh you are dark, Munson.” You tell him as you blow a smoke circle from your lips. “One, I’m going to need you to teach me that, and two we’re not partying with them. I’m just selling some stuff to one of the guys here. His name is Jason. He’s a total dick but his money is good so…” He stubs the joint out a bit and places it in his pocket for later.

“Eddie, are you really taking me on a drug deal? I feel honored.” You place your hand over your heart and he rolls his eyes, while leaning in kissing your lips. “Come on Hollywood, the sooner we get this over with the sooner we can get the hell out of here.”

Eddie holds your hand as you two enter the party. You see red solo cups and see a few couples on the wall practically having sex. “Maybe this is my kind of party.” You yell to Eddie over the loud music. “Don’t get any idea’s Hollywood. I see Jason over by the keg. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your cheek and he gets lost in the mass of moving bodies.

You find a space on the wall and hear Girls Just Wanna Have Fun and you grab a Solo cup from a drunk freshman. He trips and passes out right in front of you. “Party hard huh kid?” You sniff the concoction and wince pouring it out in a plant vase close by.

“What is this, gasoline?” You mutter as you bob your head to the beat of the song. “So-” You put your hand up at the towering jock. “Not interested.” You scan the crowd and see Eddie coming towards you.

As you push off the wall, and walk over the passed out freshman you pull Eddie in close and he was smiling like an old drunk. “You missed me?” You shake your head teasing him. “No.” He leans in and pulls your face close to his as he kisses you. His hands travels down your back and squeezes your ass hard.

As you throw your arms around his neck you feel someone knock into you two. It was the jock from earlier, but he has a cheerleader with him dancing way off beat.

“Come on let’s go somewhere more quiet.” Eddie takes your hand and he leads you to the bathroom. He checks to make sure no one was in there and he leads you inside, locking the door behind him. You flick on the light but the bulb pops. “Not my problem.” Thankfully the moonlight was bright enough to see each other.

You hop on the bathroom sink and lean back looking around. “You sure know where all the classy places are, huh Pretty boy?” Eddie stands between your legs and leans in. “I sure do.” He nuzzled against your neck and you let out a soft moan.

Before you can get into it he moves back and smirks while he digs into his pocket. “Tease.” You shoot at him. “Takes one to know one.” He teases back as he takes out the joint from earlier and he lights it. “You know Eddie you’re kind of gorgeous.” You tell him as you look at him taking a hit in the moon light. He blows the smoke and scoffs. “Oh please.”

“I’m serious, you are gorgeous. And I saw you on that stage, you’re a star in the making. Let me be your first fan, Mr. Munson.” You take the joint from him and he stands closer between your legs. “Well then you’re my special fan. You’re the only one who gets access to me like this.” As you go to blow out the smoke he grabs your face and kisses you. Filling up his lungs in the process and he blow the smoke out after. “Oh that was hot. Made you look like a dragon, pretty boy.”

“Really?” He smiles against your lips and you nod, flicking your tongue out. He flicks his back and leans in, tasting your tongue and lips. You feel him rubbing your inner thighs through your jeans and you let out a moan.

“Too bad you didn’t wear a skirt tonight, Hollywood. I’m pretty hungry right now.” You lean back and look at your button then back at him. “So is a pair of pants going to stop you from a meal?”

“Hell no.” You hear him unbutton your pants and unzip your zipper. You jump down for a second for him to yank your pants down but he stops you from taking off your panties. “Leave those on.”

He lifts you up and places you back on the counter while he gets on his knees for you. “You look good down there. Gorgeous even.” You say biting your lip. “Do I?” He flutters his lashes as you and as you go to laugh you watch him kiss your inner thighs.

He’s keeping his eyes locked on you, watching your body reacts to his kisses. As he kisses further your breathing seems to quicken. He gets to where your panties and thigh meets and his tongue tastes that spot causing you to let you head fall back and moan.

Eddie then nips there and sucks making a nice angry red spot appear. “Just so people know who’s spot this belongs to.” Eddie says as he centers himself at the wet center of your panties.

His tongue makes contact with the cloth and you slowly start humping for friction. His eyes flutter closed as he buries his face deeper between your thighs and you hump faster. You flick the joint in the sink and you use both of your hands to touch his head. “Just like that, Eddie don’t stop.” You moan out as his spit makes the wet spot in your panties soaked. You let go of his head and he moves your panties to the side flicking his tongue fast across your wet clit.

“Fuck…” You whimper as your pussy gets assaulted with Eddie’s tongue. You feel his fingers enter you and you grip the sink. “Eddie, yes…” He does his favorite move on you. Doing the come here motion while his thumb was pressed on your clit and you buck your hips, not caring if anyone could hear your moans in the bathroom. “That’s it, come for me, Hollywood. I know you can do it for me. I wanna taste your cum again.”

Your legs begin to shake and you lean your head back against the bathroom mirror as you're about to cum fast. “Almost there…” Eddie flicks his tongue on your clit and that’s what did it for you. You feel yourself coming hard and your legs locked around his head. You have fist fulls of his hair and you hump his tongue getting out your orgasm. He sucks and moans as your juice slick down his throat.

“Mmm, you just keep tasting better and better, Hollywood.” He gets up and you lick your juices off of his chin. “Please tell me you brought a condom.” You ask yanking him back between your thighs. “Oh I did.” He goes for his belt but you two hear several bangs to the bathroom door along with a handle jiggle.

“Hurry up in there! I gotta piss!” You hear a muffled voice sound behind the door and you lean your head against his chest, groaning. He kisses the top of your head and moves you off of the sink. “To be continued.” He tells you as he helps you with your pants. “To be continued.” You groan.

You both leave the bathroom and the person standing there rushes in and slams the door behind them. “An excuse me would’ve been nice.” You snap in their direction.

Eddie was chuckling at your outburst as he leads you back outside to his van. When you two are in the car you look at the time. “I really wish this night didn’t have to end.” You mumble as Eddie drives down the road.

***

Eddie was parked in the driveway and you were pouting a bit. “Are you mad you didn’t get to fuck me, Hollywood.” Eddie asks as he pokes your rib. You laugh and push his hand away.

“Oh I’m going to fuck you Eddie Munson. I’m not worried about that. It’s just I had fun today. I got to see you in your element and it was cool. Promise me if you make it big you won’t forget me?”

“What do you mean, I’m taking you with me, Hollywood.” He leans in and gives a peck to your lips and you sigh. “Thank you for today, Eddie. It was fun.” As you start to leave out the van he stops you. “Just out of curiosity. Which bedroom is yours?” You raise a brow at his question. “That room on the second floor. Why?” You ask pointing out the window. “No reason, just curious. Good night Hollywood.”

“Oh, okay. Well Good Night, babe.” You smile and get out of the van. After he makes sure you get inside you close the door behind you and you sigh against the door.

You could see yourself falling for Eddie, but that was against the rules of a heartbreaker.

You shake the thought away and go upstairs to go take your shower and get ready for bed.

After your hot shower, you were wrapped in a towel and in your bedroom, putting on some lotion and listening to the radio. You hear Run DMC playing and you pick up your brush rapping to the lyric. When you’re about to bang out you hear a tap to your window. You freeze while turning the radio down. You listen again and the tapping happens.

You walk over to the window and then you open the curtains you see Eddie smiling at you. “Are you fucking crazy! What if the neighbors see you?” You hiss as Eddie climbs in through the window. “The neighbors didn’t see me. Just you and I have to say if this is what you sleep in, my prayers have been answered.” Eddie says as he eyes you up and down. You put a finger to your lips and you lock the door.

“What are you doing here?” You ask in a low whisper. “You said you didn’t want the night to end so I’m sleeping over.” You scoff at his answer. “Eddie, sweet sweet Eddie. Are you dumb? If my Aunt or Uncle catch you in my bedroom they will ship me back to Cali so fast the bumper stick won’t even say or bust.”

He raises his hands and walks up to you. “They won’t catch me, because I’ll be quiet. You on the other hand.” His eyes keeps wondering to your towel and you can’t help but feel a new wetness between your thighs. “Hold on.” You go to your radio and you turn up the volume a little so no one can hear you two talking.

You turn back to him and tug at your towel. “Curious to see what’s under here, huh pretty boy?” He nods as he sits on your bed. “I dream about what you look like under those clothes you always wear, and now…” You let the towel fall and his eyes widen.

“Jesus H Christ, you are beautiful.” His hands cup your bare ass and he pulls you onto his lap. He kisses you and you kiss him back, letting your hums turn to moans. He moves back and his touch becomes greedy as he moves his hands from your ass to your tits. He looks at them and then stops. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” You ask, already knowing what he sees. “That. Is that a hickey?” He ask thumbing the now lightly purple bruise. “No, clearly that is a burn mark from when I was curling my hair.”

“And you curl your hair topless?” Eddie ask. “Doesn’t everyone?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I guess I should make your other boyfriend jealous and give you more of these.” He leans in and he sucks on the other side of your tit causing an even more angry red spot. “Wait, so you’re my…boyfriend now?” You moan out teasing him. He swats your ass to shut you up and he starts his assault on your other tit. Looking up at you to make sure you see who is giving you these love bites.

You moan against him and you reach down to feel his dick was hard. You push him off of you and you stand up. “There was a question you asked me earlier in our date. Do you remember what it was, pretty boy?” You ask as you cock your head to the side.

His eyes travel from your face all the way to what’s slick between your legs and he nods and you nudge your chin, letting him know you want to hear the question again.

“I asked you, how nasty do you like it?” He answers as he looks back up into your eyes. You get on your knees, in front of him and you rub his bulge, causing him to bite his bottom lip. “All depends, how nasty are you going to give it to me, Mr. Munson?”

He shimmies his pants down and you’re greeted by a bulge. You rub a finger over the head and look up at him. “Don’t forget these, big boy.” He yanks his boxers down and his dick springs, slapping his lower stomach. The tip was pink and it was thick. Not as thick as Steve’s but boy was it just so…

“You have a pretty dick, Munson.” You say as you take a hold of it. Eddie hisses and as he kicks his pants, sneakers and boxers away. “Well you have a pretty pussy and lips, so maybe they can-” You stroke him to shut him up and his eyes roll back as he pulls his shirt off over his head.

You see he has a necklace with a pick on it and you pull him close to you by that necklace, kissing him. He lets out a groan as you stroke him faster and rub your thumb on the head.

“Don’t close those pretty eyes, baby. I want you to watch me.” You tell him as you lower yourself down. His eyes are locked onto every bit of movement you have and when you flick your tongue his eyes seem to glaze over in bliss.

You then proceed to take him further in your mouth, still watching him and he was biting his lips hard trying not to be loud. You were enjoying that he was at your whim of not making noise.

You open your throat and sink lower and you hear him grunt as he takes a hold of your head. “Fuck your mouth feels so good, now I’m going to fuck this pretty little throat of yours, Hollywood.” And just as promised he starts guiding your head up and you feel a gag coming but you let it because that will make your throat tighten.

Eddie’s eyes rolls back as well as his head falling back as he whimpers how good your throat is. You move his hands and you come up for air, letting his cum and spit drip from your lips.

“Mmm you do like it nasty.” He runs his thumb across your bottom lip and you smile at him. “Kiss me.” He smiles back at you and he does just that. He kisses you and he sucks your tongue tasting himself on you. You push him back and go back to sucking him off and he bucks his hips and fucks your mouth vigorously.

“H..Hollywood, Olivia, stop!” He hisses as he pulls you off of his dick. “What’s the matter?” You say innocently as you look at his pulsing dick. “I don’t want to cum in your mouth this time. Come here.” He helps you up off of your knees and he holds you close.

“This pretty mouth is dangerous, you know that right?” Eddie says giving your lips a few pecks. “If you think my mouth is dangerous, just imagine how my pussy will be wrapped around this dick of yours, pretty boy.”

He leans you back towards your bed as he kisses you leaving trails of licks along the way. Once you’re on your back Eddie looks back and grabs his pants. You see him pull out the condom and you position yourself better so you’re in the center of your bed.

Eddie climbs up and he spreads your legs, looking down at your pussy and he leans down and licks the hood of your clit which makes you moan louder than you expected. You slap your hand over your mouth and he gives you a wicked smile.

“Careful there Hollywood. Someone might hear you.” He kisses your pussy lips and then he leans up and rips the condom open with his teeth.

You watch as he rolls the condom on from tip to base and you then look at his body. He had tattoos in various places that reminded you of your notebooks from college.

You were about to ask about them but stop when you cover your mouth as his dick head parted your pussy.

Eddie’s mouth opens as he rolls his hips into you and you place your hand on his lower stomach. “Fuck, you’re tight, Olivia.” He moans your name and he puts his full weight on top of you. “Oh god this feel so good.” You whisper as he rolls his hips again.

He takes your legs and puts one on his shoulder while he pushes the other back by your ear. You rub your clit while in this position and your eyes roll back.

Your walls tighten around him and he lets out a whimper. “C…careful pretty boy. S..someone might hear.” You comment. He narrows his eyes at you and he slams into you causing you to clamp your lips shut as you swallow a moan.

“What’s wrong Hollywood? Too much for you?” He moves out of your pussy and slams back in again. “Eddie…” You bring your arms around his neck and kiss him as he keeps fucking you hard. “Ju…just like that. Please don’t stop.”

The bed lightly shakes as he pounds harder and you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out how good his dick feels inside of you. He lets your legs go and he does deep slow strokes as his thumb finds your clit.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna c-” Eddie kisses your lips as he holds you tight and you cum hard. He whimpers your name along with a few other swears as he cums soon after.

You were both breathing hard from the activity and he had his hands by the sides of your head and he leans back down and pecks your lips once again. “You are right that pretty little pussy is dangerous. Shit.” He slides out of you and you both let out a groan. You watch as he ties off the condom and throws it away in your trash bin.

You make a mental note to throw that away before the family wakes up in the morning.

He lays down besides you and he pulls you close. “I didn’t hurt you did I?” Eddie asks as you cuddle close. “No, but my guts will never be the same.” He laughs at that and takes your hand in his, kissing each of your finger tips. “Where did you park?” You ask pulling the sheets over the both of you. “Just down the street. Don’t worry no one will know I spent the night.” He says as he yawns.

“That’s fine. I had a great time today. Mostly the show and all the extra stuff.” You tell him as you feel yourself getting sleepy. “Is this the extra stuff, Hollywood?” He asks as he pulls you closer to him. “Oh this was the sprinkles on a sundae, pretty boy.” You now yawn and you lean over flicking off your table lamp.

“Good night, Eddie. Sweet dreams.” You whisper as you see he’s already fast asleep. “Good night, Olivia…love you..” He whispers. You feel sleep about to take over but your eyes spring open and you look over at him.

“What?”

#eddie munson x sinclair!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Olivia Sinclair #watsittoyah #stranger things 4 #stranger things #heartbreaker x stranger things #stranger things smut #steddie #steddie smut

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boatzandhoez · 1 year

Text

Bruised Knees

In which it’s 1994, Harry is the star quarterback, and Y/N loves to skate. Somehow, they are in love with each other despite being opposites.

warnings: mentions of cuts and bruises, smut

(6.6k+ words)

Y/N is into the skate scene. She loves going to her local skate park with her board Betty, and doing tricks up and down the ramps. She loves the way the wind slaps her in the face, and how free she feels on her board. She loves the sound of the wheels rolling against concrete, and how metal rings anytime she does a trick involving a ramp of some sort.

Y/N loves wearing baggy clothes, such as oversized jeans and hoodies. She loves her scuffed up Keds, Vans, and the Walkman she carries around with her like it’s a religion.

She loves her two friends Lucy and Matt, who are actually dating. She loves her father, who is fighting prostate cancer, and kicking ass if she has a say. If she isn’t at the skate park she’s at home ready for his beck and call.

Y/N sometimes struggles with admitting she loves her older brother, but she does to an extent. She used to not be able to stand him when he was the captain of the football team in high school. He’s long since graduated and now plays for some university. Y/N doesn’t know, nor does she care to be honest, where exactly it is that he attends.

One thing Y/N loves in this world more than anything is her flower boy, her bubba, her baby cakes, her boyfriend, Harry.

The funny thing about Harry that often throws people off is that he is the complete opposite of her. Most people assumed, or thought that Y/N would end up with a fellow skater, who wore oversized clothes like her, has some tattoos, and piercings, and always wears a beanie, Hell, even Y/N thought that was the case, but one night many many months ago, Y/N bumped into Harry at a party.

She knew of him because he was the current quarterback of the football team at her school, taking her brother's place once he graduated. He’s in the same grade as her as well, so they basically grew up together, but lived two different lives, which pushed them to never really interact despite being in school together for so long. He complimented her outfit, which then she complimented his. From there they struck up a conversation, and ended up going somewhere private to talk for a solid hour before they eventually ended up hooking up.

That one time hookup turned into frequent hookups, which turned into a relationship that has stood the test of time, and all the doubt that surrounded them.

Y/N is currently laying in her room. Her father is over at his girlfriend's house for a few days to give them privacy to spend alone time with each other.

Y/N’s mother and father got a divorce when Y/N’s father was diagnosed with prostate cancer. She hates her mother for leaving her father during a time of need. Her father was becoming too sick for her mother to handle, so she decided to up and leave her father. That’s one reason why Y/N struggles to love her brother. She can’t forgive her brother for taking their mothers side, and living with her. Y/N’s mother is the one person in her life she knows she’ll never have love for again.

Y/N is flipping through a magazine listening to the Beatles, which is one of Y/N’s hidden favorites. Only Harry knows her love for the old icons.

Speaking of Harry, Y/N hears a six tap pattern bang onto her window. Y/N smiles and quickly stands up, knowing for a fact that the pattern is known by one person and one person only, her lover boy.

She shuffles in her oversized jeans and tank top pairing over to her window. She opens the window, allowing her cute little bean that she calls her boyfriend into her room.

“Hi, love.” Harry flings his arms around his girl, and picks her up, spinning her around.

“Hi, baby cakes.” She gives him a big sloppy kiss on his cheek. Harry smiles so big his teeth show, which makes Y/N’s insides warm in a swarm of butterflies.

“I missed you.” Harry pouts, still holding his girl close to his body. “I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

Y/N giggles, digging her face into his neck. She peppers a few kisses. “Baby it’s only been like three hours since we saw each other.”

“That’s far too long.” Harry replies seriously, no if ands or buts in his tone. Y/N loves how much he openly expresses how obsessed he is about her. It makes her obsession with him feel valid.

“Come lay with me, baby cakes. I want to snuggle.” Y/N requests, which Harry quickly agrees to.

Harry signals for Y/N to jump up and wrap her legs around him, which she does. He walks the two of them over to her bed, and falls back onto the mattress.

Y/N yelps, at what should be the expected action, but she can’t lie, it catches her off guard every time he does it.

Harry manages to pull her comforter from under the two of them, and tuck them under its warmth. Harry turns and drapes his legs over Y/N’s hip sighing in contemptment.

Harry basks in his lover’s presence. Harry can’t believe he found someone so perfect. He never expected her out of all people to come into his life, and stir up a storm.

Harry is the quarterback of the football team at his high school. He made varsity his freshman year, which is really hard to do, but Harry found a love for the sport at a young age, and has been playing his heart out ever since.

Harry knew who Y/N was because she was the little sister of his football captain from his freshman and sophomore year. He never paid much attention to her his first two years of high school, or at all really, but that is expected when you run in completely different crowds. Plus, Y/N’s brother never was really enthusiastic whenever he mentioned his sister, which was already a rare topic to bring up.

Harry was a bit of a playboy, getting action here and there. He hasn’t slept with a lot of girls, but he’s slept with good a few from his school which is enough to cause drama.

Y/N came out of nowhere, he saw her at a party, and for some reason that night out of all the nights his focus couldn’t leave her. His obsessive need to gaze at her turned into him getting the balls to go up to her and striking a conversation with the skater. He didn’t know what to talk about, but by a miracle they fell into conversation so easily it almost felt natural. What Harry wasn’t expecting that night was to hook up with the said girl he was talking to, but boy oh boy, did hooking up with her alter his brain chemistry in such a drastic way.

He became highly addicted to her that night, and since then his addiction hasn’t faded, in fact Harry would say it’s only grown.

“You’re so warm.” Harry slurs, smacking his lips together as he closes his eyes and nuzzles into his girlfriend's soft, plushy chest. Harry pets his hand over her hair, and notices a very different texture from the last time he touched it. He opens his eyes and stares in awe at his girl's new do. Her normal, shoulder length 4a texture black curls are now styled in box braids. The part Harry loves the most about her hairstyle is the piece of red threaded into some braids to add a pop of color. Harry’s tummy swirls at the little detail of her adding his favorite color into her hair. “Oh wow! Cherry baby, your hair looks beautiful!”

Harry is sincere with his words. He loves any time she gets a protective style. She always looks so pretty, and Harry loves the little confident boosts she gets with the change. She just glows a little extra with a fresh look, and Harry can’t help but to love it.

“You like?” Y/N runs her hands over her braids. She always loves how enthusiastic her man is whenever she changes her hair. He makes her feel pretty, which is a word she used to never really associate herself with.

“You know I do.” Harry pinches her smiling cheek, and pecs her lips. “You always look so pretty, no matter what, even when you hair is natural, and you have been too lazy to do it, so it all over the place because it’s so big and beautiful and wild, and you insistently call yourself a lion even though I think it’s ridiculous, you still look fucking pretty.”

Y/N doesn’t fight off the smile widening to a sickening width. She felt such a rush from his sweet words. He always knows exactly what to say to make her feel loved. “You’re the best, you know that?” Y/N says as she slings her body onto his more.

“I sure do, and you’re even better.” He says in a low whisper as he stretches his head forward, and kisses her jaw. “You’re all that and a bag of chip babe.”

“Don’t ride my dick too hard now baby cakes.” Y/N teases him. Harry scoffs, and looks at her almost offended. She giggles at her boyfriend’s silly face. He’s trying to look mad, but to her, he looks adorable.

“Don’t act like you don’t like when I ride your dick hard.” Harry playfully slaps Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N’s jaw drops, and she narrows her eyes in staring her boyfriend down, in a split second she grabs the stuffed red teddy bear Harry won her at the fair from behind her, and swings it over, hitting Harry right in the head.

Now it’s Harry who has his jaw dropped in shock. Harry lightly pushes her off of him, and quickly stands up from the bed. “You really want to go there, cherry?” Harry raises his brow in a challenging manner.

“Always.” She smirks. They both quickly arm themselves with a pillow. Their eyes are locked on each other, carefully watching the others movements, ready for the perfect time to attack.

They take slow steps in a circle. Both of them are slightly hunched over. Their senses are on high alert, both not wanting to miss a single movement or sound. Y/N’s heart is rapidly beating from anticipation, she’s awaiting whatever is to come.

Harry takes initiative, and starts to round her bed slowly. Y/N takes a step back, but lifts her pillow in position, ready at any moment to swing. Harry does the same, watching his girl for any attack she might try to make. One thing Harry loves about Y/N is how fiesty, and playful she is. She’s not afraid to get into a wrestling match with him, and go all out or to get her hands dirty, and do things that are deemed unladylike.

Harry nears her, and at the same time, the two lovers swing their pillows at each other, clashing them together. They both breakout in laughter as they hit each other with pillows repeatedly.

Y/N manages to get a hit in on the side of Harry’s head, at the same time Harry hits her in the side by her ribs. Y/N stumbles slightly at how powerful Harry’s hit was. Harry is naturally heavy handed from playing football his whole life. Even when he is trying to be gentle, there is still power behind his swings.

Y/N doesn’t mind at all, she is obsessed with how heavy handed he is. He always grabs her body so tight when they have sex, that there are sometimes indents. She loves staring at them whenever she gets the pleasure of having them littered all over her body. She loves how he takes control, basically manhandling her when they have sex.

Y/N twists her body so now the back of her legs are now facing the bed. The two of them are still attacking each other with their pillows. Another step back, and Y/N is tumbling backwards with a yelp. She shoots her hands down to catch herself. She falls with a bounce as she lets out a grunt. Harry takes the opportunity to jump on top, and straddle her waist. He is lightly hitting her with the pillow, and she is doing her best to defend herself from the hits.

They are stuck in a laughing fit, which oftentimes they find themselves in. They both know how to get the other one to laugh so effortlessly.

Harry has now stopped hitting her, and is now leaning forward to bury his head into her neck as he laughs. He gets a whiff of her familiar scent that drives him wild. Cocoa butter and vanilla has quickly become one of his favorite scents.

He’s even gone as far as to buy some candles that smell similar, which he lights in his room every night like a love sick fool.

Harry’s just properly obsessed with the skater. He loves her rich deep chocolate skin that’s always smooth, even when it’s littered in scrapes and bruises it’s still supple and soft.

He loves her caring eyes, and radiant smile that shoots volts of love up straight to his heart, making it speed up.

God, he’s in love.

“Fuck…baby cakes, I-I can’t breathe.” Y/N struggles to say between her laughs. She’s trying her best to regain her composure since the laughs are now cramping up her stomach, causing a sharp pain to spread every time she giggles.

Harry rolls off of her, and plops down flat on the bed. The pair slowly calm down from their laughing fit. “Fuck, that was good.” Harry sighs out once he has fully settled.

“Sure was.” Y/N smiles, blindly reaching out to lace her fingers with her love. They both love physical touch. There is something about the heat of their skins so close together that makes them feel so full and whole. Sometimes a touch for them speaks more volume than words. It’s an unspoken action that tells them they are there for each other, no matter what.

Harry pulls the skater towards him. He grabs her chin softly, and twists her face to look at him dead in the eyes.

Harry leans forward, and teasingly brushes his lips over hers. The quick action shifts the entire aura of the room. The once playful environment is now ten degrees hotter, bubbling with lust.

Y/N chases Harry’s lips, and kisses him in a slow, heated frenzy. They moan into each other's mouths. Harry takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, and licks up the length of her tongue as their mouths connect.

Y/N’s eyes practically roll to the back of her head. She lets out a strong puff of air through her nose, as she feels herself becoming worked up. “Baby.” Y/N can’t help but gasp as the back of her neck starts to feel warm. Her skin is becoming more alert and sensitive. Her hand which is still laced with his is starting to feel prickly.

Harry hums, satisfied by her gasp of pleasure. Harry loves making Y/N feel good. He loves spending his time in her room between her thighs, licking her pussy into a mind shattering orgasm. Sometimes if he’s feeling especially ravenous, he’ll bring her to multiple orgasms just by his mouth.

He loves her pussy. It’s so soft and pretty. Harry never understands when his teammates talk about how pussy’s are confusing, and sometimes annoying to navigate.

Harry thinks if guys just took a few seconds to find the clit when they have sex, then he’s sure they would have less of a struggle.

Harry untangles his fingers with his girl, and grabs each side of her face, pulling her closer to him. Y/N takes this as an opportunity to lift one of her legs up to straddle Harry’s lap.

As soon as her knees meet the bed, she puts all her weight on them. Instantly, Y/N breaks away from the kiss. “Fuck!” Y/N hisses in pain rolling off of Harry, back onto the side.

“What’s wrong?” Harry is quick to sit up to help assess the problem.

“My knees, I forgot I bruised them doing a trick last night at the park. Fuck, they hurt.” She explains, but ends up giggling at how silly she sounds. Harry joins in with her as well.

One guaranteed thing about Y/N is that most of the time she has bruised knees. She gets them from falling off her board. It’s not that Y/N is a bad skater and can’t stay on her board for the life of her because that is completely false. Y/N is a very daring person who loves to try out new tricks all the time. Trying out new things leads to injuries because she doesn’t know the best way to execute the trick yet.

No matter how many times Y/N falls, she gets back up and tries again until she can do it completely on her own, and have it practically mastered.

Harry adores it, and has been blessed with plenty of front row seats to Y/N in the zone, trying out a new trick, and he has seen her wipe out plenty of times. His heart sinks each time his love falls and gets hurt, but he knows she’s strong, and will be okay in the end.

“Awe, are you okay cherry baby?” Harry asks half seriously, half teasingly. He begins to crawl over her. His hands are planted on either side of his head. The cross necklace he wears on the daily dangling over her face which has her clenching her legs.

“Yes, I'm fine.” Y/N rolls her eyes. “I’m annoyed though.” Y/N mumbles crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

Harry tilts his head to the side. “Why’s that?”

“Because I wanted to ride you, but my stupid fucking bruises got in the way…...again.” She pouts. Harry can’t stop the smile spreading on his face.

Y/N likes being on top sometimes. She loves bouncing on top of him as her boobs jump up and down with her movements. She loves looking down and seeing Harry’s face engrossed in her. She especially loves when Harry smacks her ass, demanding her to ride him faster. That’s fucking hot. Unfortunately for her, it doesn’t happen that often because she always has some type of bruise on her knees.

“Love, just accept that you’re my pillow princess.” Harry wiggles his brows. “You know I love making you feel good too, don’t deny it.”

“I know you do.” Y/N sighs. “Don’t worry, I love it, but sometimes baby cakes, I just wanna ride you.”

“And don’t worry.” Harry leans down to kiss her forehead. “Your bruises will stop being so tender, and then you can, and I can’t wait.”

Y/N and Harry are very comfortable with each other. While talking about sex so casually might be weird for some people, it’s just how it is for the pair. They are never afraid to express their desires or simply just talk about it.

Y/N grins, and hooks her finger around her chain, and pulls him down. “Come here.” She purrs and connects their lips together.

Harry smiles into the kiss, and indulges in her plush lips. Y/N’s unoccupied hand runs down Harry’s chest, abs, stopping at the band of his sweats. Harry’s stomach twitches from her delicate touch. Harry feels his cock swelling in his boxers making him grow needy for his lover.

Harry grinds down against Y/N’s clothed pussy, and the two of them whimper at the same time. They always tend to be in sync with most things they do.

Y/N wraps her legs around Harry’s waist and pulls him down to be closer to her. She rolls her hips upwards to create a more heated friction between them.

Harry grunts into her mouth. He’s beginning to feel animalistic, primal, and hungry for his lover. She’s just so delectable it’s impossible to not become a mad man for her.

Harry can’t comprehend how he went so long without ever simply saying a word to her. She’s the dictionary definition of perfection, and Harry can’t help but feel smug that he got the best girl in the world to be his.

They continue to dry hump, and make out with each other. It’s always difficult for them to break away from kissing. Their lips just melt together into a perfect mix. Ruining it would just be borderline offensive.

Y/N’s hands scratch down Harry’s back, and up the sides of his torso. Her hands travel back down, and she tugs at the waistband of his pants.

“You want them off, love?” Harry mumbles against her lip. Y/N whimpers, and nods, desperate to have the constricting fabric out of the way.

Harry leans up on his hands, and works his pants down his legs. Y/N does the same with her jeans. She works the buckle of her black belt out of the loop, and undoes the buckle.

She pops the button on her pants, and hovers her body off the bed, under Harry as she kicks the fabric off of her legs. She quickly falls back down onto her bed with a squeak. Harry comes down, and latches his mouth onto her neck, and begins to nibble on her skin before sucking a red bruise on her skin.

“H, shit, you’re going to leave a mark.” Y/N’s nails dig into Harry’s tattooed covered arm. She is extremely obsessed with the permanent pieces of art all over his body. He looks so hot when he fucks her brains out. She’s trying to convince him to get hand tattoos. If he got some hand tattoos, Y/N thinks she would faint from how sexy he would look.

She would want to be manhandled by him, she would want Harry to fully slut her out in the most vile ways possible. Fuck, Y/N wants that regardless, but Harry with a hand tattoo, chefs kiss in her mind.

Y/N sometimes thinks that people would be completely shocked if they knew what Y/N was like around her man. Most people see Y/N as a very dominant tomboy. Hell, some people were convinced Y/N was a lesbian, not saying she wouldn’t be opposed to eating pussy, but she loves dick, especially Harry’s.

Harry is a very dominant man, and Y/N is basically his pillow princess. At least that's what he calls her when he’s teasing her. Y/N secretly likes it because it’s true, she is his pillow princess, but she would never admit that to him.

“That’s the point.” Harry mumbles, settling his lips on a new part of her untouched neck. “Want you covered in my love bruises, don’t you want that cherry?” Fuck, the way he talks to her has her knees ready to fold at any moment.

Y/N pathetically nods her head. “Yes.” This man can make her fold at any given moment, it should be scary. Harry hums, and continues his attack on her neck. Y/N is becoming restless, she wants Harry to take her. She wants to feel the stretch of his cock pounding in and out of her as he calls her dirty names. She wants to be to feel her tits jiggle from how hard Harry will no doubt fuck her.

She wraps her legs around his waist again, and tries to pull him down. She needs some attention to her pussy now, or she’ll go crazy. “Please, H.”

Harry complies, and sinks his bulge into Y/N clothes pussy. She can feel how hard he is. She loves it. Y/N circles her hips to create a pattern of friction on her clit. “So desperate, love.” Harry tsks, as he bites down on her bottom lip, and pulls back, letting his teeth scrape along her skin.

“I want you.” She whines, her clit is starting to feel prickly from how turned on she’s becoming. Having her man so close yet so far is driving her mad. She claws for him to be closer to her. Harry smirks, latching his lips onto the underside of his girl's jaw, and giving it a soft suckle. Y/N nails dig into Harry’s arm as a chill spreads over her entire mouth and neck. Harry knows that spot is sensitive for her, and he loves feeling, seeing, and hearing her little reactions when he gives that spit attention.

“So sexy, love.” Harry purrs into her ears. He brushes her braids off her shoulder, so now they are splayed out on the bed. “Always so receptive to my touch. I’m obsessed.” Harry nips at her jaw, but never stops to suck on a patch. Y/N likes the quick little touches on her neck, over having Harry sit there a suck a hickey onto the expanse of her skin.

Don’t get her wrong, she loves a good hickey, but there is something about quick, sharp bites that has Y/N’s head stuck in a fog of need. “Just like that.” Y/N’s eyes fall shut, she focuses purely on the feeling of Harry on her body. His hands are smoothing up and down her sides, manhandling her skin.

“Baby loves when I bite her, yeah?” Harry bites particularly hard on Y/N’s sweet spot. Her back arches, and toes curl from the delicious sting wrapping around her neck. “Look at you, fucking dripping I bet.”

“Why don’t you check and see?” Y/N suggests in a single breath. She wants him to touch her so badly.

“You’d like that, huh? Me touching your aching pussy?” Harry teases his girl. He watches Y/N pout, and huff. She pretends to be annoyed or hate when he pulls at her heels a little, but in reality, her body shivers, and her pussy throbs when he talks to her like this. “Don’t pout.” Harry grips her jaw in one of his big, manly, strong hands. “You love it when I talk to you this way. The slut in you feeds off being berated.”

He’s right, so fucking right. She does love it, and that’s why she loves him because he knows her through and through. They were definitely made for each other. Y/N knows it’s the truth deep down in the pit of her soul. She feels the endless thread that attaches her heart to Harry’s. She knows he’s her forever, whether people like it or not.

“Touch me, please.” Y/N begs. Her cheeky red underwear which is still on is completely soaked. Harry smiles, and admires all the little nick marks decorating her neck. These marks will be gone by tomorrow, but Harry is more than satisfied with seeing them as they fuck.

“Awe.” Harry coos, blowing air into her ear. Y/N jolts in shock. Her ear tickles from the intrusion. “As you wish, my love.” Harry’s hand glides down, and grips Y/N’s underwear in his hand. He pulls the flimsy fabric down her legs, and throws them behind him, paying no mind to where they land.

Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head as her lover's hand slides down her sticky slit, collecting a glob of her clear, stringy arousal, and circling it on the head of her clit. “H…baby.” Y/N brings one of her hands up to grip the back of Harry’s neck. Her legs already feel like jello, she quickly melting into a puddle. She subconsciously opens her legs wider, to give Harry more access to her pussy.

His fingers slip down to her entrance, and push two fingers into her. Y/N’s head is thrown back, her mouth drops open and a chorus of moans spill from her mouth.

“I don’t even need to finger you baby. If I wanted to, I could slam my cock right into you, and your pussy would stretch immediately to fit me because your pussy was made for me.” Harry curls his fingers up, hitting the squishy little pad deep inside her.

Y/N’s legs tremble, her belly starts to feel full with butterflies. She rolls her hips to meet his thrusts. His words spark all her nerve endings. She can hear how sloppy and wet her pussy is. She already knows what Harry is trying to do, she knows it all too well.

“H!” Y/N gasps, she feels her walls tightening around Harry’s fingers. Her hips are rolling involuntarily as she rides the sensation from Harry’s attack.

Harry places his thumb onto the head of her clit, and begins to circle the sensitive numb. “Look at you love, already so close.” Harry leans down to smother Y/N’s lips with his own. He pries her mouth open with his tongue, and gives her body all the attention it can possibly receive.

Fingers in her pussy, his thumb giving attention to her clit, his other hand occupies itself, twisting her nipples into hard, irritated peaks. His mouth covering hers, tongues clashing together, moans forming into one. It’s all perfect in Y/N’s eyes. She doesn’t want to leave this moment behind. Not for a second.

Y/N is caught off guard when she feels Harry’s lips leave hers, and move to her knees. He presses his puckered lips into each of her knees. “Poor, baby, your knees really are bruised.” He peppers a few more kisses on each knee. Y/N breaks out into a gentle smile in the midst of her belly coiling into a tight knot. “Look at you, so pretty for me, always.” He strokes her cheek, and uses his thumb to pull her bottom lip down. “You gonna cum for me, love?”

She moans, his finger continues to hit the spongy flesh, which is swelling up inside of her throbbing pussy, ready to burst at any given moment. His fingers are aggravating it, almost egging it on to explode. “Yes!” Y/N moans in a response. Her body is gearing up, ready for the moment when her orgasm is going to tip over.

Harry adds a third finger, and speeds up his thrusts. His arm is starting to cramp, but he refuses to stop. His love is so close, he knows her body like the back of his hand from how many times they’ve fucked over the course of their relationship.

Harry is well aware that when Y/N’s pussy starts to clamp down on his fingers, trying to force them to fall out, she is close to an orgasm. He loves to make his love cum as many times as her body can take it. Usually it’s two times. Once with either his fingers, or Harry’s personal favorite is mouth, and then one from his cock.

He loves how her breathing changes as she’s approaching the end. She doesn’t moan too loud, it’s more of an organic, softer moan, and when she’s close, her moans get louder. All of her telltale signs are there. “Yeah? Gonna make a mess on my fingers. Your pussy is sopping wet, my fingers are sliding in you so easily, cherry.”

He watches the skater's chest shake as a response to his words. Her body is always so receptive to his touch. She’s not afraid to show it either, she loves showing Harry just how she feels. Harry adores her for that. She always pumps his ego up everytime they have sex. She’s so reactive to everything he does.

Harry brushes his own clothed cock over her leg, needing some relief. She is so beautiful, Harry could cum by looking at her.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Y/N chants. Harry notices her back starting to arch off the bed. Her legs tense around his body. Harry knows she’s going to cum, and she does too.

Harry increases the speed of his thrust. The three fingers buried inside her pussy begin to slip out of her warm walls, from the force of her impending orgasm.

“Give it to me.” Harry growls. The arousal on his fingers, slowly trickles down his hands, leaving a mess. Harry pushes in and out a few more times, before Y/N’s moans are loud and clear. He can feel the bite of her nails that are dug into the back of his neck. “Cum on my hand, baby. Make a mess for me.”

A few more thrusts, and Harry’s fingers slip out of her pussy, and he moves them up to her clit, and vigorously runs them over the bud. He watches her pussy clench, before she spills white, creamy, cum from her pussy, along with a gush of clear liquid. His fingers were harsh and didn’t let up. More cream dribbles out of her pussy, down her ass crease. Her legs tremble and jolt, in shock of her orgasm.

Harry slows down his movements, until he comes to a complete stop. He slips his cum covered fingers into his mouth, tasting his love. “Mmmm, so sweet, like you always are.” Harry twists his body to dig into her bedside table, and grabs a condom out of a box, which he put in there for whenever he was over at her place.

Harry shoves his boxers off his legs. His cock springs free with a bounce. The head of his cock is red, and angry. He’s starving to feel her. He opens the packet, and pulls out the slippery rubber. He lines the condom up to his tip, as he’s done many times before, and rolls it down the length of his cock.

He lines his cock up with her creamy entrance, and in one fluid thrust, he fills her up completely. Y/N chokes, and starts to sputter nonsense from the unexpected intrusion. “Jesus baby, my cocks already got you this dumb, and I only just pushed inside of you.” Harry clicks his tongue, and shakes his head.

Y/N wraps her legs around his waist. Everytime they fuck it feels cosmic. Their bodies meld to each other like a perfect puzzle. They know one another like the back of their hand. Harry was right about Y/N’s pussy immediately stretching to accommodate his length. Her pussy is firm around his cock, keeping a good squeeze.

He pounds into his love at a fervor pace. His hips swivel and roll into her. Y/N looks disheveled below him. Her edges are starting to frizz slightly, and her skin is glistening. Harry's face is no doubt flushed red, and the curls hanging over his forehead are starting to stick to his skin from how sweaty he’s becoming.

“This pussy is perfect, fuck!” Harry snaps his hip forward. His body now is up right, tugging one of Y/N’s legs to drape over his shoulder, whilst her other leg hangs loosely around his waist.

“You fuck me so good.” She croaks out. Her nails are gripping her blanket under her for dear life as Harry pumps himself in and out of her. Y/N’s breath hitches as Harry changes the angle of his thrusts. His cock fills her pussy up, stretching her walls. He drives into her at a violent pace. Harry’s balls hit Y/N’s ass with each thrust, causing her boobs to jump up and down.

Harry holds Y/N’s leg tight to his body. He stares down at his love as he slips a hand down between the two of them, giving her clit attention once again. Y/N body erupts in goosebumps. Her body is feeling warm and electric.

“No shit I fuck you good.” Harry spits, speeding up his pace. “Your body can’t stop shaking, baby. I know you’re getting close again.” Harry is pushing Y/N over the edge. She feels her pussy flutter, readying up for her incoming orgasm.

Harry is circling her clit in an addictive pattern. He applies just the right amount of pressure to make her quickly near her end. “You’re going to make me cum, H.” She warns him, making sure to jut out her bottom lip.

All of Harry’s blood rushes to his cock. Her innocent delivery of her filthy words does a number on Harry and his head. Harry grabs each of Y/N’s legs at the bend of her knee. He spreads her legs apart, and holds them in place. “Taking me so well. Your pussy’s perfect.”

Y/N belly is starting to feel full, and tight. The tips of her ears feel like they are on fire. She knows she is going to cum at any moment. “H, I’m really…fucking…close.” She rasps between thrusts. She’s spilling breathy moans from her mouth as Harry pounds into her.

Harry is starting to feel his own orgasm approaching. His muscles are tightening, his balls feel heavy, and his cock is starting to spasm inside of her.

Y/N squirms from her body feeling restless. Harry watches his lover, as she shuts her eyes, and throws her head back. Her back is starting to arch, and Harry can feel her walls slowly clenching around him. “H…” She warns in a whine.

“I know baby, fuck me too, let go, love, fucking cream all over me.” Only a few more thrusts, and the two lovers are cumming together. Harry throws his head back, tilting his face up to the ceiling. Y/N’s back fully, arches off the bed. Harry spills strings of his cum into the condom, while Y/N’s pussy convulsions and contracts around, no doubt leaking more cream.

Harry slows his thrust down, helping them ride out their orgasms. Once the two of them have both fully settled, Harry pulls out of her, and removes the condom from his length. He ties it in a knot, and makes his way over to her bathroom to throw the condom away. While in the bathroom, he grabs a washcloth and wets it before heading back out.

Y/N is laying on the bed. Her legs are straight out infront of her, and her hands are resting on her belly. “Open up.” Harry taps Y/N’s thigh to get her to spread her legs apart. She complies and does as he asks.

Y/N hisses, to which Harry leans down, and presses a kiss to the top of her thigh. “I know, love.” Harry murmurs, keeping his attention focused on what is in front of him.

“Hey, Harry?” He hears the skater call for him.

“What’s up baby?” He asks, folding, and setting the washcloth to the side. He crawls back onto the bed, and lays himself next to her, with his elbow propped up, and his head resting in the palm of his hand.

Y/N scoots her body to press herself close to Harry. Harry wraps an arm around her back, and cuddles her close. “You want to take a nap and then go to the skate park after with me?”

Harry smiles, already in love with the idea. “Yeah, sounds like a plan cherry.” The two of them quickly fall asleep after, holding each other close, never intending to let go.

#harry #harry au #harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #football!harry #skater!y/n #smut #love #90s #football!harryxskater!y/n

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