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woahjo · 2 months

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APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)

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Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?

Chapter Content Warnings: fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.

Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps.

Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless.

He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so.

Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist.

He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder.

He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive.

"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in."

He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away.

"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on."

You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude.

Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss.

The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly.

"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now.

Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that.

He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving.

"What?" he says, looking you up and down.

Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking.

"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-"

Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on?

"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white.

"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense.

"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?"

You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath.

"I'm not fucking around," he says.

"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know."

You trail off a little.

"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food."

"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for.

"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.

Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again.

"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder.

Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself.

He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you.

"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist.

You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal.

Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer.

Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up.

Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier.

He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him.

The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair.

His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again.

Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.

His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy.

He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire.

The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch.

You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him.

Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach.

You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused.

“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you.

The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy.

There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on.

“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt.

Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.

“Say that again.”

“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you.

You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter.

He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans.

Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them.

He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs.

You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out.

His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy.

Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders.

“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-”

You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you.

“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.”

The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side.

Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely?

Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours.

“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-”

He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge.

“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.”

Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow.

“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.”

He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours.

“This is g’nna make you mine, right?”

You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you.

Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better.

His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust.

You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time.

This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line.

The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way.

Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give.

His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes.

Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression.

You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you.

You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top.

He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made.

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-”

“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up.

Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest.

“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you.

You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed.

“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.

“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door.

“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.

Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward.

“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously.

You shrug and give him a coy smile.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.dubcon #tw.biting #tw.free use #tw.overstimulation #tw.size kink #tw.scent kink #idk what this is #it’s a little ficlet I suppose #AND SO DIFFERENT FROM WHAT I USUALLY WRITE I FEEL LIKE #ANY IM NERVOUS ENJOY #cal.writing

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steddiecameraroll · 5 months

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ao3

What if Steve’s the one painfully pining thinking Eddie is straight.

Eddie unaware but happy he and Steve became friends after everything.

Eddie oblivious to how Steve’s cheeks turn pink when he gives Steve the blinding dimple laden smile.

Eddie blissfully living his life, eating Steve’s snacks at movie nights, and riding along in the car when the kids get dropped off at the arcade.

And months go by. Long torturous months where Steve (or really Robin) is sure he’s developing an ulcer because he always has a stomach ache.

Until Steve finally decides he can’t do this to himself any longer. He thought at least having Eddie in his life was better than not. But his heart hurts constantly and if he doesn’t cut Eddie out of his life, he knows it’ll never heal.

So he stops accepting the invitations to hang out. Comes up with excuse after excuse until Eddie stops asking.

He stops engaging in the conversations when Dustin or Lucas talk about that week’s campaign or this amazing thing Eddie did.

And he’s… fine.

Sure maybe when he’s trying to fall asleep some (most) nights he wonders if Eddie ever went to that new music store. Or if he ever found out if his weird neighbor was poisoning the stray cats or not.

He acts like the fact Eddie seems to be unfazed about the whole thing, isn’t the most painful thing ever. That Steve vanishing from Eddie’s inner circle didn’t even generate an annoying little blip for him to question it.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.

Until one seemingly innocuous afternoon, when Steve is at the Hallmark store picking up a birthday gift for his mom. He’s holding something with a generic motivational quote in his hands when a bang hits the store window to Steve’s left.

He jumps at the sound and turns immediately, his body poised in a defensive stance, when his eyes register what he’s seeing.

Eddie Munson with both palms smashed against the window gawking at Steve. The man’s eyes are wide and his mouth is open and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

Steve catches his breath when he realizes he’s not in any danger, and he gives Eddie one of those mouth pressed smiles and a small nod. It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other Steve has to pretend it’s not causing him physical pain.

Then Eddie starts side stepping toward the entrance. He’s keeping his body facing Steve through the glass like he’s afraid if he looks away Steve will evaporate.

Steve knew he wouldn’t get away with never seeing Eddie again, but he had been hoping. He’s trying to ignore the desire to turn heel and find a back exit, and thinks maybe Eddie will just wanna say hi. Maybe Steve will only have to endure five minutes of interaction and they’ll go their own merry way.

“Steve!” Eddie says a little too loudly.

“Hey, man.” Steve smiles and hopes it looks friendly.

“Where have you been?” Eddie moves to stand directly in front of Steve, basically blocking him against the display table he’d been in front of.

“What do you mean?” Steve swallows a lump as he watches Eddie’s face twist into an expression of bewilderment.

“You kinda fell off the face of the earth, man. I was next door at Radio Shack and was headed to my van and thought I saw a figment of my imagination through the glass.” Eddie’s eyes suddenly dart around as of their surroundings just dawned on him. “Um…I kinda need…I’ve been thinking…can we, uh, talk? Somewhere more private?”

Steve’s mind starts flipping through possibilities of why Eddie can’t just say what he wants to say. It sounds ominous and he guesses they should get this over with. Maybe after this he’ll never have to worry about seeing Eddie ever again.

“We could go to my van? If-if you were ok with that?” Eddie quickly tacks on the last sentence.

“Sure?” Steve shrugs, sets the unimportant birthday gift on the table, and follows a step or two behind Eddie.

Eddie keeps glancing over his shoulder like he assumes Steve will dart out from behind him and book it across the parking lot. It’s making Steve nervous.

Eddie moves to the back of his van and unlocks the door, pulling it open and motioning to Steve to sit down. Steve cautiously slides his butt back onto the van, letting his legs dangle over the bumper, in case he needs to make a quick exit.

When Eddie sits down there’s an awkward amount of space between them. Steve ignores how the distance physically shows how much has changed between them.

“I…uh,” Eddie sighs then lolls his head back staring upward.

Steve can tell he’s trying to collect himself before continuing.

“Sorry, man.” Eddie chuckles nervously giving Steve a weak smile. “I wasn’t planning on doing this today so just trying to organize my thoughts.”

Steve is about three seconds away from vomiting all over the nearby asphalt. This is awful.

“I just…” Eddie turns his head to look at Steve. He looks pained, like whatever he’s about to say may crush Steve.

It probably will.

“I wanted to apologize, for…whatever it is I did. I know I’m obnoxious sometimes.” He rolls his eyes “Jeff tells me to chill out constantly.”

Steve pinches his eyebrows in confusion.

“I miss hanging out and seeing you, but I get it. You don’t give a shit about D&D or any of the other stupid things I talk about. I probably forced it and you are just too good of a dude to say anything. But that’s ok… I’ve done a lot of thinking…lately. You helped, sorta, expose something…about myself that I didn’t know.” He sighs before continuing. “I mean, I guess in theory I knew, but I just thought everyone felt like that.”

Steve feels like he’s traversing a perilous hike without a map right now, totally and completely lost.

Eddie clears his throat and fiddles with his skull ring. “I miss you. I mean, hanging out with you.”

Steve stares, unsure what to say. He probably looks like he’s short circuiting right now, because he doesn’t understand.

It’s been weeks, months even, and he never reached out. He never called or stopped by Steve’s place but he’s talking like it’s been killing him this whole time.

“I-I don’t understand.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie cocks his head.

“You missed me?”

“Yeah, of course.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Why wouldn’t I? We used to hang out all the time, Steve. I saw you more than I saw Wayne, most days.”

“Why didn’t you ever call me then?”

“Did you want me to?” Eddie laughs awkwardly. “You stopped wanting to do anything. I figured you didn’t want to see me, it was pretty obvious. I was trying to respect your wishes, dude.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say.

Eddie kicks his feet a little while he keeps his eyes pointed down at the parking lot.

“Oh,” Steve’s heart breaks for a different reason this time. “You didn’t do anything, by the way. It’s not your fault. I just needed to focus and get my shit together. My dad bitching about college again and I needed a new job. I was just sort of…distracted.”

By you

“Oh, you coulda said something. This whole time I thought you hated me. That’s a fucking relief.” Steve can sense Eddie’s entire body relax next to him.

“Opposite really,” he mutters under his breath.

“What’d you say?” Eddie leans in, his face shifting to seriousness.

“Oh nothing,” he brushes off. “Ignore me.”

“Opposite?” Eddie’s voice is pitched.

Steve’s stomach drops.

“No-no, um…”

Steve puts his palms on the floor of the van and pushes himself out of the van. He wipes his palms on his jeans. He needs to get out of here.

“I gotta go, uh, it was good seeing you, man. Um,” he wants to suggest hanging out but he can’t say the words. “Bye.”

Steve gives a finger wave and wants to smack himself in the face for how stupid it looks. He power walks away from Eddie’s van toward his car. He can get out of here unscathed.

“NO! Steve! Wait, wait,” Eddie’s chasing close behind Steve.

Steve fumbles with his keys as he tries to unlock his car door.

“Me too!”

Steve stops, his hands hovers over the door handle. Did he hear Eddie correctly?

Eddie approaches cautiously. “Me too,” he repeats quietly. “Opposite. You-that was the thing. The thing I figured out. This was it.”

Steve turns slowly.

“I missed you, Steve.” Eddie’s eyes are big and bright as if someone handed him a Christmas present. “I missed you, more than I should’ve probably. Definitely more than…a friend would.” He shrugs and pulls his bottom lip into his mouth.

Steve’s ears are ringing. The planet has shifted, he’s sure of it. Is Eddie saying what he’s been craving from the man for almost two years?

“Opposite,” Eddie whispers.

“Opposite,” Steve echoes.

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Eddie says gently.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up and he stumbles back thunking his elbow against the car window. “Ow, shit.”

“Are you ok?” Eddie steps forward, reaching a hand out but avoiding touching Steve.

“Yeah,” he rubs his hand over it. “Do you-do you wanna come over? My parents aren’t home. Won’t be until Thursday.”

“That’s four days away, Steve. Are you suggesting I’ll be at your house for four days?” He twists his mouth in a sly smirk.

“Maybe, if we needed it.” Steve’s heart is pounding in his chest pleasantly now.

Eddie blushes and ducks his head. Steve can tell the man’s holding himself back.

“You coming?” Steve tilts his head.

“Fuck, I hope so,” Eddie growls.

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

#he definitely does #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiecameraroll posts #q #my writing

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sooniebby · 8 months

Text

Restraining.. but it’s the guys weight holding you down.. bonus if he’s your sister’s ex boyfriend ;) bottom male reader, reader is mentioned to have a cock. Spanking, feminization, and light degradation. (Adding dub con just to be safe but reader consents to everything)

Smut idea where reader ends up getting fucked by his sister’s ex boyfriend and finds out he likes bigger and older men :3

After your sister, Karina,’s break up with her boyfriend, she’s been a bit of a mess. Even though she was the one who initiated the breakup. She never told you why but she certainly told you what she’d miss from her ex.

His smile, his hair, his hands, and his big co—

Yeah, it was getting annoying. You were honestly glad. You didn’t like the guy. Some bad boy wannabe wearing leather jackets and riding a motorcycle. He was.. like in his mid 20s! Too old to be a bad boy! You were at least glad you’d never see him again

But that wasn’t true when you ended up seeing him in your home… the day you were trying on a pair of shorts Karina got you.. the shorts were way too short for you—your ass cheek was basically popping out and you couldn’t even wear underwear with it.

And now here you were, gripping your bedsheets tightly with the shorts around your legs as you bit down on your lip. A constant force pushing up toward the headboard as he fucked you like an animal.

You could’ve said no. And really, you were about to.. but damn, he was kinda hot. Tall, lean, and tanned skin. Jet black hair.. why did Karina break up with him..? Personality maybe?

Fuck a personality right now though…

Anyway, while you lose your virginity to your sister’s ex boyfriend, all you could do was whimper and whine. You tried moving but his body was pressed down onto you, forcing you to take whatever he gave you

And what he gave you was harsh deep thrusts. Easily reaching your bundle of nerves and earning muffled screams from your lips. You shifted underneath him at each graze of your prostate but was only met with a swift spank to your ass.

He didn’t even say much for you to drop your shorts. A simple raised eyebrow and a smirk got you wet. Which is… very virgin like but at least you’re not a virgin now :)

You didn’t even think about how weird it was that this guy, who was about eight years older than you and dated Karina for almost two years was fucking you without any sense of guilt.

But fuck… your sister was right. He did have a huge cock.. but suddenly you thought about your sister getting fucked by this guy and now you felt disgusted. You tried to move again but was met with another harsh spank and him pushing you even deeper onto the bed

It looked like you weren’t leaving anytime soon. And embarrassing enough, you took it. Future you would deal with the guilt of fucking Karina’s ex.. present you would enjoy your first ever dick

“You do this for everyone?”

Oh. He can talk? You only mewled as his thrusts seemed to only get quicker, the sounds of skin slapping filling your room.

“Dressing in these type of shorts,” he tugged at the shorts around your legs. “How many did you seduce with these?”

You could only try to ignore him and just enjoy the feeling of getting fucked but he grabbed your hair and pulled. A cry left your lips as you glanced at him, a faint smirk on his lips.

“You’ve always been cute.. glad to know your pussy is tighter than Karina’s”

You couldn’t help but mewl at his words, your tight heat tightening around his cock. His smirk only grew—his eyes staring knowingly into yours.

He’s got you now.

You came soon after that in embarrassment. How could that even make you cum? But he loved it. His past thrusts were fast but it felt absent.. now, he was fucking you like he was wanting to breed you.

Your lips were continuously open, loud and unabashed screams left your lips. Each thrust caused your body to push forward violently.

“Look at you… taking me well for your first time. Y’know.. I think I know why some people love fucking virgins.”

His thrusts slowed down, earning a whine from you. He was slow and methodical which was good at first but randomly, he slammed into you, earning a cry in pleasure from you.

“Not for the innocence… but for showing someone new how good it is to be fucked. And the discovery of themselves.”

He slammed into you again.

“I think I don’t want this to be a one time thing. This pussy’s too good to give up.” He gave a soft squeeze to your ass.

“…’s not a pussy…” you slurred out, practically cock drunk at this point.

He only grinned. His thrusts were slow as he brushed against your prostate before stopping right there as he painted your insides. You gasped in disbelief, feeling the warm liquid.

He pulled out and got off from on top of you. You continued to stay on the bed—just hoping he’d leave now so you could sleep in shame for sleeping with Karina’s ex.

But you heard the sound of a camera going off. With the last bit of energy you had, you turned yourself around to look at him as he smirked at his phone.

He turned the phone to you, showing you the picture he took. Your bare ass as cum dripped out of your fucked out hole. Luckily you were face wasn’t in the picture but if someone had been in your room, they could tell it was your bedroom based on the posters you could see in the background

“Safe keeping. I had to delete Karina’s nudes… so I need some new material. You’ll be giving me more, yeah?”

You could only stare at him dumbly as he grabbed his shoes and slipped them back on. He grabbed his jacket and looked back at you. You could feel his eyes roaming your body before looking down at your hole that was still leaking with cum.

A twisted smirk was on his lips at the sight. You blushed in embarrassment and looked away.

“It’ll be fun helping you learn about yourself more… I’ll see you soon. Wear those shorts again, alright?”

With that—he was gone. But the only thing on your mind right now was…

Why was he even here in the first place?

And uh.. more importantly—what was he going to do with that picture?

I’ve always liked the idea of sister exbf but only if the bf is older and a bit mean, but I certainly think I can make him meaner for next time.. how do you guys like him?

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life69 @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @nakedtoasterr @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @kaedezu @loivre @millecka @iwishtobeacrow

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #oc x reader #smut drabble #smut ideas #mlm nsft #mlm ns/fw #smut prompts

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highonakuweeds · 2 months

Text

POV: Your Alastor's wife and it's October

(A/N: I didn't read anything beforehand, so if you see any weird mix ups of whatever, I'm sure your brain can ignore it thank you <3)

“My dear!” Alastor exclaimed towards you, who was at the bar, conversing with Husk. Your attention changed so that Alastor had it fully, which made Husk roll his eyes and chug a drink down. “Mon amour! How are you this hellish evening? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Ah, yes well,” Alastor tugged on his coat, his grin somewhat strained. It wasn’t obvious for the majority of the others, but it was to his wife. “Just some irritating demons on the streets, is all; nothing to worry about.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Alastor, I know what that face means.”

He raised a curious brow. “Do you, now?”

“Mhm.” You sipped the last of your champagne, and thanked Husk for the drink, earning a nod from him. “It means you’re horny.”

…

“What? Noo!” Alastor attempted to brush off, his eyebrows stitched with disbelief. “You know how I am about anything sexual, dear. I—” “Yes, yes, it’s not really your thing; we all know that. However,” light flickered through your gaze as you bore into Alastor’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can’t escape that month you hate so much.”

Alastor remained quiet, his eye twitching. You shrugged. “I mean, hey, if you want to wait it out, suit yourself. People will ask where you’ve gone, and you don’t want them to give in to curiosity, do you?”

He hesitated before grunting, grabbing your wrist, causing you to yelp. “Fine.”

As your giggles of amusement echoed in the halls, Charlie tilted her head. “What’s he going to do to her? Oh, no, I hope it isn’t anything horrible…”

Angeldust snorted, swirling his pink cocktail before sipping. “Nah, he’s probably gonna fuck’er.”

“What!?”

“Angeldust!” Vaggie exclaimed, causing the spider demon to look at her in surprise. “What? You saw the way he looked at her, plus the way she was teasin’. I thought it was obvious.”

Cherri bomb grinned. “No shit they’re gonna fuck. But it’s kinda weird, don’t cha think? The edgelord finally wants to bang someone.”

Charlie thought about it. “Well, they are married.”

“Wait, they’re fuckin’ what now?”

“Wow, is this month that tough you gotta drag me to your room, Alastor?” You teased, causing him to groan. “You don’t even want to know how much I had to endure for the past couple of days.” He replied.

Your brows furrowed. “Honey, if it was hurting you, you could’ve asked me way sooner. You know I would’ve been more than happy to help you.”

Alastor laughed, locking his door, and whisking the swamp side of his room away to not let anything disturb them. “Of course, you would’ve been, darling; you’re always so willing to help. Speaking of which, would you be a doll and soundproof the area?”

You cocked an eyebrow, obliging nonetheless. With a flick of your wrist, blue wisps coated his bedroom, leaving some sort of shiny residue scattered in the room. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was going to be a rough night for the both of us…”

“Oh, shut it.” Alastor mumbled before walking towards you. He crashed his lips onto yours, cupping your cheeks with fervor and slight desperation. You let out a noise of surprise before giggling and allowing your husband to do whatever he needed to do. You snaked your arms around Alastor’s neck, scratching the base of his ears, just how he liked it.

He let out a soft sigh of bliss, his steps making the both of them stumble onto the bed, with him on top of your. Before, Alastor normally just locked himself somewhere private, usually his radio tower, until this stupid cycle wore off. But now that his wife, his technical mate, was right where he was currently residing, it was way more difficult than it was before to be cooped up.

He had attempted to take matters into his own hands, both literally and figuratively, and the only thing it gave him was sheer shame and embarrassment, so he had stopped trying. So, to have you below him was such a relief.

And yet, he wanted more. He needed more.

He needed to taste you, and mark you, and show every single demon that came your way that you were his wife. No one else’s.

Alastor pulled back from the kiss, planting small yet precise marks on your jaw, causing you to softly moan so quietly it riled him up even more.

He tried his best to keep his composure calm, to hold himself back. But he truly couldn’t with how foggy his mind made everything become. Alastor sunk his teeth into your neck, right below your pulse. You let out an animalistic groan, your back off of the mattress already. “Alastor, love, calm down—”

“Apologies, my dear, but I don’t think I can.” He responded tightly, licking the wound he inflicted fervently, shuddering as the metallic taste hit his tongue. You chuckled, sweeping his hair away from his face. “Alright, then. Do whatever you need to, sweetheart.”

Alastor tried to think clearly, to regain any sort of control he had in his sexual desires, but he so miserably failed. The urge to bite you and mark you and make everyone know that you were his overruled his mind. It was the only thing he could ever think straight at that moment.

“Mine…” He muttered, kissing and sucking on almost every single part of your neck. His hand had other plans, though, as it traced your figure until it reached your hips, and it squeezed hard.

You let out a yelp and a moan, your breath practically nonexistent as you chuckled. “I’m yours, darling.”

His hand, even if it was just one, grounded you to the bed. You found yourself unable to move, not that you cared, anyway. Alastor rarely needed you in this sort of way, and to have him like this, so desperate, so needy, it made you feel things.

You were not quite sure what was going on hearing-wise, but you felt yourself saying Alastor’s name as a plea. He groaned, pulling himself away from your neck with a strained struggle. He drank you in, his smile still present. You almost laughed as his eyes didn’t match that, though, since they were looking at your outfit in disgust. He adjusted his position to balance himself before snapping it away, leaving you bare.

You gasped at the drop of temperature, causing you to scoff. “Alastor! At least warn a demon.” His deer ears twitched as he descended onto your collarbone, peppering kisses everywhere. “I apologize again, (name). I just…” He took a deep breath in and felt his eyelids fall heavy. “You’re intoxicating…”

At the mention of your name, you stirred slightly, feeling the heat pool down to your core. Alastor must have noticed this, however, since he started trailing kisses around your chest, his favorite part being the underside of it. He nipped at the skin and sucked like a dog in heat.

Well, a deer in rut, but one must digress.

You squirmed in your position as he bit down right before he resumed his trail of kisses down to your stomach. He could feel your arousal like it was his own, and that put him in quite the predicament.

“Aren’t you going to take care of yourself first, Al? You’re practically bursting.” You quietly asked, a hand running through red tufts of hair that was tickling your torso. A low growl escaped Alastor’s throat. “I will; have some patience, love.” Me? You’re literally bulging. “But right now, I need a taste of you…”

Your eyebrows twitched as they creased together. “What are you trying to do—” You cut yourself off with a yelp as Alastor planted a soft kiss on your clit, making your jump. “If I go too far,” Alastor started, gazing up at you through his bangs. “Tell me.”

You nodded, knowing that he never would go too far, and if he did, he would be too busy enjoying his meal to understand that.

Alastor’s grin just stretched wider before probing his tongue into you, causing you to shudder with a groan at the feeling. You played with his ears, your breath being stolen away. Honestly, if it weren’t for his cannibalistic and homicidal instincts, he would’ve landed a spot in Heaven with how gentlemanly he was, giving you pleasure before indulging in his own.

Alastor was fully aware of the growing tent in his pants, but he paid it no mind, which he was glad he was at least able to do. With that, he knew his mind hadn’t succumbed to the worse thoughts that he dreaded the most.

He lapped and sucked up all of the juices you had to offer, his pace unforgiving and sloppy. You could feel your own claws puncture the mattress with how tight your grip was on it, but you were sure Alastor wouldn’t care later on. He doesn’t really…sleep.

With how quickly Alastor was working against you, you felt that knot in your stomach appear just as fast, making you curse under your breath. For someone who doesn’t really like anything inherently sexual, he sure is a master at it.

Alastor felt it. He felt you getting closer, and he wanted nothing more than to see you writhe in pleasure all because of him, and nothing, or no one, else. The hand that was gripping your thigh to the point of wounds hooked your leg onto his shoulder for the time being, holding it in place as he quickened his pace.

The only thing you could do was whimper and plead and whine. And every single syllable that dropped from your mouth went straight to his arousal, and he cursed internally. A string of violent curses escaped his wife’s lips as you tugged on Alastor’s hair, which led him to hiss in both the pain and pleasure it shamefully gave him.

“Close—Alastor, wait—!” You managed to cry before snapping, waves of pleasure crashing into you intensely. You let out a demonic groan as Alastor drank you until your high faded.

Your head flopped onto the fluffy pillows of Alastor’s bed, staring at the red head of hair just where your abdomen started. The radio demon rested his head on the inner side of your thigh, catching his breath slightly, which caused a bit of feedback from the voice effect he always had on.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked, tilting your head. Despite the fact that Alastor kept smiling, his brows twitched. He was far from satisfied.

You laughed, and Alastor could hear a bit of nervousness laced into it. Not that kind that was associated with fear, but the kind that was associated with excitement.

It’s going to be a long night for the both of them.

You sat up properly before crawling to be in front of Alastor. “It’s quite unfair that I’m the only one bare right now.” You teased, undoing the buttons of his coat. Though, even as you did, he knew how much you enjoyed that power difference.

Alastor didn’t resist as you unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt underneath. You had stopped undressing him when his shirt hit the strain in his pants, and he felt an annoyed grunt scratching his throat at the lack of friction. “(Name), dear.”

“Hm?”

“You have to stop teasing…”

You scoffed out a laugh. “Is the radio demon attempting to beg right now?” Alastor’s face immediately turned bright red, the cold air that was hitting his bare chest not helping him, either. “Chérie, don’t make me do this—” “What, beg?”

You had figured out how to make it more fun for you, and more cruel for him.

It made him so embarrassingly hard.

Your positions were now flipped, since Alastor had tried (and failed) to cage you in, and so when he crawled towards you, you swiftly went behind him. So now, his back was towards the headboard, his ears pinned back slightly. Without his coat, you could really have a nice view of his small deer tail which was currently tucked in between his legs, barely covering the bulge in front of his pants.

His grin twitched. “So, how are you planning on taking advantage of our current situation?”

You laughed, a finger to his lips to shush him, which made an irk mark appear on his forehead. “Oh, dear Alastor, have some patience! You wanted me to have the same thing just minutes before, right?” Your finger swept to his chin to lift it up as you leaned in closer. So close Alastor heard your pulse.

Your eyes fluttered closed, your lips mere centimeters apart. Alastor sighed, ready to feel the sensation of your soft lips against his, but he only felt the cold air hit it instead. He opened his eyes to find you grinning with an eyebrow raised. His brows dropped as his smile strained, just as much as his pants were. Alastor cleared his throat before giving you an amused gaze. “Do you really think that would work on me?”

You shrugged, leaning forward to straddle yourself on him. He cursed under his breath (a rare scene, honestly. You savored every moment) as he felt himself buck against you. “Well, it did; there’s no real debate about it, hun.” You cupped one of his cheeks, in which he melted into, while tracing the outline of his deer ears with your other hand. You laughed breathlessly. “I’m sorry, your ears are just…absolutely divine.”

Alastor fought back every single moan and whine that you were pulling out of him from playing with his ears. “The things you do to me…” He whispered as he grinded against you slightly, that needed friction making him see stars.

You almost lost self control at that statement. Just the way Alastor was slowly breaking under you purely because you were touching and prodding at his ears gave you such a power surge. Your hands made their way to his pants, where they undid them and freed Alastor, who had just hissed at the cold air hitting his cock.

You stared and ogled at the sight before you, your hand wrapping itself around it. Alastor tensed, his shoulders raised slightly. He let out a shaky breath, watching his own chest rise and fall to calm him down.

He was already leaking, and you used that to your advantage. You stroked painfully slowly, causing him to shiver. You glanced at Alastor’s expression with a sly smirk. “You’re enjoying this a lot, dear.”

Your tone was mocking; Alastor heard it. He tightly chuckled. “How would you know?”

“Alastor. You’re so hard right now.”

“Oh.”

You snorted before increasing your pace against his cock. Alastor cleared his throat, feeling his mind fog with desire and lust, the two things he really wished hadn’t plagued his mind too much.

You felt a tentacle wrap around your left thigh, and your breath hitched. “Al?-” It started to massage your pussy, making you gasp and grip Alastor’s cock a bit too tightly.

He grunted in both pain and pleasure, that brief moment of extreme bliss washing away again. “(Name), love, I think you should calm down this time.”

“Well, it’s not my fault your stupid tentacles start to just—” You cut yourself by sighing in relief, the same tentacle you were referring to going in circles against your already sensitive clit. “I swear.” You muttered, quickening your pace against Alastor.

Suddenly, you stopped your hand, cursing when the tentacle wouldn’t do the same. At that lack of motion, Alastor swore under his breath, his grin showing annoyance as he grunted. Yet even with shocks of pleasure spreading across you body, you kept a steady face, the smile on your face absolutely shit-eating. “Is someone annoyed already? Doesn’t feel good when pleasure’s just taken from you, does it?” You swiped you thumb against his tip which made Alastor stir. He let out a low, dragged-out moan at the sensation. you repeated the motion, amused at the way Alastor took a sharp inhale and exhale, as if regulating his senses.

Alastor hated the way you pouted at him as if he were some pitiful creature. “Awh, does someone crave what he wants?” You scoffed, swallowing a gulp of saliva as the tentacle on your pussy quickened its pace. you attempted to think of something, anything, that could postpone your orgasm.

Ah, you knew.

Angeldust said something about Valentino having a waterboarding kink. Honestly, the thought of Valentino was enough.

You grinned, tilting your head as you set your pace to be irregular. When you knew Alastor was at the edge, you stopped, then when you knew that it subsided, you would continue. “You thought I wouldn’t make you beg for it?”

Alastor couldn’t help the lewd noises he was making, letting out strangled moans and whines and huffs. Just who do you think you are, making the radio demon beg for you?

Well, you are his wife.

Alastor tried to fight the urge to give in, but the way you were teasing him and playing with his pleasure made him want to snap. He averted your gaze as he muttered something incoherent, but you knew what it was.

You slowed your pace on his cock again, tilting your head in feigned innocence. “I’m sorry, dear, I didn’t catch that. You better speak up.” Immediately after you spoke, you bit your lip and cursed internally. You were so desperately close because of what Alastor’s tentacles were doing to you. Hell, you weren't even sure if Alastor knew that his tentacles were pleasing you to the brink of insanity.

Alastor’s pride and ego got the better of him, though, as he mumbled it again, just a bit louder.

“Alastor.” You warned. “Speak. Up.” You quickened your strokes before slowing them down again, smiling as you got the reaction you wanted from Alastor.

“Hhngh, please, darling…” He moaned, his eyelids heavy. Alastor’s grin twitched once more in annoyance. “Please, finish what you started…”

You were going to say something before you felt you coming close. you cursed under your breath, something you didn’t know if Alastor heard you or not. And just as you was about to reach the highest peak,

The tentacle against your pussy stopped its rubbing, and you whined, arching you back. You were grateful for it, though. You could tease Alastor even more.

“Awh, Alastor,” you taunted. “Surely you can do better than that…right?” You placed a kiss beside the tip, and Alastor suppressed (but horribly failed) the need to moan. “Beg like you mean it.”

Alastor accidentally whined, his eyebrow twitching once he heard himself. “Please, darling… don’t tease me like this…” You gazed into Alastor’s eyes, a look of mischief on your face as you stroked quicker.

He moaned heavily, his chest rising and falling at an alarming rate. “Fuck, please let me finish already…!”

Your eyebrows shot up at that crisp swear, you grin stretching from ear to ear. “You’re getting there, love.” The speed of your strokes gradually increased. Suddenly, you felt the tentacles again, but this time, it was just one. It was two.

You discreetly attempted to glance back, getting interrupted by the thicker one prodding your entrance. you gasped, trying to regain your composure and control over him. You tried your best to focus on Alastor instead. “You’re so cute when you beg; you know that, right?” You propped yourself on your elbows instead of having your other hand support you to play with Alastor’s cock more.

More quickly than he would have wanted, Alastor felt himself losing control. He let out an animalistic groan, gritting his teeth. His shoulders tensed once more as he felt himself getting close. He bucked his hips into your hands, the friction making him whimper ever so slightly. “Please…please, please, please please…”

You had never heard Alastor so whiny, so helpless. It was unlike him, just allowing you to assert yourself in this kind of situation. But hey, you didn’t mind. In fact, you loved it.

You should visit more often.

The hand closer to his tip massaged it with the thumb, making Alastor cry out in response. His breath was shallow and ragged, and his voice was breaking. His radio filter was long gone, and just the sound of his real voice made you go crazy.

You felt yourself nearing your climax, too. With how quickly the two tentacles were either massaging or pumping into you, you realized it was inevitable.

You decided it would be ideal if you came together.

You immediately quickened your pace against him, the fact his whole intimidating facade was gone with how he was muttering pleas made your heart pump, if undead hearts could do so.

Alastor felt kisses against his inner thigh, and that was what sent him over the edge. With a cry of your name, strings and strings of white translucent fluid released itself from his cock. His hearing was compromised with a ringing sound, but he heard you moan his name out just a couple of seconds after him, your grip against him tightening as you never stopped stroking.

His breath hitched as he realized that you weren't going to stop. “Wait, (Name)—” He whined, his head hitting the pillow behind him. It was too much; the feeling, the pleasure, just everything. He hadn’t even touched himself in decades, so to just have someone stroking him even after he came felt painfully pleasurable.

Thankfully, you stopped after some time, your grip loosening as you caught your breath. Somewhere during that time frame, your right hand made its way to his thigh, acting as a pillow for your cheek. your eyes trailed down Alastor’s twitching cock, and you grinned, liking a stripe from base to tip.

He shivered, his eyes closed as he held his forehead. He placed his hand down onto the mattress and… Why were there punctures in it?

Just as Alastor was about to ask, he noticed movement behind you, his brows furrowed. Then, he saw it. He saw the shadowy tentacles he knew were his.

His eyes widened slightly as he looked at the now flushed out you who was half-lidded with your ass in the air. “My dear?”

“Hmmmm?”

“Why are my tentacles…out?”

“Huh?” You glanced back and sweatdropped as you finally realized just how thick they were. No wonder You felt full. “Oh, they–” You cleared your throat. “They were…fucking me. I thought you knew that.”

Alastor’s eye twitched before he let out a chuckle. “Well, I apologize for that, dear. Though, I hope you can still take more, since,” he sat up straight, helping you fix your posture before picking you up by your hips and straddling you against him, your pussy just mere centimeters on top of his cock. “I’ll be handling you now.” Alastor glanced up to look you in the eyes. “Do you consent?”

“You know I always do.”

Alastor huffed out a laugh. “Whatever you say, darling.” He strained himself as he held every ounce of the animalistic urge that he had kept constrained as he made you sink down onto him. A guttural moan forced itself out and he started to grip your hips tighter, using that as a way to bounce you on his cock.

You always knew and understood how mating seasons work, from their cycles to the subject’s attitude during. Well, you needed to read about it; one can never have too much knowledge, right?

You weren't sure about one thing, though: if demons experienced the same kind of cycle that their animal counterpart did. Well, this explains it.

It was obvious that Alastor was attempting to help you adjust to his throbbing dick but just the idea of being inside you drove him towards the edge. He bucked his hips at the same rhythm you bounced on him.

Your mind was clouded with lust and pure bliss. Alastor’s cock was kissing your cervix one too many times, and it sent you to absolute ecstasy. your lips formed a lazy grin as you kissed him hungrily, causing his hips to stutter.

With no ounce of shame left in his body, he allowed himself to groan and whine at every thrust he did in you, savoring how warm everything felt. How ironically heavenly you made him feel.

The only unfortunate thing in Alastor’s mind was the desire to breed. To fill you up until his cum splattered onto his mattress. He wanted to make a mess of you, and possibly himself in the process. Alastor needed to make sure you knew that you were his, and his alone.

Somehow his lips made their way to your neck, savagely nipping and sinking his teeth into your flesh until he tasted metal. That sweet intoxicating flavor that always drove him wild.

you dug your nails into Alastor’s back, feeling your climax rising up again. It wasn’t long until you were spewing curse words that would make a normal man break down and cry as you felt the cord in your stomach violently snap again.

But Alastor wasn’t stopping. He started to prioritize his release the moment he slipped inside of you. His pace never faltered; in fact, it quickened at an inhuman speed, causing your gasps of air to be just hiccups.

“You’re making me see stars.” He whispered into your ear, desperate and whiny. He could feel that build up happening again, and this time, he was going to get what he wanted as quickly as possible.

Fuck, just the idea of him cumming inside of you almost broke him. He knew that since you were both sinners, you could no longer have children, but it would never hurt to try, right?

His grip against your hips tightened to ground you in place as moaned as loudly as you had ever heard him. He pumped inside of you, thrusting harshly yet slowly until he felt himself fully inside you. you gasped, feeling your pussy stretch until something absolutely huge squeezed itself inside you.

Wait, did Alastor just–

Loads and loads of cum painted your walls, filling you up to the brim. Alastor’s teeth bit your shoulder as he released inside of you. you felt your mouth dry as you finally gasped for air, involuntary moans coming out for you.

You stayed like that for a minute or two, chests heaving as you caught their breath. Alastor’s knot finally deflated, yet it felt like he didn’t want to leave the position. However, you were still at the hotel, and the others might probably be looking for them.

Even worse, they might think they did something steamy.

Well, you did, but Alastor didn’t want that thought in their heads.

He planted a kiss on your forehead, his lips slightly burning from your skin. “We should get going, my dear.” He whispered, his radio filter back on.

“Did you know you could do that?”

“Do what, love?”

you looked at him through lazy eyes. But even if you did, he could practically feel the mischief beaming through them. “Knot.”

Alastor stitched his eyebrows together, confused. “What’s…knotting?”

you tilted your head. “You don’t know how your cycles work?” He averted your gaze, his ears flopping down in embarrassment. “I’ve never really done this before, dear.”

Your grin turned devilish. “Well…”

Oh, deer (hah). It’s going to be a long night for them.

“Where is Alastor?” Charlie asked, looking around. “I’ve been trying to call him for an hour or so but I haven’t seen him.”

Angeldust snorted before it turned into a cackle. “Like I said, toots! He’s probably in his room, fuckin’ the shit outta (Name).”

“I really doubt tha–” “Good evening, everyone!” Alastor exclaimed, his usual outfit now on. His grin remained constant as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “I do apologize for not being present for the past couple of hours. I had some business to do.”

“Yeah, her.” Angeldust mumbled, a smirk on his face. He lifted his face to look at you. “How was it?”

You just smiled, tilting your head. At that, the whole crew saw what you were trying to show.

Marks and marks of bites all over your neck, bruising it a little. They were surprised that it wasn’t bleeding with how wounded it was.

Angeldust’s mouth went agape with a smile. He wasn’t entirely serious about that statement, but for it to actually be true? This was a day he never saw coming. “Ho-holy shit!” He exclaimed with a laugh. “I didn’t realize it was actually true!”

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor #rut season #the way I got slightly interest in a deer's rut season #dear god what am I doing with my life #reader is alastor's wife #reader can kind of manipulate sound #lord have mercy on all of our souls

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jaxon-exe · 10 months

Text

Brawl Buddies

So this is just a fun one

When Danny becomes the ghost king at 18 other ghost kinda stop fighting him seriously. They like him as king and so while they will have a friendly spat with him every now and then no one really fights him anymore.

And Danny finds this strangely frustrating!!

It’s a ghost’s nature to fight!! Now he not only has to deal with everything that involves being king but he can’t get a good fight for the death of him!!

This frustration leads him to taking a ‘vacation’ in Gotham. Hoping to find at least one super-powerful person he can have a good show down with.

Turns out he didn’t have to look far as the first time he meet his new neighbour the guy immediately started throwing hands. This lead to a brawl that drifted threw both of their apartments, all the floors of their building, including the roof and out onto the street. Danny isn’t even mad when the guy calms down, stops fighting and starts apologising for randomly attacking him. He just shrugs of the apology and complements the guy on his strength and gushes on about how fun that was!! And how that was the best fight he’s had in years!! And if the guy even wants to throw down again they definitely should.

Jason meanwhile is confused as fuck by his new neighbour. He took one look at the guy and immediately flew into level 11 pit rage and somehow this guy fucking survived that?! Plus invited him to fight again????

At first he was just gonna ignore his weird neighbour and do his best to avoid him but a few days later he noticed that the pit was actually silent after the fight. Not just quite like it gets some times but fully silent for days. It wasn’t until it started to come back up did he noticed it was gone.

Deciding to get some answers he knocks on the weird guys door but as soon as he opens it Jason just can’t help but start swinging. After the fight he’s to exhausted to ask the guy questions and in the days following he just rides the high of a pit free life.

Over time he just stops questions it. It kinda just becomes routine. He stops avoiding Danny, he learnt his name after the 4th brawl, but never really talks to him. They just kinda exchange pleasantries when they pass each other in the hall most times. Then when the pit starts acting up again he goes over to Danny’s and the two of them duke it out.

Several months later Dick comes over for a surprise visit only to find his brother trying to kill some random guy??? Then when he did the rational thing and got in between them to stop the fight both of them turned and started yelling at him!!!!! Like he was the bad guy!!!! Then they just went back to fighting!!!!

Then when Jason’s eyes finally stopped glowing the two just started acting like best buds?????? Like Jason did not just throw this guy out a 2nd story window?????? Like the guy didn’t just beat Jason with a 2x4 he found in the alley?????????

What is going on????????

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #dead on main #ghost fight #friendship through fights

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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

Text

I know what they call you.

🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin

wc: 11k

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.

Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after.

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music.

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm.

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways.

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask.

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him.

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return.

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me.

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm.

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot.

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house.

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids.

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of.

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again.

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty.

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair.

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke.

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it.

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code.

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter.

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive.

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily.

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending. “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out.

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them.

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in.

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it.

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom.

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth.

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits.

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring.

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence.

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music.

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around.

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows.

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic.

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms.

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate.

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart.

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down.

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement.

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?”

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard.

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs.

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands.

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel.

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves.

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own.

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks.

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form.

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours.

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch.

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights.

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown.

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you.

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him.

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation.

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam.

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie.

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders.

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh.

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,”

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips.

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x shy! reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #steve harrington #mdni

2K notes · View notes

pshaven · 7 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ shotgun!

pairing! bsf!sunghoon x fem!reader x bsf!jake

wc! 5.6k+

cw! getting high, weed, shotgunning, oral (f & m receiving), face/throatfucking, p in v, if u squint there’s some plot, jake calls reader pretty/pretty girl, SWITCH SUNGHOOOONNN, softdom!jake to hard(?)dom! jake, WHINY SUNGHOON, kinda jealous n possessive jake nuanced, i think thats all lmk if i missed anything pls!

synopsis! when your best friend jake tells you about your cute new neighbor, sunghoon, you begin to take a liking to him and invite him to hang out. as the three of you begin to become closer, you make a realization that sunghoon is much more modest than you thought.

The first time you meet Sunghoon was through Jake. It was only a mere pass by when Jake saw Sunghoon moving into the apartment room next to yours while visiting and he had just caught a glance of him before entering your apartment unannounced. “Yo, new guy moving in next to you.” Your ears perk up at his words.

“What? The old lady finally moved out? Thank god, if I was going to get one more noise complaint from her I was about to get kicked out. How old is the new guy? Did you get a good look at him?” you bombard Jake with your curious questions as he gives you a mere shrug.

“About our age, I guess. He looks pretty young, but I dunno. Looks are deceiving. Like, you, for example,” he jokes with you, but you furrow your brows in confusion. Jake notices the confusion on your face, rolling his eyes. “I'm saying, the way you act doesn’t match the way you look.”

The next day, curiosity gets the best of you and you want to know what the new neighbor of yours looks like. Purposefully leaving some leftovers from last night’s takeout with Jake, you knock on the door with the tupperware in your hands. He takes a while to open the door, and you think that maybe he wasn’t home and prepare yourself to leave in humiliation but the door suddenly swings open, and your mouth feels dry.

“Hi?” Sunghoon says in a questioningly manner, head tilted to the side as you stare at him dumbfoundedly. He’s much cuter than you expected, and you curse Jake in your head for not telling you ahead of time that this guy is definitely your type. Jake, of all people, knows what your type is, and you assume he chose to not tell you on purpose so that you’d make a fool out of yourself.

You blink, slowly extending the tupperware of leftovers towards him. “I, um, I’m your neighbor, live right across from you. I had these leftovers, and thought I’d introduce myself to you, but I didn’t have anything else to give you and I can’t come empty handed.” You thought he’d give you a weird look, because why in the world would you give him your leftovers? Not even some homemade cookies or something?, but instead he takes the tupperware out of your hands and gives you a slight bow to show his gratitude.

“Cool, now I have something to eat for dinner other than instant ramen,” he says with a cheeky grin, and you think you might die; he’s so cute. The next thing you don’t expect is that he invites you in so that he could repay the favor, to which you insist that he really doesn’t have to, but who are you to deny a cute boy who wants you over at his place!

It’s 2:53am when you get back to your own apartment, and you immediately dial Jake to tell you about your time with the new guy, to which you have learned that his name is Sunghoon. Of course, when you call, Jake answers, so within two rings, despite it being in the middle of the night, he answers with a groggy “what’s up?”

You're high on adrenaline because of your newly developed crush on your neighbor and spending, basically, half of the night with him talking. “Oh my gosh, you won’t believe what just happened!” Before Jake can even guess or say anything, you’re already explaining your night with Sunghoon and the conversations that you two had. Jake’s half listening, still blinking his eyes open from the deep sleep that was interrupted and also because he can’t ignore this bad feeling in his gut, he feels like he might be sick as you continue to laugh and giggle to yourself over something stupid Sunghoon said. But the sick feeling easily goes away because your voice soothes him, and he feels himself snooze back to sleep.

“Jake? Hello?” You check your volume on your phone to make sure that it was up, but then a soft snore ensures that your volume is up. You smile to yourself, laying down on your bed as you set your phone beside your pillow. “G’night Jake,” you say in a soft murmur, leaving the call to run until morning.

You’re convinced that Jake and Sunghoon would make great friends, but for some reason Jake is reluctant over meeting him, which you considered odd since Jake loves meeting new people.

“But why not? I’ll come up with some excuse as to why we have to leave if you don’t like him! But I think that’s highly unlikely…” You try your best to egg him on, but he scrunches up his nose as if he was grimacing. You sigh, slipping off the couch and getting onto your knees, perfectly in between his manspread thighs as you plead with your hands interlaced together.

Jake’s eyes widen, suddenly squirmish as he bursts out a “O-Okay Okay! I will meet Sunghoon, jeez.” Why are you so adamant on him meeting Sunghoon?

You make a realization after Jake and Sunghoon’s first meeting– Jake’s a liar.

“He’s alright,” Jake says with a mere shrug, acting all unbothered as if he didn’t just spend the last two hours laughing his ass off at Sunghoon’s silly dad jokes. “You only like him because you’re bored, you’re looking for entertainment.” You feign a hurt gasp, hand over your chest with exaggeration.

“What? Nuh-uh!” You shove his chest, and he only grins at you. “You won’t leave me for him, right?” Jake asks with a sad pout, but you both know he’s just joking and totally not from his insecurities of losing you to your new neighbor.

Despite Jake’s words, the three of you find yourselves constantly hanging out with each other, mostly in your apartment and then going out for some late dinner at a place that opens late. Jake has no real bite, all bark since he’s asking when’s the next time Sunghoon can come over and hang. You think he’s got the bad case of a friend crush.

“Look what I have~” Jake hums, holding up a ziploc baggie of greens, and you sigh as you shake your head. “You know we’re hanging out with Sunghoon tonight, right? We can’t.” You inform him, to which he responds with a pout as he sets the baggie down on your kitchen counter before flopping onto the couch with you, head on your lap as he sulks.

“Stop being a big baby. We can tomorrow, if you want. Just not in front of Sunghoon,” you say, running a hand through his hair as you scroll mindlessly through Instagram reels.

“What not in front of me?” A second voice comes in, followed by your front door being shut. Both yours and Jake’s heads pop up from the sudden intrusion. Sunghoon has a raised brow, setting down his coat on your island, next to Jake’s baggie. “What’s this?” He refers to the green, to which you grimace and Jake lets out a sheepish chuckle.

“Nothin’, man! Come on, what are you craving for dinner? McDonalds?” Jake replies, standing up from the couch as he makes his way towards Sunghoon, reaching for the baggie before Sunghoon could question it any more.

“We just had McDonalds yesterday. Plus, it’s Y/n’s turn to choose, anyway. What do ya want?” Sunghoon furrows his brows at Jake’s suspicious actions as he quickly swipes away the baggie and slips it into his back pocket. So much for subtlety.

You straighten out your clothes as you stand up, shrugging your shoulders as you join the two boys. “Mmm…kinda craving some pho. You two okay with that?” And of course they’re okay with that, they’ll agree to anything you say or want, because, it’s you.

“I call shotgun!” Jake shouts as you open your front door while Sunghoon grabs his keys from his pocket. You playfully pout, “No fair… you always get shotgun.”

“So, are you guys gonna tell me what you guys can’t do around me?” Sunghoon suddenly asks, setting his ice cream sundae from McDonald's aside (as if the three of you didn’t get McDonalds yesterday already). Both you and Jake give each other a quick glance, and you sigh because you feel bad leaving Sunghoon out of something as the three of you have gotten so close over the last few weeks.

You reach over to the front passenger seat where Jake is sitting, digging your hand in his back pocket to find his baggie, to which he yelps in surprise at your hand coming in contact with his ass. “Hey! At least take me out to dinner first,” Jake frowns, and you roll your eyes. “We just had dinner, stupid,” you retort.

You hold the baggie of greens up to show Sunghoon, “It’s weed,” to put it simply. He slowly nods, as if he’s understanding a math problem but his furrowed brows and curious eyes tell you that he has more questions.

“I’ve never seen it in real life before,” he muses, more to himself than to either you or Jake, but you and Jake give each other another glance of silent communication. You open up the bag, interrupting Sunghoon’s little trance. “You wanna try?” You ask.

Sunghoon has his suspicions, but he can’t deny that he’s insanely curious and wants to know what it feels like. And, well, if you do it, he’ll do it. “I’ll take it with you,” You reassure him, and Jake is quick to add on a “me too!”

He slowly nods, shuffling in his driver's seat as he turns more to look at you in the backseat. “C-can, um, you guys do it first?” He’s stumbling over his words because he’s nervous, he’s never done anything like this before and has only seen weed on the news. You nod, handing over the bag to Jake to let him prep (because you’re lazy and you’re also his princess).

Jake glides his tongue on the edge of the wrap before sealing it, handing it over to you first. You take it with gratitude, putting the tip of it in your mouth and Jake brings a lighter up to the blunt, hand covering the light to ensure that it stays lit up. He pats your cheek lightly before you take a deep inhale, blowing it in Jake’s direction that is followed by a laugh.

“Wow, I roll and light it up for you and this is how you treat me? I’m offended, really.” Jake’s voice laced with sarcasm before snatching it out of your hands and taking an inhale himself. After he’s finished, blowing the smoke towards the dashboard as he’s trying to avoid directly blowing it towards Sunghoon, who has his nose scrunched up.

“It smells really strong,” He mumbles with a slight frown, and you grin at him. “We can roll down the windows, if you want…” You hum, leaning closer towards his seat, “But it feels better with the windows up,” you lower your voice, popping the ‘P’ at the end. His frown turns into confusion at your words, but he chooses not to question you.

“Do you guys feel it already?” He asks, eyes staring at the blunt in Jake’s hand. You both shake your head. “Nah, only one hit won’t do it for us. But for you, it will,” Jake informs, and Sunghoon hums in thought. “Then, can you guys keep going until you feel it? I don’t really wanna be the first one to be…um, high…”

You both nod, you and Jake taking multiple turns with the blunt before you start to feel it hitting. You lean your head against Sunghoon’s seat, staring at Jake as he takes a hit, his eyes starting to get a little red as he stares at you back. Sunghoon clears his throat, is he interrupting something?, “Are…are you guys feeling it now? Are you guys okay?” He asks, only concerned for his two friends.

You both nod slowly, silly grins on your features as Jake gestures to Sunghoon the blunt. “You still wanna take it? You don’t have to if you don’t want to…” He says, reassuring but his voice is dropped down an octave from the weed. Sunghoon gives a firm nod, he wants to, and plus, not like anything bad will happen.

Sunghoon takes the blunt out of Jake’s hand, holding it up towards his lips but you reach for his hand before he could do anything else. “Noo! Other side, Hoonie,” you help him flip the blunt around, and he nods and puts it between his lips. He looks at both you and Jake for reassurance, and you both give him a lazy smile and a thumbs up. He takes a deep breath in, trying to hold it in for as long as you did the first time, before letting out a few coughs in vain. You frown, rubbing his back in comfort as he recovers. “You okay, Hoonie?” You ask, and he nods, eyes still examining the blunt in his hands before he decides to put it between his lips again to take another hit. You and Jake exchange yet another glance, but Jake has a fair share of taking care of high people while being high himself, so what’s another?

Taking in a shorter inhale, he successfully blows it out before handing it to you. Jake giggles a bit at Sunghoon’s expression, seeing him already a bit dazed out as he leans his head against the headrest. “You like it?” Jake asks, in which Sunghoon responds with a lazy nod and a thumbs up. The three of you go into a fit of laughter over nothing, sharing the blunt between the three of you until it’s finished.

“O-M-G, Y/n and Jake, you guys basically kissed. ‘Cuz you two shared the same blunt!” Sunghoon exclaims in realization, fingers pointing at the two of you. You give him a raised brow and a small laugh, “Well, then that means we kissed too, Sunghoon. We also shared the blunt.” Jake interrupts with a gasp, then a fake gag, “Eww! That means Sunghoon and I kissed too! Bro, no offense, but gross.”

Sunghoon pouts at Jake before turning his attention back on you, hands reaching for your sweater and tugging on the sleeve, “Y/n. Which one of us is the better kisser? Me or Jake? You hafta be honest!” Jake scoffs at this before reaching for your other sleeve, also tugging on it with more force so that you’ll pay more attention to him. “Obviously, me. I real kissed her!” He announces proudly.

You cringe as Sunghoon’s face twists into confusion. “Huh? What do you mean, ‘real’ kissed her?” He asks while looking at you, a cute, pouty frown appearing on his features. You sigh, “It was just a weird, ‘heat of the moment’ thing… It was so long ago, really! And we swore to not speak of it again,” your last sentence laced with venom as you give Jake a look, where he only gave a sheepish shrug in reply.

“Fine, then. Guess I’ll have to make it even myself.” Sunghoon says quickly, giving you no time to react before you feel his unfamiliar lips on yours, but within seconds it starts to feel natural and the two of you mold together and exchange lazy and wet kisses.

Sunghoon has a different way of kissing than what you’re normally used to; he’s more deliberate– his kisses are with purpose and he likes to add sharp bites (all thanks to his fangs that you like to fantasize about in your free time) to your bottom lip. You make a muffled noise, a mix between a moan and a whine and both boys can feel both of their pants tighten.

Jake is quick to recline his seat all the way back, fondling with the bottom hem of your sweater, his other hand palming himself through his sweats. “Not fair, you’re hogging her!” He complains, grabbing the bottom of your chin, interrupting your kiss with Sunghoon as he guides you to meet his lips, your head dipping down.

“Looks like you’re getting my sloppy seconds,” Sunghoon teases while his hands are discovering your thighs, roaming every part until he gets to your shorts– flimsy and of thin cloth material that makes Sunghoon grin from ear to ear.

Jake’s too busy eating your face off to retort back, guiding your hand to palm over his pants, leading to him moaning into your mouth. “Lucky me, I like getting a little messy,” Jake replies when you both part to catch your breath. You whine impatiently at Sunghoon’s teasing fingers that are so close to where you need him. “Pretty girl…” Jake hums as he cups your cheek in such a loving manner that makes you think you’ve done it with him before (maybe you did, maybe you didn’t), “Use your words for him,” he says, nuzzling your cheek as he begins to pepper kisses.

You pout, eyes darting over to Sunghoon who’s already looking at you with hooded eyes, “Need you to tell me where you want me.” You immediately feel yourself break at his tone of voice; it’s so needy, you think he might start begging if you don’t say or do anything in the next minute. You nod quickly, “Here, want you here,” you gasp, grabbing his hand and guiding it over your clothed cunt, and you hear a swift curse leave Sunghoon’s lips.

But he pauses for a moment, and you try to buck your hips in a weak attempt for any friction possible and Jake notices. He chuckles a bit, still leaving wet kisses along your neck, “What? Don’t know what to do? ‘S okay, Hoon. I’ll teach you.” Sunghoon seems to frown a bit at Jake’s cocky words, but if he’s upset he doesn’t say anything and instead retracts his hand to give Jake’s hand room in between your legs.

Jake pulls away from your neck to intently look at your facial expressions as his index finger rubs light circles on your clothed cunt as if experimenting. “Jakeee,” you whine, lower lip pouting exaggeratedly and he plays with your hair with his other hand. “I know you missed me down here, pretty thing. I got ya,” Jake muses, hand suddenly dipping past your panties and finding your clit immediately which causes you to squeal in surprise, hand shooting to grab at his forearm.

“Heyyy~” Jake chuckles, “You’re the one who asked so nicely, why’re you declining now?” He jokes teasingly as his fingers prod at your hole, index finger slowly inserting inside you. You gasp, eyes shutting close as you feel the high start to wear off, suddenly getting a bit embarrassed. “Nuh-uh, eyes open. Look at Sunghoon, make sure he’s looking and learning,” Jake says as he pats your cheek softly and your eyes open in response, glossed eyes looking over at Sunghoon whose own eyes are darting between your face and where Jake’s hand is in between your legs.

“Take it off,” Sunghoon suddenly says in an impatient manner, and both you and Jake look at him in a bit of shock. “I can’t see,” he says like a baby who can’t see the fireworks on the fourth of July, but you obey anyway as you quickly kick off your flimsy shorts and panties onto the seat next to you. “So pretty,” is the next thing Sunghoon says as if he’s in a trance, and Jake only worsens it by spreading your pussy lips, and you swear you can see your wetness shine in the reflection of Sunghoon’s rearview mirror.

“It is, isn’t it? Wanna taste?” Jake promptly asks, and Sunghoon is quick to nod like he’s stuck on autopilot. You almost want to giggle, he’s like a lost puppy who wants to experience everything. Jake nods, and he pats your thigh before patting his own, motioning for you to lay on his lap. You climb your way to the front, and once you reach Jake’s lap, he’s quick to manhandle you to lay sideways on his lap so that your cunt is on full display for Sunghoon. You yelp in surprise, taken aback by the sudden four hands that latch onto your body– Sunghoon’s on your thighs and Jake’s going up your stomach to fondle with your breasts.

“Don’t be shy, Y/nnie. You know how to guide him, like you did for me before, right?” Jake taunts you, and your facial expression turns meek as you nod slightly, hands reaching for Sunghoon’s hair and slowly guiding his head down to meet with your pussy. “Just–” You start, but Jake interrupts you with a pinch of your nipples, “Just pretend like you’re making out with me, but it’s my cunt instead…” Your breath staggers a bit as Jake begins to play more rough, but you manage to give Sunghoon a small, reassuring smile before he dips down.

You soon realize that Sunghoon’s definition of “making out with your cunt” is different from Jake’s. The boy between your legs presses a soft kiss to your clit, then a little kitten lick, and what catches you off guard is how his tongue is suddenly in between your slit, lapping as if he’s searching for something. You immediately gasp, your hand originally resting on his head now turning into a fist. “Sh-shit!”

Jake’s always been more messy, with no technique or tactic but it’s so sloppy it still feels amazing, but Sunghoon goes in like he has an objective— to make you cum. His tongue does wonders in your entrance, and your pussy definitely responds back to him as your wetness continuously leaks down your thighs. “Taste good, Hoon?” Jake asks, but Sunghoon can’t even respond with words, he just nods against your cunt like an eager puppy.

“F-fuck—!” Your moans getting interrupted by none other than Jake, his lips meeting yours but you don’t expect the cloud of smoke to enter your mouth. Your eyes blink up at him, seeing a freshly rolled blunt in his free hand. When did he even roll that?! But you’re not one to complain, the effects of the smoke only heightening your pleasure.

You whine and beg, for both Sunghoon to not stop and for Jake to keep shotgunning for you, to which he complies because it’s just another excuse to keep kissing you without looking too selfish. You moan into Jake’s mouth for the nth time, Jake pulling away as he uses his other hand to reach down, finding your clit.

“Time to make you cum, pretty,” Jake hums, his index and middle finger rubbing deliberate circles as Sunghoon’s tongue works inside of you, drinking in all of your juices. You think Sunghoon might be enjoying this more than you, with him moaning and groaning into your entrance nonstop.

With the sudden intrusion of Sunghoon’s fingers replacing his tongue, you whine and gasp, free hand reaching down between your legs to grip on Sunghoon’s wrist tightly as if trying to pull him away but he’s a lot more resilient, fingers only speeding up. You look at him, seeing your wetness glistening on his face as he looks at you with such determination and admiration in his eyes, and you break.

“Oh my—Fuck! I’m cum—nng!” You moan aloud, legs beginning to shake as both Jake and Sunghoon help you ride out your high, eyes shutting as you try to catch your breath. Jake is first to caress your sides soothingly, thumb rubbing tenderly on your stomach. “You alright?” He asks, and you nod with a dopey smile on your face.

“More than alright… gimme another hit,” you mumble, referring to the blunt in Jake’s hand. He hands it to you as you begin to sit up on Jake’s lap, him stifling back a moan as you shift around on his hard on. You inhale from the lit up stick, glancing at Sunghoon who seems to be a bit dazed out, honestly probably already pussy drunk. You reach for his face, both hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him in for a shotgun.

His surprised whine is muffled by your tongue slipping in, and he’s quick to reciprocate the deep kiss while Jake decides to travel his hands down the small of your back. “Can I…” Jake trails off, but you already know he’s gesturing to your wet cunt. You shake your head against Sunghoon before pulling away, “So selfish. You get my mouth, you’ve already had my pussy before.”

Jake can’t even get a whine of complaint out before you’re pulling down at his pants, laying sideways across the console. A bit uncomfortable, but you’re sure you’ll be far too distracted to consider comfort as your first worry. He lifts his hips up to help you, hard cock leaking pre on his boxers. You grin up at him as you lean close, giving a quick lick at the wet spot to which he shudders, hand finding its way into your hair. “Suck or I’ll make it difficult for you to breathe,” Jake grumbles impatiently, slipping his boxers halfway down his thighs as his free hand takes hold of his cock to smother the tip all over your lips.

Sunghoon is also quick at work with you, shifting his seat a bit more back so that he has more room. He grabs hold of your thighs like before when he was eating you out, quickly undoing his own bottoms. He takes his cock out, tip nudging at your entrance but he’s unintentionally teasing you– his tip prodding at your hole that’s begging to be filled and to your clit that is throbbing with need.

You groan, swatting Jake’s hand away from the base of his cock to replace it with your own, “Please, inside, now! Need it!” You beg, playfully lifting your ass up a bit before Jake’s cock enters your hot mouth. He gasps in surprise, the hand in your hair tightening as he grabs clumps of hair at your scalp. “Shit–” He moans, head thrown back on the carseat, “Put it in, Hoon. What’re ya waitin’ for?” He mutters, but it doesn’t go unheard by the boy as you feel him start to enter your wet cunt, causing you to suck harder on Jake’s dick as a reward for encouraging Sunghoon.

“Oh…Oh my–Fuck!” Sunghoon swears, the grip on your hips and ass is tight enough to leave bruises until the next morning, as he’s bottoming out on you. You moan around Jake’s cock at the stretch, shaking your ass a bit to tease Sunghoon but the fingernails digging at your hips are telling you it’s a bit too much for him. “S-stop… shit. I think…” He sighs, breath heavy as he’s panting, “I need a moment…”

You giggle a bit at him but let him recollect himself, enjoying the warmth of his length inside of you. But the sudden thrust of Jake’s cock in your mouth catches back your attention. “Don’t lose focus on me, now, pretty. Didn’t I say suck? Or do you just not want to breathe?” His brow raises in question, but you think Jake wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt you so you disobey, your mouth and tongue staying still with his cock still resting inside.

“So cute,” he mumbles, and your eyes crinkle a bit in a smile but it’s soon replaced with wide eyes of shock when his hand tightens his grip on your hair, cock now repeatedly thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your gasps and whines are muffled, spit now drooling at the corner of your mouths and down onto his dick that only makes Jake’s cock twitch at the sloppiness. “Fuck, you really are so cute, aren’t you?”

You begin to feel shallow thrusts of Sunghoon’s cock inside; it's slow and short like he’s testing the waters. He pulls out until his tip only remains, seeing your juices glisten on the veins of his cock. He swears underneath his breath before bottoming out in one swift thrust, causing you to lurch forward and choke on Jake.

“My god—“ Jake hisses, eyes darting over to Sunghoon for a moment, “Do that again.” And like the obedient puppy he is, Sunghoon complies and pulls out all the way til his tip before going back in particularly hard, your mouth going deeper on Jake’s when you swear you can feel Sunghoon in your stomach.

“Feels so—so good,” Sunghoon moans out, feeling the way you clench around him at his whiney words. His thrusts become more quick but he still manages to feel so deep inside of you. You moan wantonly around Jake, hips becoming impatient as you begin to thrust back onto Sunghoon to chase your orgasm.

Jake’s hips don’t stop either from thrusting in and out of your mouth, his lap now all messy from your spit and drool. “You’re so pretty, just for us, yeah? Shit—“ Jake groans when he feels your throat contract around him, “Can’t hold back, g’na cum—hnng!” He holds your head steadily around his cock, thumb rubbing your cheek soothingly as he moans out your name.

He finally releases you, his hand still cupping your chin as he forces your jaw open to see his cum pooling inside your mouth. “Shit, so hot,” he mumbles before closing your mouth, patting the side of your cheek to signal you to swallow. You do so, your throat hurts a bit from the facefuck but you feel already more than satisfied.

You paw at Jake’s chest, and he understands when he pulls you into a sweet kiss, swallowing each and every moan that Sunghoon elicits out of you from behind, a bit too possessively, you would think if you weren’t fucked out of your mind.

“H-hoon…” You whine when Jake gives you time to breathe from your kiss. Sunghoon is already holding back from cumming so soon, his thrusts already getting a bit sloppy and his fingernails digging deep into your sides. “Ye—“ He gets cut off by his own shivers, “Yeah?”

“You- you can c-cum,” You try to tell him, voice going broken at the force of his thrusts, like he’s on a mission but you can tell he’s holding back. He gasps at your words, as if you had just given him permission to enter the gates of heaven. “Wh-what about you?” He asks, but his thrusts are already speeding up and going harder despite his concern for you.

“I’ll cum with you,” You say, looking up at Jake to silently ask for his help to make you cum, and he’s quick to respond as his hand snakes its way down your stomach to play with your clit while Sunghoon pounds needily into you. Your moans get louder with both the stimulation from Jake’s fingers playing with you and being filled by Sunghoon.

“Y/n.. I’m sorry—Ca-can’t take it, need to cum n-now—“ Sunghoon gasps in a loud whine, his hips now glued to your ass as he comes inside, his body losing control as he slumps over yours, his moans fanning your neck that gives you shivers. “F-fuck! Oh my godddd, shit, Jake!” You squeal, Jake’s fingers unrelenting on your clit as he rubs faster and even gives a few slaps to your pussy that catch you off guard.

“W-wait!” Sunghoon exclaims breathlessly, your pussy contracting around his cock as your orgasm approaches you quickly, your hips starting to buck against Jake’s hand but unintentionally stimulating Sunghoon’s already overstimulated cock inside of you.

You lift your head up a bit to look at Sunghoon, his sweaty forehead and furrowed brows are too cute and too hot to resist kissing him. Your hands grip onto Jake’s arm as you cum hard all over Sunghoon’s cock, moaning into his mouth through your kiss that he can barely reciprocate from being too exhausted.

Sunghoon eventually pulls away from you, out of breath as his chest heaves up and down when he leans back against the car window. You think you hear Jake growl from behind you, but you’re quickly distracted when he pulls you into another kiss with him, hand wrapping gently around your throat as he makes out with you sloppily.

You pull away when you feel Sunghoon shift a bit inside you, his dick beginning to soften. “Um, you can pull out, now…” You tell him softly like he’ll be hurt by it but he nods, a tense look on his face that makes you question what’s wrong. “Well, I w-would but, I feel too sensitive…” Sunghoon mumbles shyly, eyes trained on your entrance where his dick is still trapped inside.

You giggle, and despite your whole body feeling wobbly, you manage to sit up and let his cock slide out of you with ease, his cum now drooling out of your entrance, causing Sunghoon to hiss. “Was it too much?” You ask him, and Sunghoon’s attention from his overly sensitive dick is now on you from your question. “Wh-what? No, not at all… it was really good…” he answers you, eyes determined to portray his reassurance that he’s alright.

“Good! Then next time, you two can switch,” You grin, to which the boys both exchange confused glances before looking back at you. “Switch… switch what?” Jake asks you, a brow raised as his hand absentmindedly rubs up and down your arm.

“Don’t think you’re so subtle with your jealousy, Jaeyun~” Your tone laced in a hum, hand reaching up to ruffle up his hair. His jaw goes agape for a second, before his mouth is running with excuses for his previous actions. Sunghoon snickers at Jake, “Aw, didn’t know you were jealous of me, Jakey-poo.”

Jake gives him a death stare, which could probably last the whole car ride back home if you didn’t do something about it. “You are both so cute,” you pout as you admire the both of them, and they turn their heads to you like puppies, “Now why don’t you both just kiss and makeup, hm?”

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon x reader #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake smut #jaeyun smut #jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #smut #kpop smut

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twitchmattenthusiast · 4 months

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𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍, chris sturniolo !

summary: (fem oc!) avoids chris for a full week after having a sex dream about him. chris cant take it anymore and convinces matt and nick to help him get her alone at a party.

contains: soft / kinda rough dom!chris, slightt mommy & daddy kink if you squint, mentions of sex dream, riding & fingering.

requested: yes. irl bsf requested this one so this one’s for u bff 😘

"where the fuck are we going?"

"don’t you trust us, b?"

matt’s faux-exasperated tone had bianca throwing him a side-eye. nick, who stood to the left of bianca, chuckled, "i don't think she does matt."

it wasn't that bianca didn't trust them. she’s known the triplets literally her whole life, and matt and nick are like the older brothers she's never had. on a normal day, she would literally follow them blindly because that’s exactly what the trio were: the blind leading the blind. but with the current circumstances and the fact that she has been avoiding their brother like the literal plague, bianca can’t help but feel a little bit suspicious.

matt and nick had found bianca hiding—or at least trying to. it was always easy to find bianca at a party, considering after two drinks she was close to literally getting on top of a table and singing out of tune. anyway, she had been hiding with a group of her college friends that none of the triplets could even remember the names of, considering she didn’t hang out with them much. the fact that bianca was even at a party with them in the first place was weird; she always found it boring, but she needed an escape, and cheap beer with some questionable company had to do it.

bianca was sitting with one of her college friends, pouring another drink for herself, when matt and nick appeared out of literally nowhere, which confused bianca because why would matt and nick ever be at a party one of her college friends were throwing? grabbed her plastic cup from her hands, ignored her protests, and started dragging her out of the living room.

dragging bianca along, each one linked to her arms from both sides, passing in between the crowd of bodies gathered in the living room, occasionally having to push a drunk jock out of the way, and guiding her up the stairs into the upstairs hallway. they moved fast, and the people around her passed by like a sea of blurred faces.

bianca was suddenly thrusted forward when she reached one of the doors and were pushed inside by matt, who flashed her an apologetic smile, shrugging, "i’m sorry!" he said though he didn’t seem apologetic at all.

bianca glared at the door; she didn’t even need to turn around; she already knew who was sitting on the bed, as who else would convince their equally idiotic brothers to do this?

she sighed as she turned around, reasoning with herself that as much as she tried, she unfortunately couldn't avoid her best friend forever. sitting on the neatly made bed of some stranger's room was chris sturniolo, looking like a kicked puppy as he followed bianca’s eyes, watching as they averted around the room as she still stood at the door, unsure of what to do.

chris happily broke the silence, though. “so now i have to literally kidnap my best friend just to talk to her?”

leaning back into the cold wooden surface of the door, bianca tried to sound as unbothered as possible, knowing very well she was about to crack. "i wouldn't call that much of a kidnapping. matt and nick were giggling like literal idiots.”

when chris didn't answer, merely raising an eyebrow, unamused, she tried again. "so, uh... what is this, exactly? christopher. seven minutes in heaven? you know this isn't seventh grade anymore, right?"

“no, if it were seventh grade, you wouldn’t be ignoring me and acting weird.”

"i’m not acting weird.”

"then why can't you just look at me?" chris asked, frustration creeping into his voice.

"i-"

but as soon as chris opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop talking. “you’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague all week, and i need to know why."

bianca wasn’t avoiding chris.

or at least that’s what bianca has been telling him ever since he first confronted her about it. he showed up at her house a week ago, climbing through her window as he refused to use the door like a normal person, planning to stay up all night with her because og fortnite had just dropped, though she made an excuse about being sick and ushered him out of her house, causing him to be very confused because she looked fine at school earlier.

he brushed it off and didn’t text her the next day. when bianca was sick, she liked to be left alone; she hated people being around her when she was sick. but when three days had passed and she still hadn’t contacted him once, he attempted to call her, asking her what was wrong and why she was avoiding him. she couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, so she said she was still sick, and then hastily hung up the phone, avoiding his texts afterwards.

in school, when he attempted to approach bianca at her locker in hopes of talking to his best friend, whom he hadn’t seen or spoken to in four days, she rushed towards her class, pretending she didn’t notice him; she was running out of excuses.

the truth was, bianca couldn’t look her best friend in the eye anymore, let alone be in his presence, after the dream she had of him.

she sighed and looked down at the floor. “it’s nothing, chris; i’m just confused, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong; i promise it’s just...” she trailed off awkwardly.

there was a shift in the air, and the tension dropped as chris’s face lightened. hearing that bianca wasn’t mad at him was a relief. he rose from his place on the bed and walked over to her, stopping right in front of her.

“hey b?” he gently lifted her chin up, looking deeply into her eyes. “i’m not mad at you, okay? i was just worried; we used to tell each other everything, and then you started acting like this, and it’s been driving me crazy because i didn’t know what to think," he admitted.

"i know; i’m sorry." bianca finally mustered up the courage to meet his gaze. her eyes softened slightly at his concern. "it’s just... well, you know how crazy dreams can be sometimes," she added sheepishly.

"bianca..." chris sighed softly before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her close against his chest. he rested his chin on top of her head, savouring the familiar scent of her hair. "i promise i won't judge you for whatever it was. just, please, talk to me about it." he pleaded softly, hoping she would finally break down and tell him what had been bothering her all week.

bianca sighed, her body leaning into his warmth. "okay, fine," she muttered reluctantly. taking a deep breath, she began to explain, "it’s just that... well, i had this weird dream about us... you know?" she stuttered, her cheeks turning crimson red.

chris raised an eyebrow. “oh yeah?” he asked. his sweet tone started to fade away as he smirked slightly.

bianca just nodded her head, missing the smirk in his tone as he asked, “what happened in the dream?" though he kind of had an idea already, and he’d be lying if he said the images weren’t going straight to his dick.

"in the dream, we were both, you know..." bianca managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.

“oh, i think i know.” chris’s smirk grew wider at her discomfort, his eyes glittering with excitement. "and what happened next?" he prompted, eagerly waiting for her reaction.

bianca swallowed hard, her heart racing faster than normal. "uh, i was riding you.” she admitted weakly.

“that sounds hot."

bianca’s eyes widened as she pulled away from chris. “what?” she asked in shock. she couldn’t believe she was even admitting this to him.

“you heard me.” chris smirked.

bianca’s face reddened slightly, and chris smirked. “what do you say we make your little dream come true, hm?"

bianca bit her lower lip, her eyes darting around the room nervously. "chris, we can't!" she protested weakly.

"no?” chris raised his eyebrows. “if i pulled your panties aside, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be dripping?” he asked, noting how her thighs were pressed together.

"i... i..." stuttering, bianca couldn't find the words to argue anymore. her body was betraying her, and the warmth between her legs confirmed it all too well.

"come on, ma,” chris said as his hands trailed down towards her ass, squeezing them tightly. “made you feel good in your dream, hm? let me make you feel good in real life.”

unable to resist any longer, bianca nodded, and chris grinned triumphantly. he pulled her closer, pressing his lips to hers and kissing her hungrily, their tongues tangling together in a messy dance. chris suddenly motioned for her to jump, and she instantly complied, jumping and wrapping her legs around chris’s waist as he kissed her harder, walking towards the bed and pushing her onto it. he pulled apart from her lips, his lips covered in her lipstick, though he didn’t seem to care as he said, “tell me what i did to you in your dream, ma.”

"y-you were kissing my neck, and then you started to undress me slowly,” she gasped as chris’s lips attached to her neck, bitting, licking, and kissing her skin. his hands trailed down her body, making their way to her back as he unzipped her dress effortlessly while still kissing her. she gasped as the dress fell and his hands started to cup her breasts over her bra.

“like this, ma?” he asked.

"mmm..." bianca groaned, enjoying the sensation of his hands on her breasts. "yes, just like that," she managed to croak out between moans.

"good girl," chris praised, pulling away from her neck long enough to whisper into her ear, "now tell me what happened next." he nibbled lightly on her earlobe before sucking it softly, causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

he continued to tease her nipples through her bra, making them harden further. "come on, mommy,” he teased, knowing that was a secret kink of hers that he heard her overshare one time. “don’t be shy; tell me what i did next."

she couldn’t help it. the use of the word mommy always made her feel some type of way, so she no longer held back. "you pulled my panties down, and you fingered me."

"that’s a good girl," chris praised as he finally took her lacy bra off and sucked on her nipple harshly before turning his attention to her wetness. he began to rub slow circles around her clit through her underwear, creating waves of pleasure that radiated throughout her body. "tell me how bad you want me to touch you there, ma," he demanded huskily.

bianca moaned loudly, her body arching into his touch. "please, chris. i need you to touch me." she begged, her voice hoarse with desire.

chris grinned triumphantly, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. he hooked his fingers underneath her underwear and pulled them down slowly, revealing her smooth, shaven pussy to him. "just like that," he praised before lowering his head and sucking her clit between his lips, his tongue flicking it teasingly.

bianca moaned so loudly that chris had to place his hand over her mouth. "you need to be quiet, b. don’t want people to hear us, do you?” he asked as he inserted a finger and wasted no time in moving it quickly in and out of her, smirking as she threw her head back.

"after all, that would mean i’d have to stop, and you don’t want me to stop now, do you, baby?”

bianca nodded frantically, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "no, please don't stop." she begged, her body trembling with desire.

chris chuckled darkly, his finger moving faster inside of her, hitting her g-spot just right. "you’re such a naughty girl, bianca," he teased before suddenly stopping, leaving her hanging on edge. "but i’ll reward you for being so good." with that, he slowly inserted another finger alongside the first one, stretching her tight entrance as he began to thrust them in and out of her wet pussy.

bianca whimpered softly, her nails digging into chris’s back for support. "more, please, give me more," she begged, her voice shaking with need.

"mhm, i don’t know, ma,” chris teased. "is this better than your dream?” he asked.

"yes, yes, it's better," bianca panted, her voice barely above a whisper.

chris chuckled again, his fingers picking up the pace inside of her and hitting her g-spot harder and faster. "that’s a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "now, spread your legs wider for me."

bianca complied, spreading her legs apart as wide as they could go, exposing her sensitive folds to him. her body trembled in anticipation, begging for more.

chris didn't disappoint her. he added another finger, stretching her tight pussy even further. "do you like that?" he asked, his voice gruff with lust.

bianca nodded. “yes, chris, i love it,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back as she felt her legs start to shake. “chris, fuck, i’m-“

"cum for me, baby."

with one final push, bianca’s body convulsed violently, and she cried out his name as waves of pure ecstasy washed over her. her juices coated his hand and arm, leaving a sticky mess on the sheets.

chris smirked and lowered his head to kiss her sweetly on the lips. “you did so well, you know that?" he told her, his voice husky with satisfaction. as bianca caught her breath, he undressed himself quickly, revealing his hardened dick, which was dripping with pre-cum. "we’re not done yet, though, ma."

bianca moaned at the sight; she didn’t expect him to be that big. chris chuckled at her reaction and attached their lips together again. bianca moaned into the kiss sucking on his tongue as chris flipped them over so she was on top. she broke away from the kiss and looked at him in confusion.

“wha-“

he stopped her. "if i remember correctly, you said you rode me in your dream, hm?” he asked as she nodded her head.

chris grinned. "well, it’s also my dream for you to ride me. wanna see those tits bounce for me, ma.”

she nodded nervously, her hands shaking as she reached down to guide his cock into her tight entrance. slowly at first, bianca began to lower herself onto him, groaning softly as the head of his cock brushed against her sensitive spot.

“oh fuck," she gasped, her eyes wide with surprise and pleasure. "chris, you're huge."

“that’s it, ma,” he moaned back, his hands on her hips, guiding her up and down his length. "take it all."

bianca moaned and sank right down onto his lap, the pair both groaning as they looked down and realised their bodies were perfectly aligned. she slowly rode him up and down, her breasts swaying enticingly with each thrust.

his hands gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements while his tongue traced along her neck and collarbone.

“that’s it baby," he panted, "ride me like you mean it."

bianca moved even faster, throwing her head back. “feels so good, daddy,” she moaned, and chris’s eyes darkened.

"that’s it, ma," he growled, his hands moving to cup her ass firmly, encouraging her to ride him harder.

bianca picked up the pace, her breasts slapping against his chest with each thrust. the rhythmic motion of their bodies created a symphony of sounds that filled the room—moans, gasps, and the wet slapping of flesh against flesh. their combined moans echoed off the walls, making them both lose themselves.

"i’m so close, chris." bianca gasped as he sucked on her nipple harshly.

"me too, baby," chris groaned, his own climax nearing. he increased the speed of his thrusts, matching her rhythm perfectly. their bodies slapped against each other in sync, creating a perfect rhythm of pleasure and desire.

bianca’s orgasm built up quickly, and she cried out his name as another powerful wave of ecstasy washed over her. her tight pussy contracted around his cock, milking him dry. when she finally came down from her high, she collapsed on top of him, panting heavily.

chris followed suit moments later, his own release filling her up completely. they lay there for a moment, their breathing gradually returning to normal.

“fuck that was.” bianca stuttered to out of it to even form a sentence.

chris chuckled and slowly pulled out of her. he headed towards the bathroom in the room, returned a moment later with a warm washcloth, and began gently wiping the mess they made off her thighs. bianca smiled softly, and once he was done, he helped her put her panties and bra back on.

he pecked her lips softly. "you okay?” he asked.

“never been better," she replied.

“good.” chris smiled. “but next time something happens, promise you’ll tell me instead of avoiding me?”

“if this is what happens afterwards, then I'll be telling you about every dream i have.”

｡°✩

not a chris girl but this could of single handedly converted me

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo

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verstappen-cult · 24 days

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hiii idk if youre doing reqs rn but how about lestappen x reader where shes unused to being taken care of, having to succumb to the fact she needs help after an injury (nothing too graphic like maybe a sprained ankle or a broken wrist) and max and charles trying their best to make her understand that they *want* to help and that she has to let them and her yk kinda warming up to the idea idkkk😭 feel free to ignore it i js thought it was sweet✋️😔

You turn on the kitchen lights and Charles and Max are immediately pausing the game and turning around, surprised to see you supporting all your weight in your left leg, while keeping your balance by leaning against the wall.

Max is up in a blink of an eye. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” He helps you walk to one of the stools by the kitchen counter.

“I wanted something to eat.” You say, sitting down and trying not to show how relieved you are. Your ankle is still hurting but you don’t want to worry them.

“You could’ve just told us.” Charles joins you and Max in the kitchen. “What do you want?” He asks you while walking towards the fridge.

You wince, looking down at your hands. “I can prepare something. You’re busy.”

“We were just playing FIFA.” Max leans down to leave a kiss on your cheek. “We weren’t exactly busy.”

“Still,” You argue back, this time looking at your blonde haired boyfriend. “I can do it myself.”

“You’re supposed to be resting, or you’re not gonna get better.”

Charles is right.

And just because of that you accept his offer to make something to eat.

“I’d like some pasta, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Charles frowns as he takes all the ingredientes out of the fridge. “If it’s not too much trouble? Are you hearing yourself?”

Max gives him a disapproving look when he sees you look away.

“You sit here and we’re gonna take care of it, okay?” Max smiles before helping his boyfriend to avoid any incident like it always happens when Charles cooks. Or tries to.

While they’re occupied you think that is a good idea to take a shower to feel fresh and clean before dinner.

But the second you move to get up, Charles is by your side ready to help you.

It makes you feel a lot of things, some good and bad — especially some bad ones. Because the last thing you wanted was to cause trouble and have them running behind you to help with whatever you need, forcing them to cancel events to stay at home with you. Which is exactly what happened.

“What do you want?”

You groan, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“I’ll run a bath for you.” Charles smiles brightly, forcing you to sit back down. But you don’t let him get away, grabbing his wrist.

“I can do it,” You feel stressed and a burden, and there are tears pricking your eyes. “You don’t need to do everything for me.”

Max stops chopping the vegetables to pay attention to you. “We know that,” He says with a weird expression on his face that you don’t really want to think about right now. “we’re trying to help you. You fell down and are in a lot of pain even if you want us to believe otherwise.”

You blush because you thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding how bad you actually feel.

“When we said that we want to take care of you, it was because we mean it. Nothing is more important than you.” Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles, while you feel really small and scolded like a little kid.

“I just–,” You hide behind your hands, finally letting the tears fall freely down your face. “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

They stay silent for a few minutes. And then, you feel Max arms on your back while Charles lifts your chin up with his fingers. They look softly at you which only makes you cry harder.

“Oh, princess.” Max wipes the tears with the pad of his fingers. “We love you. Of course we want to take care of you and help with anything you need. You’re never gonna be a burden for us, okay?”

“I know you’d do the same for us.” Charles lets you rest your head against his chest as the both of them hold you in their arms. “Will you let us take care of you?”

You want to say no, but deep down you want to be taken care of. But you’re so used to doing everything by yourself, you never had someone worrying this much for you, never had someone who cared. And now you don’t have one but two people willing to drop everything just to take care of you.

You nod against Charles’ chest, tears still flowing down your face, and whisper, “Okay.” Even if you still want to fight against it and do everything by yourself.

Maybe things need to change a little.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #lestappen x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader #max verstappen fluff

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month

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Flirty+Bimbo!Reader using Loser!König as a one night stand

Good luck trying to explain the concept of One Night Stand to this guy. You got with him because he looked nice, kinda like a murder puppy of that one giant dog breed. He looked awesome, really, in that dark compression shirt that showed off his beautiful muscles and just the right amount of tummy, and he was respectful enough not to stare at your cleavage like you're a fucking meal...so, obviously, you wanted to check out if the bulge in his pants really promises the kind of ride you like so, so much. Obviously, you grabbed his hand and made him walk behind you, so he would certainly get the message that you want him at your place, preferably with his pants down by the moment the two of you reached the bedroom. Sex wasn't the hard part. He is as big as you wanted him to be, and it felt awesome - you were getting even dumber on his cock as he was plunging into you like a man who didn't have a woman in ages...although you kinda knew that he probably really haven't - so it made him all the more desirable. God, you wanted to fucking devour him and put him in his place...even though it kinda felt a bit weird when he started to mark you and whisper all of that creepy stuff into your ear - like how he was making you his, how much he appreciated the tight warmness of your cunt squeezing him, how freaking good everything felt...yeah, it was fucking weird - still, you tried your best to ignore it and just lay on his chest in drunken post-sex haze. It felt great - you can't move your legs, your pussy is numb, and your tits are squeezed and played with so you can feel the marks forming... Problem started later. A) He is in the fucking military. Which is not alarming to your little bimbo brain, no sir, but he started to talk in weird things like colonel and mercenary and all of that stuff, and your brain got turned off immediately. He then showed you some of his guns and it was kinda cool, you guess. Still fucking nerdy. B) He really thought you were in a relationship. He refused to acknowledge the existence of a word one-night stand, and started talking something about making you a decent woman - like you want to, geez...he sounds so old, it's kinda lame. Reminds you of your dad - although the money transactions kinda make him your daddy. So...yeah, one night stand is never going to work. Even if you're trying to ignore his messages after, he will only get more desperate - and we all know what this loser will do if ignored for long enough. At least he would buy you a pink mattress for the basement...

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #loser!konig #bimbo!reader

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say-al0e · 15 days

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Hypothetical

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Eddie asks a lot of hypothetical questions, just to hear your answer. The answer to this question was more real than you wanted to admit. Warnings: Tiny bit of self-doubt, idiots to lovers. Pairing: Eddie x fem!Reader (think it could be read as GN but just to be safe) Word Count: 2.7k

“Would you fuck my clone?”

The question, asked as casually as if he were inquiring about the weather - though, to his defense, he’d asked weirder - rose above the sound of chainsaws emanating from the television and earned a confused frown as you spared him a sideways glance.

Eddie’s attention remained mostly on Leatherface, chasing unsuspecting victims, but you caught his curious glance as you laughed. Those were the first words spoken in over an hour, certainly a record for your verbose best friend, and you couldn’t help but ask, “What the fuck, Eddie?”

“What?” From his position at the end of the couch, feet propped on the coffee table and head lolled onto the cushions, he shrugged. “It’s a simple question. Would you fuck my clone?”

A beat of silence passed, in which you realized this was one of those moments where Eddie wouldn’t let the question go until he was given a satisfying answer, and you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the question, Eds,” you countered. “Isn’t it usually, ‘would you fuck your own clone’?”

With a dismissive wave of his hand and a scoff, Eddie finally sat up and turned his full attention to you, screaming teenagers and chainsaws forgotten now that he had something better to capture his attention. “That one’s boring,” he reasoned. “We know all the arguments. This is a different question, new arguments.”

“I think we’re fine without arguing,” you teased, reaching for the nearly half-empty bowl of popcorn. “Just watch the movie, Eddie.”

From the corner of your eye, you watched as a look you couldn’t quite recognize flickered across Eddie’s face. However, just as quickly as it appeared, it was covered with a raised brow and a teasing grin. “We’ve seen it a hundred times already. Anyway, what I’m getting from this is, you would fuck my clone. Interesting.”

Eddie did little to hide his amusement as you rolled your eyes and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. “I didn’t say that,” you argued, despite yourself - despite knowing that you were walking into a conversation you weren’t yet sure you wanted any part of.

A hum, unconvinced, met your ears as he reached for the bowl and plucked it from your hands. “Okay,” he prompted, ignoring your outraged huff. “So, tell me. Would you?”

There were a handful of ways you could respond to his probing. The first, shut down his question with a point blank refusal, phrased as a light-hearted joke that did little damage to his ego and even less to your already fragile nerves. The second, play into his game and debate the pros and cons of sleeping with his clone, the ethical ramifications, the conversation he clearly wanted. Or, the third, admit to him a fact that you’d concealed since the summer of 1984.

Any way you could have him, real Eddie or clone, you would take it.

That was, solidly, not in the lead. So, you opted for the second approach.

“Jeez, Eds,” you sighed, stealing popcorn from the bowl now resting on his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe,” you conceded. “Depends, I guess. Is he, like, total you or some weird, kinda fucked up clone? Like, is he totally evil or incapable of coherent thought or, I don’t, off somehow?” As an afterthought, you joked, “More so than the real you, anyway.”

“Rude.” There was no bite in the declaration, only a fond amusement that made your chest ache, but you did your best to ignore it as he hummed. “Clone’s a totally normal, complete carbon copy. Everything about him is exactly the same, down to the last hair.”

“So, no aspirations to rule the world or become, like, the next Leatherface?”

Eddie grinned. “That’s my backup plan, you know, if music doesn’t work. So, guess it’d be his, too,” he admitted, only breaking into laughter when you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “Seriously,” he relented, “nothing weird. Just another me. Everything you know and love, times two.”

With a sigh, you lifted your legs onto the couch and hugged your knees to your chest. “Then… I don’t know,” you admitted, voice barely audible over the screams still echoing from the television. “Maybe?”

“It’s a yes or no question, babe,” he reminded you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he studied you. “Shouldn’t be this hard.”

That look, the one that you had difficulty placing, returned and despite your uncertainty as to what it was, you were certain that you didn’t like it very much. Doubt, or maybe hurt, were the closest emotions you could identify though neither made much sense to you in the moment.

Still, rather than ask, you rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”

There was none, it was just for fun - a debate, like the thousands of others you’d had over the course of your friendship - and Eddie said a much as he shrugged. “Isn’t one,” he declared, offering you the last handful of popcorn. “I just want to know if you’d fuck my clone.”

When you refused, he returned the bowl back to the coffee table before reaching for your ankle. With a gentle tug, he encouraged you to rest your feet on his lap as his fingers began to tap a beat that only existed inside his head against your skin. “Why does it matter?”

Eddie shrugged once more, though this time, he glanced at the television rather than you as he answered. “Because I asked and you always answer.”

“I do,” you relented, sighing as you also spared the screen a glance. “Well, what’s the right answer, then? There has to be one.”

This time, he shook his head as the tapping of his fingers grew a touch faster. “Right answer’s the true one.”

For a moment, you simply studied Eddie. His side profile, bathed in the warm glow of the television, was the picture of concentration as he watched a scene you’d seen a thousand times before. Only, you knew him well enough to see the telltale signs that he was in no way paying as close of attention as he should’ve been.

The slightest tick in his jaw, the quick bite of the inside of his cheek, the delayed blinking; all signs that he was waiting more intently for your answer than he wanted you to believe.

Rejection - no matter how hypothetical - never seemed possible when it came to Eddie. So, you sighed and conceded, “Okay, fine. Sure, I’d fuck your clone.”

Eddie hummed, seemingly unsurprised and feigning nonchalance as he nodded as if the answer confirmed something he already suspected. And there were a thousand ways in which you expected him to respond; none of which could’ve compared to him declaring, “So, you’d fuck my clone but not me.”

Again, rejection was not an option. However, you had no intention of admitting to him that you’d wanted him for years. There was no world in which you could see yourself admitting to him that you thought he was beautiful - with his doe eyes and playful grin. Telling him how you felt would likely end in an awkward silence at best and a ruined friendship at worst.

So, you opted for a careful denial. “What? I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re not saying anything to the contrary,” he countered, turning his head to spare you a cursory glance. There was something there, beneath the amused glimmer in his eyes, that unnerved you - something far more serious than you were expecting - but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

When you shot him an unimpressed glance, cutting your eyes at him before returning your attention to the television, he shrugged, teasing grin never faltering. “I never said that. I answered a hypothetical and you’re reading into it.”

Eddie met your perhaps too sharp denial with a raised brow as he gave up the guise of watching the movie. “So, am I wrong?”

“Would you stop putting words into my mouth?” You huffed as you reached for the bowl of popcorn, desperate for something to distract yourself from making a confession you knew you would regret. “I never said that. All I said was that I’d fuck your clone, I answered the question.”

“Okay, fine. You never said you wouldn’t fuck me but it’s never happened. Never even sort of, almost, maybe happened,” he reminded you - as if you needed it. “So, you would fuck my clone but not me. Why?”

“Because we’re friends, Eddie,” you shot back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you popped a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “I’ve known you since I was ten.”

The excuse sounded weak in your own ears, but it was all you could muster without breaking down and confessing that you would, in fact, sleep with him. If only he’d ask. If only it wouldn’t destroy your friendship. If only it was that simple.

Still, Eddie was relentless. “But my clone would have all my memories, totally the same person,” he reminded you. “He’d be your friend, just like me. But you’d fuck him. So, why not me?”

“This is stupid,” you huffed. “Why do you care?” He’d never pushed so hard, not in pursuit of a hypothetical question meant to pass the time, and you were genuinely curious why he seemed so interested in your answer, or your lack thereof.

“I’m a naturally curious person,” he argued, shrugging as he squeezed your ankle. “It’s just a stupid hypothetical. C’mon, why would you hypothetically fuck my clone but not me?”

There was little doubt in your mind that he would continue pushing until he got the answer he was looking for, especially as it seemed that he’d already made up his mind that he was right, so you shifted yourself in a huff. With your legs now hugged to your chest, eyes on the television to avoid meeting his gaze as you admitted in a snap, “God, okay. I’d fuck your clone because it’s the closest I’d get to being with you without actually destroying our entire relationship. Happy with that answer?”

“What?” Eddie sounded genuinely surprised and you could feel the warmth of his gaze burning into your skin as you purposely kept your gaze on the television.

“If your clone is you, all your memories, your mannerisms, your looks, I’d fuck your clone because then I’d get to see what it’s like to be with you,” you admitted, words escaping despite every fiber of your being telling you to be quiet. “I’d get everything without the risk of losing you when I fuck it all up.”

Eddie shifted closer then, careful to keep a few inches of space between you but no longer nestled into the opposite edge of the couch as he tipped his head to get a better glimpse of your face. “What do you mean, when you fuck it up?”

Frustrated tears - at admitting a secret you swore would follow you to the grave, at allowing him to get under your skin when he was simply asking an innocent question, at allowing yourself to get so worked up over something so simple - stung at the backs of your eyes as you huffed. “I’m… you know me, Eddie. I don’t,” you sighed, cutting yourself off, before taking a deep breath. “I’m prickly. I don’t do well with romance. I freak out and run,” you reminded him. “Even if you felt the same, if we worked out enough to not have our friendship go down in flames, there’s still a chance I’d fuck it up and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to run from you.”

“Hey.” Eddie shifted even closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body, and sighed when you refused to glance at him. Regardless, he exclaimed, “That’s why we’d be different.”

“What?” Of all the things you expected him to say, that was the last. With furrowed brows and tears still lining your lashes, you tipped your head to glance at him. “Why?”

“Because,” he began, meeting your eyes for the first time in what felt like hours, “when you try to run, I know what you’re doing. When you get all weird or try to push me away, I know it’s not really you wanting me to go. I know you. I get you, just like you get me.”

“Eddie.”

Of all the ways you’d expected him to react, of all the ways you expected him to acknowledge your feelings for him, returning them was not on the list. For years, you’d convinced yourself that there was no way he would return your feelings, there was no way you would ever be able to acknowledge those feelings without losing your best friend, and there was still a deep-rooted fear that, despite his seeming certainty that his understanding would make a difference, any attempt at a relationship would only end in heartbreak.

That didn’t seem to matter to him as he pressed on. “I’m serious. It’s us,” he continued, this time reaching out to press a hand to your knee. “It’s always been us, always will be us. There’s nothing you can do to get rid of me. Not now.”

“You can’t know that,” you sighed, though it was nowhere near as confident as you hoped it would be. “We can’t see the future.”

“We can’t,” he agreed. “Not yet, anyway, but the nineties seem promising.” When you rolled your eyes, barely suppressing a smile, he laughed. “But that’s the fun part. We do our best to make our own future. It’s always going to be together, might as well come clean and really be together instead of making ourselves miserable pretending.” Before you could respond, offer another half-hearted refusal, he pressed on. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything.”

Eddie shook his head, completely unconvinced that anything bad would come of allowing yourselves to try. “I don’t believe that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

“How can you be so certain?” You wished you had an ounce of Eddie’s certainty, his true belief that the pair of you could make it, but you were skeptical. Neither of you had much luck in life, neither of you had much outside of one another, and losing him would be far too great.

However, you were tired of pretending that a shared future was not what you wanted.

The possibility that your future could go up in flames, that you could destroy the best friendship you’d ever had, worried you. It kept you awake at night. But now knowing that Eddie felt the same, that he wanted the same future you did, there was no way you could turn him down.

For all your fear, for all your hesitance, saying no was not an option.

“Because we’ve been in love for years and nothing bad has happened yet.” He said it as if it was the most obvious answer he could give, as if it made all the sense in the world, and if you really stopped to think about it, it did.

“Can you promise me something?”

Eddie shifted ever closer, nodding easily as you reached for his hand. “Anything.”

“Can you promise me that no matter what happens, we’ll always be friends? Even if we don’t work out, if something happens, promise me that we’ll still be there for each other.”

“I promise. Nothing hypothetical about that,” he agreed, corner of his mouth lifting when you offered a soft smile.

The moment stretched around you, nothing existed outside of the pair of you as Eddie tugged you into his side. It was easy, natural, and you melted into his touch despite the fear lingering in the back of your mind.

There was a brief worry that this could be a mistake. That allowing yourselves to intertwine your futures so thoroughly would only end in heartbreak, but he was right. For as long as you could remember, it had been you and Eddie. There was nothing that had managed to wedge you apart yet. And pretending had no guarantee of working in the long term.

So, you decided to dive in to the deep end and allow yourself to truly fall. There was no situation, real or hypothetical, in which he would allow you to hit the ground.

No matter what, you knew that he would be there to catch you.

________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I spent my entire day in meetings. All the meetings. So many meetings. I also have a dentist appointment on Wednesday and I am Terrified. So have this.

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#stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #eddie munson fluff #v's fics

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