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strangemagicc · 22 days

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Nobody Has to Know | Chapter Two

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pairings: modern!brother’s best friend!Eddie x fem!Reader

summary: the next morning Eddie is adamant about ignoring you but that only lasts so long

author’s note: I think this is the longest chapter for anything I’ve ever written and I enjoyed writing it so much. There’s just something about Eddie lately. I hope you enjoy sweetness because next chapter will be a little sour 🖤 comments/reblogs and feedback is always so appreciated ! I want to hear from you 🫶🏻

w/c: 9.4k

warnings: cheating (technically not reader or Eddie), smut - oral (reader and Eddie receiving), fingering, discussions of trauma/injuries relating to a car accident

“Oh shit!”

Eddie could hear your worry as he rounded the corner. His heavy boots loud against the plastic tiled floor catching your attention.

The fear was vibrant in your eyes when you turned to him, a quiet cry for help and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.

The kettle in the popcorn machine was overfilled, smoke billowing from behind the glass doors as you stared in horror.

Charred pieces of popcorn fell into the vat, the burnt smell wafted around you and filled the air.

“Way to go Little Lipton,” he laughed and moved around you to turn off the machine.

“Alright,” he sighed heavily, “this one is going to be out of commission for a bit so we’ll need to make sure that one is always prepped with fresh kernels,” he tilted his chin to the only other popcorn machine and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

“Out of commission?” Your voice rose an octave, face twisted in horror. His words raising alarm.

“Yeah,” he laughed as though his next words were obvious.

“We have to clean this one before we use it or all the other batches are going to taste like shit and that’s not the easiest or fastest task.”

“He’s going to kill me,” you groaned and dropped your head.

He being your manager and a major pain in your ass since the day you started working here. He wanted things a certain way; candies lined in a specific direction, cups displayed for the customers to see, popcorn made to perfection and not burnt until it turned to dust.

“Probably not kill, just maim,” Eddie shrugged with a crooked grin and stared down at you with amusement as you collected your thoughts.

“You never told me what to do if I burnt the kernels,” you abruptly looked up at him and swatted at his arm playfully.

“That’s because I told you not to overfill the kettle and never thought you’d ignore that tidbit,” he sighed dramatically, “guess that’s what I get for thinking.”

Reflexively he moved out of arm’s reach before you could do any serious damage.

Eddie enjoyed the way your lower lip jutted out, the way your forehead creased between your eyebrows when you were mad and fuck, were you pissed.

It had been nearly two weeks since you started working at Hawk Theater, trying to save up for the new camcorder you’d been eying, and Eddie had been assigned to train you.

Or his form of training which was a lot of “this is how they want us to do it but this is what works.”

The problem was that you’d been distracted.

It was the way his smile lifted to the side and the way he tied his long curls into a messy ponytail. And sometimes, the sun would shine through the glass and hit his eyes just right, making them look like molten honey.

You couldn’t help the nervous flutters that sprung when he was near, your childhood crush resurfacing with teeth and taking hold of you.

It made it hard to listen, to remember the instructions he told you like not to fill the kernels past the very obvious line or else.

He never expounded on the or else but negative consequences were heavily implied.

“You’re such a jerk,” you rebutted but the venom fell flat, the insult sounding endearing to Eddie’s ears.

“You already knew I was, sweetheart. Don’t know why you expected anything different now that you work with me,” he began cleaning out the popcorn machine. Dumping the burnt kernels into the trash can before adding the cleaning solution to the kettle.

Your heart was still fluttering, replaying the single pet name over and over again.

“Guess that’s what I get for thinking,” you mimicked him and began helping him clean so the two of you would be ready for opening in thirty minutes.

Eddie watched you from the corner of his eye, the way your gaze was lit with mischief as you teased him and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Are you two trying to set this place on fire?” Mark Huntzberger, the manager, bellowed as he came down the stairs from his office eyeing the mess you had made.

He descended with a stern, critical eye that shifted over the concessions stand and back to you.

You couldn’t help the way you shrank under his scrutiny.

“I know this may just be some summer job to you, girl, but this is my livelihood. If you can’t get it together by the end of the week I will make sure this one fires you.” He turned his attention to Eddie whose face had gone flat, eyebrows set in a straight line. Jaw tensed.

“It was an honest mistake,” Eddie interjected.

“Clean it up,” Huntzberger ordered and disappeared into the ticket booth.

“Why did I think this was going to be easy or fun?” You questioned more to yourself than to Eddie, shoulders tensed.

You tied the trash bag containing the kernels and pulled it from the can.

“Because the town fuck up works here, how hard can it be?” He nudged you with a wink.

“Move over, Eddie. Someone’s about to take your place,” you giggled and walked towards the exit doors that led to the alley behind the cinema.

“Don’t do that, it’s the only thing I got going for me,” his grin grew wider as he followed behind you.

He was all self-deprecation all the time and you began to wonder how much of it he really believed. A pang of sadness twisted in your gut.

The summer air was suffocating with its humidity and the stench of spoiled food wafting from the dumpsters.

You began to lift the bag over your head when Eddie took it from you and hoisted it in the metal canister.

“Y’know it’s not true, Ed’s,” you began, looking up at him. Eyes squinted from the intensity of the sun.

“What’s not?” He questioned, leaning against the brick wall that hid the dumpsters from the rest of the alley.

“That you don’t have anything else going for you,” you cleared your throat, “you have lots of talents-“

“Ah, yes, I am known for my natural ability to annoy and antagonize,” he interrupted and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m being serious! I mean, I don’t know many people who can learn a new song on the guitar half as fast as you. Didn’t you learn Master of Puppets in like a week?”

You remembered that?

“And what about all the stuff you know about cars? Or the random tidbits about pop culture and music? You’re like an encyclopedia britannica,” you continued.

“For all things useless,” he corrected and you poked his side causing him to flinch away from your touch.

“I mean it!” You insisted, eyes wide. Endearing. The same look you got when you were excited about something and Eddie laughed, ears turning a shade of red from the attention you gave him.

“You’re just trying to flatter me so I don’t fire you,” he joked and you continued to look up at him with a dramatic bat of your eyes, inching closer.

“Is it working?” You retorted, exaggerating the breathiness of your voice.

“Flattery always works with me, sweetheart,” he winked and turned back to the building.

There it was again.

Your heart stopped, skipped, and started again as you willed your legs to move. You watched his retreating frame, eyes boring into the back of his head.

“You coming?” He didn’t stop walking and you took wide steps to catch up with him, walking in stride back to the theater.

Before you went back through the door you grabbed his arm, eyes pouring with sincerity.

“I meant what I said, Eds,” he looked at you with a questioning perk of his eyebrow.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” you swallowed hard and squeezed his arm before pulling open the door, the cold cinema air greeting you.

Eddie watched your retreating frame for a moment, a little taken aback, before following you to the concession stand.

The two of you fell into an easy silence as you worked.

You wiped the counters and finished cleaning the popcorn maker as instructed by Eddie while he set up the rope dividers in between each register, making sure things were organized just as Mark liked before the doors opened.

You were ready for the day; doors unlocked and fresh edible popcorn ready for the masses. A mass of moviegoers already lined up at the ticket booth.

The two of you rested against the counter waiting for the first customer to approach when he leaned over to you, warm breath fanning your ear.

“Thanks, (Y/N).”

It was the first time he said your name. Acknowledged you as something other than Little Lipton.

The first time Eddie saw you as more than just his best friend’s little sister.

Eddie clamored into his trailer, heavy boots dragging across the worn carpet as he trudged to the kitchen and swung open the fridge, grabbing a six-pack that was nearly gone.

He spread out on the couch and chugged one can before reaching for another, eyes darting around his home. Eddie had it to himself for the week, Uncle Wayne out on another cross-country drop-off, and now the silence engulfed him.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly as the seconds passed and his thoughts clashed with each other.

Eddie tried to keep his attention on the TV as you entered the room for the fourth time that afternoon and Rick shook his head.

“Dude, I think my sister might like you,” your brother laughed as you disappeared back into your room.

Eddie scoffed at his words but the thrum of his heart would’ve given him away if Rick could hear it.

“I’d never date your sister,” Eddie nudged his arm against Rick’s, eyes trained on the video game as he sniped an enemy target.

“Like I’d let you,” he chuckled.

Eddie’s brow twisted in confusion and it wasn’t lost on Rick when he turned to him to emphasize his point.

“Oh come on, I love you man but there’s no way in hell I’d let my sister date a guy like you.”

Eddie chuckled along with Rick to conceal the sting of his friend’s words

He knew all the things that people didn’t like about him. His hair, his tattoos. The bad reputation he’d more than earned but to hear it from his best friend made it sting more.

He wondered if you saw him that way; a loser with no future. Just the town freak and he promised he’d never put himself out there to know.

Eddie pressed his palm to his eye, Rick’s words reverberated off his skull as he grappled with the feelings he’d long ignored.

The feelings that had sprouted and made a home of him since the summer he worked with you.

Eddie could still feel your lips against his, the electricity that hummed in his veins and he wished it had lasted a moment longer.

He made a mistake, a huge mistake, and winced every time he thought about the look on your face when he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

Eddie knew if it went further you’d only regret it once the sun came up and you’d sobered up. Once the realization hit that you’d slept with the pariah of Hawkins and he couldn’t live with you seeing him that way, with you regretting him.

Not when he already saw it in so many eyes around town.

He wasn’t exactly someone you could take home, someone you could brag about or show off a picture of. He knew that much, had been told that much so he accepted it to be true.

When girls got with Eddie they expected fun, they expected drugs, and a quick hookup.

Some of them never talked to him again, pretended they didn’t know him when they ran into him and others told him that being with him made them realize they’d hit rock bottom.

God, he couldn’t handle you telling him that he was your rock bottom.

Eddie decided it was better to ignore it, to ignore you. Better to pretend it didn’t happen despite the way he felt to spare himself from the regret he knew you’d feel.

It was a rainy day, fat drops bouncing off the windshield as your father drove. Faster than usual. In a hurry but you didn’t know where to.

The air conditioner was off creating a layer of condensation on the windows, making your legs stick to the leather seats of your family’s beat-up station wagon.

You drew butterflies on the glass, finger tracing against the cool pane. Grin wide as your drawings exposed the gray of the sky, the way the dark clouds rolled against its expanse.

The low hum of Strawberry Fields Forever played over the radio but your parent’s voices were louder.

Angrier.

Your mom sniffled and you leaned up in your seat to see if she was crying, the length of her hair concealing her face from view.

“Mama,” you pushed against her seat with your sneakered foot but she didn’t respond.

“Jude, please pull over. I can drive.” Your mom insisted, tugging at your father’s arm but he shoved her off.

You unbuckled your seat belt and pulled at your mom’s shirt trying to get her attention.

“Mom.”

But your voice was cut off, muffled below the volume of the radio as your dad’s hand reached for the dial turning it until your ears rang.

You shrank back into your seat, lower lip jutted as you looked at them. No longer able to understand what your parents were saying, the scene in front of you a mix of gestures and twisted faces leaving you confused.

Your mother pulled on your dad’s arm again and he shoved her off, turning his head to look at her. Mouth wide as he spoke but you still couldn’t understand what he said.

Everything else became a blur of lights and pain.

Endless pain shooting from your leg and throughout your body.

Your cries wracked your body but were silent to your own ears.

The scene around you a mix of broken glass and lifeless eyes.

Then darkness.

You woke in a cold sweat, tank top clinging to your body uncomfortably.

Behind your eyes, your head pounded in a steady rhythm, one that matched the way your heart was racing. Bile began to rise to your throat, the nausea that always accompanied the nightmare.

The sting of your leg a reminder of the accident, of the pain from that day.

You pressed your palms into the skin of your thigh massaging the muscle marred by a thick scar that was a shade lighter than the rest of your flesh.

It ached like it just happened, like you were ten years old again trapped in that car and you groaned trying to bring yourself back to the present. Tried to ground yourself with the distant sound of the coffee maker and the smell of burnt toast.

Slowly you came back to the present, heart settling into a steady rhythm as you glanced around your room.

Sunlight streamed through your sheer curtains in brilliant rays, yellow hues painting your walls and highlighting the dust that danced through the air.

You threw your head back against the pillow, not ready to face the day. Images of the night before flooding your vision.

Simon and Rachel, her mouth pressed to his. The way she smiled up at him, held his hand.

The scene too familiar for a random drunken hook-up.

You pressed your palms into your eyes, rubbing until you saw swirls. Until you were reminded of Eddie’s stunned face as you sat in his lap, hands on his chest. The way he bucked into you.

The way he pushed you back into the passenger seat.

“Fucking idiot,” you groaned with embarrassment, pulling your pillow over your face as you let out a scream.

You stayed concealed under the pillow, contemplating jumping into the lake and disappearing altogether. Not ready to face Simon and Rachel. Or Eddie.

You flailed your body as another wave of embarrassment rolled through you, causing your pillow to fall from your face.

The incessant buzz of your phone caught your attention and you looked at its illuminated face. The screen full of notifications that you could see without grabbing it.

Hesitantly you reached for it, eyes pouring over all the texts.

11:55PM

Simon: Guess you decided not to come tonight?

12:00AM

Simon: helloooo?

12:23AM

Simon: so you’re just going to ignore me now cos I asked you to go out?

Simon: not like we can’t do date night another time, wanted to go have some fun for once

1:03AM

Simon: so you did show up

Simon: you left with MUNSON?

2:30AM

Simon: you’re really just going to ignore me?

2:33AM

Rachel: (Y/N)?

Rachel: Simon is really worried about you

7:49AM

Simon: We need to talk

8:36AM

Rachel: Text me when you’re awake

You swallowed the emotion that arose and wondered if their guilt had kept them awake, if it had eaten at them or settled into their chest. Felt whenever they breathed.

Were they even capable of that?

Slowly you pushed the sheets off the bed and forced your legs over the edge one by one until your feet were planted firmly in the plush carpet, your back still pressed against the mattress. Your phone forgotten, lost somewhere in your bedding.

You willed yourself off the mattress and clamored out your door, mind focused on getting a glass of water to cure your dry mouth.

The throb of your head returned and fuck, why did you drink so much last night?

The smell of burnt toast grew stronger as you stumbled down the hall causing your stomach to twist into knots and you could only assume it was your brother’s fault.

“Is it really that hard to cook toast, Rick?” You complained loudly as you reached for a glass on the top shelf and turned to the sink.

Blissfully unaware that there was a set of eyes on you, watching as you whistled and filled your glass to the brim. Foot tapping to a song that only you could hear.

Eddie watched you, a little petrified like a deer caught in the headlights.

He knew he’d see you, it was your house after all, but he wasn’t prepared for how much he’d see.

His eyes traced over your legs, focusing on the swell of your ass. Watching as you leaned over the sink to get a better view of the lake from the window, exposing just a glimpse of your ass cheeks.

And it’s like you knew what you were doing, knew that he was watching and driving him just a little bit insane.

He swallowed harshly, refocusing his attention back on his breakfast. Doing his best to ignore you like he planned.

“If it isn’t little miss sunshine,” your brother greeted, words dripping with sarcasm.

You turned around to mock him but stopped in your tracks, eyes practically bulging out of your skull when you noticed Eddie and you gripped your cup harder.

Had he been sitting there the whole time?

He quietly nibbled on a piece of bacon. Avoiding your eye contact entirely.

Your embarrassment flared and god, you wanted to crawl into a hole to disappear entirely.

Blinking rapidly, you shifted your gaze from his frame to Rick.

He situated himself at the table, grabbing a plate and shoveling food onto its surface. Eggs, bacon, and the incredibly burnt toast.

“Have work today?”

“Like I do every Saturday,” you shrugged, tone bored and doing your best not to glance at the metalhead out of the corner of your eye.

You took a sip of your water, focusing on the way its cool temperature slipped across your tongue. Focusing on anything else.

“I’m not going to be able to take you to work. Mrs. Wheeler needs me to take a look at her car and then I’m picking up some extra hours at the shop.”

You had yet to overcome your fear of driving, already having a hard time being a passenger in a car.

“Can’t mom take me?” you questioned but Rick’s head was already shaking as you spoke.

“The transmission is acting up in her car, need to look at it,” he stated around a mouth full of food.

“Then how is she getting to work?” You set your cup onto the counter sharper than you intended and folded your arms over your chest.

“She’s not, has one of her headaches again,” he gestured to his own head and shoveled more food into his mouth.

“That’s why I need the overtime and for you to go to work, we need the cash. Next deal isn’t coming in before the light bill is due.”

Your shoulders sagged, the constant stress of bills weighing heavy on you.

“I can just walk or get an uber,” you suggested with a tight smile, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon. The walk wasn’t that long.

“Your uber is already here,” he pointed to Eddie and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head.

Not happening.

“I can just walk,” you reaffirmed quickly causing Eddie’s eyebrow to quirk.

“Why are you acting like such a brat?” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not, just don’t want to make Eddie go out of his way for me.”

You unfolded your arms and gestured absently towards him.

It was mostly true anyway, you didn’t like the idea of returning to the scene of the crime or spending the twenty minutes it would take for him to drive you to work in awkward silence.

“He’s not, stop being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” you scoffed. “Besides I can just ask Simon to give me a ride,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking another bite of bacon. Rick didn’t need to know that you weren’t talking to Simon and definitely wouldn’t be getting a ride from him.

Eddie’s elbow settled against the wooden dining table as he watched you, the way you so easily lied to your brother.

“Jesus, fine, whatever.” Your brother raised his hand up to get you to shut up and chugged his orange juice.

You reached for another piece of bacon but this time off his plate. Rick reached for your hand, shaking the piece out of your grasp, and turned to you, face twisting in disgust when he noticed what you were wearing.

“Go put some clothes on before Eddie gauges his fucking eyes out.” He wiped his mouth and waved a dismissive hand at you, chuckling at his own joke before biting into the piece of bacon that you tried to steal.

Eddie chuckled along with your brother, his pale cheeks blossoming pink and you sneered at him.

“Oh, I’d really hate for him to do that,” your voice dripped with sarcasm as you rolled your eyes and disappeared back down the hall to your room.

You pressed your back against the wooden door, annoyance making a place in your chest and overtaking any embarrassment you’d previously felt.

No, Simon wouldn’t be giving you a ride but neither would Eddie. You’d rather risk showing up a sweaty mess than sit in a car alone with him.

What you hadn’t planned on was for it to start raining. One of Hawkins’ sporadic downpours graced the sky as autumn settled into its foliage.

The maple leaves had already started turning yellow, their brightness a contrast against the gray sky. The air smelled of the evergreens, the sharpness of their leaves mixing with the sweetness of the maple trees.

You took a deep breath as you continued your walk, the road feeling longer in the bad weather.

Your converse trudged through the mud splashing dirt onto the cuffs of your jeans. Your white assistant manager shirt clung to your skin leaving little to the imagination and you crossed your arms over your chest.

There was a small part of you that wished you had just taken the ride but there was a bigger part, the more prideful one, that was glad you hadn’t.

Not after the way he laughed at you, at the thought of even being attracted to you. When you’d just mauled him the night before and this would be the perfect time for lightning to strike you down.

To end your misery, the embarrassment clinging to you once again like your clothes did.

In the distance, you could hear a car approaching and you moved further into the dirt to avoid being hit hoping it wasn’t a creeper or a new serial killer looking for his next victim.

But it was worse.

It was Eddie.

Smiling at you from his rolled-down window, van driving slowly on the road's edge.

“Are you that fucking stubborn?” He asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Go away, Munson.”

You didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Simon a no-show, huh?”

You clicked your teeth, trying to appear nonchalant. Like the words didn’t dig at you.

“Doesn’t appear so.”

His shoulders sagged as you continued to ignore him, deciding to appeal to your sensible side instead.

“You’re going to get sick.”

“So?”

And why did he think you could be sensible?

He groaned and sped up only to stop the car just in front of you to block your path. You stopped in your tracks, listening as he climbed out of the driver’s seat and rounded the car.

“Are we really going to do this again?,” he questioned as he trudged toward you. Boots slamming into the mud. Curls a little wild when he looked at you.

“Do what?” You gave him an innocent smile, eyelashes batting dramatically.

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Just get in the fucking car,” he stated through gritted teeth, his annoyance only making your grin widen.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather gauge your eyes out?” Your voice dropped low, mocking Rick’s tone. You dropped your smile, gaze a little cold as it met his before and you pushed past Eddie.

He threw his head back, face to the sky. Of course, you were pissed about that.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He turned to you, watching as you continued to walk away from him.

“For driving me home last night and making out with me or for laughing at me this morning?” You turned around and began to walk backward, arms lifting from your side. A little tired, a little defeated and you stopped beside his van waiting for his answer. Concealed from the rest of the road.

“Laughing at you,” his voice was earnest, “I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded, his words a salve to that wound but still, there was the mortifying way he pushed you away from him.

Eddie began to walk towards you, drawing closer. The scent of his cologne invading your senses.

“Sure you aren’t sorry about the making out part?” You questioned, eyes trained on his amber gaze as he approached.

He swallowed roughly and debated whether he should be honest and simply shook his head.

You shrugged your shoulders trying to appear flippant, to seem as though his reassurance didn’t affect you the way that it had. Heart hammering wildly, legs a little wobbly because Eddie Munson didn’t regret kissing you.

“Well that’s good, I’m glad neither of us regretted it,” you turned from him, missing the way his gaze lit up at your words. The reassurance that he needed.

“Now you can go on your merry way and pretend that you gave me a ride. I promise I won’t tell my brother that you didn’t.”

His hand was warm against your arm as he spun you to look at him.

Your shoes slid against the wet earth from the force and it was for a brief moment that you saw him before you crashed into the soft mud.

“Fuck-“ your curses were synchronized as you fell and pulled him atop of you, his weight causing you to groan from the sudden impact.

Eddie’s knee was slotted between your legs as he lifted his weight onto his forearms, brown gaze boring into your eyes. An apology on his lips when you began to laugh. Giggles filling the air around you.

You looked at the evidence of your fall, your white shirt was painted brown, ruined, and marred from the mud. Your hair was a mess of dirt that clung to your face.

Eddie was void of any dirt, the only evidence was the mud that soaked through the pants of his jeans and it was a little bit annoying.

Slowly you reached your finger up and slid it across his pale skin with a wide mischievous smile. Chuckling at the way his eyebrows married at your actions, the way his jaw jutted to this side and he shook his head.

“You brat,” he lifted a hand and attempted to copy your actions as you tried to wiggle away. His free hand stilled you, holding you by the waist his he dragged the other across your cheek.

His playful smile mirrored yours.

“You jerk, I have to get to work!” But your tone didn’t match the light in your eyes.

“I don’t think Huntzberger wants you hovering over the popcorn, let alone walking into the building, like this.”

His eyes roamed your body, noticing the way your nipples were pebbled against your shirt. The way your jeans hugged the flare of your hips as you squirmed beneath him.

Your breath hitched as he took you in, chest rising and falling at a quickened pace that wasn’t lost on Eddie.

“How much time do you have before work?” His voice was a little gruff, affected, and it took a moment for you to form a coherent thought.

Your eyes blinked rapidly, hands resting on his chest absently and you cleared your throat.

He lifted off of you and reached a hand to help you up but you pulled him down into the mud beside you.

“You little shit!” Eddie looked at himself, the mud that clung to his jacket and jeans.

“Oops,” you shrugged and leaned out of his way as he threw mud at you.

“I have like two hours,” you laughed, looking at him completely amused.

“How long did you think it was going to take you to walk?” He lay there defeated, chuckle matching yours.

“I don’t know, it was just in case-“

“In case what? You had to fight a pack of wood rats to get through?”

“Shut up,” you shoved his face from yours, mud caking his cheek.

Eddie gasped at the same time you did, realization dawning as he tackled you back into the mud.

It was like the whole world fell around you, ceasing to exist except for you and Eddie. His muddied face hovering above yours, long fingers digging into your sides as you wiggled away from him.

Your giggles filled the air and you pushed at his chest.

“Stop! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears sprang in your eyes as you pushed against his chest, dirt seeping further into your clothes as you lay there at his mercy.

“Say please,” he insisted and you shook your head, hands gripping his shirt,

For a moment he stopped, fingers stilled at your sides and he smiled at you mischievously. Face moving half an inch closer and your smile faltered briefly, gaze darting to his lips and back to his eyes. Their deep brown staring back at you, a light in them you hadn’t seen.

“You don’t regret it?” He questioned, needing reassurance. His breath fanning against your face.

You shook your head already knowing the “it” that he thought you regretted and he leaned closer, his lips a whisper above your own.

Shaky breaths mixing with yours.

Your heart skipped as you anticipated the first touch, your eyes fluttering closed.

Eddie pulled away, slowly. Hesitantly.

“Think we should get you back home,” he looked down at your dirtied clothes and chuckled, face hovering above yours and you tried to hide your disappointment as you nodded in agreement.

He pushed himself off of you wiping his hands along his jeans before stretching out his hand to help you up.

Your palm slid against his, caked dirt pressing against his warm hand and he pulled you against him. Sliding his hands down until they settled on your waist.

His nose traced yours as his fingers dug into your hips and he swallowed hard.

The composure he’d always managed to maintain quickly slipped away.

You tilted your face and ran a hand against his jaw, cupping his chin. Your thumb lazed against his stubbled flesh drawing circles in his skin.

“Fuck it,” Eddie’s lips pushed against yours.

The press of them made you gasp, just as soft as you remembered but more fervent than before.

His tongue pressed at the seam of your lips, swiping against yours when you opened for him.

He was sweet like spearmint and you hummed.

Exhilaration thrummed through you as you pulled him closer, arms wrapping around his neck.

Chest to chest.

Hearts synchronized, each beating at a rapid pace and you wanted the moment to stretch on.

For the kiss to never end.

Thunder cracked in the air and the two of you looked up at the darkened sky just as the rain began to fall.

Eddie looked back at you, dimpled grin wide as the first drop hit his cheek and you yelped when the first drops began to cascade against your cheeks.

He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, enjoying your surprised gasp. The way you instantly melted into his touch.

“Will you please get in the fucking car now?”

You nodded rapidly, your hand slipping into Eddie’s warm palm. Allowing him to pull you towards his van and into the passenger seat.

Your house was silent, the volume of your mother’s television low behind her bedroom door. Rick had long since left, his car missing from your driveway.

Slowly you tiptoed inside and pulled Eddie behind you like a teenager sneaking a random boy in. As though Eddie hadn’t been inside your house a million times before.

You slid the deadbolt into the door and turned to him with a wide grin, making his heart pulse with nervous energy.

His thoughts raced with uncertainty. Insecurity and god, what was he doing in his best friend’s house holding hands with his sister?

What if you didn’t regret it now but you did later?

Because you were bound to.

He was adamant you were.

Your lips made his thoughts dissipate, self-doubt replaced with a need he could no longer ignore. You both kicked off your muddy shoes, their soles landing with a soft thud against the tiled floor.

His smile grew under your kiss as you led him through the house and to the bathroom, legs moving backward as you tugged at his shirt.

Your back hit the wood of the door louder than expected and he broke apart from you, stilling to listen for any movement. His concentrated face made you giggle as you pulled him through and closed the door.

“Scared, Munson?” Your voice was teasing as you pushed him against the wooden frame and reached for the lock beside him. Twisting it until it latched.

Less than shy.

A little needy.

Challenging gaze trained on his as you pushed his leather jacket to the ground, grinning as it landed with a thud.

It was like a game, each of you teasing and feeling like you were about to explode.

He shook his head in response, crooked grin broad as he dipped his head closer to yours. Enjoying the way you leaned towards him instinctively already anticipating the moment his lips would be on yours.

“What was it you said last night?” His voice was gruff, eyebrow twitching up as he waited for your response.

You watched as Eddie traced his fingers up your arm, the warmth of them felt beneath your shirt. His pace was agonizingly slow as he created a trail to your face and rubbed an affectionate thumb against your cheek.

Your mind was swimming, eyes trained on his lips just inches from yours. Loud need surpassing any form of a coherent thought and he enjoyed how you were affected.

How you were a little dumb from just one kiss, from the press of his body against yours.

“Come on pretty girl, I know you remember,” his lips grazed against your cheek settling on the sensitive skin between your ear and your neck.

He pressed a kiss against the sensitive flesh, smiling as he felt your shudder.

“I said,” you swallowed and closed your eyes as he began to suck at your skin. The sensation driving you a little mad.

“Go on,” he instructed, breath warm against your ear.

“Nobody has to know,” your fingers tangled into his curls holding him against you. He hummed against your skin, tongue darting against the spot he just sucked.

“If you don’t want them to,” you finished, relishing the way his teeth grazed against your flesh. The way his warm breath made goose flesh sprout along your arms.

“Is that what you want?” He questioned heart hammering against his ribcage. The same self-doubt sprouting. A little mocking.

“I just want you.” He pulled away to look at you, brown eyes boring into your own. Measuring your sincerity. Not finding a hint of doubt. He swallowed hard and pressed a kiss to your lips, sucking your lower lip between his. The sensation making your toes curl and your hands tangle in his shirt.

It felt like there was electricity in the air, the hair on your arms standing on end as it buzzed around you.

The surface of his tongue dragged against your lip and you slid your own against his, matching his pace. He savored the way you tasted, swallowing your breathy moans as he led you further into the room until your ass pressed into the edge of your sink.

Eddie kissed the edge of your mouth, your jaw, your neck and lifted you to sit on the counter. Your small yelp made him smile against your skin as he pushed your collar aside and began to unbutton your shirt.

“Is this okay?” He asked, voice soft. Hands quickening as you nodded your response. The fabric dropped from your shoulders and into the sink, your breasts only concealed by the thin lace of your bra.

His cheeks blossomed red as he admired you, eyes trained on the bud of your nipples pressed against your bra and swallowed hard.

“You’re so beautiful,” his gaze met yours. Eddie’s voice sounded strained, as though he were struggling somehow and you began to push at the soft cotton of his black t-shirt. Running your hands at the patch of hair that led into his jeans up to his chest. Pushing his shirt up with your ascent and over his head, your teeth sinking into your lips as he stood before you. A new intimacy to the exposed skin you’d seen before.

It was your turn to make him shudder, to make goosebumps sprout as you dragged your fingertips down his abdomen and to his handcuff belt buckle.

Eddie’s eyes darkened as you unfastened it and tossed it aside, his fingertips tracing lines up your arms. Leaving behind a trail of electricity where they touched.

He lowered his head, breath warm against your skin as he placed kisses on your shoulder, peppering them up to your jaw.

He pulled at the straps of your bra and reached behind you for the clasp, unhooking it. Your bare breasts pressed to his chest, heat rising to deepen the color of your skin.

Eddie’s mouth was back on yours in an instant, kisses frenzied.

Need overpowering any thought as he made work of the button of your jeans while you made work of his with clumsy hands.

“Take these off,” you pushed at his chest and jumped from the counter to remove yours until you were in just your panties. Bare chest heaving with excitement.

His breath hitched at the sight of you, his hard arousal less restrained against the material of his boxers.

You kissed him again, slower. Deeper. Teeth grazing his lower lip as you stroked him over the thin material of his boxers. Smiling as he shuddered against your lips you pulled the rest of the material down.

Eddie’s hands dug into your skin as his hard cock sprang free against your stomach, the girth of it making your eyes snap open wide from the touch alone. Your pussy clenched as you thought of the stretch he would be and you needed him inside you.

He pushed your panties down until they fell to your ankles and walked you backward towards your shower, the cold of the glass door making you gasp as it touched your naked flesh.

Briefly, the two of you pulled apart.

Eddie’s pupils were blown, darkened by a different kind of hunger and breathing became difficult under his fixed gaze.

You began to stroke his hard dick rubbing your thumb against his tip, mouth-watering to have him pressed into your cheek as precum leaked down your hand.

Eddie swore he died and went to heaven as he watched you get down on your knees in front of him, your tongue dragging across the underside of his shaft.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, bucking when you wrapped your lips around his tip. Cheeks hollowed out as you teased him inch by inch until he was pressed against the back of your mouth. It felt like you were swallowing his dick the way you pulled him into your throat, gagging as you looked up at him. Slobber collecting around his cock and dripping down his balls.

His hands fisted in your hair, watching you bob up and down his cock, dragging your hand over his shaft as you did.

Eddie whispered your name and it only made you more needy for his cum, wanting to taste his warm load against your tongue.

“Baby, baby,” his grip on your hair tightened and you stilled, eyes looking up at him with your mouth still wrapped around his cock.

“I’m going to finish before we even get started if you keep doing that,” his voice was a little strained as you pulled back releasing his tip with a small pop.

“That’s okay,” you whispered as you continued to stroke him.

He shook his head and stilled your hand, fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“Not yet,” he lifted you up and kissed your swollen lips as he reached inside the shower to turn the hot water on, steam clouds quickly filling the room.

A small giggle escaped you as Eddie hoisted you up, fingers gripping your ass. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, hands twined around his shoulders as he carried you into the warm water.

Your fingers slipped into the curls at the nape his neck until his chest was pressed against yours.

Your mouths were frenetic, all teeth and tongue. An animalistic need that came over you.

His fingers gripped you tighter as you slid your wet arousal against his shaft. The tip of his cock teasing your tight entrance.

Eddie pulled away and groaned into your neck. Teeth scraped against the sensitive flesh and you moved your head to expose more of the skin to him.

His tongue slid against your pulse, feeling the way your heartbeat thrummed wildly underneath it.

You tangled your fingers into his curls bucking against him, sliding your slick folds against his length, enjoying the way his hands clutched your hips tighter. Trying to hold onto the last of his restraint.

“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered, and you stilled.

“There’s always next time,” you promised with a kiss and Eddie couldn’t believe there would be a next time.

His lips locked with yours as he unwrapped your legs from his waist, setting your shaky legs underneath you.

Agonizingly slow, his mouth trailed down your chest. Tongue swirling around your budded nipple. Pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck.

Your head fell against the tiled wall, nails scraping at his back as he showed your other breast the same attention. Kneading the other with his free hand.

His kisses trailed down your sternum, tongue grazing against your abdomen. As he neared your mound he lifted your leg, hooking your knee over his shoulder.

Steam billowed around you and against the glass panes, separating the two of you from the rest of the world. Water rolled down Eddie’s back soaking into his hair as his tongue left an agonizing trail up your thigh until he reached your center.

You gasped at the first swipe of his tongue, bucking as he parted your sensitive flesh.

He took his time, lapping at your already dripping arousal. Humming as he tasted you.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, returning to your thigh to press kisses into your skin. You tilted your head back against the wall, his affected voice playing in your head on a loop.

“I knew you’d be this sweet,” his voice was gruff, vibrating against your inner thigh as he sucked and bruised your skin before returning to your aching cunt.

His tongue darted in and out of your sopping pussy, enjoying the way your quiet moans reverberated off the walls.

The way you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning louder.

He began to rub gentle circles against your bundle of nerves and it felt like your mind became void of thought, ears whirring with the sound of your beating heart.

You wrapped your fingers in Eddie’s hair to keep you grounded, almost losing balance as he pulled your clit into his mouth with a gentle suck.

He teased your slick folds with his finger, prodding your entrance. Gathering your slick arousal before slowly inching inside of you until your walls were wrapped around him.

Eddie’s finger curled inside of you, pressing against your spongy center. A spot you were never able to reach on your own.

It had you seeing stars, moans growing louder and you covered your mouth to muffle the noise.

He groaned, about to cum at the sight of your pleasure with you wrapped around his finger. Slowly he added another digit, stretching you until he was knuckle deep. Your juices dripped down his hand as he quickened his pace.

The lude squelching of your pussy made his eyes roll, his tongue darting quicker over your sensitive clit.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as you began to ride his face, chasing the release you needed.

You bit back your moan and glanced down at him.

Eddie Munson was on his knees in front of you, dark brown eyes watching you as you ground your pussy against his face. His curled fingers darting in and out of your cunt, mouth sucking your clit. Freehand keeping you spread apart for him.

You gripped his hair, pulling at his curls as you began to come undone. Eyes slammed shut, the pleasure deepening until it felt like your entire body was a live wire thrumming, unfurling at your center.

You moaned his name over and over, the only word you knew how to say. No longer able to form a coherent thought as your pussy pulsed with the strength of your orgasm and Eddie didn’t move. Lapping at your release, relishing at the way you tasted as you coated his tongue.

He removed his fingers from you steadily, pressing kisses gingerly to your inner thigh, your abdomen, and up to your breasts until he was standing over you.

Eddie peppered a trail of kisses along your neck and up your cheek until his lips were pressed against yours.

You hummed as you tasted your release on his tongue, dragging your nails up his abdomen and to his chest. Enjoying the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

“Eddie,” you whispered his nickname between kisses, eyes still closed as his mouth worked against yours but your lungs were desperate for oxygen. Burning for a reprieve.

You pulled away slightly and peeked up at him through your lashes. Lungs constricting for a different reason. Obsidian eyes framed by long lashes looked back at you with an intensity that made you swallow harshly. Eyebrow pointed up as he waited for you to continue, to tell him what you’d planned to say.

His face was framed by his dark wet curls as they clung to him, porcelain skin blossoming a rosy pink from the temperature of the water, and holy, Eddie Munson was beautiful.

The kind that made your heart stutter, stop, and start again.

The kind that could have you dedicate paragraphs and soliloquies to describing the intensity of his gaze, the effect of his crooked smile.

The kind that had you staring at his lips, a little dazed and you could blame it on the world-altering orgasm. Could blame it as a side effect of the billowing steam around you. A little suffocating in its intensity.

“Yes, sweetheart?” His gruff voice broke through the silence, your train of thought, nose rubbing against yours and you crooned. Needy hands pushed at his chest and spun him around until his back was the one pressed against the wall.

Your fingers created a trail back down his abdomen and through the patch of hair that led to his cock.

“It’s my turn,” you whispered against his lips and began to stroke his length.

His jaw went a little slack, gaze trained on your teasing smile.

Watching the way you created circles against his tip, your other hand massaging his balls.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and began a trail over his jaw, settling on the sensitive skin of his neck.

Your tongue grazed his skin, enjoying the way his dick twitched in your hand as you began to nibble gently. Sucking the sensitive spot into a bruise. Eddie groaned, head tilted against the wall as his hands explored your body. Caressing your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

His hands moved to your hips as you trailed down his chest, kisses peppered down until just above his cock. You watched him from above your eyelashes, gaze trained on the dazed look in his eye as you dragged your tongue along his shaft. Swirling it along the top, the taste of precum salty against your tongue. You moaned at his taste, eager for him to coat your throat in his release.

Your head bobbed an inch and off again, teasing. A wicked smile on your lips when you looked up at him.

Eddie was on the brink of destruction, about to explode from the sight of you on your knees once again and this time he wouldn’t last.

“Such a fucking tease,” he grunted, fingers rubbing the side of your mouth. Tugging until you opened wider for him. He pushed his thumb in, groaning when your tongue swiped his finger. Sucked on it, releasing it with a loud pop. He rubbed your drool against your lips, watching it bounce back into place and you were back on his cock again. Not allowing him a moment longer to think as you sucked viciously on the tip while you fondled his balls.

Eddie’s moans grew louder and you clenched your legs together, aching for him to stretch you. The image of him pumping into you spurred you to take him deeper and you pulled him further into your mouth, cheeks hollowed out as you took him inch by inch until he was hitting the back of your throat.

He knotted his fingers into your hair, guiding your head up and down as you began to increase your pace. Until he was fucking your face. You concentrated on breathing through your nose, your tongue swirling while your hand gripped him. Stroking in sync with the movement of your head. Slobber coating his pubes and dripping down his balls.

“Holy fucking shit,” he cursed, listening as you gagged around his dick and it felt like you were swallowing him whole.

“I-I’m gonna come,” Eddie stammered, voice strained. You hummed against his cock, needy for him to finish. He pumped one more time until he was spilling into your mouth, warm come hit the back of your throat.

You continued to suck on his cock, milking every drop out of him. Ascending to his tip to lick him clean, enjoying the way his tangy spent tasted against your tongue.

Eddie’s body turned rosy, goosebumps breaking along his flesh. The orgasm rolling through him, felt deep in his gut and he swallowed the deep groan stuck in his throat.

His fingers were still twisted in your hair and slowly he released his tight grip, eyes opening to see you still on your knees trailing kisses over his softening arousal and back up his torso.

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him as if this wasn’t your first time together. Comfortable, shyness tucked away somewhere and hidden from sight.

“Hi,” you smiled at him fondly, voice softer than when you first entered the room. Eddie rubbed an affectionate thumb against the apple of your cheek, fondness evident behind his half-hooded eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered back and held you close, pecking a soft kiss against your lips. Fast as if it were a habit.

The two of you stood there, warm water hitting your back. Shrouded in steam and under the after-sex glow. The kind of glow that painted Eddie’s cheeks a permanent shade of pink and you didn’t think he could look any cuter.

“I’m pretty sure I’m going to be late to work,” you giggled. Not eager to move, unsure of what would happen once you did.

“Shit, I forgot that’s why we came back,” he laughed with you. This morning’s conversation felt like eons ago.

“‘S’okay,” you grinned, “Mark will be fine without his AM for a bit. Just need to get cleaned up.” You began to push off his chest but Eddie held you there and reached over for the bottle of shampoo.

“I can help you get cleaned up,” he offered, already reaching around you and putting too much shampoo onto his palm before you could respond. He rubbed it between his hands before massaging it into your scalp.

The smell of coconuts mixed with a floral scent filled the air as you mulled, enjoying the way his fingers felt in your hair.

“Oh my god-” you groaned, neck relaxing into his touch. Eddie chortled, enjoying the way that you melted into him even more.

“Does that feel good?”

“Munson, did I ever mention how talented you are with your hands?”

“I think you may have given me a hint,” he retorted, heavy on the innuendos and you slapped his chest lightly.

“Something about my mouth too,” he added, moving only slightly as you lifted your hand to swat him once more. His fingers still rubbing against your scalp, suds forming and lifting into the air.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered into his neck and his grin grew.

“Little Lipton thinks I’m cute,” he mused but your smile faltered as you pulled away from him. He looked at you quizzically, sudsy hands dropping from your scalp.

“What is it?”

You pressed your palm to his chest, putting space between the two of you. Taking a deep breath.

“I’m not Little Lipton,” you sighed, drawing invisible circles into his skin.

“Or Speilberg.” You rolled your eyes because as much as you hated, or pretended to hate, that nickname there was a part of you that felt a certain fondness for it. However small.

“It’s (Y/N),” you swallowed, “I want you to call me by name.”

He nodded but you didn’t look at him, eyes focused on the constellation of freckles that dotted his chest. The tattoo he let your brother do several years ago.

Eddie pushed your chin up so you’d look at him. At the sincerity that hid behind molten honey.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, your name never sounding any sweeter, and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Eddie,” and he never realized that his name could ever sound saccharine on someone’s tongue. How it would be to hear it wrapped in affection. A hint of budding adoration.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, to the tip of your nose before gently pushing your back into the water to rinse the shampoo from it.

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munson-blurbs · 5 months

Note

Eddie and Ms. Sweetheart's honeymoon 🥹🥹🥹

The way I ran to Google Docs to write this, not just because I love me some fluffy smut, but also because I love you.

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Relaxing on the beach, giving your new husband a sexy surprise...what more can you ask for?

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), p in v, breeding kink (of course), Ms. Sweetheart/Reader wears lingerie

WC: 1.1k

A/N: Big thank you and smoochy kisses to @jo-harrington for helping me make this piece body-inclusive, and to @corroded-hellfire for ensuring the breeding kink was on point.

August 1998

“What a day.” Eddie flops onto the king-size bed face first, still in his wet swim trunks. Sand sticks to the bottom of his feet; you swear he’s traipsed in half the beach. “Who knew lounging in the sun could be so exhausting? I don’t know how we’re gonna go back to our normal lives.” He flips over onto his back so his words are no longer muffled. “Like, my body might be back in Hawkins, but my mind will be in Myrtle Beach.”

You laugh, arms crossed over your chest and pressed against the thin fabric of your cover-up. “Can you drag yourself into the shower and wash off?” When he doesn’t move, you let your fingertips dance along the sole of his foot. He giggles maniacally and reflexively, drawing inwards.

“Dammit, okay, okay!” He shakes his head and pushes himself up to an upright position. “The things you do to get me naked…”

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes dismissively as though his suggestion is absurd—even though that’s exactly what you’re trying to do.

As soon as you hear the squeak of the spigot and the ensuing stream of water, you unzip your suitcase and rifle through until you find what you’re looking for. You feel it before you see it, fingers grasping the lacy fabric triumphantly.

You shed the flower-printed cover-up, catching a glimpse in the mirror of yourself in your swimsuit. Eddie had picked it out for you—a one-piece that hugged you in all the right places. Truthfully, you could wear this and it would turn him on, but this is your honeymoon, and you want it to be special.

Peeling off the damp suit, you toss it aside; it lands on the floor with a comical thwack, and you make a mental note to pick it up later.

The teddy you’d bought weeks ago suddenly looks daunting, purchased during a trip to the mall with Jess. She’d insisted that no honeymoon is complete without some lingerie, and you’d reluctantly given in after she’d assured you multiple times that Eddie would, quote, “lose his goddamn mind.”

Soft black cups perfectly hold your breasts in place, accentuating your decolletage. The sheer mesh covering your torso is embroidered with lace roses, leaving just enough to the imagination.

All right, you can admit it—you look good.

You lounge on the small sofa that faces the bathroom, adjusting the bodysuit’s thin straps as you wait for the steadily falling water to cease, punctuated by several rogue drops. Your heart leaps with excitement as you hear the door knob twist and you’re bathed in a plume of steamy air.

“Surprised you didn’t try to join—holy hell.” Eddie exhales with a grin, taking in your scantily-clad body. A white towel is slung low on his hips, sopping up the water trickling from his curls. “Where did you get this little number, baby?”

Heat creeps into your cheeks as he saunters toward you, one hand finding the small of your back while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in and kisses you hungrily, his burgeoning erection pressing against your bare thigh.

“Got me all worked up just by looking at you, Mrs. Munson,” he murmurs into your lips. It sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine as he deepens his embrace, pulling you as close as he possibly can.

Your fingers dip beneath the towel, tugging it from where it’s tucked along his waist and letting it drop. He’s fully exposed, and it takes all of your willpower to keep up this game of seduction and refrain from kissing down his happy trail.

“Since you’re so tired tonight, baby,” you coo, nipping at his earlobe as you speak, “I figured I could take care of you.” Your palms journey the expanse of his chest, draping them over his shoulders and guiding him onto the bed. The fresh bed sheets are crisp underneath your knees as you straddle him, grinding your core against his. “‘S that okay?”

Eddie nods, letting out an incredulous breath. “Course, yeah, whatever you want…” He sits up slightly, mouth drawn to your breasts as though pulled by a magnet.

“I want you,” you tell him, sucking bruises into his neck that you hope will last until you return home. “I want you inside me, filling me up, making me feel so, so good…”

The fabric between your thighs is already soaked with proof of your desire, and you shift it over so you can sink down onto his hardened length. You take him inch by inch, the tip breaching your hole and stretching you in its delicious, familiar way.

“Oh, my god,” you whimper, bringing his hands to the flesh of your ass and giving your movements more stability. Each rock of your hips draws a moan from your husband’s plush lips, his tongue darting out to wet them every so often. “Eddie, oh, my god!”

His grip on your ass tightens as you clench around him and continue to bounce. “‘M close,” he grunts, breath hitching as he begins slamming up into you to chase his release. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight…can’t hold back any more…” He speaks through gritted teeth, purely animalistic in nature.

Your middle finger finds your clit, rubbing small circles into it. The small movements drive both you and Eddie absolutely wild.

“Thassit…touch yourself for me,” he groans, barely audible above the lewd sounds of skin-on-skin and the way you’re drenching him right now. “You look so goddamn perfect like this, filled to the brim with my cock.”

“Wanna be filled with your cum, too,” you whine, feeling the beginnings of your own orgasm. “Wanna take all your cum, Eddie, like a good little wife.”

Eddie’s eyes practically roll back in his head. “My good little wife, all barefoot and pregnant…fuckfuckfuck…takeittakeittakeit.” With a final few thrusts, he spills into you with everything he has. His grasp loosens as he softly kisses your arms, desperate to remain close to you in any way possible.

“So,” you start with a giggle, gently moving off of him so you can cuddle into his perspiration-slick chest, “looks like you got a second wind.”

He tilts your chin up, his eyes studying your face like a precious gemstone. “Give me ten minutes and I’ll get a third, okay, Sweetheart?” He winks, thumb gliding up and down your jawline. “Keep that sexy outfit on f’me, though. I’m not done with either of you.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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lovebugism · 8 months

Note

Bugggggg, my dear! I need to know what happens when Eddie climbs through that window with Gareth sisterrr!!!

thanks for being so patient while i wrote a part two! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie sneaks into his best friend's step-sister's bedroom, stealthy like a ninja tw for allusions to smut (2.7k, find part one here)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

Eddie shows up at your house at eleven, even though you told him to be there at midnight.

He couldn’t wait the extra hour to see you. It felt like it was eons away — a whole lot more than just sixty minutes. After dealing all day in ninety-degree heat, he was aching to rest his tired bones next to yours. His thoughts of you weren’t even sinful — which isn’t something he can say very often.

The way he yearned for you was innocent, palpable, and suffocating. Like honey or the summer sun. It was something sticky and sweet, nostalgic and boyish.

It’s why he parks three houses down, just like you asked him to, and why he scales the trellis of your bedroom window with all the finesse of a dog on roller skates.

You left your light on for him like you promised— a glowing yellow let he climbs towards. Your window is open, too. Eddie gets all twisted up in your lace curtains when he finally reaches the second story. His ankle gets caught in the pane. He catches himself before he tumbles to the ground entirely, his palms melting into your carpeted floor.

Half-stuck in your window, Eddie’s wide eyes flit around your bedroom. You’re nowhere to be found, but some upbeat pop song plays on the radio on the dresser beside a shut door — the bathroom, maybe.

“You are the dancing, young and sweet, only seventeen!” Your voice is muffled as you sing along to the words. You sound like sunshine in the middle of a cool summer night.

With the knowledge that he didn’t make a complete fool of himself in front of you or anybody else, he crawls the rest of the way in and stands in the middle of your pretty pink bedroom.

It’s as girly as you are, filled with everything grownups convince children they’re supposed to hate when they get older — teddy bears, dolls, and other heart-sharped trinkets. Everything’s frilly and pale pink, delicate like you.

The door clicks open. Eddie’s eyes widen when you and a warm steam comes spilling out. The smell of roses and vanilla twirls out just like you do. Clad only in a too big Fleetwood Mac t-shirt, and with wet hair dripping down your back, you sing into your hair brush.

“You can dance! You can jive! Having the time of your life—” You cut yourself off when you realize Eddie’s standing in the middle of your bedroom. You don’t scream, but you feel sort of like your heart has stopped as your hand flies to your mouth. “Oh, my god!”

“Sorry!” the boy apologizes through his laughter, palms spread out ahead of him in surrender. “I’m— I’m sorry. I should’ve… I should’ve knocked.”

You’re still a bit too frightened to laugh at his joke. You bring your palm from your mouth to your racing heart and exhale a sigh of relief. “You weren’t supposed to be here until midnight.”

Eddie beams when you rush to turn down your music, only because you aren’t looking at him to see it. Instead of telling you he couldn’t wait that long to see you, he jokes, “Oh, is it not twelve yet? My watch must be an hour fast.”

“Or maybe you just don’t know how to tell time, Eighty-Six,” you tease with a bright grin.

Eddie’s brows raise beneath his curly bangs. His own smile curls at his pink lips at your harsh joke. It comes from a too-pretty face for him to take offense to it.

He wraps you in his arms when you walk over to him. His palms spread along your hips as your arms wrap around his neck. He tries not to shiver when your fingers trace the wild curls at the base of his neck.

“Well, that’s not very nice of you, now is it, princess?” he asks in the same sarcastic tone.

“Or maybe you just really wanted to see me?” you follow up with an innocuous shrug and a hopeful glint in your eye.

Eddie scoffs. “That is very presumptuous of you, sweetheart.”

“It’s only presumptuous if I’m wrong— which I know I’m not, so…”

“You sound very sure of yourself,” he quips with narrowed eyes.

You meet his look with a grin. “‘Cause I can read you like a book, Eddie Munson.”

You rise on the tips of your toes, pressing yourself further into him with the intent to taste his lips. He stops you before you get the chance.

His chin jerks back, though it’s not exactly intentional. With your chest more intently pushed against his own, he can feel much more of you than he’s used to. Your stiff nipples are crushed between both of your bodies. His brain short-circuits accordingly.

Eddie covers it up with a mischievous smile. “No bra?”

“It’s your fault,” you pout, not swayed by his teasing.

“Is it?”

You nod, wide-eyed like you’re all innocent. “You got here too early. I was gonna put on makeup and a pretty dress for you and everything…”

Though Eddie’s heart swells at the thought, he shakes his head in response. The bridge of his nose scrunches as his hands rise from your waist. His palms are warm along your blushing cheeks.

“I like you better like this,” he confesses quietly.

“Really?” you ask with pinched brows.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I love your glitter and skirts and your… everything, but… I don’t know. I think you look pretty like this, too.”

Your chest warms so suddenly, you think your heart might be melting.

No one’s ever said anything like that to you before — not that you weren’t pretty, but that you were still pretty even when you aren’t trying to be.

A heavy feeling swells behind your ribcage that makes you feel like crying.

“You don’t have to be so nice to me, you know?” you joke with a halfhearted laugh. “I’m already obsessed with you.”

His own chuckle spills from his pink mouth. “I’m being serious.”

“If you wanted a blowjob, you coulda just said—”

Your grin is wide and mischievous, full of candor, as your hands leave his neck and fall to the silver buckle of his leather belt. The giddy smile fades when his fingers curl around your wrists to stop you.

Eddie’s eyes fly open wide. His mouth falls softly agape, as though surprised by your forwardness, though he knows he should be used to it now. He stammers. “We don’t— I mean, we don’t have to—”

You step back like you’ve burned him. Your features flood in a similar horror. “Oh, sorry— I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“It’s okay,” Eddie assures with a soft laugh to quell your worry. He chases you when you part from him and takes your wringing hands in his larger ones. “I know most guys sneaking into a girl’s room usually want one thing, so… It’s kinda my fault, actually.”

“And you don’t… You don’t want that?” you question with a furrow to your brow.

“No, I do! Trust me. I do, I just…” he trails off with a sigh. His chin tilts to his chest as he peers at you from beneath his lashes. There’s a twinkle in the deep chocolate of his eye. “I’d rather it be more romantic than, you know— than this.”

His hand motions somewhere beside him. You figure he’s referring to the scuff marks his sneakers left on your lace curtains.

You smile sheepishly as his wide palms engulf your own. “I wanna take things slow with you and… treat you right and everything…”

“That is very old-fashioned of you, Eddie Munson,” you croon lowly as you lean back into him. Your hands entwine when your chests push together all over again. His long fingers slot between yours as the tip of your nose traces the bridge of his.

“Maybe…” he hums in a sigh, the breath of it fanning over your chin. It smells like cigarettes and spearmint gum. “But also, if I’m gonna fuck you, I don’t want us to have to be quiet, you know?”

His eyes narrow with a mischievous squint when you part from him. You meet his smirk with a beam.

“Like I said… Such a gentleman.”

You go in for a kiss, and this time he lets you.

It’s much deeper than the one you shared behind the 7/11, but still just as pure. It’s full of honey and sunshine — your floral perfume and his muskier cologne — your candied breath and his nicotine-coated one. It’s filled with the innocence leftover from your lingering girlhood and his boyhood, both of which you’ve yet to grow out of.

It makes his mouth taste that much sweeter. It makes his lips that much softer. It makes you want to kiss the breath from his lungs, and it makes him want to swallow you whole.

—————

A breeze billows through the open window you forgot to close the night before.

It smells like freshly cut grass and early morning dew and vaguely like teenage boy. It feels like silk as it rolls across your bed, though it’s cold enough to make you rouse.

You feel the weight of Eddie Munson on your ribcage before you open your eyes to see him.

Your gaze is slow to clear, heavy with honey. You find the wild-haired boy snoozing on your stomach — long lashes brushing the apples of his cheeks, face smushed into your t-shirt, pink mouth agape to exhale soft snores against your ribs. The sight of him like this makes you feel a bit like you’re dreaming.

The two of you settled into bed some hours after midnight, equally fatigued after an intense bout of nonstop conversation. You’d been sharing a single pillow then, and trying very hard not to kiss him.

“Wake me up before sunrise, will you?” he’d told you as his eyes drifted closed.

Your brows pinched together. “For what?”

“So I can leave before everyone in your house knows I’m here,” the boy scoffed in a tired laugh. “Don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, you know?”

You didn’t know what he meant by that. But rather than ask him, your brain shouted its own understanding at you — a blinking neon sign that was virtually unmissable.

He must not want to be seen with me, the voice tells you. Maybe this isn’t as serious as I was hoping it’d be. Maybe we just have the night together, and maybe I have to be grateful I got it at all.

As though he could read your mind, a half-asleep Eddie Munson patched together your breaking heart without trying. “Don’t want your parents to think I’m just trying to get in your pants or somethin’… Also I’m pretty Gareth would kill me if he knew I spent the night here.”

He exhales a weary chuckle, and you force yourself to do the same.

It was never about you, but rather about the lingering implication that looked rather daunting from afar.

The town freak sneaks into the bedroom of the local princess, and it’s certainly not to slay some sleeping dragon. It was a headline waiting to happen. No one would believe you if you told them Eddie was more interested in the stories behind each of your stuffies than he was in what your body looked like under your clothes.

You drifted off alongside him, expecting at least one of you to rouse before the sun came up. You quickly found that waking up from the best night’s sleep of your life was practically impossible. And with the way Eddie slumbers so soundly against your stomach, you figure he must be a lot of the same.

A smile quirks the corners of your lips as you look down at the sleeping boy. It’s too filled with exhaustion to be evident, but the sentiment is there and swirling like burning embers in your chest.

Eddie rises and falls with each of your even breaths. His heavier ones are sighed in time with yours. He’s heavy like a weighted blanket. You hardly notice the burden of him now, but you’d feel the lack of him if he were gone.

Ornery umber curls fall over his face, sticking to his cheek and his mouth. You reach down to sweep them away with a gentle hand, jerking back when Eddie huffs and shifts against you.

“Shit. Sorry,” you apologize in a whisper. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

The boy sighs deeply through his nose and smushes his face back into your stomach. Still half-asleep, he slurs, “’S okay. Keep doing that. It felt good.”

You exhale a breathy laugh and return your hand to his hair. Your fingers dance through the curls at the crown of his head as you massage his scalp. You feel the warmth of his sigh when it fans against you, and you smile.

“Sorry for not waking you up,” you confess in your second apology of the morning.

Eddie’s breath jerks suddenly. You think it must be his drowsy laughter. “‘M sorry for using you like a pillow all night.”

“I kinda liked that, actually,” you admit with a scrunched nose and distant smile.

The boy lifts his cheek from your stomach and replaces it with his chin. He grins at you — plush, pink, and heavy like syrup. His chocolate eyes are a lot of the same. They’re swollen with sleep but twinkling with early morning adoration nonetheless.

“And I’m glad you didn’t wake me up, so… I guess we’re even then, huh?”

He rises with a grunt. The mattress shifts under his weight as he leans his lankier body against yours. He props himself on the forearms he lays on either side of your head. His nose nudges against the tip of yours. You’re moments away from tilting your chin and pressing your mouth against his, morning breath and all, but a knock at your door throws a wrench in your plans.

“Mom wants to know if you want pancakes,” Gareth calls from the other side of the entrance.

“Yes, please!” you singsong in response.

You’d be an idiot to turn them down. Gareth’s mom makes the best breakfast this side of Indiana has ever seen. You figure you’ll have to find a way to smuggle some to Eddie before he leaves, so his lips will taste like your favorite food when you kiss him goodbye. Maybe that’ll hold you over until you can sneak him in again—

“What about you, Eddie?” Gareth calls again with a knowing inflection in his muffled voice.

It makes the both of you freeze.

Eddie hardens like a rock on top of you, and not in the way that you’re used to.

His eyes widen as he looks down at you, finding nothing but your own look of gaping horror. You shake your head at him — a silent plea to stay silent — even though you know that Gareth is somehow aware of his best friend’s company.

Eddie’s brain short circuits, and the words spill out before he can stop them. “Uh… Nope! I’m— I’m good.”

“Suit yourself…”

The boy’s footsteps recede down the hallway.

Eddie exhales an embarrassed groan as his head falls to your shoulder. He tucks himself into the nook of your neck with the intent to hide there. His soft, untamed curls tickle the skin of your chin and jaw.

Despite your own lingering mortification, your hands curl under his arms and sprawl along his shoulder blades — keeping him intently pressed against you. “How did he…?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie laughs against your skin before you can finish the question. His face finds yours again, and he shrugs. “I mean… I guess I wasn’t as stealthy as I thought when I climbed through your window.”

“Really?” you hum. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“It was your curtains. They were trying to kill me, princess, I swear.”

“Well… At least, now we don’t have to worry about telling him,” you reason, even though your voice trembles.

Eddie’s grin wavers just the same. “Yeah, let’s hope he doesn’t punch me over pancakes and orange juice or something today.”

Your head tilts to your shoulder as you smile up at him. Your hands fall from his shoulders to cup his jaw. “I’d patch you up,” you promise quietly as you pull him down for a kiss.

Eddie gravitates toward you like he was made to do it. His mouth falls agape to accept your own before he realizes. You taste like flowers and early morning and the rest of his life.

A punch in the face would be worth it if he meant he got to taste you forever.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #bug's summer fic fest!

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barbieaemond · 4 months

Text

And all the roses turn to black

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings: angst, implied smut, fingering

Author’s note: I have no idea what this is. It just came to me like this lol

Word count: 686

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @chompchompluke

The coin twists and turns, and you with it, waiting to see if you will go to bed with regret or remorse. They have been merging for some time; it is hard to draw the boundaries between one or the other, between what is right and what is wrong.

The anarchy of your heart dictates different laws. All it takes is a fresh bouquet of roses on your bedside table to get you over the boundaries. White roses, precisely, not blue, not to be too obvious.

"I hate to break it to you, but any kind of rose is…quite plain."

“Precisely how my intentions shall be: plain.”

“They’re orders, not intentions. I shouldn’t owe you anything more than my loyalty.”

“That is loyalty.”

“The Gods may beg to differ.”

“I don’t think I care.“ he had swallowed your useless grievances with a kiss that dug into you like a claw, and you had let him cut you openly, you let him carve his law like an awl in stone, welcoming each groove, blowing your obedience into his mouth, swearing on his name again and again as you came undone beneath him.

With each rose found in your rooms, a new oath muffled on sweaty sheets and on his ruthless mouth. Ruthless in words and bites, in kisses, in the way his tongue draws arabesques on the swollen skin between your legs, in how he slips inside your drenched flesh as if slipping a ring on his finger. Just like the one he wears, proudly displaying the seal of his noble house.

The same one you had seen twirling between his fingers that morning when you were walking in the gardens with your husband. He had seen you and fucked you from that distance. You felt it.

Inside, you had bent over on the grass, in front of your husband, with the sun beating hard on your naked limbs as the Prince grabbed your hips and thrust harder, spilling another sacred oath from your throat.

“I thought of making love to you this morning.”

“Where? In the garden? With your husband watching?”

“Yes.

“And then what?”

“And then it was all I could think about.”

“‘Tis not what I asked.”

“I did not do it.”

“Good.”

“I hate someone else touching me. Including myself.” hunger clouded his eye and then you were panting, arching your back as he slipped two fingers between your wet lips. “Do you see what you did to me?” you panted next to his ear, feeling his hot cheek against yours and the low groan hissed through his teeth as he bit your jaw. “I loathe my own body when you’re not inside me.” you said, cursing his name as he slid a third finger “You turned me into a vestige.”

You spin the coin one last time and you’re out of your room. He’s sitting by the fire, unbothered as you step in front of him. The only sign that tells you he’s not transmuted into stone is the light raising of his chest.

“No roses?”

No answer. Only a glance up before returning to the flames.

“I know what happened. Lucerys is dead.”

Aemond looks up, his eye is peaceful. A malignant peace the Gods will curse him for.

“Why are you hiding in here?”

“I am not.” he says “I’m sparing my family.”

“Of what?”

“My lack of regret.” the words do not come out of his mouth, but from some haunted place where a maimed child swore revenge on and on, screamed it so much that he’d lost his voice, so he carved it into his flesh and the retribution had finally come, mangling his nephew in bits of bones swallowed by the sea.

“Don’t spare me.” You say sitting on his lap, as at the altar of your own.

“This means war.” he says tilting his chin until he’s breathing through your lips “Your husband shall be willing to go back to the West and call his banners.”

“Indeed.”

“And where will you be?”

“Where my loyalty lies. Until all the roses turn to black.”

PART II

#liv(in la vida loca)#liv's drabbles #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x fem!oc

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

flowers ~ Aemond Targaryen

Pairing: dad!Aemond x fem!reader

Summary: Aemond and his children take a stroll in the gardens.

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: none, pure fluff

A/N: Had a request for more dad!Aemond, couldn't resist!

Requests are open 💚

Aemond had spent the early morning collecting his children and bringing them to the gardens before you rose from your shared bed. It was a special day, and he wanted to make you feel extraordinary.

As the early morning sun rose higher in the sky, Aemond and his two children paraded through the gardens, hunting for flowers.

“How do you know which flowers mother likes?” Vaelora asked, her mouth twisted, brows furrowed. Aemond chuckled at his daughter’s remark.

“I discovered early on which flowers your mother enjoys. And which suits her,” he told her, clipping a dragon’s breath from a nearby bush.

Vaegon was nearby, grabbing fistfuls of golden roses.

“I enjoy these ones,” Vaelora said, and Aemond turned to her. She held a pair of blood-blooms in her small hands. “Would mother like these?”

Aemond smiled at his daughter, his first born. Aemond did not think it was possible to love someone as fiercely as he does his little family.

“She shall love them.”

Vaelora smiled, pleased at her father’s praise.

“Kepa,” Vaelora said, “when did you start bringing mother flowers?”

Aemond smiled at the question, at his curious daughter.

“When your mother arrived in the Red Keep,” he began, “we were not meant to be betrothed.”

Vaelora’s eyes widened. She had not heard this story before, though she had always been curious. Through her lessons she had learned that most marriages were made for political purposes. But she knew this was not true with Aemond and you. She could see the love you held for each other.

“You weren’t?”

Aemond hummed, shaking his head.

“But, do you know what I did?” he asked, causing Vaelora to shake her head in return, silver curls bouncing.

“I left a flower outside her chambers, on the plate she used to break her fast, on her seat during feasts,” he said, smiling at the memory.

“What flower?” she asked.

“Dragon’s breath,” Aemond said, passing one of the red flowers to Vaelora. She held it gently in her small hands, as though it may fall apart from her touch.

He could still picture it, the smile that crept to your face, the blush that filled your cheeks as flowers found you daily. You were a clever woman, you had figured out the prince’s ruse rather quickly.

“And mother liked it?”

“Enough to marry me. Enough to bless me with you,” he said teasingly, tickling Vaelora’s stomach, and causing her to giggle.

“And Vaegon,” she corrected, causing Aemond to hum in agreement, as her younger brother came to join them with fists full of flowers.

“Shall we pick more dragon’s breath for mother as well?” Vaelora asked.

“I think that is a splendid idea,” Aemond agreed, following his children deeper into the gardens.

Your son Vaegon was barely visible behind the bouquet of flowers he held in his small arms. A laugh escaped your lips.

Aemond crouched next to him, ushering him forward. Your son approached you and you knelt, pushing through the flowers until meeting his violet eyes.

“Happy nameday mother,” he said cheerfully, presenting the bouquet.

“We picked them ourselves!” Vaelora said, a proud smile on her lovely face. You took the flowers from him, taking care to press your nose into the colorful flowers, inhaling the sweet scent.

“How very sweet, my little dragons,” you crooned, taking both children into your arms for a hug. You smiled at Aemond as he leaned against the doorway to your shared chambers.

“And we have set up a picnic in the gardens to break our fast!” Vaegon said, excitedly.

“What a lovely idea,” you tell him, stroking his silver head. You stand up, taking the bouquet with you, finding an empty vase on the table. You place the flowers inside and begin to arrange them.

“Kepa says we can see Vhagar later as well, and fly across the bay!” Vaelora says, coming to your side.

“I cannot think of a more perfect day!” you tell her, taking her hand in yours as she pulls you towards the door.

“Come, come see!” Vaelora demands, clasping Aemond’s hand in her free one, dragging both parents from the room. Vaegon trails behind, and Aemond scoops him up with his free arm.

Vaelora leads you back o the gardens, where a blanket has been laid out for you to break your fast. As you sit down on the blanket Vaelora notices a dragon’s breath flower laying atop your plate, the bright red petals striking against the white plate.

You pick up the flower, a dark rouge spreading across your cheeks as you glance at your husband. Aemond’s smile is soft.

“Biare brōzi tubis issa jorrāelagon,” he murmurs, lacing his hand in yours (Happy name day, my love). The look he gives you is one of adoration.

Vaelora smiles. Though she is just beginning to grasp her mother tongue, she understands what her father means.

#dad!aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond drabble #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen drabble #aemond fluff

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lollixp0p · 2 months

Text

Valentine's lovin' (18+)

Pairing: Bf!Jung Wooyoung x afab!reader

Genre: Romance, fluffy, smut (MNDI)

Word count: Just over 3k!!

Warnings: Idol!au, established relationship, sub!Wooyoung (subtle though), nipple play (m rec.), hair pulling (m rec.), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!), riding, creampie, (reader gets called my love, baby and other variations of it, Wooyoung gets called kitty, good boy)

Summary: It's your first Valentine's day as a couple and Wooyoung decides to take you on the best date of your life, so of course you have to reward him for his efforts ;)

Note: Happy Valentine's day everyone!! It's lovely Wooyoung time, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys (ignore any errors, I'm too lazy to check for them properly right now) :) Please comment, reblog etc. and give me feedback so I know if you liked it!🙏

Please do not under any circumstance copy, translate, or repost my works!

The entire week up to today Wooyoung had been a stressed mess, wanting to make sure everything was in order for your special date. Why special, you may ask? Well because it was Valentine's day and he'd wanted everything to be as perfect as possible.

He'd made sure to move every practice or other schedule from that day to a different one, although their managers had not been very pleased about the information.

He had to nag Hongjoong and Jongho to be out of their dorm by seven pm at the latest, so you two could relax after the date with an amateur spa session and then watch your favorite movies until the two of you fell asleep cuddled on his bed. They'd finally agreed on the promise of free dinner paid by him the next day (much to Wooyoungs dismay).

Even though he had been all over the place on the days before it, the actual date was far more magical you could have ever imagined.

Wooyoung showed up to the door of your apartment in a fancy black suit holding a large bouquet of red roses, to signify his undying love and passion for you.

Although the lower half of his face was covered by a black face mask he looked so incredibly handsome you just wanted to drag him straight to your room and skip the entire date.

"Happy Valentine's day my love, I hope you're ready for the most romantic day of your life! These are for you, the most gorgeous person I've ever had the pleasure of seeing", Wooyoung says, pulling his mask down and grinning at you. He hands you the gorgeous bouquet and waits by the door as you go inside to put them in a vase.

"Thank you Wooyoungie... they're so beautiful", you smile at him bashfully. No matter how long it's been he still manages to make your stomach fill with butterflies and twist and turn in the most wonderful ways. The months you've been together have truly been the happiest of your life and you really can't wait to see what he has in store for you for your first Valentine's together.

Wooyoung tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leaves his hand on your cheek, caressing it softly. He leans in until your noses are touching, but holds still until you try to look away in shyness at his intense gaze.

Chuckling to himself and muttering a 'silly baby' under his breath, he turns your face towards him and finally closes the gap between you, kissing you passionately. Once he breaks off the kiss you're left breathless and dazed... 'What a little brat...' you think, but he's yours so you don't mind him teasing you like this.

He offers you his arm and after making sure you have everything you need with you, you finally grab it, close the door and he leads you to the company car driving you two to the expensive looking barbeque restaurant he'd booked a private room from.

During the entire ride Wooyoung couldn't stop gushing about how gorgeous you looked and you couldn't help but feel flattered that someone whose looks rivaled that of the suns could see such wonder in you.

When you'd gotten close enough to the restaurant Wooyoung put his mask and baseball cap on to hide his identity, slightly ruining his perfectly placed hair. 'The unfortunate realities of going on dates with an idol', you think to yourself, but ultimately understand it being for both of your safety and privacy.

After checking in at the front desk a waiter leads you to your private room and Wooyoung finally takes both the cap and mask fully off.

He fluffs his hair and helps you take your jacket off as you stare at him in wonder, itching to touch the perfectly fallen curls of his hair.

"Thank you Youngie", you smile up at him. He places the coat on the rack next to the door and pauses for a moment, looking you up and down and smiles back at you. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, feeling flustered at how taken he is by you.

"You're welcome pretty baby... I didn't realise you still had the jacket I lent you a month ago, I've been wondering where it went", he chuckles to you while pulling your chair back and pushing it closer to the desk once you're seated.

The restaurant staff had obviously known of your arrival beforehand, and made the room ready for use in advance. He sits down as a different waiter arrives and listens to them explain the menu. The both of you decide to split a slightly bigger meal so you wouldn't be too full by the time you got to the dorms.

Wooyoung had picked an incredible place to eat, as the food had looked mouthwatering the moment it arrived in the room, even if the meat had been raw at that point. His cooking skills had really shined through and you suspect that had been a part of the reason he wanted to take you there, fishing for compliments as he grills the meat for both of you.

While eating you exchanged about a thousand kisses with each other, even as you whined at him to stop so you could chew your food. Though he did make up for it by feeding you with his chopsticks and making sure you drank enough in between, smiling endearingly at you as he wipes any stray sauce off your cheeks, kissing them after.

The conversation was flowing so naturally that at times you'd completely forget to eat or sip the wine you had, due to your excitement and interest in the things you were talking about, making his show of affection very helpful even.

Once you had finally finished you'd put away any trash you managed to make and set your cutlery nicely on the table, to make the waiters job easier. Wooyoung got himself ready to leave and then handed you your jacket. He made sure to let the company staff driving your ride know the car could be driven to the front.

The two of you left after thanking the restaurant staff and once outside Wooyoung opened the door for you to get into the car before him.

You found yourself flustered by how he had upped his charm to what must be a thousand percent for this special day. It was clear this day was very important to him, wanting to impress you so.

In the car Wooyoung kept leaving sweet pecks to your cheeks and lips, telling you how much he loved you. It was obvious the shared wine had gotten him a bit buzzed but you could tell he wasn't drunk, just in that stage where he wanted to kiss you until you both were one, entangled in each others love.

Sitting on the right of you, little by little, his right hand drifts down to your thighs, until he's gripping the inner thigh of your right leg. Moving it towards him slowly, he slightly spreads your legs. Though to your relief (and dissapointment) that's all he does.

By now you know him well enough to know that normally he'd be cheeky enough to try finger you in the backseat, but you're glad he knows better right now. Wooyoung must realise that if he keeps his hands to himself, you'll rock his world as a thanks for the best date you'd ever had together yet.

Despite being a little brat that needs to be put in his place every once in a while, you know there's nothing Wooyoung loves more than getting taken care of and pampered, being controlled.

The car coming to a stop is what gets him to stop drowning you in kisses and he gathers himself, taking his hand off your thigh and winking at you. 'God he looks delicious', you find yourself thinking as he's fixing his hair. You have to remind yourself there's someone else in the car with you so you don't take him right here.

Wooyoung opens the door and gets out, then helps you out of the car by holding your hand. After thanking the driver and telling him to have a great night, the car drives off.

He takes off the mask again and shoves it into his pocket, grinning at you when he notices your intense staring. Even if it's meant to be teasing his smile truly is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

The two of you walk up to the front door of the dorm he shares with the leader and the maknae of his group. After the move that divided the eight of them into three separate places, meeting him at the dorm had become a lot less stressful.

Before there was no privacy at all and the rest of the men would tease Wooyoung any chance they'd get. Sure, it was out of love for him but the amount of times one of the seven had walked in on a makeout session was starting to become ridiculous.

Wooyoung pulls out his keys and as he tries to get the dorm key in the lock, the focused look on his face makes you snap and finally jump him. He manages to get the door open just as you turn his head towards you and slot your mouths together. He lets out surprised gasp at your enthusiasm and you use the opportunity to shove your tongue into his mouth.

The two of you stumble into the dark apartment with your lips locked. You kiss him harder and he whimpers, loving the feel of you on him. Wooyoung has his hands holding tightly onto your hips and eyes shut in pleasure but despite that he still manages to turn the lights on in the hallway, very telling of how often you've done this together.

You tap him lightly on the shoulder and he gets your signal, your minds and bodies dancing in harmony, something that makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. He removes your jacket while you take off his and start unbuttoning the shirt underneath. Leaving everything extra at the front door the two of you run to his room hand in hand giggling to each other with lovesick eyes.

Fuck it, the spa session and movies can wait until later.

He opens the bedroom door, pushes you in and closes it behind you both. Crowding him in against the door you continue making out. You run your hands through his silky hair, tug on it and Wooyoung lets out a pathetic whimper, grinding his already hardening dick against your leg. You push his open shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

"Hey... no fair, you have to take yours off too!", he breaks the kiss to pout at you.

"Oh, I'm sorry Youngie... I thought I was in control here? When did you get so demanding, huh?"

He stays quiet and looks down, you can almost see the conflict in his eyes. Should he keep teasing you and risk a punishment or listen like a good boy and get his reward for being such an incredibly thoughtful and sweet boyfriend today?

"Well? How's it gonna be little kitty, are you gonna be good and listen to me?"

He looks up at you through the hair covering his beautiful brown eyes, "... Yeah... yes please, baby," Wooyoung whispers, "I'll- I'll listen- I want you, please."

"Mmm, my good boy, thank you...", you coo at him and kiss him on the cheek. "I'll take such good care of you Woo." His whole face down to his neck flushes red in excitement and arousal. He's so greedy for praise and compliments...

"Take off your clothes and get on the bed for me, won't you kitty?", you tilt his face towards you and he shivers, nodding. He does as told and situates himself in the middle of the bed, looking at you while you stand at the foot of the bed. Slowly you take your clothes off and his eyes widen.

Taking in the sexy red lingerie, barely covering anything, he gulps and grips the knees of his pants, "A-ah shit, what the fuck... You're so sexy...", his face scrunches, shuddering breaths leaving his mouth. You giggle at his obvious arousal, cupping your tits in your hands and groping them. His hands twitch, like he's itching to move them to his very noticeable erection.

"Thank you, sweet kitty. I thought I'd give you a nice little surprise today...", your hands run lower on your body and to the back, leaving them on your ass.

Turning around, you bend over to show off exactly what he wants to see. "Would you like your treat now?", you ask as you run your other hand lower towards your already eager pussy. He takes in a breath through his gritted teeth and watches you stand up straight to take off the bra top of the red set. You get on the bed and he turns towards you as you do, never taking his eyes off of you.

"Come get your treat then kitty", you spread your legs as he crashes down on the mattress, panting like a dog in heat. Not waiting another second he brings his hands down to your hips to take off the remaining piece of clothing.

Wooyoung lowers his mouth to your dripping cunt, moaning in delight at finally getting a taste of you. He pushes his tongue in your hole and thrusts it in and out for a bit gathering your wetness on his tongue.

Him moaning into your pussy makes your legs shake and do your best to keep them from shutting around his face. Seeing you you so lost in the feeling of his talented tongue makes him grind his crotch against the mattress, losing himself in the feeling and taste of you on his mouth. He lifts his face for a moment to take a breath.

"I love you so much... my baby, fuck... You taste so good", he buries his face between your legs again, gripping tightly onto your thighs to keep you as close as possible. Lapping at your clit, he groans in satisfaction.

"F-fuck Youngie... You're so g- so good for me", you gather the hair on the back of his head into your hands and guide him even closer to your wet heat, so that he's buried nose deep in you.

The pressure makes him groan into you and the vibrations of his voice in turn make your legs twitch shut around his head for a moment.

"Shit! My good... fuck, good boy! Doing so well for me kitty", your voice shudders, hands gripping his hair harder.

Soon you find yourself craving something more. "Ah, fingers too kitty...", you tell him, desperately needing any part of him in you, craving to be closer to him in any way possible. And just like the good boy he can, he listens to your command immediately.

Going straight for two to properly stretch you for his cock, he pushes them in and scissors them, sucking on your clit at the same time.

He continues to play with your pussy and it doesn't take you long to get close from his skilled hands. In just a couple more moves of his fingers your pussy throbs and you come around them, making you moan his name loudly in pleasure.

You don't wait long to come down, instead you sit up and push him down by his chest and straddle him, running your hands over his smooth skin.

"Wooyoungie... Let me take care of you ok? You'll let me, right?", you coo at him sweetly, seeing his eyes cloud over in ecstasy as your fingers find his sensitive brown nipples.

"Haa- ah! Yeah yeah, please, hah!", he thrashes his head from side to side on the pillow, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. You grind your wet pussy against his hard cock and his whole body jolts under you. He lets out a long wound out moan at the promise of getting to be inside you soon. Finally you take him in your hand, position him under you and start lowering yourself on his dick.

His head tilts back as he groans at the feel of you around him, hands immediately flying to your hips to hold onto anything, as you don't wait to start moving on him. He bucks his hips up towards you and you decide to let him, for the sake of Valentine's day.

You put your hands on the sides of his head and lower your face to his, kissing him with fervour as you keep moving your bodies in tandem.

You move your other hand to his hair again and tug on it, making him whimper. He lets go of your kiss to bare his neck to you and you move your mouth to it to mark him to your liking. Already feeling close after your first orgasm it doesn't take very long to feel it building up again and seeing how Wooyoung can barely contain himself it's obvious he's not that far off either.

"You- ah, you gonna come ki-itty? For me yeah??", you lick along his collar bone and tug hard on his hair.

All that he can let out is a silent scream as he throws his head back further and comes in you, mouthing out something along the lines of 'please, yes, yes god, please!!'.

Seeing his brain shut off in pleasure makes you come around him as well and you stop bouncing on his cock, letting him stay in you as you both come down for your highs together, feeling his cum in you.

"Happy Valentine's my good boy, I love you so much", you kiss him on the lips even if he's barely able to reciprocate, running his hands along your back to ground himself.

You decide to rest with him a bit, not having enough energy to get yourselves clean just yet. For now, you just want to feel him close to you.

Your sweet, caring, thoughtful boyfriend.

#cupid♡writing #sub!idol #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #dividers by cafekitsune

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ominisgoldie · 3 months

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Loving them is like...

Loving Cass is fun. Loving Cass is two am runs for fast food. Loving Cass is jumping into a lake. Loving Cass is wrestling with a friend. Loving Cass is kisses sticky with sugar. Loving Cass is summer. Loving Cass is blood dripping down your sink. Loving Cass is holding him back from fights. Loving Cass is coming second to the training ring. Loving Cass is lukewarm water

Loving Az is cold. Loving az is snowball fights. Loving az is motorcycle rides at night. Loving az is blue light through your curtains in the middle of the Night. Loving az is sex without morals. Loving az is bloody knuckles with hidden secrets. Loving az is the blood on his blade. Loving az is a glass of whiskey on a tired night.

Loving Rhys is exhilarating. Loving Rhys is twists and turns. Loving Rhys is a bouquet of roses. Loving Rhys is finding the darkness blinking back. Loving Rhys is hating yourself, just a little. Loving Rhys is obsidian in your palm, beautiful but sharp enough to cut to the bone. Loving Rhys is the snow under your heels in the city. Loving Rhys is crying, the moon your only witness.

Loving Mor is beautiful. Loving mor is secrets whispered under summer stars. Loving mor is red lipstick on your collar. Loving Mor is the sound of moans mixed with soft music. Loving Mor is finding out that twisted words are not lies. Loving mor is crying in the bathroom, clutching the last bottle of perfume. Loving mor is the first kiss in a romance novel.

Loving Amren is grey. Loving Amren is stormclouds on the horizon. So beautiful, but so ominous. Loving Amren is careful smiles over red wine. Loving Amren is kisses coated in blood. Loving Amren is pearls against a pale throat. Loving Amren is the thrill after a gun goes off. Loving Amren is never quite enough.

Loving Feyre is relaxing. Loving Feyre is not wanting to get out of Bed on a Sunday morning. Loving Feyre is painting together on your porch. Loving Feyre is never having control. Loving Feyre is holding hands with a cloud.

Loving Nesta is intense. Loving Nesta is Sharp black. Loving Nesta is the feeling of riding in a car going so fast you aren't sure it's moving. Loving Nesta is long hair and sharp tongues. Loving Nesta is reaching for something that will self destruct again and again and again. Loving Nesta is crisp nights on the cusp of Autumn and Winter.

Loving Elain is spiraling. Loving Elain is looking over a cliff and falling into the river. Loving Elain is flower gardens that turn out to be Graves. Loving Elain is Burgundy. Loving Elain is calling to the forest, hearing a disembodied voice respond. Loving Elain is knowing you only have a few years to love. Loving Elain is like reaching into wool to find wolf teeth.

Loving Lucien is adventure. Loving Lucien is world maps and suitcases. Loving Lucien is knowing multiple languages. Loving Lucien is warm summer afternoons. Loving Lucien is lovemaking in a field. Loving Lucien is loud laughs over whiskey. Loving Lucien is watching from afar. Loving Lucien is basking in the sun's light, dreading when it shifts.

Loving Tarquin is gentle. Loving Tarquin is the gentle waves lapping on your ankles. Loving Tarquin is watching a bird fly away. Loving Tarquin is kisses under boardwalks. Loving Tarquin is loving the gentle sea, refusing to think of its violent nature. Loving Tarquin is not realizing you are drowning until your lungs begin to hurt

Loving Eris is rough. Loving Eris is getting too close to the fire, but relishing in your burn. Loving Eris is gold on red. Loving Eris is wicked smiles and dry mouths. Loving Eris is fucking in an old Cathedral. Loving Eris is bloodred lipstick smeared over collars. Loving Eris is never going home. Loving Eris is a hard wall to fall back on. Loving Eris is power being hand fed to you.

Loving Jurian is impulsive. Loving Jurian is jumping over walls and climbing trees. Loving Jurian is blades pressed against throats, laughter nicking the skin. Loving Jurian is armor so heavy you almost can't feel eyes burning into you. Loving Jurian is being so good at acting, because neither of you can tell when the other is genuine. Loving Jurian is something you tell yourself is a dream.

#acotar #unedited #headcanons #acotar headcanons #acotar x reader #cassian acotar #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #tarquin acotar #Azriel cotar #rhys acotar #acotar bat boys #acotar mor #feyre archeron #elain archeron

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

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Dating Dream of the Endless Would Include...

Thank you all so much for being so sweet about my last two Dream headcanons, here are the dating ones to complete the set (and also the longest ones)!

Also shock horror I know, but I still have about three episodes of the show left so sorry if this is suddenly very out of character lmao I just love him to the moon and back my petty king

This got much longer than I thought it would oops, so any and all comments are much appreciated!! Thank you ily guys I hope you liked my silly similes lmaoooo

(I do not own the Sandman or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @thekingofkawaii.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Since people seem to love these opening sentences so much and I adore writing them lmao... Dream you pathetic ass cape draping eyeliner scrungle of a wet hissing cat, living for the drama dumbass with the smile of a brick I literally love you in every single way you are impeccable. He’s so stupid bless I want to bonk him with a baguette and give him a big ‘ol hug until he awkwardly shoves me off and mopes away. Well guess what sir, this time you are NOT running away from your feelings you’re happy and in love now biss so guess what you’re getting ALL the fluff ‘cause it’s what y’all deserve.

Dream introduced you to everyone as fellow ruler of his realm pretty much straight after your first kiss (my man intense). As soon as he took you by the hand and led you back to the throne room, his hands settled on your shoulders and turned you to face the erratic shards of the stained glass windows. ‘Everything I have’, you feel him whisper against your ear as soft as mist, ‘everything I am... it is also yours.’ He reaches round to tilt your cheek up, until the back of your head is flush against his chest and he’s able to run his finger down the curve of your neck. ‘If you so wish. I will be yours forever... in both dreams and the waking world. Wherever you need me, or want me. I will be there.’

To be completely honest, too many times he’s been afraid that you’ve still left him, so overwhelmed by everything. All that panic twisting in his gut, only to find you talking over Rose Walker’s dream journal in the library. You’re standing near ear to ear with Lucienne, the two of you bumping fingers and pouring over the contents to understand where exactly her poor brother is, the whole time Mervyn yapping at your side. I mean, they all adore you from the get go: they’ve seen over the last few decades how the mere thought of you has been the only thing stopping Morpheus from spiralling too far into despair. As soon as your feet stepped down onto the whirling sand, you were marked as a pretty integral part of the dreaming, human or not.

Plus, all the ravens that you’ve found encroaching on your roof and landing to hop on your shoulders in the waking world finally make sense. Lucienne was under strict orders to keep an eye on you, to make sure you were safe at all times.

Or you’ll wander off, and Dream will come sauntering away from the palace and down the winding path towards the House of Secrets, knowing from instinct that it’s where he'll find you. That same tide tugs him forwards forward into the suffocating mists, until he emerges in front of a pile of crumbling dirt and sees your smile alight the dusk, as piercing and ruinous as the sun. Goldie is perched upon your shoulder, squawking and sneezing into your eyes from time to time. You just laugh, and the sound is enough to double Dream over in grievous endearment. Abel is sitting by your right, still half-leaning in the pit as he giggles and continues his wild story about the King of Dreams from long ago. You turn around only when you hear a rare chuckle, finally spotting Dream standing with his eyes crossed behind you, and an amused eyebrow raised at you and your friends’ antics.

You expect him to ask you to leave, or to at least lead you inside, but to your surprise he sweeps his coat behind him and takes a seat on the squishing dirt beside you. He doesn’t settle until he feels his knee rest against your own, doesn’t feel comfortable while Abel continues spouting his story, until you take his hand and cradle it in your lap. It’s cold, almost contorted like the first dawn’s mist against your skin, but even now it shakes in your hold. It almost makes you laugh: the mystical, awe-striking, beyond marvel King of Dreams so terrified of loving you that he’s shaking like a barn mouse hiding from the overwhelming world around it. The same man who had spent over one hundred years locked like a Greek statue behind solid glass, only to be finally brought to his knees by the one thing he could never escape: his soul’s serendipity.

Eventually the clouds begin to roll over the stars, as if the sky’s painter had thrown buckets of brown paint over her canvas and left the streaks of ribbed sand to sparkle across the gloominess. Yet the King of Dreams just sits there, still as stone, not even daring to look down at you despite how much fondness tugs him too. Sometime during the night your head has fallen against his shoulder and you’ve fallen asleep against the warmth of his coat. He doesn’t want to move you, until eventually he leans down to kiss your head. He joins you in some of the sweetest dreams he can muster: the two of you lounging out amidst a field of flowers on the eve of spring. The firecracker reds and warm sugar plum violets frame his smiling face and the glimmer in his eyes as he lies admits the reeds, gazing up at you. He begrudgingly allows you to weave daisy petals into his hair, after a while of him running after you through the meadows and picking you up, holding you hostage in his arms until you promise not to tell his family about it.

Speaking of, when you eventually get to meet his sister Death, she loves you just as much (or even more) than her brother does straight away!!! She just immediately wraps you up in a big, excited, squealing, full body hug before tugging you off by the arm and leading you off towards the coastal market. She leaves a very confused and huffy Dream to fend for himself for a while, or perhaps gives him the time to visit his old friend Hob at the New Inn. She leads you to her favourite quaint ice cream parlour, where the two of you spend the afternoon sharing a sundae as siblings do, out on the arching thatch seats. Eventually she squints through the sunlight to look at you a little more seriously. ‘That’s the happiest I’ve ever seen my brother, like... ever I think! Thank you. No, seriously, thank you. He’s had enough time to sulk about, it’s good to see him look himself again.’

You and Dream reconvene in the square and spend the rest of the day feeding his treasured pigeons. He keeps looking at you out of the corner of his eyes with that twitching-lip smirk, with all the stars and constellations in the universe burning in them. He tries to be smooth, stealing a pinch of your baguette and throwing the crumbs at you, just to be able to wipe them off. His slender fingers brush over the pulse point on your neck like butterfly wings flitting over the dawning petals of a blooming rose. Then up to your chin, then gliding upwards till they’re hunched, tracing over the outline of your lips. Your heart fizzes as he leans down to kiss you for the first time ever in public, his frame shadowing you, yet bottom lip so welcoming and caressing as he brushes between your own.

Too often has Lucienne walked into the throne room, only to have to clear her throat to try and get Morpheus’ attention. He has his coat wrapped around the two of you like an inky bat like cocoon, sitting together on his throne as you read through the latest census. He stops every so often out of wild amusement when you gasp and point out a new entity. In pride at how well accustomed you’re becoming to his work that he carefully kisses your forehead and leans his own against it.

When it’s raining he’s the type to look confused at first as to why you’re shivering under your jacket and trying to run under London arches. Eventually it finally clocks in his head and he takes his coat off, holding it over your head during the whole journey to your destination, getting soaked himself by the smacking downpour nonchalantly. It’s a kind of second nature, to protect you, that he doesn’t even bat an eyeliner lined eyelid anymore. It’s innate and as natural, easy to him as dreaming.

Sometimes you’ll find Dream skulking around the palace steps like a disgruntled skunk recently kicked out of a bin, still upset after the events with John Dee. Lucienne and Matthew have attempted every possible solution to talk him out of it, but you’re the only one who can bring him back round. The only presence in any realm that feels more like himself than he does. The only one that understand his every idiosyncrasy, every twitch of his face, until you’re sitting by his side as one entity. He’s too stubborn to ever admit it, but he does indeed like it when you trace your pointer finger down the tip of his nose before tapping twice against his lips as if mockingly chiding him. He always peers down above his bottom lashes with wide, almost crossed eyes as he tries to follow you, but it does ground him again. Eventually, without anything even being said, he groans and jumps up to a stand with a ‘thank you, you’re right... of course... my dream’, and then saunters off again as if he owns the catwalk.

He tries to take you out to visit other dreams, even though you’re still terrified of the waters. He slides his fingers between your own, pulling them up to rest above his heart on the docks. He carefully and calmly talks you through everything that’s about to happen, and how he will be in control of every whiff and whim that could occur. He’s still a dramatic ass though, so before he’s even finished counting down to one he’s pulled you off the decking and into the swirling depths. In the darkness, you grasp onto him like a lifeline as he pulls you further down into the macrocosm than you ever thought possible.

It is worth it though... perhaps after a lot of snuggling and apologies from Dream. You end up in the dreams of young Irish man: one who hopes to become a zoologist after his time at university. You get to enjoy a peaceful night in a canopy beneath the stars, lying side by side with Dream as he points out the constellations that swirl gold like koi fish in the grand pond of the sky. He’s still not quite used to physical touch, which is why he seems to start and flinch back when you wind your arm to rest and rub above his abdomen. He’s spent so long... so so long never really getting much attention, or care from his family, so you’ll have to coax him into realising he can trust and relax in your presence. He does eventually let his guard down after a few hours of cuddles, until he eventually slides to sit up and falls dramatically over your knees. It’s the first time he’s ever allowed you to play with his hair, lying there in the darkness as normal lovers set alight do.

I mean, you’re family, right??? Dream begs you to come along to the family get together dinner (mainly so he can have a sparring partner of equal wit and finally get one up on his sibling Desire). He swaps the placards said sibling placed around the fire-lit table so you’re sitting next to him instead of Delirium. Between meals Dream takes your hand under the table and places it on his knee, stroking his thumb over your palm to try and calm himself down. Desire catches wind (thanks to an eagle eyed Despair), and makes some bitter laced remark with a growl of their lips, flick of their hand and sip of their red wine. This ends up with you lunging for him over the candelabra, with Death barely holding you back and Dream leaning back in his seat with a grin so wide on his face he looks like a smug, satisfied cat lmao

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yourlocaltreesimp · 7 months

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How would the yandere chain react to a violinist reader? Who's REALLY amazing at playing, I'm talking lindsey stirling amazing ( if you don't know her, she is an phenomenal violinist, highly recommend listening to her music on YouTube) reader enchanting the chain as they gracefully dance as they beautifully play, maybe fairies, blubees, and wildlife come to watch, perhaps even satori themselves come to see.

Ohhhh! I love the way you think!

TW: Some obsessiveness on the behalf of the chain, as per usual with yandere requests. I am not a violinist, I used to be a cellist. I am unfamiliar with the most of it as that was a while ago.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You hadn’t fully guessed you’d have missed playing your violin so much. At first, you thought this would be a nice break from intense practicing and balancing life with your talents… but now you weren’t so sure. Nearly seven hyrules in and you’d yet to have found one. But hope was not lost. Falling into Wild pt. 2’s world -Sage for short- was jarring at first, but no changes couldn’t be adapted to. In fact, you’d almost forgotten the new world around you when your eyes caught the lacquered wood of a violin. It didn’t take much convincing, surprisingly. One plead was all it took before ten rupee wallets were out of pockets. After the war of who would pay for it, reminiscent on any family gathering, Sage footed the bill. Much begrudgingly of the others.

Outskirt Stable was quite lovely. Quiet and calm with a beautiful mountain in the near distance, it was a perfect rest stop. And also perfect for a chance to play. You were able to convince the chain into letting you practice alone first before playing for all of them, taking quick paces toward Mount Satori. You didn’t notice the sun dip below the horizon as you kept playing onward and onward until your memory of which string was plucked or where your fingers were supposed to press against the neck inevitably ran short. But it happened less than one would expect. The notes rose and dived like a swallow, nimble and fluid. You let the music carry you as your eye fluttered shut and the ballad embraced you. You were reminded of just how much you loved doing this. When the notes slowed and tapered off, hanging in the air and they drifted away, you opened your eyes. Only to be met with many more staring back. Tiny blue bunnies gathered at your feet. Little eyes baring into you as they chittered, almost if in applause or appreciation. They glowed softly, a calming blue which much reminded you of the music you’d just played. You lifted your violin back up and they all went quiet again, still gathered at your feet. The next turn you played was slow and steady, swelling softly before fading, only to be met with another rise. Like the soft pink sakura blossoms as they fell off the twisted old tree. You disregarded the strong blue glow behind you, presuming more money bunnies sorry i had to had gathered to see the show. But the nudge between your shoulders alerted you otherwise. You allowed yourself a gasp as you finished playing, turning to greet what stood behind you. Now, seeing the small glowing rabbits, while a little alarming, we’re rather cute and wholesome. But this… it was majestic. It held three of the faces from the rabbits, pale and with inquisitive yellow eyes that seemed wiser than any god. But it had the body of a horse, strong and capable. You almost saw it fitting to bow your head to the creature, as it held so much majesty it had to have been of importance. But it instead dipped its head to you, pressing forward so you could place your hand on its mane. It cooed, much like a happy bird, eyes flickering shut. The bunnies chittered among themselves happily. But as lovely as the sight was… you knew you’d be in deep shit. You were already late.

“(y/n)?” You jumped, you’ll admit. Hyrule seemed nearly as alarmed, the rabbits scattering as he pronounced himself and the larger of them -their lord, as you bestowed him- took a few steps back.

“I’m so sorry I-“ You began your apologies, but were cut short.

“No need, c’mon, Let’s go.” He nodded in respect to the lord before gesturing for you to follow… an odd endearing glint in his eye that lacked to be there before. You turned and left, following Hyrule back to the stable.

What you weren’t aware of, however, was the group watching you play the whole time. Hidden one way or another was the whole chain, utterly spellbound by your performance. Sky itching to play with you and adapt the ballads of his time to your violin. Time reminiscing on his time with the kokiri and their love of music… how much they would adore your tunes. Wind wanted to know if you knew any sea shanties. Sage and Wild basked in the music and adored the sight of you and the Lord of Mt. Satori. Legend was jealous of the other rabbits which got to admire you so closely, which held the softness of your attention. It reminded Four of the festivals he used to visit with his grandfather, and Twilight of the ones they held in castle town the ones required he visit. But he’d go to all of them if you were there. But Hyrule? He was captivated. Afterall, faeries bless those good with much talents, revelling with only the best of musicians and artists of the mortal realm, for which you would surly qualify. They all had their reasons for loving you, but that was now tenfold. And you’d get no rest.

#firreplies #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #yandere linked universe #link x you #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #x reader #yandere link x reader #yan!chainxreader #yan!chain #lu sage #yan!sage #fir’s library

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katsheadinclouds · 1 month

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Summer nights, you and I

Lucien Flores x f!plus-size!reader

summary: You explore your feelings for your high school sweetheart, who comes to your birthday party.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, bad communication, mention of drinking, no mention of pronouns for reader but body parts are mentioned, reader wears a dress and has hair, smut, car sex in a public place, unprotected PiV sex (wrap it up folks!). No use of y/n. Not beta read. If I forgot something, let me know!

word count: 3.7k

notes: Happy birthday weekend to me! Yesterday, when I saw the new pictures and videos of one mr. Lucien Flores, my brain got fried, and inspiration hit me. I ended up writing this thing in the middle of the night and thought I’d share it now to celebrate me turning 30!

dividers by saradika-graphics

He watches you mingle in the crowd, eyes following your every move. People talk with him, to him, but the words slip out of his head as soon as he hears them. He watches as you laugh at a joke someone tells you. He watches you listen to someone. He watches the arch of your lips when you answer someone’s question, how your tongue drags over the softness as you wet them before sipping on your drink.

He knows you’re aware of him. He sees it in the way you turn around if you get too close to him. He sees your head twist away after you’ve locked your eyes on him when you think he hasn’t noticed. It’s in the way you pretend to not see him even when you’re facing him, trying to force yourself to stay present in the conversation you’re engaged in.

But every few seconds your eyes drift to watch him past the guest’s face. Your shoulders tense up, you breathe a little deeper, and you try so hard to not let his presence deter you from the deep desire to keep your head straight. You told him that you two can’t keep seeing each other. You told him that repeatedly; every time you came knocking on his door at odd hours of the night, every time you called him to ask if he was free the next weekend, every time you sighed out his name when his mouth was buried between the roundness of your thighs. It was a reflex. A chanting wish to keep yourself from him.

Yet every time you came back, saying the same thing, “we can’t keep seeing each other like this.”

He had looked at you under his brow, ready to indulge you in the orange gloom of the streetlights glowing in through the window. “How do you want to see me then?” He mocked.

He didn’t expect to be pushed on his back, your fingers gently around his throat, your hot palm against his feverish skin, your lips against his ear, “I don’t,” you whispered. Almost like it was an emphasis on your resoluteness, you rose to your knees and guided him into you. Your arousal pooled instantly at the base of his cock when you heard him moaning. He dug his fingers against your ass and helped you ride him until your thighs were burning. Here you were, trying to meet all your guests in the dusky garden you had rented for your birthday party. “I don’t want you there,” you had said when you gave him the invite.

“Then I won’t come there,” he answered. You gave him a long look, your fingers pressed against his before you turned on your heels and left his place before the sun rose.

Here you were, avoiding him at your own party, trying to act nonchalant about the man who you wanted in every way but never wanted to admit it even to yourself. You knew how people saw him. How they’d see you if they knew about you two.

You were always the good one, ready to help, never backing out even in the bleakest situations. People trusted you, and you gave all of them a reason to do that. Lucien on the other hand, he is nothing like you.

He has always been the quiet rebel, the one with the free spirit who sometimes disappears without a word to chase his dreams and wants. Untrustworthy, ready to jump when everyone else expected him to stand still. You can’t accept that he has changed, even when he tries to prove it to you.

You knew you couldn’t get attached like you had when you two were teenagers, with heated cheeks and coy smiles. Back then you were shy and your hands always shook when you wanted to touch him. Even if it was just to hold his hand or to push his unruly curls off his eyes.

The kisses back then were timid, full of nerves, when either of you weren’t used to having someone so close yet. The teenage romance ended before it even had a chance to properly start. He left and you stayed. Your tears were never ending, they dried out your soul. The hope for feeling like you had someone you could trust to stand with you, to have someone in your corner, withered away. It was by accident when he saw you again. At a coffee shop on a busy Tuesday morning. He could recognize your voice from a mile away and the smile in your eyes when you thanked the barista for your coffee. And the curve of your lips that you licked with the tip of your tongue before you took a sip.

He didn’t know if he should call out for you or let you go. He did neither. He was on his feet before he had the chance to decide, and stood in your way as you were heading outside with your takeout cup, smiling at something on your phone. You almost crashed into him, barely catching yourself before you spilled your coffee on his chest.

“Excuse me,” the annoyance was palpable, but when you looked up and saw his face, the realization hit you like a train.

“Lucien,” you half whispered with wide eyes in the full coffee shop. He was so close he could smell the mint in your breath from your toothpaste.

“Long time no see,” his mouth found a crooked smile and you gasped out a laugh, not believing that he was standing in front of you, not knowing what to do next. It wasn’t forbidden. The love he feels for you, or the love you feel for him. You’re protecting yourself, he knows that. You don’t want to feel like you’ve lost something when he decides to leave again. You don’t want to find yourself alone again. You don’t want to feel like you’ve been abandoned again.

You were inseparable for a while. He was a lifeline for you when you felt most lonely, without friends and belonging in any group that had formed at school. He was a friend, first and foremost, then your first love.

By the end of it he was nothing when he followed his dad to another state one summer. So, you keep telling him that you can’t meet anymore. That it’s not wise to see each other anymore. That this is the last time, before you come back again and tell him the same things again and again. “Happy birthday,” he finally finds you alone by the drinks table, catching your breath after all the socializing and meaningless conversations with people you’ve collected throughout the years to make yourself a safety net that has holes in it. You had said it yourself, “I don’t belong with these people, I don’t know why I think they’re my friends.”

“Thank you,” your quiet voice trembles when you face him and look at him deep in his eyes.

“I have something —,” he begins, but is cut off by the other people who burst into explosive laughter. The sound is a mix of joyful and horrifying at the same time, too loud yet held back.

“Come,” he takes your hand and pulls you away towards the gates of the garden, getting further from the party and the droning chatter with every step. You hold onto his hand with your fingers twined with his and let him take you anywhere he wants.

He opens the doors of his car but pulls you to his chest before pushing your back against the side of the ride. Your hands reflexively reach for his shoulders and drag him in. Your hungry mouth is about to repeat your script but gets distracted by his lips and the wet glide of his tongue against yours. “What were you about to say out there?” You groan when he sucks at the soft flesh right under your jaw.

“That I have something for you,” the low murmur of his voice makes shivers run down your spine. Your hands don’t shake anymore when you reach for his kisses, when you reach for his belt and pant against his mouth when the now familiar feeling of his tongue fills your mouth. Smoothly he reaches behind your back and pulls the door open, leading you to the backseat. The pleasant mildness of the night feels scorching in the closed car. The windows are fogged up and your hand is slipping against the glass when he buries himself snuggly into you. Your breath catches in your throat every time he reaches that place deep inside you. He makes you discover the fine line between pleasure and pain with every stroke.

He’s careful with it, making sure you never cross that line to painful but teeter on the brink of it. Who would’ve guessed you’d be getting fucked in Lucien’s car by the end of the night, sweat pouring out of your pores, feeling spread open and the intense pleasure with every stroke of his cock in the tightness of your pussy, electrifying your spine and travelling in waves up and down your back. He licks at the side of your neck, a long stripe from your collarbone up to your jaw. He plants soft kisses along it until he reaches your lips. Slowly he lifts himself up to look at you, hovering over you.

His arms are like a cage on either side of you, your leg trapped against his arm. If you were to straighten it, your toes would tickle the dark lining on the roof of the car. The chains around his neck sway with every thrust, all ending up tickling the centre of your chest. You reach for them and wrap them once around your finger.

“I want you to be rough,” you tell him. He looks at you, the seriousness in your eyes. He’d like to wipe away your fears, your need to push him away while simultaneously pulling him in. He considers it, giving you what you ask for. But it’s only part of the script you’ve written in your head to feel better if he were to leave again.

“No,” he says and leans down, touching his lips feather light against yours. He rocks down and watches you take a deep breath. He feels you pulse around his cock, adjusting to the slow invasion. “I’ll give you rough when you believe when I say I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.” He sees your resolve crumble immediately. You’ve been caught, you both know it. You’ve kept yourself from feeling anything for Lucien while feeling so much for him at the same time, so much so that it has turned overwhelming. Your protection has turned into self-sabotage when he’s the one reaching out while he watches you build even higher walls around yourself.

He moves slow, almost pulling out completely, before pushing back in with a slow roll of his hips, until his pelvis is flush against yours and another breath is drawn out of your lungs. You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, your fingers winding around the curls at the base of it, forcing him to hold his forehead against yours. The chains slip from your hand and hang loose once again. They tap against your chin with every little move he makes.

“I want to hear it,” his voice rumbles and buzzes in your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, while he demands your attention with the push of his hips. The arm that was supporting your leg at the bend of his elbow suddenly secures the sole of your foot against the passenger seat while your ankle presses against the center console.

You open your eyes just as you feel his fingers slip between your legs, his thumb finding your slicked clit without much trouble like he has mapped out how you like to be touched. He gathers even more of your wetness from around his cock and circles the sensitive nerve endings in sweet circles, making your eyes roll back into your head and your back arch off the leather seats.

“Tell me,” he demands softly, bringing you back from losing yourself to the pleasure. He doesn’t stop touching you, only slows down the circles, just like he slows down his thrusts to be a continuous movement, in and out, keeping your pleasure on high alert and your orgasm ever present, but not letting it take you away from him, not just yet.

“What?” You gasp out when he once again reaches deep, tilting his hips up.

“Tell me you believe I’m not going, and I’ll give you rough.” You moan out at the feel of his thumb suddenly losing pressure for it to only move up and down against your clit.

The words are on your tongue, catching the humidity of his breath. You’d want to believe him, you’d love to believe him. But you can’t.

You know this isn’t the first time he’s back in the city. He has come and gone many times, and you’ve only heard about it afterwards, when he’s long gone already. And every time, even when you hadn’t seen him, it had reminded you of how he left when you were still a couple of kids, trying to navigate the world that seemed too big and too small at the same time.

You’d want to tell him you believe him. You’d want to have enough faith in yourself to not break apart when he will eventually leave. You’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now, but the fear is still there, only growing stronger. You wait for the moment, when he’s just gone.

You force yourself to look at him in the eye, to see the dark pleading in them. To believe him. He sees the same in yours. To not hurt you. He shoves himself in you and holds the tears in your eyes with heartbreak in his.

He gets it. There’s nothing he can do, or say, to make you change your mind about him. He pushes himself up and runs his large hand down your soft side, his thumb tracing the line of your bra under your breast.

You brace yourself for what he’s about to do when your request from earlier hangs heavily in the humid air between the two of you. His eyes rake down your clothed front, sees the budding bruises of his mouth right by the edges of your bra. Your dress, which he hiked up to your waist, has gathered the few drops of sweat that have dripped down from his face.

Last, his eyes fixate on the gleam of your lips around his length, how he still hasn’t stopped the push and pull of his hips, drawing out more and more of your slick. He thumbs at where you’re joined, earning a groan from you that invites him closer to cumming. It’s your final warning for what’s to come.

The air smells of sex, heady and thick. He grinds his teeth together and breathes deep. His thighs are on fire from kneeling between your legs for so long. Some of the seams on the seats chafe against his legs.

“Just do it,” you cry out. Your voice isn’t only asking for him to take you however he pleases. You’re pleading for him to do what you expect from him. To take what he wants, and to leave.

Without waiting any longer, he digs his fingers into your hip, squeezes the supple roundness of your bottom and slams himself into you, starting a ruthless rhythm. You scream out before you manage to cover your mouth with your hands. You breathe harshly between your fingers while he takes and takes, forcing you to gasp out your moans.

It's too much, his hold, his thumb on your clit, the thickness of him between your legs, in you, his grunts and heavy breaths that intoxicate you. You love to hear his voice when he’s close. It’s the most erotic sound you could ever think of. You record it in your mind, only to repeat to yourself when you know thinking about these moments together won’t cause too much pain.

He does this thing where he reaches deep inside you, presses his whole length against the squishy, most sensitive parts of your flesh, and uses it with abandon. You can’t hold in your moans behind your hands anymore; the sound only turns into whimpering screams.

He doesn’t stop. He’s giving you what you wished. Your birthday wish. He abuses the softness of your pussy repeatedly. He forces your palms off your mouth and wraps his hand around them to push them against the door so you can scream your pleasure into his mouth.

Your blissful climax topples you off your awareness. There’s only Lucien, guiding you through your orgasm with slowing thrusts when you squeeze around him. He gasps into your mouth and licks into it, against your tongue, and lets you ride it out, but he doesn’t stop.

He listens to your whines and makes them the sound that encourage him to cum. With weak arms you fight his hand off yours, and wrap them around him, the other under his silky shirt, the other in his thick, damp curls.

You kiss him with newfound fervor, barely hanging on to your rationality while he makes you forget yourself in the intense pleasure. Pins and needles run up and down your skin, it’s almost painful.

“Let go for me, Lucien, cum for me,” you manage to mumble against his lips. He gives out a ragged moan when the grind of his hips stutters. His whole body trembles. Sweat pours down his temples, down his neck, and his chest glistens in the half light of the hidden parking lot with a blush that has crept up to his cheeks.

He catches his breath against your neck with shuddering exhales, his moans heating your skin. You massage the back of his neck and allow yourself to close your eyes. You imagine what it would be like to let him love you, to let yourself relax without any uncertainty. You’re still split open by him, and if you could, you wouldn’t mind staying like this for longer.

Lucien opens the door and lets the cooling night air slip into the car. You push yourself up and with shaky fingers try to close the buttons that will hide the hickeys he left on your breasts.

He leans his head back against the headrest. He pushes his hand through his drying curls, leaving them tousled. You try your best to make your hands stop shaking, but they don’t. It almost seems like it’s getting worse.

“Let me,” he whispers, and you’re met with his quietness as he reaches towards you and steadily fastens the small buttons, covering your skin.

“Lean back,” he tells you and you do as he wishes. He gets something off the floor, which you recognize as the lace of your panties. He maneuvers them on you, and up your legs until you have to push your hips up and you replace his hands with yours. He sees the mess between your legs, his cum that is slicking the insides of your thighs.

“Was this what you wanted to give me?” You ask, almost hopeful that he’ll say yes. He looks up as he lifts his own hips to pull his trousers back up the rest of the way, closing the button right under the softness of his belly.

He shakes his head once and accompanies it with a chuckle. His eyes stay the same, rich and admiring, serious and playful at the same time. He buttons up his shirt while you put space between the two of you.

Suddenly, even after all the times you’ve fucked, you’re nervous. You don’t like to feel vulnerable around him, when it only means that you’re putting yourself at risk.

“No,” he finally says and reaches for the center console between the two front seats. Inside is a small box that he hands to you.

“Happy birthday.” It comes out so much deeper than it did before, full of the remains of his lust for you. You take the box and manage to get it open.

“It reminded me of you,” he says when you see a small, dark green gemstone pendant on a thin chain. You swallow against the dryness of your throat and touch it with the tips of your fingers.

“Let me,” he tells you softly and takes the box from you. You turn your back to him and close your eyes to fight the tears that are threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

The chain feels cool at first, but then burning hot when he closes the lock behind your neck and traces the metal against your skin. You turn back towards him and look at the gem between your fingers. Even in this faint light you can discover vivid red flakes on the surface.

“Thank you,” you reach for him and close him inside your arms. He buries his face against your neck and kisses it, the chain pressing between his lips and your skin.

“Want to go back?” He asks and with a trembling sigh you separate from him. You let him pull you out of the car and to your feet.

He straightens your clothes. The dress you chose to wear just because you knew he’d like it on you and which you hoped he’d take off you. He brushes his thumbs under your eyes and over your forehead and combs his fingers through your hair to make you look at least somewhat like you weren’t just fucked in someone’s car. The fresh air clears your head. It cools the deep burning in your chest and the dripping cum in your panties. It lets you close your heart from him again.

“Yes,” you say and lead him back towards the party, while you’d want to turn around, get back into his car and ask him to drive you away from here. He could take you anywhere, and you wouldn’t say no.

#lucien flores x reader #lucien flores x f!reader #lucien flores x female reader #lucien flores x you #lucien flores x f!plus-size!reader #lucien flores x plus-size!reader #lucien flores smut #lucien flores fic #lucien flores fanfic #lucien flores fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #katsheadincloudswrites #summer nights you and I

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bornagainmurdock · 11 days

Text

to savior // matt murdock

Matt was asleep within seconds on the other side of the bed when you both went to bed last night. He hadn't stirred or moved the whole night, sleeping well perhaps for the first time in his life. You hadn't gotten much sleep though. Eyes still watching the ceiling above you shimmer in the subsiding moon. His snores filled in the silence of early morning. The sun had not yet begun to rise, but soon enough that and you alarm would find you already awake.

He was too far off in dreamland to realize that you were anxiously shifting every few minutes, trying desparately not to wake him up accidentally. Matt wasn't a deep sleeper, but when he was as exhausted as he was right now, it was almost impossible to disturb him.

That was until you turned to face him and found yourself staring him right in the eyes, opened and relatively alert. Matt shuffled under the covers raising a hand to your face, brushing your cheek softly.

He yawned and without a word, placed a kiss on your forehead as a gesture of solidarity for your lack of sleep. He had spent many nights like this watching you sleep soundly next to him wanting an escape from the conciousness that tormented him.

"Go back to sleep Matt."

"No, lemme take care of you."

"Matt."

He wouldn't budge, already moving your bodies together for you head to rest on his shoulder, arm around you and legs twisting together.

It was rare for you to both be awake at this time of day, sun rolling over the horizon making its way into view. Matt couldn't see it, but he could feel its warmth glaze his skin.

As the sun rose Matt kept you company, kissing your forehead every now and then, listening to your heart fluttered each time.

"You know you didn't have to stay up with me."

"I know, but I wanted to savior the morning with you. Not often we have time to just be here together."

#matt murdock fluff #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfic #fluff

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64yrsold · 5 months

Text

TOOTIME !

“Wake up,” I swatted his shoulder in the dark, gasping, “Wake up, wake up!”

“Wh—“ he groaned, the outline of him turning towards me.

“I’m gonna puke, I’m—“ I clasped a hand over my mouth, my stomach turning to stone. He shot out of bed, furiously rustling through the bathroom. He returned with the garbage bin, thrusting it into my hands. I clutched it, hands trembling, mouth watering, eyes squeezed shut. But nothing.

“I’m alright,” I groaned, throwing the bin aside and laying back down in bed. He sighed, sitting beside me and flicking on the lamp.

“Fuck!” We both screeched, assaulting the lamp as we tried to turn it off. He managed to find the switch, both of us sighing in relief.

“Do you feel…” I started.

“Like Death himself?” He nodded, clearing his throat. The bed seemed to be throwing my body in circles, my mind stuck in the spin cycle of this hangover. He scrubbed the back of his hand against his eye, yawning.

“I only had,” I paused, counting drinks on my fingers. I gasped quietly when I ran out of fingers.

“You were obliterated,” he laughed, closing his hands around mine.

“So were you!” I muttered defensively, letting him kiss my forehead as he crawled into bed beside me.

“Yeah,” he stroked my cheek sweetly, “but I didn’t try to take my clothes off in the taxi home.”

I looked at him, jaw open, “No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did,” he giggled, writhing and pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. Mocking me.

I squinted, “You’re still wearing your dress pants!”

“Oh, shit,” he said between laughs, unbuckling his belt.

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, “Did I embarrass myself?”

“You, darling?” He threw his pants across the room, “You could never make a fool of yourself.”

“Oh, you liar,” I hit his shoulder, “What did I do?”

“I’m serious! You were a perfect lady last night.”

“Fuck off,” I whined, grabbing his shirt in my fist, “Tell me what I did!”

He licked his lips, his face becoming clearer as the sun gently rose behind him. I hoped the morning light would cure the nausea.

“Should we re-enact it?”

“God,” I squeezed my eyes shut, cheeks already bright red.

“Oh, baby,” he squeaked, imitating my voice, “Take me home, baby.”

“Ew, ew!” I giggled as he moved to straddle my waist, putting his hands on my collarbones, “I didn’t say that.”

He kissed my cheek, “Oh, you look so handsome, let’s fuck right here in front of everyone, let’s fuck in the alley, let’s fuck in the car—“

“I didn’t say that!”

He smirked, “God, I need you so bad!” He riddled my neck with kisses, his stubble stinging my skin.

“What happened when we got out of the car?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t kiss and tell,” he shrugged, biting at my earlobe. His breath was hot at my jaw, stuttering my heart.

“You can tell if I was the one you kissed!” I laughed, exasperated.

He grinned down at me, pulling his shirt off slowly.

“Oh, baby,” he mocked me again, “I’m gonna fuck you all night.” He tossed his shirt at my face, and I flung it across the room with a laugh.

He brought his lips on mine— likely more carefully than I had been last night— gently pressing into me until my head was syrupy and sluggish. I felt my heart slow into a heavy, pretty rhythm, matching with his as he licked at my bottom lip.

He shifted, letting me wrap my legs around his hips. I swallowed the quiet moans from his mouth, feeling the sun pry at our twisted skin. I held his jaw, feeling it move and flex; taut, muscle and bone. I could feel the words at the tip of my tongue, I need you so bad. I let my hands slip over his chest, thumbs skimming his waistband, sucking his bottom lip harshly.

His mouth went limp.

I blinked.

A tiny snore fell from his lips, still pressed to mine. I smiled against him, stifling a giggle.

“That’s what happened?” I pushed him back, his smile wider than mine.

He nodded, curls bouncing on his forehead, “Fell asleep right on top of me.”

“God,” I laughed, winding my fingers in his hair, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Don’t apologize,” he popped a kiss on my cheek, laying down beside me, “Best sleep I’ve ever had.”

“Shut up,” I kissed him, then tucked my head under his chin. He wrapped his arms over my shoulders, pulling me tight to his chest. We slept, the sun streaming in around us.

#a silly one!#matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #Spotify

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impala-dreamer · 2 months

Text

Cherry Wine

A Tale from the 'My Bloody Valentine' Universe

~Tom left town in a hurry, escaping capture by faking his death. On the run and distraught, he finds comfort in the arms of a stranger.~

Tom Hanniger x Rose (OFC)

2,453 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Sexual Scenes. Torture. Bondage. Psychosis. Movie Level Blood and Gore.

A/N: Written for @jacklesversebingo "Be good for me and I'll untie you."

This takes place immediately after the film and shows Tom still dealing with his issues, namely murder. If you're unfamiliar with the movie, I doubt it will matter. Just know that he is insane and dangerous. Hope you enjoy!

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he couldn't go home.

He didn't even know where home was anymore. Was it back in Harmony surrounded by memories and the corpses of his childhood? Or back in the hospital with all of his twisted pain and overly medicated thoughts?

He didn't know.

So he drove.

He drove until the sun rose and hung high in the sky, blossoming over the Pennsylvania landscape like the face of God. Bright and warm, it beat down on the maroon truck as trees blurred in his peripheral.

When the gas tank was as empty as his stomach, he pulled off of the interstate and parked, taking only his wallet and jacket with him.

The late afternoon was warm. February had been uncharacteristically mild, and he tugged at the collar of his sweatshirt, readjusting the hood behind his head.

Bill’s Diner was open and crowded. Tables lined the big front window, each red vinyl booth filled with locals who chatted over never-ending cups of coffee and plates of over-done french fries.

A little bell rang overhead as he walked in, and a pretty brunette with long hair pulled back into a tight bun smiled.

“Sit anywhere, hun,” she called to him while navigating the sea of tables with her hands full.

Tom nodded and looked around for an empty spot before deciding on a stool at the counter. He sat and slumped forward, clasped his hands on the sticky linoleum. He stared at his hands, willing the trembling to cease, but it never really went away. He was always just a little bit anxious, some part of him always shaking even if no one else saw.

Trauma had slashed at his soul and the scars ran deep.

A deep breath steadied him and Tom looked up as the waitress came into view.

“Hey there. Welcome to Bill’s. Can I getcha something to drink?”

Her smile was captivating. Her two front teeth were adorably bigger than the rest and her plump bow lips were tinted gently with a red gloss that made them look forever wet.

He couldn’t help but stare.

She blinked and looked away, pale skin blushing a soft pink under his gaze. Bright blue eyes gleamed when she turned back and Tom’s chest ached.

She reminded him of Sarah but a little plainer, a little softer all over.

“Hello?”

She waved a hand in front of his face and Tom startled, sitting up straight and shaking his head to clear his vision.

“Sorry,” he said with a sigh. “Long drive.”

The waitress nodded and grabbed a mug from below the counter. “I bet.” She filled it with coffee and slid it to Tom who smiled and closed his hands around the cup. “You coming or going?”

He bit his lip, wondering how to answer. Where was he coming from? Where was he going? To hell, probably.

Tired green eyes swept over her. The plastic buttons on her white shirt were tiny and struggling to keep the thin fabric from pulling open across her breasts. Her dark jeans were tight and dusted with flour and a few drops of marinara that had slipped past her black apron. Her curves were decadent and she smelled like vanilla.

He cleared his throat. “Just passing through.”

She smiled kindly and laid a plastic covered menu next to his coffee.

“Well, alright then, stranger. My name’s Rose. When you’re ready, just holler.” She winked and turned away, leaving him to scan the day’s specials alone.

The giant clock in the corner ticked the hours away. Customers came and went. Coins were dropped; tips were thin. Empty plates smeared with ketchup stacked up in the kitchen; spilled salt was wiped from table tops with a dingy rag.

Rose was busy most of the evening, but never too busy to stop back at the counter and talk with Tom. She lingered near him, pretending to clean while they chatted about how it hadn’t snowed in a few weeks and how the price of gas was going down a bit. She was sweet and Tom liked being near her. She was beautiful and her voice was like a calm breeze that lulled and comforted him.

When the windows were dark and the fuchsia neon glowed bright, Rose set her hands on the counter and looked down at him.

“Closing time, buddy. You don’t have to go home, butcha can’t stay here.”

He looked up through thick lashes and smiled flirtatiously. “Already?”

Rose licked her lips. “Sadly, yes. All good things must come to an end. Or so I’m told.”

“That’s a shame.” Without looking away, he drained the sweet swill from the bottom of his mug. “There any place to get a drink around here?” He paused, calculating her interest, and then went for it. He had nothing to lose. “Or maybe I could walk you home…”

Rose’s cheeks burned and her smile was impossible to hide. “Maybe both.”

Tom rolled onto his back and stretched, rolling his head on his shoulders and taking a deep breath. He hadn’t slept so well in a long time; hadn’t felt so good in forever.

Rose had been just what he needed.

They sat on her cinnamon couch and drank sparkling pink wine. Tom hated it, but the bubbles felt nice and each sip seemed to loosen her up a bit more.

When the bottle was empty and the glasses drained, Rose scooted closer and set her hand on Tom’s knee. He bit his lip as her fingers climbed higher, held his breath as she palmed his dick through his jeans, let his eyes close as she climbed into his lap.

She was heavy and warm. He ran his hands down her sides, slid his fingers around the curve of her waist. She pressed her ass down over him and rolled her hips.

He hissed at the friction and pushed a hand through her long hair, dragging her down for a kiss.

Her lips were plump and delicious. The gloss on her mouth tasted so familiar to him but he couldn’t place it.

“I never do this,” she whispered, half laughing as she ran her hands down his chest.

Tom grinned and traced the soft flesh above her jeans. “I don’t know, you’re pretty good at it.”

She chewed her lip and blushed. “I mean, take customers home. I haven’t done this in forever.”

He stared deep into her eyes and popped the bottom button of her shirt. “Well, I’m glad you decided to.” He scraped his nails down her sides and Rose’s head tipped back, her eyes fluttered shut, she hummed lustfully.

“Me too…”

He smiled and tossed the sheet off of himself; sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face. He’d have to shave soon, but it wasn’t a priority. He scratched at his scalp and yawned.

“Mornin’.”

Tom sucked a strawberry nipple between his lips and melted at the sound she made. Rose arched her back, pushing her tits against his face and grinding down on his cock.

They were mostly naked, shirts and jeans tugged away and tossed into random corners of the small living room. Only thin fabric separated them now, and Tom rubbed his middle finger against her covered slit. Her raspberry panties were soaked.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Rose nibbled on his ear. “Wanna see the bedroom?”

He jerked his hips, bounced her in his lap. “Absolutely…”

The bedroom was flooded with mid-day sun that filtered through the thin curtains, and he stood up in a sun puddle, feeling the warmth instantly. He sighed and walked to the adjoining bathroom.

The tile floor was freezing and he tiptoed in, pulled back the shower curtain and turned on the tap.

“You don’t mind if I take a quick shower, do you?”

She was total perfection.

Stretched out over the bed, her pale skin looked like fresh cream against the burgundy sheets. She moaned as he tied the silken sash tight around her left wrist, squirmed as he leaned over her to secure the right.

“Another thing I never do,” she teased, reaching with her mouth to catch a kiss.

“What’s that? Let a stranger tie you up?” His smile was devilish yet sweet and he gave in to a deep kiss.

“Not exactly a safe thing to do…”

He licked into her mouth; savored the taste of her. “No,” he laughed, pulling back to look down at her. “It’s really not.”

Blue eyes fluttered as Tom drew his hands down her nakedness. He cupped each breast, pinched her nipples, scraped his teeth against the stiff buds.

“Fuck, you’re driving me nuts,” she whimpered, tugging at the restraints, needing to touch him.

He settled between her thighs, his broad shoulders pushing them open wide. “That’s kinda the point.”

His tongue burned like fire against her clit. He nuzzled into her, lapped at her slick heat, teased her to the edge of ecstacy.

Rose bucked her hips into his handsome face, held her breath as he slipped two thick fingers inside. Her body tensed. Her mind blanked. Her pulse quickened.

“Fuck. Please…”

Again, she tugged at the sashes holding her tight and Tom lifted his eyes. He grinned at her struggle.

“Be good for me,” he breathed, “and I’ll untie you.”

Heavy, warm steam filled the room as Tom lingered by the sink. He toyed with her toothbrush, sifted through her medicine cabinet. There wasn’t much inside and everything was expected. Floss, antibiotic ointment, a few hairpins. Half a bottle of aspirin, tweezers, lotion.

He smiled. Her skin was so soft.

He slipped in like a knife through warm butter, filling her up with his thick cock.

Tom thrust against her; dug his fingertips into the soft flesh above her hip bones. “Fuck, you’re amazing,” he moaned, his eyes closed, head thrown back as her body tightened around him.

Rose held her breath, wriggling harder beneath him with each jerk of his hips.

“Please!”

He looked down at her wet, ruby lips and smiled. Leaning down, he folded her nearly in half and scratched hard down her sides. She squirmed and garnet lines erupted in his wake.

“So gorgeous…”

His pace quickened. She moaned loudly over the sound of his thighs slapping against her ass.

“Please!”

Each scream egged him on. Every twist of her body beneath him made his heart race.

Rose was panting, choking on her pleasure as he fucked deep into her.

“Tom-”

He closed a hand around her delicate throat, massaged the sacred arteries on either side.

She thrashed against the bindings; eyes wide and lips growing pale.

He squeezed harder and he felt her cunt pulse as she came. Blue eyes were fading in a sea of wine, blood vessels bursting as his grip tightened.

“That’s it,” he grit, riding her through the pleasure. “Just like that. Fuck!”

Tom closed the cabinet door. He swept away the fog with his palm and looked into his own eyes. He was happy, sated and beaming.

His lips were ruddy and swollen a deep red. He pressed his fingertips to them and sighed. He could still feel her kiss, taste her on his tongue.

She tasted like cherry wine.

He kissed her gently yet deeply, memorizing the feel of her plush lips against his and the way she melted into him. His cum ran down her leg, warm and messy.

He pulled away and rolled onto his side, yanked the thin sheet up around his shoulders.

She slept soundly; he mumbled in his sleep.

Tom stepped into the hot water and moaned happily. The pressure was sublime. Water pounded his aching muscles, burned his skin blissfully.

He ran his hands through his hair and turned around to face the spray. It washed down his cheeks, flowed into his mouth. He looked down at the drain and gasped as a whirlpool of crimson swirled around the chrome and disappeared.

“The fuck?”

His mind raced.

His hands were stained with dried blood; his forearms scored with claw marks.

He panicked, panting as the water washed the night away and his memory returned.

He ripped through her skin like a knife through warm butter.

Tom jabbed the blade into her; dug the tip into the soft flesh above her hip bones.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he growled, green eyes wide as he watched the blood flow from her sides.

Rose gasped for a breath and wrenched her arms free of the silk sashes. She slapped at his chest, shoved his face away.

“Please!”

He looked down at her gaping ruby lips and smiled. With a murderous gleam in his eyes, he scratched hard down her side with the knife and watched the garnet stream erupt in his wake.

“So gorgeous…”

She kicked at him, summoning all of her strength to push him off even as her energy seeped away and soaked into the sheets. “Please!”

Each scream egged him on. Every twist of her body beneath him made his heart race and his cock twitch.

Barely able to breathe, Tom burst from the shower and steadied himself on the sink, knuckles blanching as he held on tight. He forced himself to look at his reflection and nearly broke as he saw the lingering blood on his cheeks. The splatter had been fast and furious- an arterial spray that painted his face from temple to chin.

“Fuck…”

He closed his left hand around her delicate throat, harshly pinching the sacred arteries on either side.

Rose clawed at his arms, drawing blood as she fought for her life.

He squeezed harder and felt her pulse slow. Blue eyes were fading in a sea of wine, blood vessels bursting as his grip tightened.

“That’s it,” he grit, lifting the knife to her jaw. “Just like that.” He sliced through her vocal chords, silencing her cries forever. A sanguine tide covered her milky breasts, stained his steady hands.

Through a cloud of steam, Tom stumbled back into the bedroom and bit back a scream.

Rose was laid out on the right side of the bed, her naked body posed as if sleeping. Her throat was torn, her sides split, chest carved open exposing the pale bones caging her heart.

He swallowed down a wave of bile and fell to his knees.

“Not again…”

Above the bed, drawn in Rose’s blood, was a simple heart.

Tom laughed as the last bit of life drained from her beautiful face. He bent to kiss her cold lips, savoring the last taste of her, memorizing the soft push of her lips.

He licked the blood from his fingertips as he rolled over, tired and sated.

She tasted like cherry wine.

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