#seriously contemplating making a blog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hrryshoney · 1 month

Text

only angel

gynecologist!matty healy x reader

A/N: the ppl voted and my blog is a democracy. i’ve written a couple blurbs abt this but here is the full fic :) i love this freak nasty man so here u guys go. (also, don’t like it? don’t read it! ;)) abt 3.6k words. also ty to my friends molly, olive, and josie for helping me out w bits and pieces of this. ily guys @think0fmehigh @automaticllamacycle @ilwysleep

warnings: smut 18 +, breeding kink, cum play, degradation, praise, size kink, corruption kink, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), fingering, a lil oral (fem receiving), light choking, light spanking (once across the face, completely consensual), masturbation w toy (f!), mean dom!matty, use of Bunny, maybe petplay if u squint, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, lots more this is filthy etc..

You felt restless. Matty was at work, and you were home clenching your thighs together. You didn't have a class today, and so that meant no distractions either. You were ovulating, and your body was making sure you knew that fact.

Matty had left you aching this morning. Riling you up on purpose. Lingering touches on your thighs, caressing your bare skin. He didn’t listen to your whines or pleas, condescendingly reminding you that he has ‘important work to do, more important than getting you off.’ So, you lay in bed tossing and turning. Waiting for Matty’s return, however pathetic that sounds.

And time seemed to drag, nothing working as an efficient distraction. Every time you turned in bed, you swore you could smell Matty's scent each time. You couldn't find a comfortable position, and you were seriously contemplating going back to sleep. There was no reason for you to be awake anyway. Not when you had to just wallow here.

You would touch yourself. Slip your hand down under the waistband of your panties, rubbing your clit until you cum over your own fingers. But, you did make a promise. A promise to Matty this morning that you would be a good girl and wait for him to get home from work. That if you did wait, he would reward you.

You were on the brink of insanity, to disobey him or not? You didn't think you could, so you let your eyes flutter shut. Falling back into a state of light sleep, the white noise of the fan lulling you into a dream that you weren't going to remember when you woke up.

...

You woke up the same way you went to sleep, a dull ache between your legs. Grinding your teeth together, you threw the covers off your hot body and made your way to the bathroom. You were happy your boyfriend had a master bedroom with an attached bathroom, it made everything easier. You reached for your toothbrush, catching your reflection in the mirror. And, maybe you did look a little desperate. But who could blame you? It was really Matty's fault.

After you brushed your teeth, you decided you would take a cold shower. If nothing could snap you out of the state you were in, surely this would. You reached in, turning the handle to the coolest setting. Grabbing two towels and hanging them over the glass, stepping into the shower.

Even being in the ice cold shower for at least 20 minutes was no help. Images of you and Matty in the shower together came flooding back, only making you clench your thighs together more. How he would squeeze your hips if he was here, pressing you up against the glass and moving to get between your legs.

You shook your head as if trying to rid yourself of the thoughts. Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped one of the towels around your body. Opening the door to the bedroom, you walked to Matty's dresser and took one of his old band tees out. You threw it on after drying yourself off, along with a pair of simple white panties that had a small bow on the front. The pair you had worn when you first met him, you smiled at the thought.

After that, you crawled back into bed. You really had nothing to do. No work to catch up on, no shows to watch, and nothing to focus on. Your attention still lingering on the way your cunt throbbed under the fabric of your panties. You tried to remind yourself, listen to your promise.

But weren't promises made to be broken, anyway? You reasoned with yourself. You knew Matty. You knew that even his punishments could be taken as rewards. You knew that he could never do anything too bad to you. So, break the rules you did.

You tried to lose yourself in the pleasure, fingers working yourself as you shut your eyes tightly. But they didn't hit the same spots that Matty's did. And they never felt the same. Then, you remembered. You remembered the toy Matty had bought you so you could use it together. The one he kept in a shoebox in his closet, along with the other toys you two would frequently use.

You got up from the bed, searching for the black box on the floor of Matty's closet. Finding it almost immediately, taking the lid off and searching for the toy. A dildo that was almost as big as him, the next best thing if he wasn't there for you. Not that it felt nearly as good, but it sufficed when you were desperate like this.

Walking the familiar journey, you lied back down on the bed. The cold sheets making goosebumps raise on your arms. Matty's scent completely enveloped you now that you had his shirt on. You ran your hands over your own body teasingly. You knew you didn't have to do much to prep yourself, you've been ready all day.

You let your fingers slide under the band of your panties, tracing your slit. You were already so wet, moaning quietly as your finger bumped your clit. You moved the fabric to the side, beginning to get impatient with yourself. Your fingers swirled around your entrance, collecting the slick that was dripping from you and bringing it up to your clit.

You rubbed circles on your bundle of nerves, resisting bucking your hips into your own hand. You took the toy, bringing it down to your hole. The tip of the dildo prodding at your entrance, you pushed it inside of you slowly. Moaning out, one of your hands slid under your (Matty’s) shirt to tweak at your nipple. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.

Pushing the toy fully inside of yourself, you brought your pointer finger to rub lightly at your clit. You could feel yourself clenching around it, brining your hand back to the base so you could move it in and out of you slowly. You breathing picked up, chest heaving as you allowed yourself to give in to pleasure.

That was your first mistake, you guessed. Or maybe that was not checking the time when you woke up. As you didn’t hear Matty’s car pull up in the driveway. Nor did you hear the front door close, or his footsteps as he made his way up the stairs. You didn’t hear the creek of the door, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back in pleasure. But, you did hear the clicking of someone’s tongue. You gasped, hand coming to splay out over your chest. Eyes opening wide, head shooting up to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway.

Your body was warm all over. The fact that you had gotten caught, but also breaking his rules? You felt shame creep up your neck. The toy was still inside of you fully, cunt dripping wet as you looked at the smirk on Matty’s face. He walked over towards the bed, shaking his head the whole time.

“What’s this, princess? Didn’t listen to your Doctor’s orders?” He mused, knee leaning on the bed as he rubbed your bare thigh with one hand. He trailed one finger from your leg, scratching his fingernail over your abdomen as he brought it down to your other thigh. You twitched slightly and he chuckled.

You whined as Matty practically drank you in with his eyes. His hand coming up to bunch his old band tee between his fist. “N-no, m’sorry, Doctor. But you left me. You left me, and I’ve been so needy all day.” You felt childish, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The faux pout you received back from Matty only made more arousal pour out of you.

Matty ignored your words, gazing at you like a predator. “Use this often when I’m gone, baby?” He pointed at the you, gesturing as if he was disgusted at the thought of you using it alone. “Only cock you should be taking is mine.” His tone was full of condescension and it made you dizzy. You clenched involuntarily. His eyes followed the movement, looking between your legs.

“Please, Doctor. I’m sorry. I want you so bad.” You begged for him, lashes fluttering as you looked up and tears filled your lash line. “Need you inside of me, it’s not the same. Want you to fill me up.” And maybe you were laying it on thick, but it was all the truth. You’ve been so needy for him all day.

“S’a shame, bunny.” He laughs at your reaction to the word, rolling your hips into the air. “You couldn’t listen to me. Think you deserve to get fucked with a real cock? That’s only for good girls, not whores like you.” He traced the outline of your panties that were pulled aside, lingering for a moment. Tapping the base of the dildo inside of you, he stretched the band of your elastic and let it snap back against your skin.

You groaned, feet planted on the bed as you raised your hips up. He circled your clit, pinching it lightly and watching the shock run throughout your body. “I- I am good, Matty. Please, I wasn’t gonna cum without you.” You whimper as Matty slaps the toy again, then grabbing the base and beginning to move it in and out of you.

Matty scoffs at your words. “You weren’t going to, or you just couldn’t?” He says with a definite tone, pulling the dildo fully out of you. He ran the silicone toy through your slick, then tapped it on your clit three times. You dig your nails into the sheets, trying to not move. “Wanna see you stuff yourself with it, since y’were so eager.” Matty takes his hands off your body completely, moving to the tent in his pants.

You could see that he was straining against his work pants, cock begging to be released from the confines of the fabric. You could imagine how it looked, all flushed and pretty, leaking precum for you. Matty palmed himself over the material, letting his hips buck up. He squeezed his very visible length. You swore your mouth watered.

Your hand went to the toy, body begging for some type of friction. You fucked yourself with it, getting lost in the way Matty looked as he rubbed himself over his pants. It felt good, but it wasn’t him. You would never be able to cum like this. “Doctor Healy, please. I need you so bad, you’re the only one who can make me feel like this. Nothing else.” You pleaded with him, hoping he’d show some mercy. Maybe you were wrong earlier, maybe Matty could stand to punish you.

As if he read your mind, Matty just smirked at you. He was almost breathless as he shook his head. “You couldn’t be a good girl, my good girl, and wait. Now you have to be satisfied with a plastic dick, princess.” His grin made you infuriated, skin heating up. You moved your hand between your legs faster, closing your eyes. You felt a slap on your thigh, your skin stinging from the impact. Your eyes snapped open. “Look at me. You were thinking of me, right? Well, now I’m in front of you. Don’t be selfish, bunny.” He spit his words at you meanly, the smirk on his face making you lightheaded.

You thought you could cry. You kept a steady rhythm, but you just couldn’t hit the right spots. “Please, Doctor. Need your help, can’t do it by myself. Don’t wanna think.” You jutted your bottom lip out, hand slowing down as Matty sat up straighter. He stopped palming himself, leaning closer to you. His hands trailed up your thighs, meeting between them where your hands were.

He took over, how moving the toy inside of you with more fervor than before. His other hand came to swipe at your clit, the position had you moaning gutturally. The lewd noises that emitted as he fucked you were enough to make you embarrassed. Of course, Matty had something to say. “Little slut can’t even touch herself properly? Guess I’ll have to teach her.” He moved the dildo at a particular angle that had you screaming out.

“Oh my God, Matty! Right there- Please, I’m gonna cum.” You barely got through your sentence before three of Matty’s fingers were on your clit. They rubbed the nerves harshly, determined to get you to your climax. Your whole body shuddered as you came, slurring out a mix of his honorific and his name. Falling from your lips like a prayer. Matty fucked you through your orgasm with the toy, pulling it out of you when he saw you had come down from you high. You felt Matty’s tongue come to lap at your clit, flattening it against your juices. Your hands immediately came to tug at his hair from overstimulation.

He leaned up, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. His hands were on either side of your jaw as he slipped his tongue in your mouth. He swallowed your moans, and you could taste yourself on his tongue. “Don’t we taste good together, princess?” You nodded obediently at him, and you saw the glimmer of mischief in his eye. “Wanna taste yourself again?” He asked nonchalantly, bringing the dildo that had just been inside of you to your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly. Lips wide and tongue flat, Matty shoved the toy inside your mouth. You moaned around the object, the taste of your own juices coating on your tongue. You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue along the tip for show, watching as Matty’s eyes darkened and jaw clenched. “Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” He pushed the toy aside, shoving your jaw away.

His hand wrapped lightly around your throat, and he brought three fingers down to your entrance. You were already so fucked out, and you knew he wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Matty’s moved his hand and pushed your (his) shirt up over your chest. He pinched and played with your exposed nipples, sucking on them until they were completely hard. He blew on your sensitive buds, reveling in the way you squirmed from the cold air.

He pushed two fingers into your cunt easily, already being so wet and open for him. You gasped, clenching your thighs as me moved his digits rapidly. “Tight little cunt, even after I stretched you out like that. Practically fucked you open.” He shook his head, spitting on your pussy. “Can’t wait to fuck you dumb, princess.” He added another finger, stretching you out even more. “Perfect little cock sleeve for me. M’glad you know your place.” Matty spoke blissfully, almost more lost in it than you.

“P-please, Doctor. Need you inside of me. Want you to fuck me and fill me up.” You babbled and nodded your head, trying to chase another high as Matty’s fingers never ceased their relentless pace. You didn’t even realize what you said, but you realized how he slightly faltered. Rhythm stopping for a beat, breath hitching. His hand moved to your stomach, pressing down.

“Yeah, princess? Want me to put a baby in there? You want everyone to know you belong to me, that your doctor got you pregnant?” He snickered, removing his hand from your pussy. He took his fingers up to his mouth, sucking off any remnants of you.

Matty stood up to unzip his pants, finally feeling relief on his hard cock. He unbuttoned his top, shrugging it off to the floor. You got lost in his tattoos, how his muscular arms bulged every time he moved. You knew your mouth was agape, and you were just feeding his ego even more. But how could you not? Especially when he steps out of his pants, pulling his briefs down. His hard cock almost slapped against his abdomen, the tip an angry red color. He was leaking pre cum, and he stroked himself twice as he squeezed his length in his fist. “Open your legs for me.”

You put your legs up on the bed, opening them as wide as your body allowed. Your panties that had been pulled to the side were now fully discarded of, as he roughly pulled them off your body. Muttering something of how he ‘wasn’t gonna let anything get in the way.’ He lined himself up with your entrance, but didn’t push himself inside of you. You took that as your window to beg for him.

“Doctor- Matty, please. I need you inside of me so bad. Just wanna feel your cock inside my cunt, it’s all I need. Wanna feel you cum inside of me.” You whined out, your rambling coming to an end as he pushed inside of you without warning. Matty made you take him to the hilt, burying himself inside of your warm cunt. Your slick pouring out around him.

Matty pounded into you, hand finding home on your neck again. His hips slapped against yours, combining with your wetness and filling the room with filthy sounds. Both you and Matty’s moans filling the empty spaces. “Cunts clinging to me, just sucking me right in. Can tell she wants me to cum inside of her.” Matty stopped his rhythm for a moment just to slap your clit. “Tell me ‘thank you’.” He said smugly.

The way he talked about your pussy made you clench around him in embarrassment, face heating up. He tightened his grip on your throat, squeezing the sides. You felt dizzy in the best way possible.

“W-why should I? You haven’t even finished with me yet.” Your smirk and bratty attitude didn’t last for long, he lightly slapped you across the face. Just enough for it to sting. Your body felt like it was buzzing, and your hole clenched around him.

“Messy girl.” He tsked, hips stuttering. He pulled his cock out of you. Making you whine in protest. “Shouldn’t even fill you up, bad girls don’t deserve my cum.” You know he’s bluffing, but your eyes go wide in fear. He wouldn’t leave you high and dry.

“N-no! Matty, m’sorry. Please, Doctor. You know I need it.” You folded immediately. Your body was restless from the lack of contact know, the only thigh touching you were his hands ghosting up your sides.

He ignored your pleas. "You know, bunny," You moan out as Matty speaks, running the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, pulling back when you try to arch into him. "Best time to try and knock you up is right now, when you're ovulating." Whines fall from your lips helplessly, pleasure being robbed from you as he keeps pulling away from your cunt. Of course he remembers the cycles of your body. "Gotta make sure it takes. Can't have you wasting my cum, right?" He chuckles at your reaction, his thumb pressing down on your clit as he brings his cock to your entrance again.

You feel full again as he presses into you, and your body felt like it was on fire. You nodded along to everything he said, easily obeying him. You needed to cum, and you needed his cum, too. “God, Matty. I’m close, please.”

“Hold it.” He replies, rubbing hard and firm circles on your button. “Tight hole is creaming around me. Little bunny, should get you a collar. Tie you down and keep this pussy stuffed full all day.” You groaned out, no longer being able to string a coherent sentence together. All you could do was shake your head. Matty chuckled. “Yeah, bunny? Like that idea? Maybe we should get you a tail, too.” Your senses were on overdrive. Matty really was fucking you dumb. And he almost seemed pussy drunk himself.

“Come on, princess. Cum around my cock, let me feel you.” He spit on his fingers, bringing them down to your clit, letting it drip down to where you two were connected. It sent you over the edge, coming for the second time that night. Your eyes rolled back in your head, throat already sore from how you were screaming his name and title. You felt Matty’s dick twitch inside of you, his steady pace faltering.

“Fuck- gonna fill this cunt up.” He groaned out in a raspy voice, and you felt the warm liquid painting your insides as his chest heaved. You moaned at the feeling, loving how he felt inside of you. You could see beads of sweat on Matty’s forehead when you opened your eyes, and a blissful smile crossed your face. You moved the hair from his forehead, and he smiled back at you.

When Matty pulled out, you winced from the empty feeling. He watched as his cum started to leak out of you, reaching up by your head to grab a pillow from the top of the bed. He positioned it under your hips, scooping up the cum that had already dripped out and pushing it back inside of you. He bumped your clit as he did so, enjoying the way you jolted. He let his fingers slip inside of you again, hooking them as he found that spot that made you go crazy. You felt tears prick your eyes. Matty poured in faux sympathy. “Oh- I know, baby. I know. S’that my spot? Just know this little cunt too well.” He curled his fingers inside of you again, leaving them now to act as a sort of plug. You giggled, slapping his shoulder. “Matty!”

“What? M’gonna make sure you get pregnant.” You could barely see the brown in his eyes, pupils completely blown out. He smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your forehead. “Wanna see you all round and full of me. Even if that means fucking you every day this week, and again tonight.” And from his tone of voice alone, you knew Matty was deadly serious.

#divider cred: @cafekitsune #enjoy ppl <3 #matty healy x oc #matty healy blurb #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy oneshot #matty healy smut #matty healy fic #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x fem!reader #the 1975 smut #gyno!au #gyno!matty #gynecologist!matty #matty healy imagine

193 notes · View notes

lloromanic0 · 5 months

Text

Just made this blog to post random smut I have in my notes app. I hope you like them x

Bill Kaulitz as an exchange student looking for an English tutor ;)

You woke up around ten am, looking out your dorm window contemplating the rain hitting the glass. After about five minutes you finally got up a started to get ready for your classes, you looked at your schedule that was hooked above your desk, today you had English C1, German B1 and English literature. You were a languages enthusiast you had always been interested in learning new languages you loved communicating with others so picking a languages major was the only right choice for you. Since you lived close to campus at 10:50 you started walking to class hopping to be there by 11. The cold morning breeze hit your face making your cheeks feel cold and look slightly red, the rain had stopped by now, but some drops fell occasionally from trees or rooftops. After around 7 minutes of walking, you finally got inside and went straight to class. You didn’t have many friends, just enough to keep you company during the long days at university. As you were approaching the big classroom you saw one of your friends that was a part of some sort of Student Council which welcomed exchange students, of course she was always busy talking to people, but she never made you feel left out. As you got closer to her, she immediately spotted you giving you a big smile and you smiled back at her.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

“Good morning, Amelie.”

“I’ll get in the classroom just in a second I’m just handing some fliers to the exchange students.” She said while still smiling at you.

You nodded as you looked behind her to peek at the exchange students, when one of them really caught your eye. A tall, slim man with long black hair was looking directly at you making you feel slightly intimidated by his aura. After engaging in this staring contest with him for a few seconds you got inside of the amphitheatre taking a seat close to the edge.

Around ten minutes passed, and you saw Amelie walking inside the classroom looking for you, you waved at her as she gave you an expression of relief. She sat next you exhaling deeply and looking at you right after.

“Lots of work?” You ask.

“Quite a bit, but you know me I love meeting new people and try to give them the best university experience even if it’s just for a semester”.

She said smiling with her eyes closed. She truly had a beautiful heart.

You smiled softly again, you liked to talk to people, but you also loved you alone time and well Amelie barely had any due to all her responsibilities and you weren’t about to sacrifice that, but you did help her anytime you could.

Then she looked at you, she looked a bit..embarrassed…you didn’t know how to describe her expression well enough.

“Y/N can I please ask you to do me a favor.”

Your face got a bit hot at the sudden request, but you nodded firmly.

She quickly exhaled and began to talk.

“So there’s this one German exchange student that speaks very poor English and he came to me asking if anyone would be able to tutor him so that he could communicate better with people and to also help him pass his classes while he’s here”

“Why me?” You bluntly ask.

“Seriously? You’re a top student in English and you’re practically fluent in German you’re literally perfect to be his tutor!”

You kept silent for a bit.

“Listen I know you like to have your alone time specially after classes but if you could spare 2 hours let’s say…3 times a week to help him it wouldn’t harm you…”

“Also he’s willing to pay...”

“It’s not about money Amelie. But since you’re my friend I’ll see what I can do to help him”

She smiled and thanked you.

4 pm

After your tree classes Amelie asked you to meet her at the student’s office so you could schedule a time to tutor him. You kept wondering who this German student might be. You entered the office closing the door behind you when you saw him. The tall slim man who was staring at you this morning. You got close to him trying not to blush again, Amelie appeared behind you making you jump a little.

“Hi! I’m so happy you came; this is Bill your new student.” She said giggling, also making Bill smile, you sat next to him.

“Hallo“ he said smiling.

“Was geht“ you replied.

“I’m sure you’ll get along well” Amelie interrupted “So” she said while sliding you a piece of paper “These are the days that Bill is available for tutoring so you can see if it fits your schedule”.

Tuesday from 5pm-7pm

Thursday from 4pm-6pm

Friday from 8pm-10pm

You looked through your schedule then looked up at them smiling slightly.

“This is fine”

Bill looked very excited and so did Amelie.

You and Bill exchanged phone numbers and you three walked out.

«I can’t thank you enough Y/N! » Exclaimed Amelie.

Bill kept his eyes on you the whole time, you felt his gaze scanning your body it was hard to admit it, but you loved the feeling. You waved goodbye to both, and you tree parted ways. After the same 7-minute walk you did everyday you finally entered your dorm room and threw yourself on the bed. You closed your eyes starting to feel sleepy when suddenly your phone vibrated.

Texts

Bill: «Hope to see you tomorrow Süβe ;)»

You stupidly smiled at the text quickly snapping out of your daydreaming and giving him a quick reply.

«Yep, don’t be late :)» you placed your phone down and fell asleep a few minutes later.

You woke up the next day, it was a sunny morning today the warm sun felt comforting on your skin but it was still as cold as yesterday. You checked your phone for the time and noticed another text from Bill, your heart raced a little.

Texts

Bill

«Good morning, Miss what should I bring to class today? » you laughed a little at the nickname he called you.

«Your total concentration and maybe a notebook and a pen would be nice».

«Yes ma’am» he replied.

You only had 2 classes today so around 4pm you would be free so had an hour to prepare some sort of exercises for Bill to practice after class.

4:50 pm

After putting on some comfortable clothes you quickly set up your desk so that Bill had space to sit down, when suddenly you heard a nock on your door, the noise startled you but you quickly calmed down remembering it was probably Bill. You looked in the mirror for a second fixing your hair and makeup and then opened the door.

He was leaning on the side of the door frame towering over you as you stared at his figure.

“I thought you were going to leave me out here.” he said pouting his lips in a playful way.

You just laugh in response and tell him to get in.

“Do you want a water or maybe a snack?” You asked trying to make him feel more comfortable.

“Water please!”

You grabbed a bottle from your mini fridge and gave it to him.

“Danke.” He said

“In here we only speak English ok Bill?” You replied playfully.

“Yes ma’am”

You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him.

“So I prepared a list of things that I thought would be good for you to practice.”

You showed him the list: conjugating verbs, irregular verbs, pronunciation, correct way of writing sentences etc..

He read trough it as his eyes widened.

“So much….”

“I’m here to help you Bill we need to work on these aspects if you want to get better.”

He looked like a sad puppy he was so cute you couldn’t help yourself.

“Anddd if you do a good job I’ll even reward you.”

He look at you with a little grin.

“Can I choose the reward?”

You tilted your head and lifted your right eyebrow a little

“Don’t you think you’re asking for too much already?”

His cheeks got pink, you didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or shyness but he looked so handsome like that.

You cleared your throat and stared to show him some work sheets on verb conjugation.

5:45 pm

“Professor…”

“No need to call me that Bill don’t be silly.” You said while giggling a bit.

“I can’t remember this one. I hate irregular verbs!” He exclaimed slightly mad.

“You can do it just think hard. After you finish that we can take a small break.”

His face instantly lite up as he worked hard on his paper. After a few minutes he finished it and as you corrected it,you told him he could take a break.

All of a sudden you feel arms wrap around you shoulders.

“Y/N are you done correcting? I thought you were taking the break with me.”

You gulped hard while you looked at his hands hanging from your shoulders.

“Bill…I need to correct this before we move on you know that..”

“But…” he slightly hesitated to speak “…I want you to pay attention to me”

His words made you bite your lower lip lightly.

“You can sit with me if you would like.”

He pulled his chair to sit down.

“Not there Bill.” You pulled yourself away from the table a little and placed your hand on your exposed thigh.

“Sit here.”

His face now painted red and his mouth slightly hanging open, he looked at you and you gave him a smile of approval. He walked over to you positioning himself on your lap. You placed one of your hands around his lower stomach making him exhale nervously.

“Are you comfortable?” You whispered. He nodded and kept still while you finished your work.

6 pm

“All done,you did quite well Bill I’m impressed.” your hand caressing his thigh.

“All thanks to you..” his voice slightly cracking.

“Are you ok Bill? If you don’t feel comfortable please tell me.”

“Y-yes I’m fine Y/N”

You looked over his shoulder and saw the evident tent in his pants,you licked your lips and slowly moved your hand up his tight.

He let out a shaky breath.

“What’s wrong mein liebe?” You asked innocently.

“Nichts…” his breath getting heavier each time your hand approached his erection but never touching it without his consent.

With that you took your hand off his thigh and flipped through some more work sheets.

“Warum hast du aufgehört!?” His tone slightly higher.

“English please.” You said teasing.

He scoffed “Why did you stop…?”

“Stop what Bill?” You whisper close to his neck.

“You stopped touching me…”

“You want me to touch you?”

He nodded, his breath getting heavier.

“But where Bill?”

He stopped for a second getting embarrassed to ask you to touch his throbbing cock that made his tight pants feel very uncomfortable.

“Tell me Bill…” You whispered in his ear starting to kiss his neck while rubbing his thighs again.

“Touch me between my thighs please…” he begged in a low tone.

“I couldn’t hear you baby can you repeat that?” You wanted to tease him until he got to his limit.

“Please touch my cock…It hurts so bad.”

“That’s a good boy, so obedient.”

You moved your hand up his tight slowly palming his erection through his pants.

You unzipped them and pulled his boxers down as his hard cock sprung out of them hitting his lower stomach. For such a slim guy he was definitely bigger than average. The pink head of his cock was coated in his precum,it twitched quite often desperately seeking some sort of stimulation. You hand wrapped around his base slowly pumping him, he whimpered and whined,your slow touch making him feel more agony rather than pleasure.

“Please…faster.” He begged,breathing heavily. You quickly complied to his request since he was being so well behaved. You stroked him faster as your wrist started to get sore but the erotic sounds he was making were enough to make up push through the discomfort. With one hand you massed his balls, and with the other you circled his tip with your thumb, he moaned loudly with the doble stimulation.

“Sshh keep it down Bill, you don’t want the whole dorm to know how much of a whore you are.”

“Sheiße….i can’t- I’m so close-“

“Cum for me liebe.” You ordered.

With a few more strokes he came all over your hands coating them in his thick semen.

“Thank you-thank-you..for helping me cum…” he kept thanking you as he laid his head back on your shoulder so that he could look at you.

You kissed him a few times complementing him, telling him he did a very good job and how he was such a good boy.

You helped him clean up and walked him to the door since it was already past time and you didn’t want your dorm mates to suspect anything.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at university Bill.”

“Yeah…text me when you get there.” He gave you a big smile.

“Will do.” You smiled as you pulled him down for one last kiss, this one being a little longer than the previous. You opened the door for him and watched him walk down the corridor looking back at you a few times, when you lost sight of him you closed the door and went back to your room.

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #smut #dom reader #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x female reader

192 notes · View notes

sgiandubh · 4 months

Note

This what I mean 👇🏻

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/3518505943900484/

Dear (returning) Bitchy Anon,

I wrote this answer yesterday, but I am posting it today, because I did not want to give you any satisfaction. Your coming back in here proves there is not an ounce of humanity left in you: just a #silly obsession for an actress who does not even know or care you exist. I promise you she doesn't. Confidently so.

But then, onwards to your 'evidence'.

You thought you would give me the creeps on Christmas Day with a controversial picture allegedly taken at the Weinstein (yes, that Weinstein!) and Netflix Golden Globes afterparty, on January 8, 2017?

No, seriously now: you actually did?

Crikey. As we say in Romanian (and yes, it is very rude, but also dementedly funny): mi se umple fundul de lacrimi/my arse is in tears. Perhaps the equivalent of I don't give a flying fuck, btw.

If you did read me before posting your laughable shite, and I think you did, you should know by now how I usually work, at least for those things I choose to make public (the rest is none of your business, I am afraid). You found this pic on Pinterest, originating from a Tumblr blog: @clairebeauchampfan. Since this person started blogging one year later than the moment this picture was taken, she probably found it chez Contemplating Outlander. You know, that pseudo-social scientist-cum-shrink, who thinks people are machines and adds a shitload of footnotes to her rantings, because she truly believes it makes her biased crap more credible (it doesn't, and this comes from an academic researcher: it is legit pathetic). So Claire Beauchamp Fan shared it and forgive me, but I did not bother finding her post, I just looked for her source (*urv's fetish):

This took me to CO's really nasty blog and you could have spared me that ordeal, Anon: it's literally akin to severe constipation. And then, onwards to Instagram:

A further search revealed she was wearing a Romanian designer (Maria Lucia Hohan) dress and Amrapali earrings. And then, I read the comments on that Insta post. Maybe you'd read them too, they are enlightening - for someone who's 'been around since 2015', people are rather confused about his real status in her life, don't you think?

But Internet is really forever, no matter how you try to hide your trash, Anon. Here is a copy of O'Callaghan's post which was, indeed, deleted: maybe *urv was too insistent? It wouldn't surprise me:

She should have won the Golden Globe in 2017, that's true. And it was S, not McIdiot, the one who told the Internet she should have won all those prizes, if memory serves. How odd McIdiot is never mentioned in that particular post (y'all would have paraded it for YEARS, if it were so) - but household staff, no matter how promoted, never really is. And before you screech, tell all the damn truth Anon, and put this pic in its right context:

How odd the 'successful music producer and entrepreneur' (he is not successful, nor a music producer and much less an entrepreneur) was not tagged, by someone who is active in the industry, who clearly knows C and who attended that Golden Globes gala!

Just a last word on that pic. C was obviously smiling and talking animatedly with O'Callaghan and then McIdiot (who looks malnourished - but hey, humble beginnings, eh?) got dragged in the middle, for the convenient pic. I sometimes wonder what kind of social life you people have and sadly, I have to say - next to 0, for some of you. I never fuck the dozens of men with whom I do have similar 'just because' pics, interrupting my conversation in the middle of an event.

Also, check this very warm & fuzzy pic with one prominent member of her own, personal and very, very gay Circle of Trust. Because I am sorry, but what straight man wears lipstick, as McIdiot clearly does (and no, it's not because they were smooching in the lavatories, what are you, 14?):

She looks happy, doesn't she?

I mean: really, honey. Get a Real Life and stop trying to persuade me with ye olde Pinterest pics you clearly are completely clueless about, ok?

And before you open your mouth to vomit CO's trash again, please carefully do your homework about McIdiot. But as carefully as I did. Then you can talk, share your interesting findings. Merry Christmas and....

#anon #fandom #shitshow

103 notes · View notes

thankeywa · 10 months

Note

Can i request a FILTHY SMUTY IMAGINE. that lo'ak has a wet dream of kiris best friend.that he hates.. 😔and then he has to deal with the results (bôñér) then later he like kisses us then that leads to filthy smut. 🧍🏻‍♀️

Cruel to be kind | Lo'ak x fem!Na'vi!reader (Smut)

Summary: request (above), enemies to lovers, a lil angst, NSFW, p in v, oral (reader receiving), Lo'ak and f! Omatikaya! reader are AGED UP (20+)

minors DNI with this or anything on my blog.

A.N: oof anon, this request got me bad, also the way you wrote boner is funny as hell. Going to try something new and write 'you' instead of 'y/n' for this. Also the fact that Lo'ak kisses both of us, I love that for us. I hope you enjoy 😉😘

word count: 4.2k

Lo'ak hated you. No, seriously. He quite literally couldn't stand the sight of you.

Kiri just had to choose you as her best friend for some reason, and you'd always been hanging around his family since you were little. Even though the years had passed, and you were no longer that annoying little girl who teamed up with his sister to bother him, you still found other ways to infuriate him.

Your constant strive to know more about humans, for example. Lo'ak could see right through your phoney attempts to pretend to be interested in Kiri's origins, no matter how often he caught you listening to her mother's music or learning how to read English through her 'books'. It was all a farçe and he knew it.

Your looks were another thing. Every single male his age couldn't help but fawn over you, and he just didn't get it. Honestly, it was hard to even look at you most of the time. Especially into your eyes. The mere idea made his stomach flip. One night, Neteyam had even briefly mentioned how 'beautiful' you'd become, and Lo'ak had almost torn his head off. How could his brother actually be so stupid? It had been completely lost on him that Neteyam was simply trying to make his brother realise he actually had a crush on you, and that's where all of his pent up anger was coming from.

It wasn't a secret that Lo'ak didn't like you, not even to you. Yet you still tried to be nice to him all the damn time. You were such a fake, it was unbelievable.

One night Lo'ak wanted to be alone, but on his way to one of his usual hiding spots he ran into you and someone who could have only been... courting you.

"Kaltxì, Lo'ak!" You waved at him sweetly while holding the guy's hand. It made Lo'ak sick. You made him sick.

"Bite me, [ ]." Lo'ak answered rudely, not stopping to engage in any further conversation.

You weren't really taken back by his hostility, but as always the hurt showed in your face. Sealtiel, your date, wasn't at all impressed with Lo'ak's behavior. "How dare you talk to her that way, you five fingered freak?"

Rage boiled up inside of you even before Lo'ak had a chance to react. You pulled yourself away from Sealtiel's hold on your hand and gave him a piece of your mind. Lo'ak imagined you were more intent on defending Kiri than him, since she had human features too, but he still felt like shit for being rude to you in front of someone else at that moment.

You stormed off, and after a few seconds of contemplation, Lo'ak tried to follow after you. But you stopped him in his tracks. "I don't need anymore of your crap right now, okay Lo'ak?" You snapped at him, turning around to face him.

"No, it's just--- I wanted to—" Lo'ak stammered. It had never happened to him before. Maybe only once, when he was 12, and he'd alone out in the forest, reciting all the ways he could think of to ask you a girl he liked out. Just for practice. It wasn't like he'd gone out to pick flowers, or anything.

"What? Make another cruel joke? Wait for someone else to come by so you can humiliate me in front of them? I don't know what I ever did, for you to hate me so much, but I'm done trying to understand." You hissed at him. "Stay. Away from me."

Fine, Lo'ak thought, as he watched you walk away from him. He had nothing to apologise for anyway. It wasn't his fault he couldn't be obsessed with you like everyone else seemed to be. Lo'ak had already been keeping clear of you, you were the one who always seemed to want to talk.

"Yeah? Well maybe you should take your own advice, then!" He yelled back at you, his voice cracking. You were already gone.

That night he couldn't sleep. It was just another thing about you. On those days that you really irked him, he just couldn't relax. Lo'ak would toss and turn for hours on end, rethinking all the things he could have said and done instead. Until finally exhaustion would take over in the early hours before the end of the eclipse.

...💫...

Lo'ak was making his way through the forest, longing for a soak and some well deserved time alone in the small stream just past the waterfalls. He'd gone out at night as usual, so none of his annoying siblings would follow him.

Soon enough he could hear the stream, and finally he came upon the small pond of clear water where he usually went to clear his head. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw someone had already had the same idea as him. Before the other Na'vi could notice him, Lo'ak panicked and hid behind a tree.

But then he made the fatal mistake of peeking around the corner to see who it was and was caught by them immediately.

"I know you're there, Lo'ak." Your voice called out to him, followed by a soft giggle. Lo'ak felt himself grow hot all over from the embarrassment, screwing his eyes shut and drawing his ears down as he desperately hoped for the ground to swallow him whole.

The last person he wanted to see at that moment was you. Especially underneath those circumstances.

When he dared to open his eyes again, he was staring right at you. Your body was wet and glistening in the darkness, and you were shivering lightly from the cool air of the night on your skin. Lo'ak could see all of you, or the best approximation of what his mind could come up with of your features, and he was completely frozen in place y the sight of them. "I was— I didn't know that you were..." He breathed out with some difficulty, doing his best to keep his eyes trained on your face.

"It's getting a little cold now..." You murmured, cozying up to him. "Come warm me up a little?"

Lo'ak was a goner as soon as he heard you say those words. The second he nodded and leaned into you to catch your lips with his own, your hands were on his waist and making quick work of ridding him of his loincloth.

All the desperation Lo'ak felt down to the very core of his being, made the scene in his mind escalate pretty quickly. The Na'vi pulled you close, finally able to let his hands roam your body as he pleased, and trapped you between himself and the tree he'd been hiding behind only a few moments earlier.

"Lo'ak, I need you, please..." You almost sobbed as he ran his fingers between your slick folds just to feel how ready you were for him there. Lo'ak took a moment to appreciate your arched back and spread legs as you presented to him, before taking his stance behind you. "This why you mess with my head all the time?" He whispered in a low voice as he began to pound into your warmth, but you could only answer with broken moans as you feebly tried to meet his thrusts. "You just wanted me to pay you a little attention, uh?"

He gave your tail a harsh tug when you didn't answer right away.

"Y-yes! Hh-hhn, w-wanted... you... t-to..." Your answer got lost in a babble of incoherent mewls and wails.

The night began to twist itself in a fever dream of Lo'ak body entangled with yours in different scenarios that came and went in his mind. If at first he was staking his claim on you at a punishing pace until the roughness of the tree bark began to cut into your skin, the next moment the two of you were by the stream and you were riding his cock like your life depended on it.

"See this?" You asked him sweetly as you gestured towards yourself. Lo'ak watched you run your fingers over your breasts (which were now covered in all sorts of marks left by him), down your stomach to your thighs, and finally back up to your core that was currently clamping down on his shaft. "You'll never have any of it..."

Those words startled him.

"And you'll—never—have—me, Lo'ak Sully." You punctuated each segment of that scathing sentence with a roll of your hips. Your words cut Lo'ak deeper than he'd ever been, all the while the sight and feel of your body on top of him kept knocking the air out of his lungs.

Lo'ak listened to you cry out from the pleasure of the two of you reaching your peak at the same time, meanwhile, a feeling of dread began to settle over him. You languidly let yourself rest across his chest, leaning down to leave a trail of soft kisses across his face that he was now desperately trying to commit to memory. "Don't... don't go..." Lo'ak mumbled, wanting to hold on to you for as long as he could.

But you were already fading from him. "Why should I stay? You hate me, remember?"

...💫...

Your voice was far away from him now. Instead, all the hateful things he'd said to you and about you during the years began to ring louder and louder in his mind, until finally, he woke up with a start.

"...I'm sorry." Lo'ak heard himself saying, as he woke up drenched in sweat, all the while sporting the most uncomfortable erection he'd possibly woken up with in recent memory. Thankfully he'd spent the night in one of the hiding places the Sullys had built for themselves across the years away from the rest of the clan. He had no reason to think anyone else would be coming by there so early in the morning, so Lo'ak saw no harm in taking care of himself then and there.

If anyone else were to climb up the treehouse, Lo'ak was sure he'd be able to hear their movements in time to cover himself up. There was little risk involved, and he certainly couldn't walk back home sporting a boner.

Little did he know, you were still trudging through the forest, your thoughts once again plagued by his hurtful behaviour. You'd always liked Lo'ak, despite your better judgement. He'd always been abundantly clear about not wanting you around, yet your heart seemed to have a hard time accepting that. Recently, you'd thought that maybe it was time for you to start courting and be courted. To know what it really felt to be cared for the same way you'd cared for the younger Sully brother.

But that night you'd realised, your heart had been completely wasted on him and there was nothing you could do about it.

Suddenly, your acute hearing picked up some ragged breathing coming from way up in the trees, and you were snapped out of your reverie. It was one of your people, and they sounded like they were hurt. You couldn't ignore it, especially since nobody should have been that far away from Home Tree after the eclipse.

Pushing your sadness to the side, to quickly climbed up the tree where you could hear the pained moans coming from. The closer you got to the top, you began to recognise the voice as Lo'ak's. Of course he'd gotten himself in trouble at that time of night. The adrenaline rushing through you made you perform a couple more reckless jumps until you finally found yourself outside of a hut built in the middle of the branches.

You rushed inside, worry written all over your tear stained face. "Lo'ak! Are you —"

The scene you were met with was a far cry from anything you'd been imagining until that point. Your eyes were perfectly capable of seeing in the dark, and there was no mistaking what was happening. Lo'ak's five fingered hand was wrapped around his... his... well, you knew what it was called, you'd just never seen one before...

The shameless act brought colour and heat to your face. Lo'ak had looked completely feral in that moment, and now the cries you'd been hearing took on a whole different meaning. The second he saw you, his pupils widened almost comically, and he quickly attempted to cover his arousal back underneath his loincloth, but the hard outline of it was still there, completely unaffected by your sudden appearance.

"[ ]" Lo'ak called your name as you began to turn your heal and run away from what you'd just seen. You couldn't deal with the way the sight of him naked and pleasuring himself made you feel, not after the way he'd treated you a couple hours prior.

You were about to jump down from and incredibly tall branch without even checking your landing, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around your middle to keep you from doing something utterly stupid. "Just what do you think you're doing?" It would have sounded like his usual rude self, if it wasn't for the soft tone and the clear concern in his voice.

"N-none of your business..." You struggled against him weakly. "Let me go, Lo'ak..." Lo'ak didn't even have that good of a hold on you, he was trying his best to keep his excitement angled away from you. You looked mortified, and he felt beyond ashamed that he'd been touching himself while thinking of you, when clearly you despised him. And with good reason.

"Forgive me, [ ]. Please forgive me." Lo'ak begged you. The words sounded so foreign coming from him. He didn't even apologise to his family most of the time. "I... never meant for you to see..."

Your ears lowered in understanding. Lo'ak wasn't apologising for his behaviour, just for the dishevelled state he'd put you in now. "It's fine..." You breathed out, relaxing a little bit in his hold. "I just... I thought you were hurt..."

Lo'ak couldn't deny the sincerity of your words, nor would he ever forget how worried you'd looked as you'd barged into his tent. He didn't deserve any of your care and attention, yet you kept giving it to him despite his brutish behaviour.

"You were crying..." He blurted out suddenly, seeing the tear streaks on your face and the redness in your eyes now that you were so close. Lo'ak thought back to the way the two of you had parted ways. Only he could come to the realisation he had feelings for someone just after bringing them to tears. "I... I made you cry..."

You didn't want to answer Lo'ak, and suddenly the need to get away from him became much stronger. It was humiliting, and you knew he'd realise soon how badly you had it for him. "Lo'ak... please... " You didn't know if you were asking for. To be let go? To somehow have this pain taken away from you?

Lo'ak didn't let you go however, and he decided he wouldn't, not until you calmed down. His hold wasn't forceful, you could have pulled away from him if you really wanted to. Instead, he was holding you like you were the most precious thing to him in the world. His hands began to caress your skin gently, all the while he was crooning soft apologies to you. It made you melt against him almost too easily, clinging to him while your breathing began to settle down.

To the back of your mind, a nagging thought began to grow. "Is... is this your way of playing a prank on me?" You asked, your words breaking Lo'ak's heart. Finally, he'd found away to be with you without reflecting the negativity inside of him onto you, but of course you didn't trust him.

Lo'ak was the one trying to fight back tears now. He looked angry, distraught even, as his face twisted into a side of him you'd never seen before. "Of course you'd think that..." He said, taking a step back from you. "What have I ever shown you if not hatred over the years...? I'm so much of a loser and a fuck up, why wouldn't you think I'd try to trick you when you're this vulnerable?"

"Lo'ak —" You tried to stop him from being self-deprecating, which hurt you more than anything.

"But what choice did I have?" He snapped back, his voice filled with grief. "You were always off with Kiri or Neteyam when we were kids. And that was fine, I could never live up to my siblings anyway. But then... everyone in the clan started to understand... how goddamm perfect you are... and I knew, I would never be enough for you... I would have brought you nothing but shame... so, so I had to shut you out. I had to make you understand how big of a disappointment I really am to everyone around me..." Lo'ak took a glance at his demon hands, a constant reminder of how sick his longing for [ ] truly was. Someone like him was meant to end up alone.

Lo'ak's words almost broke you. The realisation he longed for you just as much as you did, was unfortunately overtaken by the pain you felt for him. You didn't want him to believe these things he'd clearly been telling himself for years. Those thoughts of his had kept him away from you for too long.

You threw your arms around his neck, holding him so tight you would have cut his circulation off if he wasn't much stronger than you. "You... complete and... utter skxawng..." you reprimanded him. "I never want to hear you say those things about yourself again. What you are, Lo'ak Sully, is a moron, nothing more." Lo'ak gave you a little grin through his tears. "Because I have always been yours... and you never saw it."

Hearing those words leave your lips almost made Lo'ak's knees give out from under him. Afraid it was all just a dream, a sudden need to feel you and brand his touch onto you overcame him.

Lo'ak ran his nose against your cheek a little before capturing your lips into a searing kiss. You arched into him, letting out a soft mewl at the heated contact you'd never experienced before. It didn't take long for the two of you to retreat back into Lo'ak's hideout, and only then did he pull away from you.

"J-just... gimme a sec..." He said nervously. You were a little dazed from your shared kiss, and both of you were starved for more. Lo'ak was doing his best to create a comfortable spot for the two of you to rest on, and you couldn't help but giggle at how cute it was. You walked over to where he was fretting, laying down and pulling him down with you.

It wasn't uncommon for Na'vi your age to mess around before bonding, even outside of an official courtship. However neither of you had ever wanted or even contemplated having fun with someone else. So you were both completely inexperienced. That didn't stop Lo'ak from doing to you all the things he'd been dreaming about for years.

Once he'd made sure you were comfortable, he began to worship every single part of you, committing every single inch of your skin to memory. The little sobs you let out when he started playing with your breasts, had him teasing you relentlessly until you were in tears. "L-Lo'ak... I'm sensitive there... please...!" You didn't know whether you were beginning him to stop or keep going.

He absolutely loved having you at his mercy in that way, but the sweet scent of your arousal had him finally relenting as he directed his attention to your glistening cunt. "Look at you, what a pretty little syulang, huh?" Lo'ak licked a stripe up your slit without as much as a warning, making you moan and tug at his braids. His eyes were completely transfixed by the sight of you, letting his fingers pet you gently at first. "I hope you know, your little syulang is all mine now... I don't plan on sharing you with anybody else." He growled possessively, before burying his face between your thighs to drink down the sweet nectar you couldn't seem to stop producing. "Y-yes... Lo'ak... all yours..." you whined softly, fully losing yourself into the pleasure he was so adamant to give you.

You were so foreign to the feeling of an orgasm approaching, you ended up squirting all over Lo'ak face. When he pulled away to look up at you with fully blown pupils, you were completely mortified at what just happened. You tried to pull away and apologise, but Lo'ak didn't let you second guess yourself for a second. He'd never been more turned on in his life. "No way, baby... can't have you saying that... this pretty little cunt deserves all the praise and care in the world... now stay still, I'm not finished..."

He lapped up all the slick that had been running down your thighs before attaching his lips to your folds once again. Soon, you were begging for him to claim you. All of you. While Lo'ak had been painfully hard the whole time, he hadn't thought about his own pleasure for a single second until then. His hands and even his sex were different to the ones of other Na'vi. He was afraid of disappointing you again, of not being up to the standard of what you needed.

"Lo'ak, please... I don't want you to take care of it by yourself..." you crawled over to him now, your shyness almost gone while his own insecurities were back. He let out a deep croon, holding you tight as you sat in his lap, your back against his chest. You tilted your head to the side so he could kiss and mark up you neck, all the while the two of you were rutting against each other. "You're already taking care of me..." He reassured you, but you still positioned yourself to line yourself up with his cock.

Lo'ak bit into your shoulder then, the feeling of your tight walls awakening a feral need to claim and breed inside of him. You were so small, you were struggling to even take him more than halfway, but Lo'ak was there to reassure you everything was perfect, you were perfect. "You're doing such a good job, yawne... fuck, fuck, fuck.... you're just so tight aren't you? Gonna have to ruin that cunt nice and proper first, if I you want to take me all the way..."

"Yes, Lo... I need it..." Lo'ak's words had you completely dumb and needy for him, and the two of you had just lost any semblance of self control you may have had until that point.

Your sweet and pliable nature give Lo'ak an immense sense of power and control over you. While it was undeniably hot to watch you struggle to take in the size of him, it was time to give both of you what you wanted. He gripped your hips tight and pulled almost all the way out before driving himself back in, loving the obscene sound of your wet walls dragging against him. You cried out his name, as he repeated the harsh motion, steadily driving himself deeper and deeper inside of you.

The two of you went at it for the entirety of the eclipse. The desire you had for each other was so desperate, the promise of feeling each other's pleasure once more was stronger than any ache in your body or sense of tiredness.

Waking up the following morning, you still felt the need for Lo'ak to mate you before the two of you had to once again go back to reality. This time, you finally managed to take him all the way and he thrust into you in one swift motion. The two of you were outside in the sunlight, your body trapped between Lo'ak's and the rough bark of the tree he'd pinned you against.

"Good girl... such a good girl... knew you could take me all the way..." Lo'ak praised you, pounding your raw and sensitive cunt, now able to make you feel every single inch of him. The pleasure was indescribable, even if you were overstimulated and sore from the previous night. You were calling out him name and begging him not to stop.

Unbeknownst to you, he'd dreamed about having you exactly like that the previous night.

299 notes · View notes

hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 1 year

Text

Changbin is horny but, you're tired. You let him hump your thighs to get off though. That's it. That's the thought that inspired this lol. I was initially thinking about writing this with Mingyu but, I think Changbin works very well here too. Plus, I haven't written about my boy yet.

Heads up: Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader, power dynamics, Dom! Reader, Sub! Changbin, friends with benefits, Changbin is an anxious, horny mess, thigh fucking, dirty talk, praise kink (m. receiving), very mild degradation (m. receiving), cumming on thighs and lightly referenced cum eating.

I will block you if you are minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You can usually tell when Changbin is horny. Your friend has many talents but, subtlety is not one of them. Which actually works out given the dynamic the two of you have. So, when he slips into your bed after an evening spent hanging out with the other members of your friend group and his arm wraps around your waist, you can already tell what he wants.

However, you hold back on your suspicions. Changbin is notoriously physically affectionate so, perhaps he just wanted to cuddle before the two of you went to sleep. He completely proves that thought wrong when his hand gradually moves upwards to rest just below one of your breasts, his hard cock pressing against the swell of your ass.

Even though you're frankly exhausted, you can't help the way your mouth quirks up.

He really is too predictable.

"Binnie, as much as I'd love to fuck right now, I'm too tired," you say, resting your own hand atop the one that was making its way to your breasts and giving it a soft, apologetic pat.

"Oh, that's okay. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or anything," he says, moving his hips away from your ass so you no longer feel the weight of him against your ass and, shifting his hand to place it over your stomach instead.

"Don't worry, you're fine. I just didn't want to set you up for disappointment," you say, giving his hand a squeeze to let him know you genuinely weren't upset or offended by his advances.

The two of you settle into a silence but, you hesitate to call it comfortable. There's some tension in the air and, even without seeing him, you can tell your friend is building up the courage to say something. Cute.

"What if I do all the work? I usually wouldn't ask but, I'm...really hard right now. Fuck, sorry. I don't want to make you feel like you're being pressured into doing anything. I'm sorry. I'll just go sleep on the couch or something-"

"Woah Changbin, breathe. You're not upsetting me. I know you'd respect my wishes if I say no. There's no harm in suggesting something that could satisfy both of us. Did you have anything in mind?" You ask, genuinely curious.

"Uh no, that was kind of just horny word vomit. I would be willing to do all the work though. You wouldn't have to lift a finger," he says and you can feel the desperation rolling off of him in waves. My, what's got your friend so worked up? His neediness triggers your own arousal, your insides beginning to grow slick with want. If you weren't so exhausted, you'd happily press him down and ride him until he lost feeling in his legs but, unfortunately that would have to wait for another time.

However, you do have an idea. Something you two have yet to try.

"Do you want to fuck my thighs?" You ask, glancing at him over your shoulder.

Fuck, he looks good enough to eat.

His cheeks flushed a light pink, either from his own desire or your question, his lips slightly agape and his dark hair appealingly messy.

He looks surprised at your question, "Fuck your...thighs?"

"Mhm, we can just stay like this and, all you have to do is stick your dick between my thighs and fuck them until you're satisfied," you respond. You can tell he's seriously thinking it over. You're well-aware how much Changbin loves your thighs so, you know the contemplation is mostly for show.

"Okay," he finally says, flush darkening when you give him a knowing smirk before turning back around.

"Just make sure to use lube. It's in the second drawer on the side you're on," you say, rubbing your thighs together to gain some sort of relief. For all your teasing of Changbin, it's not as though this left you unaffected.

Excitement builds in your system as you hear him getting ready behind you. Your pussy throbs when the sound of lube squirting into his hand hits your ears. It's made even worse when you hear him stroking his cock and, the labored breathing and quiet moans that accompany the action.

Maybe you should've just let him fuck you, honestly.

"Uh, sorry. I need to put some on your thighs too. Don't wanna make this unpleasant for you or anything," he says as his fingers prod between your thighs. You spread them slightly to allow him to smear the lube, and what you guess is his pre-cum as well, along your inner, upper thighs. The substance is cold and a little unpleasant but, the warmth radiating from Changbin's hand makes it considerably less unpleasant.

Eventually he seems to be satisfied with the amount coating your thighs and, stops. Fiddling behind you once again and it sounds as though he's cleaning his hands.

"I think I'm ready. Are you okay to start?" He says coming up behind you once more, the head of his cock pressing against you.

"Mhm, go ahead," you respond, pointedly ignoring the breathiness evident in your voice. Your arousal is beginning to coat your panties now. You make a mental note to fuck him tomorrow when you actually have the energy. For all your enjoyment of riling your little bunny up, he was just as good as working you up. Though, he didn't seem to realise it.

"Okay," he says quietly, shifting closer to you and pushing his cock into the space between your thighs. His arm coming around to wrap around your waist once again and grabbing a generous amount of your breast through your oversized night shirt.

"You're so warm," he groans against your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Changbin slowly starts to thrust against you, his cock occasionally bumping against your panty covered centre as he finds his rhythm. His grip on your breast becoming harsher.

"Binnie, you're so hot. You're getting so worked up just from fucking my thighs. What a cutie," you coo out, your own hand soothingly rubbing his arm as his breathing speeds up against your skin.

The praise has its intended effect.

His moaning against you now, all whiney and cute in the way only he can sound. His hips snapping faster against you, cock smearing your thighs with his pre-cum as he chases his climax.

"You're just s-so pretty and warm and soft. I-I'm getting close," he whines out, the sounds of skin smacking against skin starting to increase in volume. Beginning to echo throughout your bedroom.

"Thank you, baby. I want you to cum for me, okay? Wanna see how much of a needy slut you are for me,"

Well, that'll do it.

Changbin moans long and hoarse against your neck, his arm holding you in place as his hips weakly spasm against you. His warm cum smearing all over your thighs and panties.

Honestly, this may be one of the hottest things the two of you have done together. You're mildly surprised you didn't cum untouched just from feeling and hearing how desperate he was fucking your thighs. You just might consider making this a more regular occurrence.

"Good boy. You did so well, Binnie," you say to him softly, lacing your fingers with his and giving him a little squeeze. He groans against you quietly, gradually coming back to himself and returning your squeeze of affection.

"That was pretty hot, not going to lie," he said, a shy and embarrassed tint to his voice.

"Mhm, it was incredibly hot. Though, you did make a mess. And you know what you need to do whenever you make a mess, Binnie," you say, glancing at him over your shoulder with mischievous and expectant eyes.

A deep satisfaction washes over you when you see his cheeks flush a dark red but, he nods. Thus, you roll onto your back and spread your thighs for him. His cum decorating your skin and, adding more fuel to the want that's been building inside of you since this all started.

Your friend settles on his stomach between your thighs, looking at you through his dark locks before beginning to clean his mess.

#seo changbin smut #changbin smut #stray kids smut

336 notes · View notes

hellsbroadcaster · 9 days

Note

~~Do you have favorite blogs? ~~Do you have favorite threads? ~~Do you have favorite ships?

Guilty As Charged- MUN EDITION || ACCEPTING

oh boy howdy do I

Do you have favorite blogs?

@videoaux - my vox <3 opal is SOOOO wonderful!! they were one of the first I really got to interact with and it was completely sinful and unhinged and I loved every second of it <3 I'm counting the days they are free from the clutches of school so I can have them all to myself again !! nnfkldsnfds They are such a wonderful Vox and we have planned and written so much for these boys, seriously I can't wait to start sharing the things we got for you guys on the dash <3 I love them soooo muchhh !!

@xluciifer - Luci got me under her spell, I'm hooked. im a simp it cant be helped. I adore her blog, and her lucifer. She's so wonderful and before we even started writing or talking I just kind of admired her from afar? she's such a force and a light to this fandom. its so refreshing to see how loved she is, and just how much she loves everyone too. she does so much to keep everyone involved, to make everyone feel special. i hope she doesn't forget to share some of that love with herself because she deserves it truly.

@veneror - I need Jack to know they are such a PHENNOMAL writer that is has me EATING MY FISTS. They are so poetic, and they write in a way that's captivating, it takes you to a whole other world. I lose myself in it, and i feel like they challenge me to do the same. And truthfully i love what I come up with when we write. I love talking about our ships, with Angel and Eve. And I am so desperate to start writing that AU with Alastor and Eve BECAUSE PLS?? I adore their blog, they just have such a wonderful grasp on all their muses.

blogs that I love just seeing on my dash in general @lilitophidian, @girlishgiggle, @discoinfernos, @gctchell, @edenpoise, @cannibalxroses, @fearedelight, @sixwingedmercy @arachnaemboss, @zestials, @multipalz, @ciircex, @demonsdealings, @unholi, @damnedrainbows, @hzbinsouled, @helluvamulti, THERE'S SO MANY MORE FBSDLFNSDL

Do you have favorite threads?

I don't have a whole lot going on, namely because they are all very long lol. Basically every thread I have with my partners thus far.

Do you have favorite ships?

I'm sorry radiostatic just has a very special place in my heart. I really love them sobs. Its the kind of dynamic i live for.

Radioapple is another big one I am really enjoying and look forward to fleshing them out with @xluciifer :3

I have really started to love Radiogarden? my poor attempt at a ship name. Alastor and Eve !! They just have a very special spark that I am itching to write out more.

Radiodust is another <3

Guilty ships I lowkey want more of --- Alastor and Lilith.

Radiorose

and lowkey have been tempted to dip my toes in charlastor fnkdslfs IVE SEEN SOME CUTE ASS ART AND I'VE BEEN CONTEMPLATING.

#⌜we have another caller⌟ . // answered asks #sixwingedmercy #thank you for sending this in love <3

15 notes · View notes

chiyoso · 6 months

Text

HALL OF FAVORITE WRITERS

▶PLAY. contains personal letters to each person tagged.

▶NOTE. yes, there was absolutely no need to make this, but i wanted to, just to show how deep my love is for the writing fandom, and those who i've encountered along the way.

▶EXTRAS. yes, i'll be adding more writers. too much people have impacted me and left me in awe. been wanting to do this for a damn good while too. (totally not making this as a shortcut so i can go to all of your blogs & stories with ease.)

i. 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 — @teapartyspilled

SFW, R-18; Genshin Impact Writer.

♡ letter ! nat, i don't know how many times i've said this, but that day, the day where i read your alhaitham oneshot, you truly, truly had inspired me that time, back then i was still in contemplation to return to playing genshin, i wasn't that much of an alhaitham nerd even, but that- that fic, it seriously broadened my views towards writing and fanfiction by so, so much. you literally opened a whole new world for me, inspired me to the point where i began pursuing writing too, i cannot stress that enough, and with that, thank you, thank you and thank you. i hope you're doing okay nat with how life is going for you, ILY, stay safe.

♡ recs; ICONIC two-part Lyney angst that GENUINELY MADE ME CRY SO HARD IN BOTH PARTS. Scaramouche Angst Series (heh made me hate scara for a bit, Alhaitham oneshot that kickstarted it all for me.

ii. 𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐄 — @ainescribe / @lychniis

SFW, R-18; Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail Writer.

♡ letter ! AINE. One of my first few supporters who supported my first work (Cynosure's Ascendance), wrote so much sweet things to me in my time of need, and also a fucking AMAZING writer. how the fffuuuck did you even manage find me??? SHIT like, i was no one, i was new to tumblr, and then somehow you managed to find the very first fic i wrote where my inexperience was VISIBLE to everyone, even to you—whose fics left me mind fucking blown from how skillful, poetic and your words can be. Fuck Aine, thank you for your continuous support to me, even if i haven't been so damn interacted, ilysm ilysm ILY.

♡ recs; This made me cry (i love you neuvi, zhongli). THIS made me cry harder. THIS STOPPED THE TEARS. THIS was so fucking impactful for me (zhongli oneshot).

iii. 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — @wanderingconstellations

SFW, R-18; Genshin Impact, Honkai Star Rail Writer.

♡ letter ! YUAAAA MY CRUSH. MY WANDERER. HEHE. YUA YUA YUA was one of many smut writers that kickstarted my obsessions towards Wanderer/Scaramouche, AND the one who made me think “Mmm... maybe I can write smut for Scara next time,” so YEAH. YOU'RE A WHOLE ASS INSPIRATION TO ME TOO!!!! Let's not forget your sweet ass asks and interactions with me, making me all blush n' all that. I've been noticing your absence lately too, I hope everything outside tumblr is okay, and I wish for limitless opportunities of positive choices to you!!! (I miss you and I hope you're really enjoying the banner I made for you <3)

♡ recs; Threesome with Wanderer & Scaramouche that keeps satisfying me til' now. Breeding w/Scaramouche after he consoles you (My ask). Manipulating Bully!Scara (My ask). Lyney HC THAT MADE ME BLUSH SO HARD.

iv. 𝐅𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐎 — @fueledbysano

SFW, R-18; Tokyo Revengers, JJK, AoT, Bluelock Writer.

♡ letter ! i plead guilty, your honor. i haven't interacted with you as much, but i really, really genuinely loved reading your tokyo revenger works robyn. you're actually one of the reasons that made me explore more of my writing styles, hence the creation of my hsr fic 'the mara's will' - i created it just perhaps a few days or weeks after reading your if/then series, you inspired and impacted me a FUCK TON TOO. you're also the main reason why i started to take things a bit more seriously and realistically in a writing aspect, given the message you telling me about the words power hold? yeah, that message changed me. thank you for existing and being a writer, robyn. <3

♡ recs; her if/then mikey series. i had a long ass manila mikey-crush phase because of this HNNH. THIS manila mikey bday oneshot hit fucking home.

v. 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐙 — @antimatterz

SFW; Honkai Star Rail Writer.

♡ letter ! HIII!!! hi enyoo!! i haven't interacted with you a lot, but as a reader (AND FAN) of your works, i seriously SERIOUSLY love the way you write, as well as the poetic goodness you bring in your works!!! your specialty? bringing so, so much comfort with a set story. i was in a state of spiraling depression and was going through a rough breakup when i read your fics, it was after the blade banner too, (the start of my blade obsession cough) so reading your self aware AUs, genuinely impacted me so much at the time, hence inspiring me to make that one jing yuan self aware au comfort fic. you're one of those impactful writers, please remember that! thank you ily <3

♡ recs; all of their self aware hsr AUs (heh) they're all SO comforting it hurts. AND her normal fics, i envy your poetics so much hnn. THIS SELF AWARE BLADE ONE IS MY FAVORITE OUT OF ALL.

vi. 𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐖𝐙𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐙 — @meowzfordayz

SFW, R-18; Demon Slayer, Jujutsu Kaisen, MHA Writer.

♡ letter ! fuuuck i haven't interacted with you in awhile too, BUT PLEASE ALLOW ME TO PRAISE YOUR WORK IMMENSELY. i also... couldn't find your tanjiro poetry fic, i wanted to include it in too hnngh. okay but PLEASE KNOW YOUR WRITING IS SO- IT LEAVES ME SO SATISFIED SO MUCHHH!!! i don't know how to word it, but its just... your writing genuinely leaves me full of emotion depending on the genre, like you know how you eat good ass food, your mouth wants more but you can't cause you've been well fed? YEAH THAT, but with emotions. I FUCKING WANT MORE FROM YOUUUUU RAHHH, another explanation is like- the warmth is addictive??? the bubbly, gushy feelings after reading your fic- its so addictive, its why i suddenly yk, come bursting your notifs at random times PFF sorry!!!

♡ recs; my emergency req (sanemi) fuck i was such in a low place at the time. THIS ONE WAS SO FUCKING HEART WARMING AND i just ADORE his characterization here RAHHHH. your honor, if i were to die, let it be near my man sanemi shinazugawa, ty. POETRY W/TANJIRO.

vii. 𝐕𝟑𝐋𝐕𝟑𝐓𝐅𝟎𝐗 — @v3lv3tf0x

SFW, R-18; Writer for a lot of fandoms heheh.

♡ letter ! fuck, you're kinda proving to be my no. 1 most interactive mutual pfft, i've seen you hover eagerly around my blog, always quick to gnaw at my updates, reblogs, all that—WHICH I FIND HEAVILY ENDEARING AND YOUR SUPPORT BRINGS NOTHING BUT GIDDY, ACCOMPANIED WITH DELIGHT. that and you are so damn underrated its insane, no matter what, you are an amazing writer, and i hope numbers won't stray you off from that opinion of mine. genuinely, when you sent off that gojo drabble of a depressive reader pov, shit, did i mention i had a crying spree at the end? i first felt happy finishing the fic because it was inspired by my words, then the dread settled in, the shittiness of my situation, cried a fuckton, then after i calmed down, i went something along the lines of “fuck, shit, that was a good ass crying session” THEN i asked for an alternative good end (since i'm not the type to push people away) FUCK IM RAMBLING OMFG NOT AGAIN

♡ recs; at my time of need, you put out such a HEAVILY comforting satoru fic- or drabble, either way, this one is close to my heart. here's the alternate end to the 1st link nnh.

viii. 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐘𝐒𝐌 — @vampyrsm

SFW, R-18; Jujutsu Kaisen, MHA, Obey Me Writer.

♡ letter ! its like im writing to a celebrity who doesn't know my existence, but you do. fffuuuuuckkk can i just say how much of a SKILLFUL WRITER you are????? the research you have to do for cor unum, perhaps even greek mythology to your other fics- you put so much calculative thought into your work and word building its INSANE. i aspire to write like you (tough aspiration considering my consistent burnout) BUT EITHER WAY, you're so admirable, i love how you handle gorey, realistic topics, and even if its just fanfiction? the realism is just so scrumptious, you're one of many major inspirations why i've decided to try and handle sensitive topics like cor unum too! and with whatever you're going through- prevail.

just like how sukuna would.

♡ recs; cor unum. cor unum. cor fucking unum. did i mention cor unum? this is a series i fucking wait for EAGERLY in each update (sukuna x you). greek mythology x bakugo is hot as hell HNNGHHFF.

HAH. ty coffee for letting me stay alive by the time i published this, which was somewhere 5am, i need a fucking snack (gojo) 'n yeah, ill be adding more writers since there's still a lot more i wanna mention, BUT I NEED TO PASS OUT NOW TYVM BYE

#— [THE MOON SHINES WITH ORDER] ••#` 2023 CHIYOSO. All media made by me.

38 notes · View notes

nozunhinged · 2 months

Text

9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better:

@mikuni14 my beloved mikuni, always feeding into my narcissistic heart THANK YOU AND BLESS YOU 💖🌸

3 Ships You Like

There are only three so have them all lol. But you can rest assured they consume every inch of my being.

1. iwaoi (the reason why this blog exists and I'm making my fandom experience everyone's problem. I seriously contemplated getting a 41 tattooed.)

2. ZongyiZerui (my strawberry boy and mafia kitty, you'll forever reside in my heart 🐈🍓)

3. Billybabe (the bane of my existence, my biggest bias and everything I always sworn I'll never do: adore real people who I know nothing about. BUT THEY ARE SO DARN CUTE DAMMNIT!!)

First Ship Ever

Imagine my surprise when I learned 15 years too late that reading spicy fanfiction of Vegeta & Bulma is what you call the classic fandom experience. My teenage self missed out on so much community love. Also I can't remember if Taito came first, but they were my gay awakening for sure. Again, I contemplated getting Yamatos friendship crest tattooed.

Last Song You Heard

Bro, this guy dares to have a song called obsessed when I am indeed, literally obsessed with it. You need to watch love is better the second time around and then go and listen to Ayumu imazu. It's a fucking trip.

Favorite Childhood Book: Frederick. Frederick is a little mouse who collects colours and warm memories when all the other mice carry food into their winter cocoon. All his mouse friends mock him for it but in the end, when the food is gone, Frederick and his dreamy heart bring all the mice through winter. It impacted me deeply. I still cry when I read it at 33.

Currently Reading: Da Ge by Priest, the novel to the Taiwanese BL series that's currently airing on Viki. Although I have to put it away every 5 seconds because I can't decide if I want to watch or read the ending first. It's such a damn good story.

Currently watching: Oh dear. Let me ask MDL...

- Unknown (Viki)

- Love is better the second time around (gaga)

- deep night (iqiyi)

- 23.5 (yt)

- my boss (Viki)

Currently consuming: too much stress, too much food, too much work, too many series and definitely not enough fresh air

Currently craving: kitty cuddles, I'm not home and I hate it

Always tagging the same peeps I secretly admire but never talk to, OFC without any pressure 🥰

@autisticbokutoenthusiast @clowncroccharms @blneobin @daenanae @guzhufuren @lugarn @negrowhat @scarefox @sparklyeyedhimbo @lukaherehelp @bunnakit @chaos0pikachu

#tag game #iwaoi #taito #unknown the series

14 notes · View notes

inaflashimagine · 2 years

Text

true soma

pairing: eddie munson x g/n reader (though f!reader at the end/smut)

summary: as part of your writing business, you wrote eddie munson's english essay for $20. the problem was, you got caught by the loving ms. o'donnell. the only way to escape expulsion for plagiarism? becoming an english tutor for eddie 'the freak' munson.

word count: 14.5k (help)

warnings: includes the classic stressors and existential crises that come with being a high school senior applying to college, swearing, few substance use references and lots of book references (and a discussion) by two nerds. nsfw part at the end: oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (oops), hypocritical, inexperienced reader making fun of their inexperienced boyfriend, mentions of handcuffs(?)

a/n: I come out of a year-long writing hiatus on this blog only to write my longest one-shot ever...for a 3d character! At the end of the day, Eddie Munson is a dorky metalhead that leads a group of equally-dorky (but endearing) nerds, so I hope that somewhat came through.

“Please see me after class.”

There was never a time you’d like to hear those words, but receiving them from a frowning Ms. O’Donnell just after the first two weeks of your senior year of high school was less than ideal.

You deluded your anxious self into thinking that your AP Lit teacher wanted to share some information with you regarding college applications. Or that the reason you were the only student who wasn’t handed back their essay on the making of John Proctor as a tragic hero in The Crucible was due to its poignant, publication-worthy analysis that moved its grader to tears.

All those (ir)rationalizations were immediately thrown out the window upon seeing a certain, eccentric person rush into a classroom that everyone but you had now left.

“Ms. O’Donnell! How are you on this fine day?” His growing smile only seemed to further aggravate the visibly annoyed recipient of the question. And when he nodded and offered a wide grin your way, your blood ran cold.

Because you knew what was about to occur was far from fine.

“It could be much worse, Mr. Munson, even if it is only ten in the morning.”

When Ms. O’Donnell retrieved two essays from a thick stack of papers, sweat began to form on your forehead as she scolded, “Though I’m afraid the same could not be said for the two of you.”

“And why’s that?” speculated an oblivious Eddie as you seriously contemplated if the man who flunked high school twice was acting stupid or that genuinely dumb. “Aren’t I next to the smartest nerd in Hawkins? President of the Honor Society? It can’t be that serious.”

“Well, Mr. Munson, that statement provides further evidence of why you would hire said student to write your English essay.”

The smile on Eddie’s face immediately swiped off his face, much like the way you felt the ground give way beneath you as a silently fuming Ms. O’Donnell aggressively returned your respective papers.

Only the pages in your trembling hands did not thoroughly discuss the flaws and adulterous sins of John Proctor but provided a horrible retelling of the adventures of Huckleberry Finn in an essay that was intentionally written to barely deserve a C-.

And the most damning part: the paper was purported to be written by “Edward Munson”.

“Oh, I see what’s wrong, Ms. O’Donnell,” Eddie dared to say, a lackadaisical smirk on his face as he pointed to the main title on the cover page he was holding. You swore you saw him (poorly) wink at you before he blathered, “It’s a classic switch-a-roo, a simple mistake. Who is John Proctor? You should give this to him, the dude must be sweating about his grade.”

Ms. O’Donnell’s eye twitched as yours widened. “Mr. Munson, plagiarism is not some silly joke and can result in suspension or expulsion for the both of you.” Knowing she wouldn’t get any answers from him, her stern expression now faced you. “Care to explain why he turned in your AP Lit essay while you gave me his Academic English Lit paper?”

Yet no explanation, or even lie, would get you out of this sticky situation. The truth was simple, really: you charged Eddie “The Freak” Munson $10–plus a $10 rush fee deposit–to write a shitty three-page paper on Huck Finn.

“You want it to get a C?” you remembered asking him, confusion evident on your face as you scrutinized the energetic man before you.

How dare he approach your lunch table in broad daylight while he incessantly poked at the hole in his distressed jeans, occasionally munched on a pretzel, and made such a preposterous request?

“Did anyone ever tell you how my business actually works?”

His amused grin offended you even more, if that were possible. “‘It’s an A or you don’t pay’, got it loud and clear. But from one entrepreneur to another, it’s not the, uh, best branding–”

“–Excuse me?”

“C’mon, look at me”–he jutted two wagging thumbs toward himself while he looked at you and your baffled friends, wild, brown eyes way too happy over his self-deprecating comment–“do I look like someone who would suddenly write an A+ paper in a course I’ve failed twice?”

After a few solid seconds, you sighed and resigned to his request, before clarifying to the fist-pumping man, “Forcing me to downgrade my writing in less than twenty-four hours will be subjected to expedited service fees.”

Besides, you needed extra money to get a new typewriter, based on the alarming number of essays you were cranking out on your current worn one. At this rate, you’d be able to get one of those fancy computers.

Eddie barked out a jubilant laugh at that, lips curving upward as he said, “I’m only letting you rob me because that’s a clever charge I might start using in my business.”

You wondered if he still thought you were a clever entrepreneur or the ‘smartest nerd in Hawkins’ as you blankly stared at a scowling Ms. O’Donnell, feeling too stupefied to conjure some fantastical story–or excuse, in this case–that the Dungeon Master was accustomed to doing on a daily basis.

Because there was no way you were going to explain that your sleep deprived brain must’ve given Eddie the wrong paper right before classes started. That your tired mind–consumed with worry about the biology exam you had next period–forgot to double check the content of the writing in your hands before accidentally adding the wrong paper to the growing pile of essays at the end of your English class.

Of course, he should’ve also checked the essay you had given him. Any of your other customers would at least perform a cursory glance before handing you the money. Still, you had to shoulder some of the blame for having been unusually careless at an activity that required the utmost discretion and vigilance.

But you’d never admit a mistake like that.

“Please don’t report us,” you blurted out instead, ignoring Munson’s incredulous “Christ!” and exasperation aimed toward your implicit confession.

Ms. O’Donnell pursed her lips, disapproving eyes considering your nervous figure and Eddie’s cursing one. You closed your eyes, clenched hands anxiously awaiting the verdict that would throw out all of the work you put in for four years.

Snatching the two papers she had returned earlier, she acquiesced, “I guess submitting that plagiarism report would be more painful than grading these papers and having to teach Mr. Munson for yet another year.”

Right before you and Eddie could exhale a sigh of relief and utter an endless stream of thank you’s, Ms. O’Donnell raised one finger as if to silence the both of you. “But I have one binding condition, aside from the fact that you’ll never commit plagiarism again.”

“Yes, of course, I’ll do anything,” you pleaded while a weary Eddie muttered, “Well, shit.”

You realized you should’ve bit back your words after hearing the worst stipulation proposed in the history of Hawkins, and possibly all of mankind.

“You must tutor Mr. Munson in English for the rest of the year.”

“You’re late,” you sighed dejectedly, glaring daggers at the smiling culprit banging his black lunchbox on the library table, “again.”

“My bad, a…transaction took a bit longer than I was expecting.” He pulled out the chair across from you, ignoring the librarian’s admonishment of his not-so-quiet voice. Rather, his gaze solely remained on you, the puppy-like excitement on his face just begging you to ask for more details.

Instead of taking the bait, you pressed, “Where’s your copy of Frankenstein? You didn’t even bring a pencil.”

Eddie actually pouted at you before murmuring a phrase that sounded eerily close to ‘party pooper’. “I don’t even need the book, it was an easy read so I remember most of it. And I, uh, may have lost the pencil you gave me.”

You’re not sure what your bemused “Huh?” was a response to, but it’s enough to get him talking about the book with a passion you’d only seen whenever he rambled about the current campaign he was running for his club.

“Look, there’s never shame in running away from your problems, but Victor’s reason for running is the shameful part. Abandoning your creation because he looks like a freak? The scientist is the true monster, if you know what I mean.”

Eddie, folded arms on the table, inched closer to you, adding in a fervent tone, “But the best part? The creature saying, ‘I will be with you on your wedding night.’ Very metal thing to do.”

Though you tried your best to conceal your surprised smile, your face betrayed you.

It had only been a month since Ms. O’Donnell forced this arrangement on the both of you, and the first two weeks had been an absolute disaster. It was a good day when Eddie actually showed up to your thrice weekly one-hour sessions at the typically empty library. But once Ms. O’Donnell threatened to take away his club privileges if he received one more F on a homework assignment, a reluctant Munson began arriving five to ten minutes late, muttering how English was the bane of his existence.

The remaining fifty minutes would then be spent on trying to pull a restless Munson back into the world of the books you were trying to analyze. Sitting still was a foreign concept to him. Only three things seemed to occupy his mind at all times: Hellfire, his B.C. Rich Warlock, and “running away from shitty Hawkins High”. It was in those instances that you were convinced that nothing substantial ever came out of his brain, or his blabbering mouth.

But in moments like these, where Eddie enjoyed discussing the mandatory literature as much as he loved shredding his guitar or annoying the jocks, you realized his head offered more than just a placeholder for his untamed hair.

Eddie Munson wasn’t a dumb dork, he was just a lazy one.

And you could definitely work with that.

“You know what? You’re actually right for once.” Sliding a loose leaf paper to a bewildered and blinking Eddie, you handed him a pencil and suggested, “So why don’t you write all of that down?”

–

“Dude! DUDE!”

Completely unaware that you were the dude in question, you closed your locker door only to startle upon finding a psyched Eddie beaming at you.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Never said you didn’t,” he quipped, now deciding to say your last name while you rolled your eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You pulled your calculus textbook closer to your chest, increasingly cognizant of the stares you two were getting from nearby students.

Aside from the teacher who decided to punish you in the first place, only three other people knew about the tutoring ordeal. To explain why you’d be absent for at least three hours a week after school, you kept your two friends, Maggie and Christopher, and the other editor-in-chief of the Weekly Streak, Nancy Wheeler, in the loop.

And while you didn’t think you were someone who concerned themselves with popularity and image at Hawkins High, you shuddered at the rumors already formulating in everyone’s head.

Spreading gossip that tried to piece together why a straight-A student would be talking to a drug dealer like Eddie “The Freak” Munson.

If Eddie noticed your stiffened shoulders and nervous glances he didn’t mention it, instead raising a piece of paper as he smugly said, “Just look at this.”

The first thing you saw was the big, red ‘C-’–a grade that occasionally appeared in your nightmares–on a Frankenstein pop quiz.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, taking the quiz from him to scan his sloppily written answers, temporarily forgetting all worries as a triumphant Eddie grinned at your widening eyes. In fact, you were shocked to find yourself agreeing with Ms. O’Donnell’s ‘Not Bad!’ comment underneath the grade. “You passed!”

“Hell yeah I did! Told you it was an easy read.”

“Alright, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, there.”

It took a surprising amount of self restraint to not laugh at Eddie feigning hurt as he gripped his chest. “Must you wound me so? Don’t you torture me enough?”

“Apparently not, since your ego got so inflated with just one passing grade.” To soften the blow, you offered a small smile. “But this is progress. How about we call off today’s session, to celebrate?”

Eddie perked up at that. “Seriously?”

You shrugged before handing him back the quiz, avoiding any brushing of fingers in such a public setting. Even though most students seemed to have returned to their own conversations and tasks, it didn’t hurt to be careful.

“Yeah, why not? I’ll have free time for once. If Ms. O’Donnell asks I'll just say I tutored you during our study period.”

“Hey, maybe we should say that more often.”

Just as you’re ready to reject his idea, Eddie claimed, “I’m kidding, sheesh!” before returning your smile, appreciation evident in his eyes. “But, uh, thanks. I owe you one.”

“I’ll remember that,” you muttered at his retreating figure, confused at the new wave of emotions replacing the jangled nerves wracking your body a few minutes ago.

Because there was no rational explanation as to why you were sad about canceling a tutoring session with Hawkin’s most pathetic dork.

None at all.

–

“They said you were trying to get stoned with the freak.”

Maggie’s appalled tone made you cackle, covering your mouth with your hand when her eyebrows narrowed, as if waiting for your side of the story.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe that rumor, I’d never get high in the middle of a school day,” you sighed, shifting your gaze to which drink you should choose from the convenience store. “Especially since I almost got expelled for breaking another school rule just two months ago. I think I learned my lesson.”

“The thing is, I don’t know what to believe in lately.” Maggie called for your name, exasperated when you opened the fridge door to grab a Coke instead of paying attention to her. “You barely hang out with us anymore.”

“Not true!” supplied your savior Christopher, who popped in from the snacks aisle and wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulder. “You’re just upset we missed your pom-poms routine last week.”

“It’s called cheerleading, dumbass,” retorted Maggie, crossing her arms as she glared back at you. “And Chris was obviously playing on the football field, but you promised you would go.”

You winced, guilt evident in your next words. “I’m sorry, Mag, but you know I was busy with tutoring and the early action deadline. Since I mailed the application, I’ll see you next time.”

“That doesn’t matter, you’re going to tonight’s party with us!” Chris placed your brown fedora hat on his head before lifting his arm to give you a noogie, much to your chagrin. “Gotta make sure you know how to let loose before heading off to YALE!”

“Chris, stop!” you choked out, though relief washed over you after seeing his antics got Maggie to laugh.

Once you got your accessory back from Chris, you quietly added, “I won’t hear from them ‘til December. And I doubt a school filled with that many nerds party a lot, even on Halloween.”

He grinned, blue eyes swimming with a mirth that seamlessly fit the Danny Zuko costume he was wearing. “Your words, not mine. I’m gonna get some cigs, anyone coming?”

“Wait, Jason told us to get a six-pack, don’t forget!” Maggie dragged Chris further down to the alcohol section, her teased, blond curls bouncing with each step as you wondered how she effortlessly moved in those leather pants.

“I’m gonna pay for my stuff,” you told them, preferring to let your friends play out their lives as Danny Zuko and Sandy Olson. (And before they started arguing on which brand to get.)

Deciding to wait for them outside, you leaned against the brick wall of the 7-Eleven, taking a sip of your drink…

“Freddy Kruger?”

…before promptly spitting it out after hearing a familiar voice.

“Eddie, what the hell?” you shouted, miffed by his loud cackling as you tried to assess the damage on your red and green striped sweater.

He stood up from his doubled-over figure, pretending to wipe away a stray tear. “I thought I was supposed to be spooked.”

“I left my glove in Chris’s car, but my nails are just as deadly, you long-haired freak!”

“Sureeee, I’ll lock the door to my van before I leave.”

“I’ll get you long before then.”

Eddie’s lips curved upwards at the baseless threat. His eyes did a quick once-over, clearly amused. “Last time I checked, Kruger was supposed to be ugly and scary. This might be the first assignment you’ve ever failed.”

You felt your face warm, unsure how to process those words. Was that a compliment? An insult?

Both?

Not wanting to reveal your short-circuiting, you countered, “And what are you supposed to be? At least I’m somewhat creative.”

As if on cue, Eddie dug around the pockets of his leather jacket and put on circular shades, animatedly raising both of his arms to show off his rings and black-painted fingernails while he bellowed, “Ozzy, of course!”

Although you rolled your eyes, you couldn’t help but softly chuckle, deeming his costume as “Very metal” before he asked why you’re dressed up.

“No offense, but you don’t seem like the going-out type. And on a Thursday night?” He covered his gaping mouth with his hand, gasping, “How scandalous!”

Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, looking at the man next to you. “I don’t go out as much as Maggie and Chris, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to do it once in a while.”

“Respect, no judgment here. And Halloween’s a classic.”

“Right?” you agreed, smiling with Eddie. “But I’m kinda bummed that as you grow up, you trade in king-sized candy bars for cheap beer.”

Eddie lowered his shades as you saw him grab more items from his seemingly infinitely large pockets. “Hey, I know you’re the one who’s teaching me English Lit, but I thought I taught you about forced conforming.”

Just as you were about to ask what the hell he was ranting about, Eddie grabbed your hand and placed a long, rectangular bar on your palm.

Trying your best to ignore his warm touch that made your chest constrict, you laughed at the Snickers bar in front of you as you snorted out a thanks.

“It’s nothing,” he casually dismissed, right before you swiftly snuff out the recently lit cigarette he just placed in his mouth.

Aghast, he pouted, “That’s how you repay me? You monster!”

“The real monster is lung cancer, you dork, it’s for your own good.” As consolation, you gave him your Coke can, “which might also cause cancer, but at least it’s not lung cancer.”

Eddie laughed, though you weren’t able to hear his jest over Maggie’s yelling of your name.

“Sorry, gotta go.” Brushing off your pants, you slowly began to walk your friends who finally found you and urged you to hurry up.

Yet that didn’t feel right.

Inhaling sharply, you quickly turned around and mustered the courage to ask, “Why don’t you come to the party tonight?”

You wish you were able to see his eyes, covered by those ridiculous shades. But his dramatic head tilt spoke enough. “Me? Going to Jason’s party to hang out with the popular kids? Sounds like it goes against my own personal Munson doctrine.”

“But you’d be hanging out with me. I swear I’m a bit more fun than them, at least enough to be an exception to your little principles.”

“I don’t need any assurance on that,” he said, an almost sad-like smile on his face. “Maybe I’ll stop by after my gig.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” You gave a small wave before running toward Chris and Maggie, the latter instantly questioning why you were talking to Freaky Munson as soon as Chris drove out of the gas station.

“That’s not Eddie, that’s Ozzy,” you replied, unwrapping the Snickers bar and taking a bite out of it to hide your smirk.

“Who?” Her nose wrinkled, as if trying to sift through the pages of the student yearbook in her head. “Is he a senior?”

Chris chuckled knowingly as you cheekily answered, “Yeah, he’s coming to the party tonight.”

You wished the lie didn’t include that part, hating the sinking feeling in your stomach when Ozzy was nowhere to be found in Jason’s crowded house.

–

“I freaking love this book,” was a phrase you never thought you’d hear come out of Eddie’s mouth. “But Ms. O’Donnell assigning an essay right before Thanksgiving is pure evil.”

You snickered, way too entertained at the sight of Eddie repeatedly banging his head against his copy of Brave New World. “If you love it so much, then writing five pages on it shouldn't be too bad.”

He lifted his head to look at you, tangled hair masking the disbelief painted across his face. “I’m 95% certain you and Ms. O’Donnell are Mustapha Mond, trying to restrict my free will and deprive me of true happiness.”

Though you’d never outright tell him this, hearing his absurd, embellished statements made these tutoring sessions feel less like a chore and more like hanging out with a friend.

Friend. Pairing that word with Eddie Munson felt like an abstract mathematical concept your confused mind was trying to comprehend; you doubt it would sound less foreign if you were to actually say it to him.

But there was no doubt that these sessions were a lot more fun than in the beginning of the year. When Eddie realized that he would be granted five (more like ten) minutes of non-academic chatting in exchange for five minutes of work, he tried putting effort in his brainstorming or writing. He might even work a bit harder when it was a sci-fi or fantasy book, the only two genres he truly liked.

And talking with him oddly felt natural.

He let you vent about the pressure you felt from your parents to be the perfect student and child, despite the fact that they were hardly home. In turn, he disclosed his own current gripes. (“Tell me about it, my uncle keeps on fussing about me making a mess and using up all the hot water. You know, I should get a place of my own.”)

And he heard your fears on how all the money you saved from odd jobs and your writing services wouldn’t be enough for college, since your well-off parents decided that bestowing such a financial responsibility to you ‘builds character’. (“Not cool for your parents to do. What’s the point of being rich then? College is a scam, anyway. And you want to go to law school? You really like school, don’t you?”)

He sympathized with your complaints on Maggie’s inability to confess her crush to Chris... (“I’m afraid Sinclair is slowly turning to the dark side, he mentioned something about joining the basketball team.” A pause. “You wouldn’t want to be his Hellfire sub this Thursday, by any chance? No? Well, uh, that’s unfortunate. Your loss, really.”)

…Or listened to your frustration about Nancy choosing Fred Benson over George Davis as the Managing Editor for the Weekly Streak. (“Wheeler did what? I’m sorry, but I have no freaking clue what you’re talking about.”)

And you actually enjoyed the constant mindless spats with him; whether it’d be better to be a book nerd or a D&D nerd (you obviously won that argument); how vapid the jocks were (you loved Chris and some of his football friends, but basketball captain Jason was definitely an example of all brawn but no brain); or which alien movie was the best (he claimed that Ripley’s badassery was one of best highlights in Alien while you swore by the perfect mix of intelligent characters and the right amount of horror in The Thing).

Ironically enough, your favorite parts always revolved around book discussions. Though these tutoring sessions were required by Ms. O’Donnell, it was surprisingly fun to hear Eddie’s opinions. They weren’t like the contrived contributions you had heard countless times from your classmates during discussions and presentations. Sure, they were far from articulate, but what genuine, spontaneous thought was?

With each idea you felt like you were getting to know more about Eddie and his perspective on life, an outlook so different from others that you continued to be intrigued.

“Well, I’m not sure if Mustapha Mond is the best comparison, considering that the World State would shock their babies if they even touched a book,” you responded. “If anything, I feel like I relate more to Helmholtz’s struggle to express his intense feelings in a society devoid of such emotion.”

Leaning your head against your palm, you smirked as you imagined the gears furiously turning in Eddie’s head.

“Ah, so you agree that there’s no free will in their society?” he spoke after a solid minute, finger extended toward you as if in a ‘gotcha’ moment. “If you don’t fit in or conform to your stupid caste, you’re either forced to leave or you end up dying like good ol’ Johnny boy because you’re so miserable. You call that happy?”

“Free will and happiness aren’t always linked, though. Because of soma, most of society was happy with their position–”

“Because they were ignorant. Does that make them truly happy?”

“Well, how would you define happiness?”

Eddie scoffed as if you were asking him what color the sky was. “The freedom to be yourself and not care what others think. Why, you think differently?”

You mulled the question in your head, before concluding, “I’m not sure. I just know when I’m happy, I’m not in pain and everything feels stable around me.”

“That sounds like you’re content, which isn’t happiness,” Eddie countered. His intense gaze made you uneasy, brown eyes indecipherable. “Don’t you want more than that?”

“Of course I do,” you said, rather defensively, “but we’re not getting that in Hawkins.”

“And you think you’ll get it at that pretentious college with students that are worse than the rich douchebags in this town?”

“Yes, because Yale,” you corrected, “has one of the best English departments in the country. I would be able to take so many courses in creative writing! Hawkins has the Hawkins Post. ”

Eddie scratched his head, suspicious eyes narrowed as he questioned, “I thought you wanted to major in Political Science?”

You faltered for a second, astonished he even remembered that. Did he see through your facade?

“R-right, that’s what I meant. I doubt law schools would care, anyway. I’d still meet teachers and friends who’d respect and support my dream of being a lawyer.”

“But why do you still care so much about what others think? To conform to their mindset?” he pressed on, irritation starting to gnaw at you.

“Because, unlike you”–you rose from your seat, packing up your things as you averted his gaze and furiously whispered–“there’s people that I care about. God forbid I want to be normal and make my friends and parents happy. Your method of running away just creates more problems!��

“Oh, so you think I’m some evil freak?” He stood in your way, preventing you from leaving the library. Of course, the librarian wasn’t at her desk to intervene.

So you stared straight at him, jaw set as your hands tightly gripped the straps of your backpack. “You want the truth, Munson?”

He crossed his arms before having the audacity to roll his eyes at you. “The floor is yours! Clearly you think you’re smarter than me.”

“That’s not true,” you shot back, pressing a finger against his chest, “but what’s true is that you think the whole world is out to get you, when there’s people who care about you. Gareth, Jeff, Mike, Dustin.”

You gulped, closing your eyes and dropping your hand from his chest as you whispered, “Me.” Opening your eyes, you looked at his dumbfounded expression as you finished, “People do care for you. But you’re too eager about running away to realize and admit it, you coward.”

Right before his stunned self could say anything, you violently blinked away your blurry vision and asked, “There, are you happy with that answer, Munson?”

At least the one thing you were thankful for this Thanksgiving break was that you wouldn’t need to see him anytime soon.

–

“–and Chrissy’s upset that Jason’s been so focused on preparing for the season, he even held a practice today, on Thanksgiving!…I’m speaking to the void, aren’t I?”

You regained the loosening grip on your phone, a surprised “Hm?” leaving you while you sat up from your bed and untangled yourself from the telephone coils.

“What has been going on with you? Are we fighting?”

“Mag, what, why do you think that?”

“Because I tell you my whole life story, and you say one word. One word!”

“No–”

“See what I mean? If you’re angry at me, we can work it–”

“Mags, the only thing you need to be working on is telling Christopher Perkins that you’ve been in love with him for the past three years.”

“Oh, don’t bring that into this! That is low, even for you!”

But hearing her light chuckle across the line showed she wasn’t upset at your daily reminder to get her act together. You laughed, too, before sighing at your own hypocrisy.

A whisper, almost too soft to hear it. “It’s the college stuff, isn’t it? You’re stressed about that?”

“More like I’m having a mid-life crisis at the ripe age of eighteen,” you complained, puffing your cheeks frustratedly as you stared at the ceiling.

How would you even begin to tell her that Eddie’s words a few days ago still rattled you? That his disappointed face–as if he had realized his gut instinct was right, and that you were no different from the popular kids of Hawkins High–was seared into your mind?

You questioned every single choice you made, pondered the motives behind your greatest ambitions.

Did you actually want to be a lawyer? Or were you enticed by the prestige and financial security that came from such a title?

And why were you so hellbent on pleasing others? Why did the respect of your friends and family seem to matter more than your wellbeing?

Just as you felt yourself begin to spiral, Maggie’s concerned voice now a distant buzz in the background, two loud knocks made you jump from your bed.

“Shit!” you cursed, heart hammering out of your chest as you locked onto Eddie Munson’s sheepish eyes behind your window.

“Maggie,” you breathed, hoping she didn’t detect your shaky voice, “Maggie, dinner’s ready, I gotta go. Can’t miss my dad’s cranberry sauce. Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Wait a–”

Hanging up, you rushed to your window to open it, harshly whispering, “You have a lot of nerve showing up after all you said–”

“Can we have this conversation inside, I’m freezing!”

You let Eddie crawl his way to your bedroom floor, your body still fuming as you murmured, “That’s what you get for wearing a leather jacket, you dumb metalhead.”

Your anger then increased when a revelation dawned on you.

“How do you even know where I live? Were you stalking me?”

“What, no!” he whispered back as he stood less than a foot from you, just as annoyed. “The movies make this seem a lot easier than it is. But Mike Wheeler was nice enough to tell me you’re neighbors, unlike a certain person I know.”

“When would that ever be relevant information, you creep?”

“Stop calling me a–”

You covered his mouth with one hand, using your other to make a ‘shh’ gesture.

When he made a confused sound, you simply mouthed the word ‘dad’ to Eddie. His comically-widened eyes would’ve calmed your heightened nerves if it weren’t for your name being called by a person whose ascending footsteps grew louder each second.

“Hide,” you urged as Eddie dove straight into your closet while you ran to sit against the headboard of your bed, trying to appear as collected as possible.

“Hey, dad.” You looked up from the book you were supposedly reading, smiling at the confused man who just opened your bedroom door. “Something wrong?”

“I dunno, you tell me. Why’d you scream bloody murder?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. I got off the phone with Maggie and I accidentally stubbed my toe trying to grab this book to read. I’m fine, really.”

You caught his glance toward your open window and mentally cursed at your mistake.

“I didn’t know your room was hot enough to crack that open.”

“It just felt a bit stuffy in here,” you weakly supplied, tugging at the collar of your wool sweater while you cleared your throat that felt drier than sandpaper. “Maybe I should’ve worn less layers.”

“Right…I’m going back to the turkey, should be done in an hour.” He pursed his lips, before gravely adding, “If anyone breaks in, just holler again. I’ll bring out the shotguns in the living room.”

Sighing after the bedroom door shut, you felt your frustration toward Eddie slowly chip away as he shyly peeked his head out of your closet, a mixture of fear, concern, and skepticism in his eyes as he asked, “Shotguns? Plural? In your living room?”

“You’re safe,” you assured him as he began to look around your room, “but why the hell are you here?”

“You have a lot of books,” he muttered instead, eyes continuously flitting to a new growing pile out of the many haphazardly distributed in your room. “Like, a lot of them.”

“Munson…”

He noisily peered at the cassettes next to the Walkman that laid on your desk. “Big Fleetwood Mac fan. No surprise there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

It was almost as if he knew his teasing grin would dissipate some of your anger. “What do you think it means?”

That you had better taste in music than he did. The snarky reply never left your mouth, though you could vividly imagine his over-the-top response that would’ve followed—how his affronted gasp would be paired with him banging the library table in false indignation, desperately trying (for the umpteenth time) to convince you to listen to Judas Priest.

But you two weren’t at the library, and this was no time for banter.

“Eddie…”

“I know, I know, I’ll stop skirting around, just gimme a minute.” As if to give you space, he opted to sit in your desk chair.

After an awkward silence of averted glances and hand wringing, Eddie prefaced, “I’m sorry for the shit I said on Monday. It was crazy and unnecessary. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It was crazy, and it hurt.” You played with the sleeve of your sweater, unsure of where to start yourself. “But I was also mean, and I’m sorry for that. At least you were right about a few things.”

His knitted eyebrows displayed his lack of understanding. “Right about what?”

“I don’t know what I want to do in my life,” you confided, laughing at the instantaneous relief you felt after sharing the haunting thought aloud.

You brought your knees to your chest, sending Eddie a quivering smile. “I’ve spent eighteen years of my life constantly pleasing everyone around me, thinking I’d be a burden if I did otherwise. Constantly afraid of failing, not meeting their expectations.”

“You haven’t failed them.”

“But I’ve failed myself.”

Eddie shook his head, standing from his seat before balking at the empty spot in your bed. When you nodded, he quietly sat across from you, his face the most solemn you’d ever seen him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I made you think you had to have all of life”—he gesticulated wildly, large, brown orbs matching the madness—“figured out. But no one knows what the fuck they’re doing. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. So if someone tries to plan out every single part of your life, fuck them! What authority do they have?”

“And you don’t need to take life advice from a dude who has flunked high school twice…” Eddie nervously twisted the ring on his index finger before giving you a genuine grin. “…but you have time to get it all sorted out. Hey, maybe you’ll get some help from that fancy ass school that will definitely accept you because they’d be stupid not to. And even if they don’t, I know whatever you do will be a hell of a lot better than what most people in this town accomplish.”

You blinked at Eddie, once, two, three times. You then offered the smallest of smiles, not confident that your tightening chest and the lump in your throat would allow you to say anything.

So you hugged him instead, an admittedly awkward embrace with your arms around his neck as you buried your face into his shoulder. But the odd combination of pine, cigarettes, and cheap cologne consumed all your senses, your overactive brain forgetting everything else as it now focused on one thing.

One person.

“You need to stop smoking,” was the first thing you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence, voice muffled as you directly spoke into his vest.

Soft, fluffy hair tickled your cheek while you felt the deep laughter reverberating from his chest.

The arm around your waist briefly tightened. “Maybe that’ll be my New Year’s resolution.”

“No, your first resolution should be to finally graduate.”

“‘86 will be my year, I feel it in my bones.”

“Didn’t you say that with ‘85 literally two months ago?”

“I was full of shit back then. That was before I got my first C- in Ms. O’Donnell’s.” He gingerly lifted your head from his shoulder, cupping your chin as he said, “Which was thanks to you, by the way.”

“Not true. Since you actually wrote it.”

His wide grin fell a bit, and you worried you crossed yet another line.

His next words only increased your anxiety.

“If I ask you something, will you be totally straight with me?”

You gulped at the abrupt shift, heartbeat erratic. “Depends on the question.”

He continued anyway.

“The other day, you said you cared for me. Did you mean that?” Those brown orbs imploringly scoured every inch of your face, hoping to find a sign that’d appear before your verbal answer.

He didn’t need to.

“Yes,” you whispered, voice so quiet he would’ve missed it if you weren’t mere inches away. “I meant it.”

His eyes softened, glancing at your lips before returning your gaze.

Sharply inhaling, you began to close the gap, feeling your lips brush against his—

Before jumping for the second time today, releasing a startled gasp at the shrill sound of your ringing telephone.

“You should get that,” Eddie croaked, voice suddenly hoarse.

When he got up, you panicked. “I’ll get it later. Stay here, I can sneak you some dinner.”

He cleared his throat, fingers and eyes increasingly interested in fixing the pins on his vest. “Uh, I don’t know. I usually spend Turkey Day with my uncle. Chinese food, shitty beer, you get the gist.”

“Y-yeah, of course.” Your forced, tight-lipped smile made your cheeks ache. “Have fun.”

You hated the growing distance between you two. Hated how the incessant ringing punctured the now stifling air.

He nodded and scratched the back of his head, an uncharacteristically speechless Eddie Munson unsure of what to say.

Bidding for an awkward “See ya later,” he exited your window, not privy to the spectacle of you screaming into your pillow.

When the phone continued to ring, it was impossible to conceal your pure frustration when answering the call.

“Somebody better be dead or dying…”

“I told Chris!” Maggie exclaimed, who sounded very much alive. “And we’re going on a date tomorrow!”

Groaning loudly, you collapsed against your bed, Maggie’s bubbly voice fading into the background once again as you were on the verge of yet another spiral.

—

“You like him, don’t you?”

“Who?”

The way Maggie half-growled your name confirmed you weren’t going to get out of this. “You know who I’m talking about.”

Taking a bite of your sandwich, you looked at a wary Chris. “Do you know who she’s talking about?”

“I’m actually gonna get more tater tots,” he decided slowly, furtive glances sent toward the both of you before he practically ran to the lunch line.

“Don’t play dumb,” Maggie persisted, “not when I just saw you smiling at Eddie freaking Munson.”

“I mean, what he said was kinda funny. And true.” Jason’s comically peeved face after Eddie asked if the basketball captain’s singular brain cell still functioned now reappeared in your head.

“No one laughs at his ‘jokes’ unless you’re one of his lackeys.”

Your lips soured into a shape that was far from a smile. “So you’re saying I’m not just dumb, but I’m also a lackey?”

“I’m saying you have a crush on the weirdest person in this school!”

The deafening silence that ensued was the nail in the coffin, but your next words truly sealed your fate.

“He’s not that weird.”

Maggie sighed, your brain unable to comprehend the simultaneous, paradoxical look of understanding and pity in her eyes. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”

She wasn’t the first one to tell you that. After all, you’d read plenty of Austen and Brontë novels to know the reason behind your dysfunction.

It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to have feelings for Eddie Munson. You were mortified that–

“It’s that obvious?”

Especially after what had (almost) happened on Thanksgiving. Those few minutes were all it took to open Pandora’s Box, releasing a disconcerting cloud of emotions that controlled your thoughts every second of every day.

Which explained why each tutoring session for the past three weeks had been absolute torture. A switch flipped inside you, heightened senses observing the smallest of details.

The multitude of shirts with names of heavy metal bands you’d never knew existed.

The demon puppet tattoo on his forearm, which neighbored six tiny bats. (And you swore you once caught a glimpse of black ink peeking from his shirt, right underneath his collarbone.)

That slight furrow to his brow whenever he began an essay or homework assignment, which was quite similar to his ‘I’m on a writing roll’ look but also completely different. Or how he rolled up his sleeves whenever he was psyched, but mindlessly twirled the ring on his index finger when he was processing something.

Yet you also noticed the strange change in your dynamic. You initially attributed it to midterms stress, despite knowing Eddie’s lack of concern for exams, or school in general. One second you’d catch him staring at you, as if wanting to tell you something. Then he’d quickly raise the wall, attempting to diffuse the charged tension with some cringe-inducing joke.

It drove you crazy.

“Uh, considering that you’re currently looking his way,” Maggie interrupted your thoughts, “I’d say, yeah, pretty obvious.”

As if he heard, Eddie’s eyes briefly locked with yours before his chortling friends seized his attention.

He drove you crazy.

“What do you see in him?”

His talent to tell terrible dad jokes. Some signs of intelligence. Way too much confidence.

Kindness.

“Why do you even care? You’d hate whatever I’d say.”

Maggie shook her head, placing her hand over yours. “I’m just concerned for you. He’s dangerous. And what would others think? Your parents? It’s social suicide!”

“If you’re worried about that last part, then let me make things easier for you. Goodbye, Maggie.” Getting up, you ignored her pleas to come back as you rushed to one of your safest spaces at Hawkins High.

Only to find someone else sniffling at the Weekly Streak’s editor-in-chief workspace.

“Nancy, are you crying?” You frowned, forgetting the reason why you were here as you gently questioned, “Wait, did you hear from Emerson?”

“Huh? No, not yet, I just think I caught a cold–”

“Is it Jonathan? I’ll kick his ass if he–”

“No!” she shouted, wincing at how loud she sounded before she laughed to herself and sent an appreciative smile your way. “I mean, everything’s fine with us. He’s actually visiting soon, for Christmas. But I appreciate your concern.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’m so happy for you, Nance!” you exclaimed, your wobbly grin and teary eyes indicating otherwise.

Grabbing a few tissues, Nancy rushed to your side while she gave a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder. “Did you hear back from Yale?”

“Nah, I’m in the same boat as you,” you grumbled at remembering yet another lurking stressor.

“Then whose ass do I need to kick?”

“Let me write a list,” you deadpanned, though Nancy found it far from funny.

“I’m just so stressed, and tired.” Throwing out your used tissues, you leaned against the desk and sighed, “So, so tired.”

“Midterms?”

You barked out the ugliest laugh. “I wish! That’s easier to understand than Eddie Munson.”

Mentally cursing at your blunder, you rushed to fix the mistake. “Like, how many times do I have to tell him that Frankenstein is the scientist, not the monster?”

“Right,” said an unconvinced Nancy, her eyebrow raised as she innocently added, “So is that why you tutored him on Thanksgiving?”

Everything in your body ceased to function, save for your dry mouth that tried to ask her–

“How?” she said, the wry twist to her lips showed she was enjoying this too much. “I was going to keep it a secret, but it’s not everyday you see a man spending over half an hour climbing a tiny tree and spending even longer getting down from it.”

“Oh my god,” you wheezed, tears pricking your eyes while your body shook from uncontrollable laughter. “He is such a loser.”

Unsure of how to soothe you, Nancy enveloped you into a tight hug. “Mike agrees. I don’t know what happened to the two of you that night but ever since then he’s been in a weird mood. Something about making a campaign much harder?”

“Stop lying, Wheeler.”

Breaking the hug, she firmly placed her hands on your shoulder as she forced you to look at her. “You think I like hearing my little brother constantly complain about Dragons and Dungeons?”

“It’s Dungeons and Dragons,” you corrected meekly, afraid that those words would be your last.

Nancy’s eye twitched as her grip on your shoulder tightened to an almost painful degree. “Please know that I say this because you’re my friend, but if you don’t tell him how you feel, then Eddie’s not the only loser in this story.”

–

“Today’s the big day!” exclaimed Mr. Benson, the mailman excitedly waving the envelope like it was a golden ticket.

You wanted to hurl. Figuratively and literally.

Nancy’s gift of friendship not only included an absolutely inspiring and vaguely threatening pep talk, but she threw in a bonus side of germs that left you bedridden with a cold the entire weekend.

Still feeling somewhat weak on Monday, you unexpectedly convinced your parents to let you take a sick day, knowing that at worst you’d be missing lectures dedicated to reviewing for your midterms.

Now every step toward Mr. Benson was tinged with regret in deciding to stay home, not ready to read the either exciting or crushing news.

His gloved hands gave it to you as he sent you a wink. “I dropped off Nancy’s as well. Fred told me he’s already prepared the article to make the announcement.”

“You’re both too sweet, Mr. Benson,” you lied through your chattering teeth, not sure if the trembling was due to your nerves or the frigid weather. But there was no doubt that the Nancy-obsessed nerd wrote only one name on that headline, and it certainly wasn’t yours.

“Good luck!” he bid as he moved to the next home, allowing you to scuffle directly across to the Wheeler mailbox.

“NANCY!” you shouted from the top of your lungs, attempting to reign in the coughing fit you were about to go into. “NANCY, GET YOUR ASS OUTSIDE OR I’M OPENING YOUR EMERSON LETTER! Oh, hi, Mrs. Wheeler!”

The younger Wheeler appeared not a moment later, sharing an anxious glance before tearing open the envelope you gave her.

Though there was no reason to be nervous for her in the first place, finding yourself jumping alongside her mom and hugging Nancy before she even screamed, “I GOT IN!”

And you probably would’ve continued celebrating were it not for her stabilizing your dizzy body and looking you dead in the eyes.

“Wait, you need to open yours! Should we call your parents?”

The unopened letter stuffed inside the pocket of your puffer jacket suddenly weighed like a ton of bricks.

Even if it was good news, you wouldn’t be able to do this by yourself.

Which is why you shook your head at a puzzled Nancy, her bewilderment increasing with your next request.

“Do you think I could borrow Mike’s bike for a bit?”

–

“Fucking hell!”

About halfway into your freezing joyride, the burning sensation in your lungs painfully reminded you of your sheer stupidity in declining Nancy’s offer to give you a ride in her heated car. (You also made a mental note to take your driver’s exam before graduation.)

You had no idea what you were doing. Quite frankly, you hoped the bike ride would clear your head and make it easier for you to choose your next course of action.

But the closer you got to your destination meant the farther you were from turning back.

So you peddled even harder, whizzing by the sign to the Forest Hills Trailer Park as you spent your last burst of energy. It wasn’t until you spotted a certain battered van that you felt your tired body buzz in anticipation.

Because maybe there was a slim chance your plan wouldn’t fall apart.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself as you knocked on the door to the trailer before you.

When no one responded, you took a deep breath before you pleaded, “Munson, please. I know you have early release on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

Deciding whether to knock again or head back home, the choice was made for you as the door finally opened.

“I’m not the Munson you’re looking for,” drawled a middle-aged man who was right in his deduction.

“Mr. Munson! Nice to meet you!” you squealed, wishing you could crawl into a corner as you began profusely apologizing to the man who was probably resting after a graveyard shift.

“No need, about to head out to grab some food anyway.” He studied you for a moment, as if piecing together a puzzle. “You’re his tutor, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away?” you laughed, surprised that he knew his nephew had one in the first place.

“You did, just now.” He lit his cigarette, exhaling smoke the other way before facing you again. “I thought the boy was coverin’ his tracks whenever he talked about goin’ to the library to see his uptight tutor. Good to know it wasn’t a lie.”

“How…nice.” You weren’t sure what irked you more: Eddie Munson calling you uptight or his uncle being able to immediately identify you through that descriptor.

“My nephew uses all our hot water washin’ that hair of his. But he should be done showerin’ soon, feel free to stay warm inside.”

It was a nicer welcome than the one you received from the younger Munson, who clutched his chest and screamed “JESUS H. CHRIST!” when he walked out of the bathroom and saw you.

A joke was on the tip of your tongue, ready to poke fun at the intimidating metalhead cowering in fear. But you felt yourself freeze when he hesitantly said your name, oddly shy with all of his attention on you.

Having a crush was so unnerving.

He slowly approached the couch you currently sat on before harshly rubbing his eyes, still not believing what he was seeing.

“Stop acting as I’m some ghost, you dork.”

No response, just a suspicious glint. He broke the uncomfortable silence when he poked at your shoulder, yelped, and realized you were, in fact, telling him the truth and casually in his home.

“I have so many questions.”

“Nice to see you too, Eddie.”

“And you, uh, look and sound like shit,” he continued, a line that would’ve made you slap him if it weren’t for the concern in his voice. “So Ms. O’Donnell wasn’t lying about you being sick. Do you want water or something?”

“Well, at least I don’t have a hole in my shirt,” you lamely pointed out, hoping he didn’t catch your eyes lingering on his biceps. This was the first time you’d seen him wear a short sleeve t-shirt–Iron Maiden merch, no surprise there–and holy shit, was that a new tattoo?

“And water would be great,” you whispered, trying to swallow the new lump in your throat as you exercised great strength to stop admiring his inked arms in that tiny, black shirt. “I hate feeling this thirsty.”

“I’m only ignoring the slander because you’re sick. Even Gollum has seen better days than you.”

“I have no idea who or what a Gollum is, but I’m still offended.”

His face split into a wolfish grin, mischievous eyes twinkling as he half-sang, “What you don’t know won’t hurt you!”

As he went to the kitchen to fill a glass with water, you then caught his perplexed expression from the counter. “But speaking of being lost as hell, how’d you even get here?”

“Address or vehicle wise?”

“Uh, both, I guess?”

He plopped himself on the opposite side of the couch after handing you the cup, your fingers grazing his ring-cladded ones for what seemed like a second too long. Not trying to dwell on how touch-starved you were, you threw your head back and downed the water in one swoop, ignoring Eddie’s sarcastic, “Lemme pour myself a vodka shot, too.”

“Nancy gave me the address and I may have borrowed Mike’s bike.”

“How did that answer everything but nothing?”

Then a beat later. “Hold on, you biked all the way here in the freezing cold while having a cold? Are you insane?”

“Mike’s odometer said it was only seven miles.” You winced at Eddie’s high-pitched repetition of the number.

“Man, so maybe you wouldn’t design the most intelligent character in the Dungeon…”

“Hardy har har. I didn’t come all this way to play in your little campaign.”

“Care to share the real reason why you’re here, then?”

You laughed–of course Eddie would ask the most important question last rather than first.

Fishing out the item from the pocket of your jacket, you answered by showing him the envelope.

“Well, shit.” He whistled and gently grabbed the wrinkled paper when you nodded for him to take it.

“Shit, indeed.”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit into one when he saw the envelope was still sealed. “Why haven’t you opened it yet?”

“I can’t,” you replied honestly, hands fidgeting as you felt the nausea return. “I’ve been waiting so long for this, but I’m fucking terrified.”

“So you’re never gonna open it?”

“Maybe”–you smiled sheepishly, your next jumbled words sounding more like a question than a statement–“that’s because I want you to open it?”

“Me?” he squeaked out, eyes wide.

“And read it, too.”

“Are you sure this cold didn't also, I dunno, fry your brain?”

“Even if it did, you know how stressed I was about applying to schools. Am.” You pointed at the envelope. “You helped me even though you hate talking about college. Hell, you probably saw that side of me more than anyone else.”

“That can’t be true–”

“It is,” you interjected, grabbing one of his hands to squeeze it, hoping your face showed your sincerity. “I don’t want to open it alone, but the idea of reading the letter for the first time with my parents feels even worse.”

“I’m still not getting how I would make things better.”

“Because you wouldn’t judge me, Eddie.” Not when he’s been so supportive.

When he’s been there for you every. Single. Time.

“I’d be stupid to judge you.” He squeezed your hand back, though his softened eyes still held that hesitancy. “But are you sure about this?”

“100%.”

“Yeah, but, are you really that sure?”

“Hey, remember when I canceled tutoring because you passed your Frankenstein quiz? And you said you owed something to your ridiculously hot and smart tutor?”

He rolled his eyes but you still caught the slight twitch of his lips. “Something like that, yeah.”

“Well, I’m cashing in that favor now.”

Even if the dynamic between the two of you felt different after Thanksgiving, his excited grin and brightened eyes toward you never changed.

And the sweet way he said your name, tone hushed, as if in awe. How easily it rolled off his tongue as he softly told you, “You’re something else, you know that?”

It was in that split second you felt incredibly tempted to ask him for another favor.

But you shook your head and laughed, trying to shake away any of those thoughts before you half-glared at him. “You’re one to talk. But please, please, read the letter, or the suspense will literally kill me.”

“Impatient, are we? But I will say, it’s quite thick.” Giving your hand one last reassuring squeeze before he let go, Eddie began breaking the envelope seal. “They wouldn’t waste more than a page on a rejected student, right?”

“Ah shit, I can’t watch this.” You shut your eyes, hearing Eddie unfold the letter as he cleared his throat and read the greeting in a neutral voice.

He dropped that tone quickly upon reading the first two sentences, the dramatic shift providing such whiplash that it took your brain a solid minute to fully register the words.

“Welcome to Yale College! It is with the greatest enthusiasm that I write to congratulate you on your admission to the Class of 1990.”

Tears welled up in your opened eyes, but you could still see Eddie’s toothy grin as he made you stand and jump with him.

“Oh my god, Eddie, the rest of the letter!” Yet your gaze only fixated on the elated man in front of you rather than the paper on the couch.

“Screw the rest of the letter! YOU GOT IN!”

Your excited shouts and laughter joined his as he began twirling you around and almost knocked down a lamp in the process, only stopping when both your voices became shot.

“Fuck,” you coughed out, laying on the couch as you barely caught your breath and blankly stared at the paper in your hand. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Well, you better start. And we gotta keep celebrating.” Pacing throughout the living room, each finger ticked off an option from the endless list of activities you could choose from. “–a movie, or stuffing our faces at a diner, you name it. What are we doing next?”

“Mmm, how ‘bout a nap?” you yawned, an instant wave of exhaustion washing over you.

“Huh? Christ, I forgot you’re sick.” Kneeling in front of you, Eddie warned, “Don’t you fall asleep on me.”

“Your hand feels nice,” you pleasantly sighed at the cool touch of his hand on your burning forehead, further confirming his suspicions of a fever.

Consciousness was becoming increasingly harder to tap into, but faintly hearing Eddie say the word “home” briefly jolted you back to reality.

Your heart lurched when you realized he was carrying you, senses overwhelmed by the familiar scent of pine and cheap cologne mixing with a minty fragrance coming from his recently-washed hair.

“No, wait!” You weakly grabbed onto his shirt, whining, “I still wanna celebrate!”

“Next time,” he assured you. “I promise.”

It was the last thing you remember hearing, the calming smell of mint lulling you to sleep.

–

“Are you sure you don’t want to stop by, even for a few minutes? Mrs. Henderson made these cute Christmas cookies. Well, they’re shaped like cats so maybe they’re not that festive, but they’re still really good.”

“Nance, I’m fine, really. I’m used to the parentals working in the ER on Christmas, saving and healing the Santas that have fallen off their roofs.”

Holding the phone closer to your ear as you shifted on your bed, you could make out the faint laughter in the background and what sounded like Dustin recruiting someone for the Hellfire Club.

Laughing at the antics, you teased, “Sounds like you got a full house anyway. How’re you and lover boy?”

“We actually got into a stupid fight about him applying to Emerson.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Nancy sighed, “We made dinner a bit awkward for everyone. But it’ll be fine, I think. How’s your lover boy doing?”

“Don’t call him that,” you huffed, face instantly burning.

Besides, the last time you saw Eddie Munson was when you knocked out on his couch. Nancy thought otherwise, especially after last Monday evening, when she answered the ringing doorbell to the Wheeler residence and saw your calmly sleeping figure in his arms.

Despite her interrogation, Eddie only told Nancy that you were worn out from your biking escapade and that he left Mike’s bike in the driveway. After giving you and your decision letter to Nancy (“Don’t lose that, Wheeler.”), he apparently ran back to his van and drove away in his typical maniacal fashion.

It didn’t help that you missed another day of school, spending the entire time sweating out your fever. Considering you didn’t recall any of this, and Nancy’s journalistic abilities in telling this story seemed compromised, you had hoped to talk to Eddie the day you finally returned to Hawkins High.

Only to miss his chaos in the unusually quieter cafeteria, freshman and even seniors stressed about midterms and getting last-minute Secret Santa gifts. When Gareth–shocked to see you approach him and the others during lunchtime–had told you that Eddie was sick, you doubted that the metalhead wanted any visitors.

So you resigned to the horrible timing and focused on taking your exams for the rest of the week, immensely grateful for the start of winter break the following Monday.

“Nothing’s going on between us, I swear.”

“Mhmmm.” Hearing more indiscrete voices, Nancy giggled before saying, “Oh, how nice! Mike just said you could borrow his bike again if you wanna pay someone a visit. Maybe Christmas miracles do exist.”

How were you getting clowned by a fifteen-year-old?

“You’re both insufferable.”

“I’m just fulfilling my duty as a journalist and being honest.”

“But I told you the truth–he’s not interested!”

“Then why is he climbing the tree next to your bedroom window, again?”

You hung up the phone and ran before your body could tell you to stop, opening the window as your face was hit with the bitter air and disbelief.

“Eddie!” you half-whispered, startling the man as he almost lost his grip. “What are you doing?!”

And of course he still had that leather jacket on.

“Christ, you’re not supposed to see this!” he panted, his frosty breath revealing how cold it was. “Gimme a few more minutes.”

Despite anticipating the oncoming headache, you couldn’t control the amused laughter that escaped you. “You dork, you’re lucky there’s no snow. Just go through the front door. My parents aren’t here.”

You swore you heard a “Oh, thank god” before flying down the stairs and opening the door for him.

“Hi,” he greeted–shooting you a stiff wave and a lopsided smile–as if he hadn’t failed in climbing your tree a few seconds ago.

“Hi,” you returned shyly, that tightness in your chest re-emerging. Quickly picking away the twigs in that ridiculously soft hair and trying to act as if it was no big deal, you let Eddie inside.

“Um, are you feeling better?” you asked as you led him upstairs, hoping you sounded more nonchalant than what you currently felt.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, considering you, uh, passed out in my arms?”

You flipped him the bird before opening your bedroom door, scoffing, “I didn’t forget everything that happened that day. If I remember correctly, you promised to celebrate my acceptance with me.”

Letting Eddie sit next to you on your bed brought a sense of déjà vu that was getting harder to dispel with each passing second.

“You’re totally right. Which is why I brought you something. It was gonna be a Fleetwood Mac poster, but I didn’t have the strength to buy it in public.” He shuddered at the name, a gesture that made you roll your eyes.

“You’re so dramatic,” you muttered playfully, accepting the weirdly heavy plastic bag from Radioshack that he gave you, a sheepish look on his face as he nervously scratched the back of his head.

“I was gonna gift-wrap it but then realized that A) I don’t have anything to actually wrap the gift with and B) I had no time because I had to make-up my midterms two days ago.” Eyes widening as if he forgot something, he grinned and added, “Oh, speaking of that, I’m preeetyyy sure I bombed Ms. O’Donnell’s exam so I guess you’re still my tutor. Sorry.”

You pretended to shake your head disapprovingly–even if you tried, you couldn’t be mad, secretly happy to hear his rambling again. “You don’t sound sorry.”

“That’s because I feel more sorry for myself. Spending more time with you?” He fake gagged, his hands pretending to clutch his throat as he stuck his tongue out. “Ugh, a fate worse than death. I’d rather head to Mordor.”

“I’ll hit you and your obscure references with whatever is in this bag,” you teased, opening it as you peered inside. “What even is in this–”

You fell silent as you took out the boxed set of books, eyes scanning over the different titles written by J.R.R. Tolkien while your coy smile grew..

“You know, when I said I wanted to read The Lord of the Rings, I didn’t mean you had to get me the whole trilogy.”

In fact, you were planning on getting a library copy soon, in search of a new series to read. (And to finally understand whatever the hell Eddie kept on mentioning these past five months.)

“The books are actually mine,” Eddie said quietly, hands fidgeting as he nervously looked at your face to gauge your reaction. “I also threw in The Hobbit, which you should read first because it sets the stage for everything but is quick to finish. And if you ever get confused look at my notes. Not to toot my own horn, but they’re pretty damn good. Sometimes even funny.”

“Holy shit,” you breathed, shocked by the myriad highlights and annotations across hundreds of pages.

In August, if someone had told you Eddie Munson read and enjoyed a series that was over a thousand pages long, you would’ve outright laughed at them.

Now, you could easily imagine him excitedly flipping through each page, listening to Megadeth and Dio in the background as he hunched over his messy desk and scribbled his endless thoughts, wondering how he could incorporate some elements to his next D&D campaign.

It was an endearing picture, one that calmed your frantic heartbeats as you were reminded of how you two weren’t so different.

“Are you sure you wanna give these to me?” you asked, gazing into the warmest, brown eyes that belonged to Hawkin’s allegedly most dangerous teenager.

His cheeky grin already provided his thoughts. “I’ve read these books so many times I can probably quote it back to you. And I know once you finish these bad boys you’ll want to join Hellfire, so it’s a no-brainer, really.”

“Only when hell freezes over, pun very much intended,” you taunted, about to thank him for the gift until a smug Eddie placed a finger on your lip and whipped out another item underneath his jacket.

Unlike the boxed set, this one was wrapped in newspaper, his intent touching you enough that you didn’t even think about poking holes at his white lie from earlier or at his shoddy craftsmanship.

“I will say, that horrible pun made me consider whether I wanted to give this to you, but since I’m an incredibly nice person”–he gently placed the rectangular gift on your lap–“I got you this, too.”

Your forehead tilted in confusion and uncertainty, but you nodded and began opening the present.

“A journal,” you whispered in awe, admiring the intricate tree designed on the cover while your fingers appreciated the feel of your initials engraved in the corner of the authentic leather.

“Thought you would need something to write on for all those college creative writing courses you keep on talking about.” He shrugged impassively, but there was no way to hide the genuine gratitude in his eyes, the sincerity that followed shortly after.

“And I want to thank you for all your help. And for not hating me because people think I’m a freak. You’re cool in general, but I guess not being a douche makes you a pretty good person, too.”

The number of times Eddie Munson had left you unsure of what to say were more than you’d like to admit. But this was the first time he rendered you speechless, brain unable to think of an action that would show how much his words affected you.

How much Eddie meant to you.

So you kissed him, ignoring the weird angle or the way your teeth clicked after pulling his W.A.S.P. shirt a bit too roughly. Ignoring his slightly chapped lips and the fact that you ate sour cream and onion chips not one hour ago.

You kissed him, press after press of his lips against yours, climbing into his lap as your fingers got lost in his hair.

He kissed you, one of his hands grabbing one side of your face while the other rested on your hip. Your head felt light, but you didn’t want to stop, enjoying the delightful warmth in your chest, addicted to the way his lips seemed to melt into yours.

Eddie was the first to break it off, allowing for your panting figures to breathe for just a few seconds before he instantly regretted the separation and dove back in, these soft and sweet kisses feeling more raw and open than before.

“Fuck,” he groaned against your mouth, hot breath tickling your face, “I wanted to do that for so long.”

You slowly leaned back, one hand against his chest as you smirked at the sight of his flushed cheeks and shiny, swollen lips. “I thought spending more time with me was a ‘fate worse than death.’”

Laughing, he pecked the tip of your nose before caressing your cheek, affectionate, brown orbs crinkling as he clarified, “You heard me wrong, sweetheart. Spending time without you is worse than death.”

“Ha, smooth!” you teased, amused as you raised an eyebrow. “And whipping out the pet names already? We didn’t even say what we are, you dork.”

Clearing his throat dramatically, he bowed his head as he finally asked the question.

“Would you do me the honor of being your boyfriend?”

Lifting his chin, you smiled into the kiss, hoping that was a good enough answer.

–

“Edward, slow down!” you screeched over the loud music, reaching for the roof handle of the van.

Eddie’s chances of receiving his diploma from Principal Higgins this May were getting slimmer by the day, but based on the current speed an extremely excited Munson was driving, that chance was falling to zero for you, too.

The speedometer only lowered a sliver as Eddie scrunched his nose at the use of his first name. “Sorry, babe, but I’m still psyched after that show! We had a solid turnout.”

You recently started going to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday gigs at the Hideout, and while they weren’t the best band in the world, you only had to watch a few shows before confirming that Eddie was a damn good guitarist. You’d even argue that seeing one show was sufficient to draw the same conclusion, but you could just picture Eddie’s shit-eating grin and constant bragging to his bandmates if you actually said those words aloud.

Proudly smiling at him, you grabbed his free hand and kissed the back of it. “The band’s best show yet. Told you people dig Fleetwood Mac covers.”

“Not as much as I dig you~” he sang giddily, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he slowed down to turn into Forest Hills.

“Ugh, stop being corny, Munson,” you laughed, affectionately squeezing his hand. Some of Eddie’s funniest moments came from the rush that followed after a performance, the man’s hyperactive brain rambling and continuously throwing out whatever joke or vague reference to see what would stick.

The nights after concerts were also when he was practically bouncing off the walls, itching to release his pent-up energy.

Which explained why he was already peeling off your coat while trying to open the front door to his place. Why he tossed his own leather jacket aside and immediately placed you against the kitchen counter, knocking down a few items as he buried his face into your neck, hands dangerously inching up your thighs.

“Ed,” you mumbled, sighing pleasantly at the soft bite on a sensitive spot as your legs instinctively wrapped around him. “Why do we never go to your bed first?”

He raised his head, a mischievous look in his eyes as he roughly kissed you. Lips grazing the shell of your ear, he whispered, “But where’s the fun in that?”

A few tugs to his hair convinced him to follow your directions, shared laughter filling his bedroom as he gently threw you onto his bed. He wasted no time taking off his sweaty shirt and removing your top before leaning into you, the cold, metal rings on his calloused fingers trailing up to your bra and sending goosebumps all over.

His lips ghosted yours before he breathed out, “You’re so pretty.”

The comment made you smile and arch into him, his tongue entering your mouth right after you gasped at him unhooking your bra.

He kissed you slowly, relishing your whimpers as he toyed with your nipples and shamelessly grinded against you, head too hazy with lust to care about the rough fabric of his jeans against yours.

Closing your eyes, you let his hungry lips taste every inch of you, committing your skin to memory. For the first time ever you were grateful that the March weather was still cold enough for you to wear a turtleneck, the only way you were going to be able to hide the marks he so generously left on your shoulders and exposed neck. The loud, wet sounds of him gently sucking on the soft fat of your breasts caused you to press your thighs together, frustrated at how soaked your panties were getting.

“Eddie,” you urged, breathless, fingers tangled in his hair as you guided him upward, foreheads meeting tenderly. You felt the low groan rumble from his chest as you told him, “I want more.”

You and Eddie weren’t necessarily walking into uncharted territory. After two months into your relationship, your intense make out sessions and roaming hands prompted a conversation about boundaries and sex.

Though neither of you were virgins (“Harrington?” Eddie asked you, his eyes practically falling out of their sockets. “As in rich boy, drives-a-BMW Steve Harrington? I’m competing against him?”), the two of you weren’t the most experienced. (“Oh yeah, I’ve been around…” Eddie started smugly, your unrelenting stare getting him to feebly rectify, “...uh, with two women.”)

You both agreed to take your time, not wanting to rush things. Truthfully, you felt it improved communication between the two of you, Eddie quickly listening and learning about your needs. What you disliked and liked. What turned you off and what moves made you want to jump his bones.

The latter now a feeling that you were experiencing, your chest filling with a greedy desire as the discomfort in your legs increased.

“Please, Eddie,” you pleaded against his lips, rolling your hips into his and enjoying the low moan you riled out of him. “I want you so bad. I need you.”

“Are you sure?” he questioned, bumping noses and placing a light kiss on your forehead when you confidently responded with, “I’m ready.”

“But–”

He instantly froze when you said that, hands that were ready to lower your pants now firmly planted on your waist. “It’s okay to say no, now or later. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Fuck, that was sexy, biting your lip at his words. Smiling softly, you reassured, “I’m definitely ready. But no handcuffs.”

The tip of Eddie’s ears matched his bright, blushing cheeks. “You saw those?” he whispered, his sideway glance toward his wardrobe incriminating himself.

Rolling your eyes, you ran a soothing hand over his chest as you teased, “It’s the first thing I saw in this messy ass room. We can use it some other time, but not tonight.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining, at all.” He worked quickly on discarding your pants, giving you a chaste peck before starting a trail of open-mouthed kisses on parts of you he neglected before. “Just the thought of using them is hot enough for me.”

“You kinky bastard!” you joked, body tingling with excitement when he tugged off your panties and part your legs even further, but not before tightly snapping the waistband against your skin.

“But I’m your kinky bastard.” That comment and a sloppy kiss on your inner thigh drove you mad, not even thinking it was possible for the wetness between your clenched legs to continue growing.

It hurt to swallow your moan, your eyes refusing to leave his as you impatiently challenged, “Then do your magic, Dungeon Master.”

The only warning was the flat of his tongue teasingly gliding between your parted folds, a shiver traveling up your spine at the sight of his shiny lips when he sighed, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His tongue continued to thrust straight into your leaking cunt, slow flicks become more assured as he found a rhythm that drew out your loudest moans and the most forceful hair pulling. The heat of his mouth closing around your core made you dizzy, hips bucking from the touch as you brought him further down to that tiny bundle of nerves.

“S-shit,” you stuttered upon feeling two fingers inside you, writhing helplessly into the bedsheets as he continued sucking your clit like a starved man. The curve of his digits hit a deep spot that made your eyes roll back, breaths becoming shallower as the searing knot in your stomach tightened.

“Eddie,” you whined, aching walls clutching his pumping fingers, “I wanna—”

“Cum, baby,” he encouraged, and you almost did.

But your eyes flew open, animated hands directing Eddie upward and shakily unbuckling his belt as you begged, “Want you inside, wanna ride you. Now.”

His hooded eyes widened while nodding enthusiastically, flipping you to the top and helping you lower his jeans and boxers before he cursed under his breath. “Shit, where are the condoms?”

“No time, just pull out” you stammered, fingernails digging into his biceps as you spared a second to ogle at his considerable length, the tip glistening with precum. Hard. Ready. Waiting.

For you.

You lifted your hips and sank down, immediately keeling over and whimpering at the way his cock buried into you. Your shaking body alternated between going up and down and rocking back and forth, moaning at how good it felt.

How good he felt.

“That’s it,” Eddie grunted, one hand steadying and holding yours while the other ran up and down your flushed body, mesmerized by the sight of your bouncing tits and the cute mewls that left your pretty little mouth. Stars clouded your vision as Eddie quickened the pace and slammed into your hips, the friction of his thick cock against your walls a sensation you both continued hunting after.

The incoherent babbling began as soon as he rubbed your clit with his ring, the cool steel bringing a new wave of pleasure that washed over your burning body.

“‘M gonna cum,” you managed to cry out, his name and curses tumbling from your lips as you felt a tense coil wound inside you.

You let go, eyes shut in bliss as a white, hot burst of pleasure flooded your veins, your numb mind drowning in a newfound sense of euphoria. Eddie felt himself teetering on the edge of an orgasm, chest puffing in pride and eyes darkening at your fucked-out face as he chased his own climax.

Flipping positions again, the bed creaked with every thrust as you sunk further into the mattress, the sounds of slapping skin became louder than both of your groans combined. Eddie swallowed your moan by clumsily capturing your lips into a kiss, the faint taste of your arousal on his tongue.

“Christ, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, voice so low you barely caught it.

You laughed, your insides doing somersaults as his palm arched your back toward him. The new angle allowed his twitching cock to slip deeper inside your spasming walls as you held his gaze, watching his pants become heavier and rhythm more erratic.

Eddie quickly pulled out after, your body already missing the fullness as he painted your stomach in warm, white lines.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he stood on his knees, voice thick and jaw dropped. His heaving chest displayed all the tattoos scattered across his pale skin, entrusting you with a secret only you had access to. His sweaty bangs clung to his forehead while the rest of his tangled hair stuck out in wild directions, framing his face like a halo. Hypnotized, you drank the stunning sight before you as he grabbed some tissues from his desk and gently cleaned you up.

Eddie Munson was absolutely breathtaking.

And you were so done for.

“Did you hear me?” he asked, breaking your reverie as he laughed at your dumbfounded reaction. He collapsed next to you, letting your head snuggle into his chest as he lightly stroked your arm. “Or did I fuck you too hard?”

You snorted, playing with the tattoo underneath his collarbone before kissing it. “Mmm, no. I was thinking about how you, Eddie Munson, one of the most disorganized people to exist on this earth, found tissues in less than a minute but forgot where his condoms were. Good to know you masturbate more than actually get around.”

“How funny,” he drawled, pinching your waist playfully and raising a shriek out of you as he tried tickling you. “My biggest supporter quickly turns into my worst enemy. Was the sex that bad?”

Looking up, you pinned him with a cheeky grin before nestling your face into the base of his neck, gifting multiple butterfly kisses into the sensitive skin as a peace offering. “No complaints from me. It was amazing.”

“Would you say it was mind-blowing?”

You shrugged casually, amused lips curving upward while you twirled a strand of his hair. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Perhaps even better than sex with, I dunno, a popular douchebag?”

“Eddie!” you guffawed, unable to control your laughter.

“It wasn’t a joke,” he pouted, feigning hurt that you thought so.

“So I’ll answer seriously,” you said, pecking him before resting your chin on your hands that laid comfortably on his chest. “Who am I currently with?”

He rolled his eyes but you saw the slight twist of his mouth, felt his soothing hand drawing patterns on your back. “Fine, I guess, you proved your point, my fair lady.”

“Damn right I did. You’re lucky I’m still with you after I found out who Gollum was.”

“Oh, not again,” he whined dramatically, “everyone looks like Gollum when they’re sick!”

“Except?” you pressed, head turned to the side as you listened to his calmly beating heart.

“Except for my insanely hot and intelligent girlfriend…”

Satisfied with the amendment, you hummed loudly, briefly noting his heartbeat quicken.

“...who I happen to love.”

Your finger stopped re-tracing the tattoo on his chest, wondering if you heard that correctly.

Slowly raising your head, you searched his anxious, brown eyes and cautiously asked, “Did you say what I think you said?”

“What, that you’re hot and intelligent?” he nervously returned.

“No, the ‘L’ word,” you encouraged quietly, a hand caressing his cheek.

“Lesbians?”

“Eddie,” you slightly scowled, not enjoying how the fluttering in your stomach was about to turn into nausea. “The other ‘L’ word.”

The next beat of silence was the longest in your life, his warm eyes meeting yours before he muttered, “You got this, Munson.”

He cradled your face with the utmost care, thumb tenderly stroking your cheek while he said three little words.

“I love you.”

His fond smile was contagious, the joyous laughter spilling from your lips music to his ears.

Though nothing sounded better than you saying–

“I love you too.”

The kiss felt sweeter than ever, lifting you to a place you weren’t sure you’d ever reach.

This moment. This person. He was the true happiness you dreamt of.

His eyes lit up with a pure brightness when you told him that, both of you smiling goofily at one another while cherishing that rare, comfortable silence that few lovers had the privilege of experiencing.

“Not to disturb the peace or anything…” Eddie muttered after a few minutes, struggling to stay awake in your intertwined arms.

“Huh, that’s a new goal for you.”

“...but since we’re on the topic of happiness,” he rambled on, “it would make your boyfriend immensely happy if you were to participate in his D&D campaign. It’s never too late to fight the Cult of Vecna.”

“You have guts, I’ll give you that.”

“So is that a yes?”

Chuckling as you closed your eyes, you relaxed further into his embrace while mumbling, “Mmm, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. If it makes my boyfriend happy.”

You heard his fist pump swoosh the air, Eddie kissing the top of your head before he exclaimed, “The happiest man on earth! I knew ‘86 was my year.”

Smiling into your sleep, you couldn’t help but agree with the dork.

a/n: if you read this long ass fic then you're automatically my friend. i might write more parts featuring this pairing, i might not. i tried to write g/n smut but failed spectacularly so that's the next goal on my list. would love comments, feedback, or the opportunity to talk about eddie munson's shaggy hair and/or s4 pt. 2 theories. much love

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #Eddie Munson

343 notes · View notes