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cillianhead · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could write a little smutty/angsty something for Neil Lewis. Maybe bestfriend!reader, who recently got with some other man, and Neil is incredibly jealous and maybe... possessive. 👀 Some angst heated argument finished with a smut would be lovely. 🤭

Thank you!

Of course, of course!

Thank you for your request!

You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive || Neil Lewis x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, best friends to lovers, swearing, slight (?) drug use (marijuana), jealousy, unprotected P in V, Neil is quite obsessed with reader's boobs (because c'mon, NEIL IS A BOOB MAN!!!) like sort of switch!neil but not quite, adult content!

18+ Minors DNI

It was a slow Friday night at Gumshoe Video. You had closed by now, though. You sat between Lucien and Jonathan, a bit stoned, and watched some horrible Horror-Parody film called 'Bad Taste'. You had zoned out, drowning out Jonathan and Lucien's incessant bickering about the film and whether it was good or bad.

"-It's Peter Jackson, for Christ's sake. It's a masterpiece of its time or whatever," Lucien argued. Jonathan just scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "It's supposed to be ridiculous!" Lucien protested.

"Are we watching the same movie?" Jonathan grunted with a hint of amusement. "How the hell did someone see this and think... 'yeah, that's the guy we're getting for Lord of the fucking Rings'!"

Lucien quipped back something particularly witty and sarcastic, but it all turned into one big blur of words to you. You were incredibly bored and stoned that none of what was happening on the TV screen made sense. You looked like a zombie, lips parted and an expression of awe on your face.

"Not this stupid movie," You heard the sound of Neil's voice from behind you. Quickly sitting up and turning to look at him, like an expectant dog when its owner comes home. "I've got the snacks if you guys even care." Lucien and Jonathan grumble their words of appreciation while you just sat and smiled at your best friend.

You all had smoked together, but you hadn't really prepared for the munchies that would come along with it. So you flipped a coin, and poor little Neil was the one who had to go to the nearest convenience store and buy as much junk food as he could carry. Two seafoam green plastic grocery bags were hanging off of Neil's sturdy forearms that said 'Recycle Me!' on them while he stood, smiling back at you.

"What'd you get Neily-poo?" You hummed, standing up and approaching him.

"I hate it when you call me that," Neil grumbled before handing you one of the bags. "I just got all the classic snacks... Cheetos, Twizzlers, Lucien's favorite white chocolate... and of course, I got your favorite..."

You squealed out of delight, lunging on Neil and wrapping your arms around him. "Did you really?" You said, pulling away with your arms still around his neck. Neil hummed while pulling the familiar mouth-watering box of Swedish Fish out of the grocery bag.

You properly pulled away now and snatched it out of his hand greedily. "Hey...! Wait... where's my thanks?" He tilted his head, tapping his pointer finger on the apple of his cheek. You rolled your eyes playfully before placing a grateful peck on his cheek.

You two sat on the spare couch together. You leaned against Neil, as you always do, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you. It had always been that way with you two, both very physically affectionate with each other. Though not when Neil was in a relationship, you knew how threatened his girlfriends felt by you, though you never understood why... Neil was always insistent on how you were just a friend, even going as far as to say you were like a sister to him.

When the movie ended and Neil had a bit more to smoke, you all sat around munching on your snacks, thinking of what to do next.

"Do you guys wanna come over to my place, and we can do this again tomorrow night?" Neil asked, scratching at his chin.

"Sure, I'd love that, dude," Jonathan nodded before popping a handful of peanut M&M's into his mouth. "Sounds great." He said with his mouth full.

"Gross!" You scolded, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. "Don't eat with your mouth full..."

"What did you just say?" Lucien laughed.

"I mean... don't talk with your mouth full!" You corrected, and everyone sat around giggling at that. "You knew what I meant!" Your cheeks heated up with embarrassment at your mistake.

"...and yeah, I'll come over tomorrow night." Lucien said to Neil. Neil gave him a thumbs up before turning his head over to you.

"How about you, Y/N?" Neil hummed, sighing as he leaned his head against the couch, cheek smushing a bit as he smiled softly down at you. He's so pretty, I just wanna kiss him, You thought."You wanna come over?" Yikes, you thought. You bit your lip and sucked in a breath. "Well... I... well... actually, I've got plans tomorrow, guys... I'm sorry." You shrugged apologetically.

"What?" Jonathan murmured, mouth still full, chewing obnoxiously loud.

"Since when do you have plans?" Lucien remarked. You gave him a dry smile.

"I'm going on a date... believe it or not," You snorted, looking down at your lap, embarrassed to admit. You never really talked about your love life with the guys, especially not Neil. Things always got awkward. Neil never discussed his with you either; you'd only briefly meet his girlfriends, and then that was it. You didn't understand why it had to be so awkward between you when discussing dating.

The room went silent at that. You looked towards Neil, his arm retracted away from you and tucked back into his side as you noticed the frown on his face. You could see the look on Jonathan and Lucien's faces, eyes flickering between the two of you, trying to gauge some sort of reaction.

"Oh..." Neil mumbled, sounding disappointed, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth and chewing dryly. "Good for you... congratulations..."

"We're not getting married," You laughed uncomfortably. "Plus, I doubt it's gonna be anything that special... we're going to some downtown dive bar to have drinks and then probably go back to his place or something..." Neil had a visible expression of distaste, fiddling with his thumbs. You didn't get why he was so upset. "What's his name?" He said, voice barely above a whisper.

"Russell."

"Russell." He repeated coldly. Jonathan and Lucien were utterly silent. The tension was thick, and trying to waft through it felt suffocating.

"Why are you upset?" You blurted out. "Can't you at least be happy for me for once that I'm finally fucking going out with somebody?"

""Course I'm happy for you, Y/N, I just don't want you... to get hurt..." Neil muttered. "That's all."

"Right." You scoffed, scooting to the other side of the couch.

The tension was unbearable, and Jonathan shifted uncomfortably on the couch. Things always got weird when you brought up a guy you like or a guy you were seeing. You never got why. Why would Neil be upset that you were seeing somebody? How many girlfriends did you have to sit and watch him be with? How many painful breakups have you comforted him through? How many times had you encouraged him to go over and talk to a girl he thought was pretty? A countless amount of times, that's what. So the fact that the mood visibly shifted as soon as you said you were going on a date... it pissed you off. Neil was never encouraging when it came to putting yourself out there romantically. It was almost like he was jealous, but you knew he had no reason to be.

"How'd you meet?" Lucien cleared his throat, trying to lighten the air.

"Well when I was here alone the other day... he was in the shop-"

"He was in the shop?" Neil interrupted with a whine, eyebrows knitted together.

"Yeah, he was, so what?" You turned and looked at Neil, glaring at him.

"Can't believe you're going out with a customer," Neil muttered. "Thought you were better than that." "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"It... no... nothing, just-" "God forbid I meet someone!" You were standing up now. Lucien and Jonathan had gotten up and wandered over to the other side of the shop, pretending they were browsing the shelves. "How many fucking bimbos have you asked out that had come in here, Neil?" "Y/N-" "I'm leaving." You barked, grabbing your things and rushing out, not before giving Lucien and Jonathan a gentle wave before slamming the door and walking home in the pouring rain.

The walk home was long and treacherous. Usually, Neil would drive you home. But you couldn't stand to be around him right now, not after his hypocritical words. When you got home, you collapsed in bed, still in your wet clothes, and cried your eyes out. Thunder cracked outside, and your windows rattled with the harsh wind. Your phone began to ring, the familiar ringtone you assigned to Neil's contact buzzing through your pocket. You just groaned.

"Go away, Neil." You grunted into your pillow, bickering to no one. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Curling up into a ball, the tears continued to fall. You hated the way you felt towards Neil; you hated that you wanted him to be more than just a friend. Your phone kept ringing, and it only made you cry harder.

You remembered freshman year of high school when you first met Neil; you instantly clicked and were in every class together. Everyone always thought you were dating, and you'd both share a round of 'Ew's and 'That's never gonna happen' and then silently look at each other thinking 'What if' (unbeknownst to each other). You always daydreamed about losing your virginity to Neil, the scrawny, awkward pimply boy who was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, though you ended up losing it to some guy called Lloyd over a dare. It wasn't very romantic, nor was it pleasurable. You just laid there and thought about Neil the whole time.

The sleep you got that night was terrible, but you tried to focus on the positives. You were going on a date! Yay! Not with Neil, though. You spent the day mostly picking out an outfit, mentally scolding yourself for not deciding on it sooner since most of your good clothes were dirty and you were feeling incredibly antsy. Your phone had been blowing up all day. Texts from Neil, Jonathan, and Lucien lit up your screen every other second. You didn't reply, you couldn't, you felt entirely too embarrassed.

Meanwhile, Lucien lounged on the couch at Neil's house, and Jonathan watched Neil pace back and forth in his kitchen while making handmade whipped cream. They were going to make a cake.

"I just don't know what to do, man," Neil huffed, stirring the bowl even more aggressively. Jonathan watched, unsure of how to comfort his friend. "What the fuck do I do? What if this guy is like... her soulmate or something cliche like that?"

"Okay," Jonathan laughed, putting his hand in the air. "Russell is not her soulmate." "How do you know? Have you met him?" Neil hissed back.

"No, but... how do we even know this 'Russell' guy even exists? What if she's just trying to make you jealous?"

"That's a good point!" Lucien quipped in from the other room.

"Thanks, Lucien," Jonathan rolls his eyes before looking back at Neil, who has set the bowl aside, melting to the floor with tears. "Look... dude, I think you should go over there and tell her how you feel... the worst she can say is no..."

"The worst she can say is no," Neil mocked, tears streaming down his face. "Yeah fuckin' right! She's gonna..." Neil sobbed, hiding his hands in his face. "I'll go over there, and she'll... never want to speak to me again... she wouldn't feel the same way... it's impossible!"

Jonathan looked exasperated. It was painfully apparent to everyone but you and Neil that you two were soft for each other. You usually spend every day together. The idea of losing you to some other guy was heartbreaking for Neil. Neil cried like a baby, and Jonathan watched, awkwardly leaning against the counter, unsure what to say.

"Just fucking do it, you fucking idiot!" Jonathan blurted out. "I know she likes you... do you really think Y/N would've stuck around this long with us losers if she didn't feel something for you?"

"I don't know, Jonathan..." Neil whimpers, looking up at Jonathan with the most pitiful eyes anyone has ever seen. He looked straight out of a painting.

"And even if she doesn't feel the same for you..." Jonathan continues, crouching down to be at his height on the floor. "You guys have known each other way too damn long to just throw away a good friendship over you liking her. Y/N's a smart girl. She'll learn to accept it if she doesn't feel the same way."

Neil just buried his face further into his knees, continuing to cry. "Gee, you'd think he just got his period or something." Lucien said unhelpfully.

"Shut up, Lucien!" Neil and Jonathan yelled in unison.

"Listen, I think you should just tell her... she ain't responding to any of my texts... and I don't know how it's gonna go with this Russell guy tonight, so I reckon you should head on over there..." Jonathan rambled. Neil still stayed in the same place, with his head in his hands. "Like right now!" Jonathan yelped, and Neil jumped at the sudden shift in volume and tone.

Neil approached your house as you sat in some dive bar, waiting for your date. His key twisted your locked door. Unbeknownst to him, the house was completely empty. And as he walked in, Russell was yet to arrive, over twenty minutes late to your date. At this point, you'd accepted that you had been stood up and patted yourself down, ensuring you had everything you brought.

"Y/N!" Russell's voice greets you, clearly out of breath. "I'm so sorry for being late... traffic was awful." Yeah, right, you thought. But you gave him a small smile and sat back in your booth. "That's alright," You pressed down your skirt that rested uncomfortably high on your thighs, trying to calm your nerves. The leather of the seats stuck to your thighs as Russell began making small talk. How boring. You found yourself zoning out as you downed the drink Russell had bought you just to try and cope with the terribly grim situation you were dealing with. Russell was some sort of accountant. Just the idea of finance lulled your brain into a state of boredom and borderline sleepiness. Russell's voice was monotone, and the way he licked his cracked lips every time he spoke made you feel queasy.

Meanwhile, Neil sat on your couch, spread out and feeling hopeless. No other person could ever compare to you, never ever, ever, ever. The thought of you meeting this guy he didn't know anything about except for his god-awful name and possibly hitting it off... maybe starting a life with him... the jealousy was sickening. Genuinely sickening.

It was festering within him, after all these years of watching men come into the store and flirt with you, the jealousy... the possessiveness... that another man talking to his Y/N... brought on was just too much for poor little Neil to handle. The jealousy was now fuelling the reason he still stayed. As soon as you walked through that door, with Russell or not, he'd get on his hands and knees... and beg you to love him... beg you to love him the way he loves you.

An hour went by... and then another, by now, it was nearing 10:30 PM, and Neil wasn't even sure if you were coming home. He then remembered your words of 'going back to his place afterwards' and felt like the biggest idiot in the whole world. He felt like he had lost you... like he was mourning you. His heart broke silently, and the heavyweight in his chest grew to be too intense, too blue to even cry. So he stood up and sighed, looking around your apartment before saying his goodbyes. I won't be over much now that she has a boyfriend, Neil thought. But as he turned around, about to walk out the door, there you stood with your key still in the lock looking at him like you'd look at an angel.

"Neil?" You asked softly as if it could possibly be anyone else.

"Y/N," He gasped, rushing to you, hands reaching out to you. "Please listen to what-" "Who's this?" Russell asks with a scoff, leaning on the doorway. Neil backed away like he had just entered a cock-fight he knew he couldn't win.

"Russell..." You shifted to look at him. "I think it's better if you just go... we can... we can see each other another time." "Yeah, alright," Russell shrugged, playing it cool but Neil saw the flicker of annoyance flash through the man's eyes. Russell turned back around and left, leaving the two of you alone.

"What are you doing here, Neil?" You chided, closing the door and deadbolting it behind you before walking over to the couch with Neil.

"I... I need to talk to you..." Neil whispered. You sat right beside each other, staring into each other's eyes. A feeling grew in your chest like you knew what he was about to say. "Y/N..."

"Neil..."

"I..." He faltered, his eyes looking down at his lap as he reached out, holding both your hands in his. Your heart did a spin at this, lips parted as you breathed heavily. What is happening? "I.... fuck... I don't know how to do this," Neil pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, clearly about to cry. "I've watched so many goddamn movies you'd think I... you'd think I'd have the right thing to say."

"Neil," You whispered, your voice coming out like a warning. "Just say it."

Neil looked up at you, speechless. The expression on his face was truly indescribable. Almost like a dramatic build-up, the room was silent, giving each other this look. This look you had never openly given to each other before.

"I don't want to kill my time with anybody else," Neil began, taking deep breaths. The sounds of cars passing by and trees swaying in the wind could be heard, along with the pounding of your heart. "You're the only one who makes me feel alive."

"Neil," You warned, looking away from him. "Why now?" You blurted out, quickly smacking your hand over your loose mouth.

"Wha...?" Neil asked, torn completely out of the moment by just those two words.

"Why are you telling me this now?" You questioned. Your hands ran down your face. "Why, Neil, Why?"

"What do you mean?" Neil shook his head, eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean?!"

You were standing up now, you couldn't be close to him, you felt too dizzy. "After all these years... why are you only telling me this now?"

"I-I... I..." Neil stammered, utterly speechless this time. He wasn't expecting this reaction, he couldn't quite place what you were feeling. "I was afraid, Y/N."

"Of what?" You raised your voice and he flinched and suddenly the guilt hit you like a freight train. Tears fell down your face, ruining your makeup.

"Of losing you! Losing the only person in my life who actually matters!" Neil stood up as well, approaching you. Like a game of cat and mouse, you stepped away while he kept trying to round the coffee table to get to you. "I need you, Y/N. I need you to know how badly," He pleaded with you, but you couldn't find a way to let him further into your heart. He'd hit bone if he went any further into it.

"Neil, I don't know anymore! You're so confusing!" You screeched as he bumped into you, knocking you down onto the couch and he knelt in front of you, pleading eyes staring up at you. "I don't know what you want from me!" You cried.

"I want everything," He whispered, hands placed on both of your thighs. "I want to be yours... I want you to be mine. How do I make this any clearer?"

"I don't... I don't have you," You felt like you were being torn apart. "You don't want me. You just... you're just confused! You don't want me! You want..." You closed your eyes, thinking about the women Neil had dated. You felt like he wouldn't be satisfied with you... you felt like you weren't pretty enough or you were too boring or too familiar. "I don't have you... Neil... and I never will."

"You've always had me. Every second of every day... you've had me. I'm yours." Neil whispered, hands squeezing your thighs. "Please. I need to know."

"Need to know what?" "That you'll take me," His fingers travelled further up your goosebump-covered skin. "That you'll let me in, Y/N."

"How?" Your hands shook as you looked him in the eye again. This time... it felt like you were looking at a completely different man. It was no longer just your best friend you were looking at... but the man pleading with you to love him as if you hadn't been silently loving him from afar... all these years.

"Please let me show you."

Neil used his hands to balanced himself as he slowly and intimately leaned in, lips brushing yours every-so slightly. "Neil..." You whispered.

"Shh...." He hushed.

And your lips joined together. It felt like your body had let him in, like he was rewriting your DNA and letting every part of him consume you. He sat beside you now, cradling you in his arms as you kissed slowly. This was all so new to you, unlike any other kiss you had ever experienced. Every other kiss before this just felt like you were trying to negotiate something... but this... this kiss felt like your body had found its missing limb like it had found what it had been lacking all these years.

A string of spit connects the two of you as Neil softly pulls away, panting for breath. "Am I in yet?" He chuckled.

You tilted your head, squinting and stroking your chin, pretending you were struggling to decide. "Maybe... I don't know yet... think you'll have to try harder..." Your voice was still a bit shaky from crying. "Alright," He snorts before diving back in and kissing you rougher this time but still in that romantic, slow way. One hand placed on your hip and the other guiding the back of your head as you made out. Tongues pawing at each other like they were getting acquainted.

"Please touch me," Neil whimpered into your lips, and oh fuck, that was the most divine noise you had ever heard. "Please." "Only 'cause you asked so nicely..." You hummed, pushing him down and straddling him. You watched as he threw his head back, biting his lip and holding back the noises he so desperately wanted to make at the feeling of you sitting on him. Your fingers fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, watching him writhe underneath you at only the slightest touch. You popped each button out individually and slowly until Neil was groaning with annoyance.

"Don't be such a tease, Y/N," Neil grunted from behind gritted teeth once you had his shirt off. "If you felt how hard my dick was right now-"

"Oh, I do!" You giggled cheekily, slowly rolling your pelvis in a slow circle right over the tent in his trousers that poked into your thigh.

"You fucker-" He groaned, reaching his arms up and grabbing your head roughly and pulling you into a soul-sucking kiss, tongue grappling at yours desperately.

You moaned through dancing lips as you had the most delicious friction going. Neil was being just as loud as you, whimpers vibrating through your sternum and into your soul. Neil bucks his hips up pathetically before he breaks the kiss abruptly.

"You've gotta stop or I'm... I'm gonna..." He buried his muzzle in your neck and moaned. "I'm gonna fuckin cum in my pants." "Oh yeah?" You grinned, grinding your hips even faster.

"That means stop!" He grabs ahold of your wrists and flips you around like you were in a wrestling competition. You gasped out as he had you down against your couch, panting heavily above you with that frustrated-and-horny look. "I knew you'd be a little brat." He spat menacingly before grinning like a puppy, leaning down and kissing you heavily.

You ran your hands up your shirt, trying to pull your shirt off which made Neil pull away slowly when he realized you were taking your top off. "Are you sure?" He said breathily, above you, mouth wide open and his eyes glued on every inch of skin that was slowly being revealed more and more. You just nodded your head and smiled. "Oh fuck, you're showing me your boobs." Neil's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop. "Neil," You giggled as you got the top off and out came your tits, and there was Neil sitting there in disbelief at the sight of your boobs. "Neil!" You laughed, hitting him with a cushion; he smacked it away before looking back down at them with this look that almost resembled a look of horror. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Fucking hell, this is the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil chirped. "Fuck... please, Y/N... please let me squeeze them."

"Go ahead, Neil, touch me," You hummed, raising your arms above your head and leaning back with a Cheshire cat grin as his hands slowly and cautiously cusp your boobs. He let out a soft moan and let his eyes flutter shut as he slid his hands over your breasts, you could hear his breath hitch as his thumb slid over your hard nipples. "You're acting like you haven't touched a boob before," You snickered.

"Oh, believe me, I have..." Neil nodded, eyes open now and staring at your tits like he was high. "Just none as good as these..." He leaned in, hot breath fanning your left breast, lips parted but he doesn't go any further than that.

"Put it in your mouth, pretty boy," You demanded, and like the sub you always thought he was, he obeyed with a smile. "Fuck... that's it." The tops of his cheeks were flushed a gentle pink as he sucked and swirled his tongue around your nipple. "Mmm...." He hummed, eyes closed. His full body weight was resting on you while he sucked on your tits, switching between them. You laid there for quite a while and wondered how long he could do this. You braided your fingers through his hair before tugging it back roughly, and he unwillingly popped off your tit with a loud and whoreish whine.

"Hey!" He complained with eyebrows knitted together as his eyes looked between your eyes and spit-covered tits. He's so spoiled.

"I always knew you'd be a little brat." You said, repeating what he said to you earlier.

Neil drools on you helplessly, groaning as you pull on his hair more until you two are sitting up facing each other. You grin once more and lean in, giving him a sweet little kiss. His hands cupping your tits desperately.

"Carry me to the bedroom." You hummed dramatically, raising your arms in the air, and Neil shook his head and chuckled as he leaned down and wrapped you up in his arms.

"I'm so glad you're my best friend," Neil murmured into your warm shoulder as he padded you guys down to the bedroom he had been in countless times.

"Not just best friends, though," You remarked as he laid you down on the bed with your legs over his shoulders. He reached towards your bedside table.

"Condoms?" He hummed, searching through your drawers, but found nothing.

"Birth control... you should know this you idiot!" You giggled at Neil realizing what you just said.

"Can I...?"

"Yes!"

"Like... inside?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes!" You nodded your head, laughing wildly.

"Fuck you're gonna be the best girlfriend ever!" Neil grunted happily before leaning in and kissing you like you were his last meal.

Meanwhile, he slid your skirt down and unzipped his trousers. You caught a glimpse of his thick cock straining against his briefs and found yourself growing wetter.

"Let me make you mine, Y/N..." He whispered. "Let me finally make you mine."

"I've been yours," You caressed his face. You were both out of your underwear now. The tip of his prick nudging your clit as you looked up at him with so much love. "Please... Neil... please... I need you so bad."

Neil nodded silently, closing his eyes as he lined up his aching cock with your dripping cunt. The initial push in made your mind go blank and your spine arch even further into his touch, Neil moaned as he pushed himself into you fully.

"I can't believe this is happening..." Neil whispered. "This is so much better than I ever imagined it to be."

"You thought about me?" You grinned idiotically, high on the way he was stretching you out.

"Fuck," He groaned, hair falling over his pretty face. "Every fuckin' night."

"Me too."

His hands were placed firmly on your hips, and as he receded back until it was just the head of his cock in you, his fingers slid up to grope at your tits that his eyes had been practically glued on all night. Neil fucked you nice and slow, relishing in the way your pussy felt around him. Your hands were gripping the sheets, legs still thrown over his shoulders and mouth spewing incoherent words of pleasure.

"Neil... baby... oh my god," Your eyes so desperately wanted to shut but you wanted to enjoy how pretty he looked above you. "I love you."

Those words hung heavy in the air for a moment, Neil's hips never faltering as he leaned down and kissed you. "I love you, Y/N." Neil whispered against your hot mouth.

That was all you needed to hear. His cock slid in and out of you, both groaning and moaning as your bodies finally became one. Neil's mouth hung agape against yours, breathing in each other's air. Neil's face was flushed a bright red, pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from how you ran your fingers through it. Your noses brushed together as his pelvis rutted against your clit, dick still so deep inside you.

"I love you so much," Neil panted, thrusting into you desperately. "I always have..."

"Love you..." You whimpered, eyes fluttering shut and your arms slithering around his neck as the pleasure consumed you from the inside out. "So much... Neil..."

Neil pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling your face as he ground into you. "Fuck, please let me cum inside you."

"I'm so close, Neil..." You whispered. "Just hold on a little longer."

Neil grunted. A pyramid of pleasure building within you, ready to crash down and crumble inside of you. Your orgasm grew like a million tiny vines curling around each individual nerve until you saw colors you had never seen before.

"Squeezing me so tight," Neil whined. "I need to cum... please..."

"Cum," You commanded and he did.

Coming undone together felt like it was truly sealing your fate. You had never felt so close to him; you knew you could and would spend the rest of your life with him. He mewled into the crook of your neck, cum spilling into you as you convulsed, orgasm swallowing you whole and ridding you of all your senses. All you felt was him and the impending pleasure devouring you. Neil's whimpers only further pushed you over the edge.

"Y/N," He moaned like a whore. "Fuck... Y/N..." He whined right into your ear as his cock continued to fill you with his warm cum.

Your brain couldn't conceive a proper thought. You couldn't will yourself to speak as he collapsed on top of you. You smile as you lay there together, skin on skin, hearts pounding in sync. Neil pulled out of you with a quiet hiss, picking you up and curling up with you under the sheets.

You looked at each other silently, both still calming down. Your thumb drew infinity signs onto his cheekbone, slowly blinking at the boy you had always wanted- no, needed.

"That was the best thing to ever happen to me," Neil whispered, sleepy eyes looking at you full of adoration. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me." Neil pecked you softly on the lips. "I can't believe it took me this long to tell you... I... I'm sorry." "Shh..." You hushed. "It's okay... we're together now... that's all that matters."

You lay in silence once more, hearts still pounding in your chests. You took in every detail of him, which you had memorized countless times before, but this time it was different. It felt much more intimate. Every crease, every freckle... every tiny minuscule detail of him was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"Does this mean we're boyfriend-girlfriend now?" Neil chuckled, rolling over onto his back, pulling you into his side.

"Shut up, Neil," You giggled. "You're such a dork."

"You love it." He quipped.

"I do," You agreed. "I love you."

"I love you," Neil smiled sweetly, and as he leaned in to kiss you again, you were quickly interrupted by the sound of Neil's phone ringing. "Fuck me," He grunted, reaching down to grab at his jeans where his phone was. "Hello?" He said with a sour face. "Hi, Jonathan, everything is okay... yes, she's here with me..." Neil looked down at you with a smirk. "Yes, Lucien can borrow my goggles... I don't care... can we talk about this later?" Neil hung up and tossed his phone aside before looking back at you with a sheepish smile.

"What was that about?"

"Well... erm... Jonathan just asked if everything went well... between us..." Neil blushed.

"He knows you're here?"

"He's the reason I came over... he gave me the courage to... y'know... tell you how I feel."

You rolled your eyes and laughed before kissing him deeply. You felt like everything was okay. Now that you had Neil in your arms, you could handle anything that life threw at you. Neil was already planning your wedding in his head as you shared the love between you in a kiss. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else

I NEED NEIL LEWIS.... LIKE RIGHT NOW!!! Ugh, I love him so much. Anyway, hope you enjoyed <3

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #neil lewis #watching the detectives #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #cillian x fem!reader

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drugsorgasmsandcheese · 9 months ago

Text

trouble, j. miller | chapter two

mob!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter summary: your first shift at apocalypse lives up to the standards that you hoped for, and you work your charm on everyone there. money and validation never hurt anyone, and you definitely didn’t mind it.

chapter warnings: alcohol consumption, food consumption, uh oh curse words, joel miller being a “power to the people, stick it to the man” man (we believe in that over on this blog), reader & dancers shake ass bc they can, google translated spanish 😍, no beta again, AND DID SOMEONE SAY JAVIER PEÑA!?

word count: 2274

also can u guys start asking me to be on this taglist by either bribing me or threatening me idk i think i’d just like to see “add me to your taglist or i’m gonna be under your bed at 9:03pm”

(series masterlist)

when you step outside of the changing room, you head over to the snack drawers. you may have eaten before you arrived, but turning down free food was a sin in your eyes. you settle on a pack of hot cheetos and some trolli candy before sitting in a high chair and allowing lucy to do your makeup.

lucy was a lovely woman. she told you the basics about her, how she’s trying to save money so she can buy her first apartment, the name of her cat, etc. and, jesus christ, lucy was good at make up. her shade match was amazing, the blush and contour sculpted your face well. the eye make up was a smoked out black wing, with purple eye glitter on your eyelids. your lips were glossy, pouty, and fucking sexy, if you did say so yourself.

“lucy, i want you to know that if you ever decide to dump your boyfriend, i will be right here waiting for you.” you take another look at yourself in the mirror. “i look so hot i want to fuck myself.”

lucy giggles, and the two of you join adele, who runs you through everything you need to know. when she gets to the hourly pay and tips, your mouth drops in shock. “damn, didn’t realise joel was such a socialist.”

adele and lucy laugh. “baby, he pays everyone here good.”

lucy nods. “dancers get their money from customers and an hourly pay too. he treats us all good, it’s why we all like working here so much.”

you get to know some of the women whilst you’re there. you dance with them, they teach you some moves that are part of their routines, you sing with them. in all honesty, a lot of time hadn’t passed and you felt like you would defend these women with your life.

a knock sounds on the door, and adele opens it to find joel standing there. he beckons you with his hand outstretched. you give your goodbyes to the girls, dramatic as ever but you would miss this moment between you all, even if they did say you could drop by this room any time you want like the other female waiting staff did.

you join joel’s side, his hand going onto your lower back again as he guides you to another room.

“kitchen. head chef is joey,” he points to an elder man with black hair and a slight stubble. he seems mean…you’ll fix that. “that’s quinn,” he points to a woman with blonde hair, “and that’s tim.” you look at tim. tim looks stoned. you think about joining tim to get high on your next shift.

“hi everyone!” you wave at them giddily.

“some guests like food whilst they’re here, ‘s why we have the kitchen. ask for something for yourself and they’ll whip it up for ya’ too.” joel checks his watch, and you don’t know much about watches, but it looks expensive and you unconsciously gulp. he’s rich, damn.

“i’ll take ya’ back up to my office so we can go over some stuff before we open.”

when you get to his office, joel offers for you to take a seat across from his. his chair, however, spins, and you’re much more fascinated by that instead of the boring sofa. you take a seat on the rotating chair and begin to spin on it. joel sighs, shaking his head like he was surprised by your behaviour thus far.

“need to go over the shifts you can do. now, i don’t want ya’ overworkin’ yourself or being too tired for your damn lectures. so tell me what shifts you can do for now, and we can go over the rest later.”

you stop your spinning and look up at him. “i can do weekend shifts at any time. um…i have a nine am lecture on tuesday and thursday. wednesdays i don’t have a lecture until three, and mondays and friday i can work after five.”

“alright, give me your number so i can arrange your shifts. you get paid in cash every week and you’ll collect it from my office at the end of the night.”

you smirk, lifting your index finger up to your lips and biting down on the tip. “my number? joel miller, you flirt! take me to dinner first, please.”

he says your name sternly, a warning. “give me your damn number and get outta here. damn trouble, you are.”

you giggle, writing down your number on a piece of paper and giving it to him, and taking an ipad that carries the menu on it, sauntering out of his office and heading back to the dancer’s room.

——

at nine pm, the club doors open and you have your first group sat in one of the v.i.p. booths. a woman orders a sex on the beach, and the other orders a martini. you take the order down to the bar to gather the drinks and meet the bartender.

he introduced himself as javier, shaking your hand and kissing it gently, making you giggle. you knew you were going to get along with him very well.

as you wait for the drinks, one of the dancers comes over and talks to you. chelsea, her name is. a real blonde bombshell who you think would’ve been amazing in the barbie movie. she’s got a bubbly personality and a cute laugh. she tells you that she attends the same college as you, studying chemistry and physics.

you’re cut off when javier places your drinks on a tray and passes it to you. you give a little wave to chelsea as she is called to a booth to entertain the men.

“don’t be a stranger, mi amor.” javier calls out to you, and you giggle.

“and miss out on you? never!” you shout over your shoulder.

as you walk through the v.i.p. floor, you spot some of the girls and give your greetings to them, winking and grinning as they walk by. you make it back to the table and place the drinks down in front of the two women, and you gasp at them both.

“i just noticed your make up, holy shit! you girls are stunning.” your customer service skills deserves an award, and you’re forever thankful that you’re a massive extrovert and can get away with half the shit that comes out of your mouth.

the girls give their thanks to you, complimenting you back and you shrug them off. you were getting tipped tonight whether they liked it or not. you were hellbent on winning everyone over.

it’s when you’re putting in an eighth round of drinks that you feel a hand on your lower back yet again. you turn your head to see joel, looking down at you.

“need you in booth five.”

“alright, just gotta get these drinks from javi and some orders from the kitchen and i’ll be with you.” you smile at him, and joel walks away back to the booth.

you take your drinks from javi, and he doesn’t forget to give you some pet names in spanish, and you head back to one of the private rooms. you see a woman by the name of destiny dancing on a small stage with a pole as you give the men their drinks. she winks at you and you return it.

you place the drinks down in front of the men, taking your tray as you lean down and whisper to the closest one to you. “i’ll be back with your food, sir.”

and you return within five minutes, having won over the entire kitchen staff with your undeniable charm. you arrive with two large plates of nachos that the three men share between themselves. one of them slips you a hundred dollar bill, and you blow a kiss his way as you leave the private room.

men were too easy sometimes.

you enter the soundproof glass door of booth five, stepping in and pulling out your tablet. “any drinks i can get for you guys?”

a bald headed man orders a jack and coke, one with a skin fade orders a budweiser and you had to do a subtle double take on him because men in their thirties have skin fades? huh, you learn something new everyday. you look at joel and he shakes his head. “i’m alright, darlin’.”

you smile at him, placing the orders through on the tablet. “i’ll be back soon. let me know if you need anything else.”

as you walk up to the bar, you smile at javi. “oh, my beautiful husband. how i’ve missed you.”

javi looks at you and smirks. “ah, mi pequeña esposa, you’re back. what drinks do you need?” {my little wife}

“jack and coke and a budweiser.” you respond, resting your arms flat on the bartop and placing your head on it as you watch jack make the drinks, your tablet sat right next to you. “javi, what’s the weirdest drink you’ve had someone order?”

“bloody mary with passion fruit liquor.” he grimaces, as do you. what kind of sick fucks were drinking bloody mary’s anyway? and you can make a bloody mary worse? ew.

“i wanna see a drink named after me on this menu one day.” you take the drinks from him as he chuckles.

walking back to the booth, you balance the tray on one hand whilst the other opens the glass door. you place the drinks down in front of the two men, giving them sultry looks as you do.

you were going home with benjamin franklin tonight. you were determined.

as you stand back up and move closer to joel’s seat, you could feel his eyes on you, and when you looked at him, he seemed to be hiding back a smirk, picking up on your games. and it works, as both men slip you a few hundred dollar bills that you tuck under the strap of your bra to stash away later.

“anything else i can get for you gentleman tonight?” when they respond with a ‘no’, you feel a light tap on your thigh. brown eyes meeting yours, he gestures for you to come closer, and you bend down so his mouth is next to your ear.

“little shit.” he whispers, and you chuckle, standing back up to your full height and leaving the booth.

the only time you return to joel’s booth is to take away cups and refill drinks. you don’t hear much of the conversation that happens because, quite frankly, you don’t care. the bald guy and the one with the skin fade keep slipping you bills and that’s enough to buy your silence and curiosity.

you return to some of the private rooms, getting drinks for guests and dancers, but during the final moments of your shift, you’re sat at the bar talking to javier. you learn that he’s been friends with joel since high school. they’re practically brothers, and although they weren’t related, they do look alike…

“shithead.” joel’s voice calls out, and you can only assume he’s referring to you due to the choice in nickname.

“that better be meant as an endearment or i will be snitching to my pops.” you say as you walk over, blowing javi a kiss as a means of goodbye. “he may be in his sixties but he can still put a crow bar to use.”

joel rolls his eyes and guides you back to the dancer’s room. you open the door halfway before he decides to speak: “wait around here for a bit and i’ll come get you. i’ll be taking you home so make sure you’ve got everything.”

you pout playfully. “well, aren’t you just a sweetheart.” and your words cause him to roll his eyes again.

“get in there, ya’ little shit.” and he gently pushes you in.

for the next two hours, you and the girls spend your time dancing to some 2000’s r&b. you and chelsea end up whining on each other, and you all collapse by the time ‘smack that’ has finished, giggling away among yourselves as adele is highly entertained by your energy.

a knock at the door sounds, and you can tell it’s joel. you grab the clothes you wore before your shift started, and when you open it, joel is stood there carrying your bag.

“ya’ got everything?”

“you sound like a divorced dad who has joint custody over his daughter. yes, i have everything.” joel sighs at your comment, rubbing the space between his eyebrows which causes you to giggle.

“bye guys!” you wave goodbye to everyone as you and joel leave the building. he unlocks his black porsche and you hop in the front, shivering slightly at how cold it was.

joel notices this, turning on the heated seats as he drives you home to your grandparents. when you’re outside your house, joel stops you from getting out. “i’ll text you your shifts. my number is strictly for work.”

“got it, text you whenever i want. bye joel!” you shout, running out of the car and unlocking your front door, heading straight to your bedroom so you can take off your make up and finally be comfortable.

you fail to notice how joel’s car doesn’t drive away until he sees you’ve entered the house, and that you safely got to your room when your bedroom light turns on. you don’t see how he smiled at your little comment, shaking his head as he drives away.

oh, you were trouble, alright.

____

a/n: reader tormenting joel and him just tolerating it is my ideal relationship

taglist (if you want to be added, pls let me know!! & if your name is in bold, i couldn’t find your account :()

@dugiioh @amyispxnk @skysmiller @alyhull @noisynightmarepoetry @elliaze @dendulinka6 @zliteraturehoe @atyourmerci @al33naaa @mermaidgirl30 @lulawantmula @nana90azevedo @endlessthxxghts @getitoutofmymind @you-taste-so-sweet @blazeflays @iveseenstrangerthings50 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @aquanatalie @katw474 @ludwigxii-blog @eloquentdreamer @kyloispunk @txmentor @din-jarring @daddysmilf0123 @sofiparallel @dunkinzjm @runningmom94 @ashhlsstuff @moel-jiller @isimpforfictionalmen @drewharrisonwriter @stormseyer @rodriguez31 @elliesswearjar @vvitchesh3x @joeldjarin @untamedheart81 @ellishamae25 @pedropascalfan221 @mellymbee @pedritosgfreal @yassspose @casa-boiardi

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller series #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller au #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel x reader #mob!joel #mob boss!joel

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choke-me-joey · 2 years ago

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Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, violence, smut.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 2

It had been 3 weeks since you had gone to your first Hellfire Club meeting, and 3 weeks since Eddie had fallen head over fucking heels for you.

He'd liked you before sure, a harmless crush, but now he knew you were into good music and his favourite fantasy game? Consider him a truly smitten kitten.

And now, when you turn up to school in a Hellfire shirt, ripped jeans and that fucking jacket, Eddie could have kissed you right then and there in Ms O'Donnell's class.

"Hey," you grin as you take your usual seat next to him, sliding him a brown paper bag over to him. "So it turns out that Mountain Dew, cigarettes and Cheetos aren't a substantial diet, so I accidentally on purpose made extra chicken salad today. Figured you'd need some more sustenance y'know, got a feeling tonight's session is going to be killer."

"Hey, I eat other stuff too."

"Twinkies and coffee also don't have fantastic nutritional value, Munson." You tease, rolling your eyes. "Ever heard of a vegetable? Y'know, the healthy green stuff?"

"Oh, I'm into the green stuff alright." Eddie grins, eluding to his precious stash. You give him an exasperated look. "I'm kidding. Thanks. And the uh, the shirt looks good."

"Thanks," you smile, tucking some hair behind your ear. Were you...blushing?? "So, um, I was wondering-"

"Miss Y/L/N, is there something that you need from Mr Munson right this very second?" Ms O'Donnell glares at the pair of you.

"I mean, I guess it could wait, 5, maybe 10 minutes?" You quip, making Eddie chuckle. The old bat doesn't seem to be in as bad a mood as usual today, so somehow you narrowly escape detention but earn yourself an extra 5 chapters on the reading for over the weekend.

Later on, when Eddie is diving in to the fucking delightful chicken salad, the Hellfire Club, minus you as unfortunately you had yet to be released from the grip of the cheerleading table, don't miss the unusually nutritious food their glorious leader is consuming.

"Jesus, Eddie, is that an actual sandwich you're eating?" Gareth teases, for which he gets a mini pretzel to the face.

"Is that what Y/N gave you in English this morning?" Jeff smirked and Eddie rolled his eyes. "It is! She's making food for you?! Damn, when's the wedding?"

Eddie shot him a warning glare and it was clear that this was not a topic to be joked about.

"Jesus." Jeff grumbled, shrinking back in his seat.

"I still can't believe we have a cheerleader in Hellfire," grinned the Henderson kid, clearly loving the events of the last 2 weeks a little too much. The heart eyes the little nerd made at you each week over the table during campaigns was almost laughable.

"She's not just a cheerleader, Henderson," Eddie mumbles through a mouthful of sandwich. Because you weren't. You were a pretty cool person, who liked kick ass music and liked fantasy games, but who could also get her leg above her head, not that Eddie had been thinking about that very much at all-

"Hey, Eddie! Hi guys!" Your voice snaps Eddie out of his rapidly approaching dangerous thoughts and he realises you're stood next to him, your perfume wafting over and Eddie kind of wants to just inhale you.

The rest of the table greets you and then go back to their conversations, mostly about band practice, AV club or possible new campaign ideas. Eddie turns to look at you, smiling.

"What's up?"

"So, I was trying to say before we got interrupted earlier, I was wondering if you're going to be going to Jason's party tonight?" You smile, a hopeful look on your face. Eddie raises his eyebrows.

"Uh, gee, my invite must have gotten lost in the mail," he grins. Like he was getting an invite to that douche fest. It would be the last place on earth he'd ever be caught-

You laugh. "Well, it's a good thing I'm inviting you verbally then, huh?"

"Wait, wait, wait. You want me to come?" Eddie's eyes were practically like saucers now. Was he definitely hearing this right?!

"Of course! I mean you don't have to if you don't want to, I just figured you'd probably get a few extra customers there and I don't wanna be stuck by myself all night. These things get kinda boring when you don't have someone to distract you from the god awful music." You shrug, adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

Goddamn you were too cute.

Eddie sighs. If he was going to suffer through this, at least he could make some extra cash.

And be with you.

"Fuck it, yeah, I'll come."

"Awesome! Pick me up at 7.30?" You hand him a scrap of paper with your address on it. He frowns at it.

"Pick you up? Like a-"

"Like a date, if you want?" Your tone was hopeful, eager, and the biggest shocker was that you were completely serious. You weren't joking. You were actually asking him out. Eddie cleared his throat.

"Shouldn't this, uh, be the other way around?" He gestured between you both, and you shrug.

"I got tired of waiting. So, are we on?"

"It's a date, sweetheart."

***

At 7.30 on the dot, Eddie is waiting outside your house in his van, anxiously checking his own breath again. He was pretty pleased with how he looked tonight, his usual ratty band shirts or Hellfire shirt replaced with simple black tshirt and jeans without holes in, a red plaid shirt and his trusty leather jacket. His hair wasn't too unruly either, which made a nice change, and he was freshly showered and shaved.

Wayne had caught him dabbing aftershave on in the tiny trailer bathroom, hissing at the sting, and thanked whoever was sat on their asses in the sky that his nephew had finally found a date that wasn't a six-pack and a large pizza.

You stepped out of your front door and Eddie just about passed away. You were wearing a simple, short and sleevless black dress, one that clung to you in all the right places, with a chunky belt around your middle. Your legs were bare right down to your Dr Martens. You looked...ethereal. Breath taking.

Your face lit up the moment you locked eyes with Eddie and you walked up to the driver's side window.

"Hey, handsome. We match." You grin, gesturing to your predominantly black outfits.

"That we do," Eddie chuckled, pretending his cheeks weren't warming at you calling him handsome. "Ready to go, cutie?"

Well, if you could call him names...

He definitely noticed your cheeks flushing at that.

The drive to the party was a relatively short one, you and Eddie discussing your favourite Black Sabbath tracks, and whether you think Ozzy really did bite the head off of that bat.

"Bats are so cute! It had to be fake, there's no way." You'd said, a little pout on your face as you talked about it.

"Oh it was real, the way it bled and shit?? There's no way that could be faked." Eddie chuckled. "So fucking metal."

"So fucking gross, what if he got rabies?!" You laugh, sticking your tongue out in disgust. "You know, this isn't good first date conversation."

"It isn't? Damn, I must be a little rusty from the non-existent dating life I have." Eddie smirked. "You have better conversations with uh, whats his name, Anderson??"

The way you frown at him makes Eddie think that maybe that was a bit of a low blow, past the playful bantering and bordering on a little mean.

"I never dated that asshole. And I never fucked him either." You growl. "He's such a prick, as if I'd ever touch him or his warty dick."

Eddie bursts out laughing. "Warty dick?!"

You can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. "He got genital warts from hooking up with some girl from out of state one time. Didn't use a rubber so I guess that's what you get. Plus he's a massive asshole, so he deserves it."

Eddie nods in agreement.

"You know him and his massive asshole buddies are going to be there tonight, right?" He says, leaning forward to check the traffic at the junction he'd pulled up to. You sigh.

"I know, again, that's why I invited you. So I have someone to talk to other than Chrissy or Tammy or Ashley about their upcoming dates or our next competition. I just wanna relax and have fun with a cute guy who wants to actually get to know me, not my pussy."

"You think I'm cute?" Eddie slyly grins and you roll your eyes playfully.

"Don't let it go to your head, Munson."

"Which one?" He jokes and you smack him lightly, laughing hard.

***

A few hours later, you're already a few drinks in, blissfully tipsy. Eddie has had maybe one or two piss weak beers, wanting to stay relatively sober to drive you home and to stay on top of his selling game. Although he'd already made bank within the first hour of the party, so now his main concern was you.

Eddie didn't really know what to do with himself; 99% of the people here hated him and avoided him like the plague. So he was happy just to sit on one of the chairs outside with you as you both smoked, happily chatting and getting to know each other better.

He'd not missed how you'd scooted your chair closer to him, or how occasionally your hand would rest on his arm. You'd not missed how he'd lean into you, or brush his hand over your knee or thigh when he was reaching for something.

Your brain swirled in the best way when Eddie took your hand and helped you up so you could both go and get another drink from the kitchen. He went to pull away after you were on your feet, but you linked your fingers through his and led him inside, pushing through the crowd to reach the drinks.

"I gotta piss," Eddie shouted over the thumping music, giving your hand a squeeze to wordlessly let you know he'd be back. You nodded, grabbing another cup and looking around for the bottle you had been nursing the entire night.

"Wow, Y/N, you fucking the freak now? Made your way through the football, basketball and baseball teams and needed a new challenge?" Anderson's ribbing voice floats over the loud music and you bristle, but ignore him. "Aw, what's wrong baby? Did I touch a nerve?"

"Fuck you Anderson. Take your micro dick and go bother someone else." You snap, finishing mixing your drink and attempting to leave the kitchen. Anderson scoffs, trapping you against the counter with his hefty quarterback frame, his alcohol soaked breath fanning over you making you want to gag.

"You look sexy tonight, Y/N, s'like you're begging to be fucked. You know that freak Munson couldn't do half the shit I could do to you," Anderson slurs and you shudder in disgust.

"What's that? Last 20 seconds and pretend like you rocked my world? I told you once and I'll tell you again, I wouldn't fuck you if you were the last creature on earth, Anderson. Fuck. Off." You growl, pushing against him but he doesn't move. He smirks, shoving his hand up your skirt. Your reflexes kick in and you drive your knee up, straight into his crotch as hard as you can. When he staggers backwards clutching his groin, you punch him square between the eyes and hear the sickening sound of bones crunching. The pain that shoots through your hand is quickly dulled by adrenaline as Anderson stumbles backwards onto the floor, blood pouring from his nose. The entire party is silent, save for the music which is still playing.

Eddie pushes his way into the kitchen after returning from the bathroom, and his mouth falls open at the scene in front of him. You, panting with fury, skirt pushed up pretty much to your crotch, fist covered in blood, and Anderson crumpled on the floor, blood pissing out of his nose and groaning in pain. Two of the other football players pick him up, staring at you in shock.

"She's a fucking psycho!" Anderson yells, his voice thick with blood. "See what happens when she starts hanging around with that fucking freak?!"

Eddie blinks and you let out a scream of rage, diving for Anderson again. Eddie is quick to grab you, restraining your arms behind your back as you struggle to get at Anderson.

"Hey, hey, hey, easy, alright? It's not worth it," Eddie says, soothing and low in your ear. "Come on, let's go."

"If you ever touch me again, Anderson, I'll cut your dick off!" You growl, still struggling against Eddie's grip as he practically picks you up and carries you out of the house towards his van.

"Eddie, that motherfucker, he-"

"I know, sweetheart. I know." Again with the soothing tone. Eddie pretty much carries you to his van and puts you in the passenger seat, buckling you in. He notices your slight shiver and takes off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders.

Eddie gets in and starts to drive.

"Your hand okay?" He asks gently, and you nod. He sneaks a glance at it, already bruised and covered in blood. "Y/N."

"It hurts," you sniff, your tough exterior cracking. "Fucker has a hard face."

Eddie laughs and you shoot him a look. "Sorry, I'm not laughing at you, just wish I'd have been there to see you throw the punch."

"And the knee to the balls," you smirk, and Eddie winces slightly, knowing how bad it must have hurt.

"Jesus, Y/N. What did he do?" Although Eddie had a sneaking suspicion judging by the way your skirt had been pushed up practically around your waist when he came back from the bathroom.

"Aside from trying to shove his hands into my underwear, tried to tell me he could..." you trail off, not wanting to say it for fear of scaring Eddie off, or weirding him out.

"He could...?" Eddie probed. You sighed, looking out of the window as you spoke.

"Pretty much that he could fuck me better than you ever could." You said quickly, your cheeks once again flushing scarlet. Eddie went silent, swallowing hard. "He's just an asshole, I don't care what he says about me, but when he brought you into it, I-"

"Had to defend my honour?" Smirking, Eddie looks at you. "Listen, sweetheart, I'm glad you beat the shit out of him, he's a fucking bitch and deserved it but you didn't have to do it for me."

"I know." You answer and the conversation falls into a comfortable silence for a few moments.

"And I could definitely fuck you better than he ever could." Eddie states, making you burst out laughing.

"Renember earlier how I said dont let it go to your head? That's the kind of shit I meant. No more compliments for you, mister."

Taglist: @big-ope-vibes

@50shadesofuncomfortable

@bibieddiesgf

@josephquinngirly

@mich-13

@wintersoldierbaby

@gracieluvthemoon

@lilmisssimp

@cutiecusp

@lovelylittlemetalhead

@angelina16torres-blog

@ceriseheaven

@icallhimjoey

@harrys-four-nipples

@chaoticgood-munson

@quinnypixie

@joesquinns

@quinnsbower

@ghostinthebackofyourhead

@joejoequinnquinn

@ches-86

@mystars123

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie smut #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fluff #eddie munson fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction

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the-froschamethyst4 · 11 months ago

Text

My wife’s the boss

��Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, mentions of smut, language, married couple, mentions of children, drinking, mentions of smoking, jealous, flirting, pregnancy,

𖤐Summary: The Team likes to tease their Captain John Price on how whipped he is for his wife

————

"Do you guys think Y/n wears the pants in hers and Price's marriage?" Soap asked as they all looked at Price outside the bar cigar in between his finger and he was talking on the phone to whom?

His wife.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Ghost asked.

"Well, he doesn't seem like he's arguing with her...he seems calm-oh smirking, he's smirking, he's flirting with her," Gaz says, the guys all looked at Gaz on who the hell he knows that. "What? I took some body language classes in college, leave me alone," he says, sipping from his glass.

"I wonder what he's saying to flirt with her?" Soap said.

"You guys are so fucking nosy it's embarrassing," Kate says as she came back from the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, wanna bet?"

"With you? No fucking chance," she says, sipping from her glass.

"Oh shut up, he's coming back."

"No one was talking about him," Ghost says as Price opened the door to the bar placing his phone in his pocket and paying for his tap.

"Gotta head out."

"What why?"

"The missus wants me home," he says as he thanked the bartender.

"What?" Soap groans.

"We just started having fun, Captain."

"Have fun without me, my wife needs me right now," Price says as he called for a cab and went home.

-----

Y/n sat on the nice white couch watching TV a bag of Cheetos between her thighs, a glass of apple juice on the coffee table in front of her, and a bowl of popcorn on her right side.

She was craving every single one of these.

She was also watching a sad romcom.

"I love you...always and forever-" the TV says.

"LIAR!!" She throws popcorn at the TV.

"My love?" She heard Price come in from the front door.

"Oh hi, baby," she said, looking over the couch. She rubs her big belly and looked back at her TV. "What a cheat."

"Huh?" Price sat next to her, he knows not to touch her snacks, so he got his own snacks.

"Oh this prick, he cheated on his wife and claims to love her," Y/n says.

"Haven't you watched this before?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, don't you know that already?" She just shrugs at him.

"I like this movie," she says, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

"I know, my love," he says, rubbing her belly and placing his head on her stomach, the baby was moving around.

"He's been kicking so much," she says.

"I bet...hey now...stop hurting your mama, she needs to rest, she can't if you keep kicking her in the ribs," Price says. She giggles at him.

"He doesn't listen."

"Yeah, well that just shows he's my son."

"Oh I know that, you are stubborn as a mule," she giggles.

-------

Price held Y/n stomach as she placing dirty clothes in the washing machine. Price was also just naming off some names for the little baby.

"Tony."

"Tony? No," she says.

"Liam."

"Maybe."

"Ian."

"Hm~"

"Well, what do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking...Hudson or Beau."

"I like Beau...Beau Hudson Price," John says.

"I love it," Y/n says, turning and kissing his jawline. Y/n smiled as Price had picked up her belly from behind. She lets out a soft moan as the heavy weight was lifted off from her front.

"Thank you, I need that."

"Anything, for the woman carrying my baby," he says as he then gently brought the weight back on.

She lets out a soft groan.

-------

Price was off to work putting on his favorite bucket hat and making sure he has all of his gear before heading out. He looks at the master bed and saw how peaceful Y/n looked while she was sleeping.

She just have the covers on her body, unfortunately none of her usual pajama fit her so she resorted into wearing either his clothes or half naked.

"Price," she rolls over not feeling him next to her, John stopped and rushed to her side.

"Hey, I'm here, is everything okay?" He says, cupping her face and brushing a piece of her hair from her face.

"Yes, I'm fine," she sits up and the blanket just falls off her shoulder exposing her black bra and he can barely see the matching black panties. "I was just seeing if you were gone."

"Not yet, my love," Price says, kissing her lips. "You look so sexy," he says, kissing her neck and then her chest.

"Price, you need to get going for work."

"It's okay," he says kissing her neck again. "God, if you weren't pregnant I'd take you right here and right now."

"Then why not?"

"Because I don't want to tire yourself out," he says. "I'm off, okay."

"Okay, be safe," he kissed her lips.

-------

As Price left Y/n waddled back to her bathroom, her little baby has been sitting on her bladder all day long. She's been to the bathroom around 13 different times since Price had left.

She at the this point just sits in the bathroom on the edge of the tub just waiting for it to happen.

"Come on, baby, I have things I need to get done around the house. I need to get your nursery ready, can I work?" She asked, rubbing her big belly. She slowly stood up and she didn't feel anything. "Thank you, baby," she mumbles.

Y/n had ordered somethings online without Price's acknowledge and had came in a few weeks ago, she had to hide them so she could be able to put them up.

She likes Price's help and all but sometimes, she wants to do everything for once.

She had order pictures online of cute wild animals, Price and Y/n had gone with a gender neutral themed nursery for the baby, even way before knowing the baby was a boy.

Now that they decided on the name Beau, Y/n was ordering some letters to hang up over Beau's crib.

She grabs a small step ladder and started to hang up the pictures, making sure they're even and straight. She steps off and looks at the photos.

"Perfect," she says.

As she takes her photo off the baby's changing table to take a photo and send it to Price.

My Love: Look what I did

Price: I wish you waited till I got home to help

My Love: It's okay, I got it under control, I also ordered some letters to put above his crib, you can help with that

Price: Okay, I hope you were careful

My Love: I was

"Price you want to come and start training the rookies?" Ghost called.

"I'm coming, just had to see what my love sent me," he says, placing his phone back into his pocket.

"Here we go, whipped Price with his wife."

"Yeah, I love my wife, she's my everything and she is my pride and joy, AND she's carrying my child, of course I'm going to be 'whipped' for her. You'd be too if someone was carrying your child," Price says as Soap, Ghost and Price all stood in front of the new recruits.

Price crossed his arms over his chest as he listened to Ghost yell at the recruits and Soap clapped his hands to get the recruits to move faster through the course.

Price felt his phone buzz and he looks down seeing that Y/n had sent him a new message. He opened it and saw it was her in front of her full body mirror in his old dark green Military shirt with Task Force 141's logo on the front.

Her big belly in view and her hand just under her belly. She wasn't wearing any shorts.

Price: How do you always look so good?

My Love: Because I am 8 months pregnant and I have that pregnancy glow

Price: Yeah, that's true *I do want to kiss your body*

My Love: Maybe when I'm not pregnant, I'm too sensitive

"PRICE!" Ghost yells, Price lifted his head from his phone and looked at Ghost and Soap.

--------

Y/n was back on the couch sliced apples on a plate in her hands, orange juice sitting on the coffee table, and a peanut butter jar sitting on the little table next to the couch.

"God I feel fat-"

"Don't say that, my love."

"Price, you're home too early."

"I know, I wanted to come home early and spend time with you." He drops his gear at the door and placed his bucket hat on the coat rack by the front door.

Y/n placed the plate on the coffee table. She stood up and walked to him. His hands went around her waist and kissed her lips.

"You taste like peanut butter," he chuckles and then down to her belly.

"I was eating apples and peanut butter," she says with a smile.

"Was it good?"

"Yep, the apples were juicy and so sweet," she says.

Price bent down on his knees and kissed her belly. "I can't wait for him to finally be here."

"I can't wait till he stops sitting on my bladder," she says.

"Bet that was fun?"

"I hated every minute of it but I love my baby," she says, her hands went to Price's hair.

-------

After some time, Y/n was sitting in a bubble bath, Price was sitting behind her washing her body or caressing her stomach.

"You do look so fucking gorgeous," he mumbles in her neck, gently kissing her neck. "You wanna know what Ghost and Soap told me today?"

"What?" She asked, leaning back into his touch.

"When we were training the new recruits and when you showed me the photo of you in the full body mirror, they had asked if they wanted to go for drinks afterwards. I told them no because I wanted to get back home to you and spend my time with you. They said that you must be my boss or something because of me always wanting to come home to you, and I was like damn straight," He chuckles. "My wife is the boss and that's why I love her," he kissed her neck.

"Price, you should at least hang out with them at some point."

"I always hung out with them before you got pregnant, I want to spend my time with you before Beau's born," he says, kissing her neck. "And my time will be towards you and Beau, I'll only be able to hang out with the guys every now and then."

Y/n and Price had gotten out of the bath, he wraps her body in a towel and she walks out of the bathroom to Price's closet.

"I like you better when you sleep naked," he smirks. His hands went to her waist and pulling her back against his hard chest. His hands started to unwrap her towel from her chest and letting it fall on the ground.

"As long as you join me?"

"You know, I will," he says, dropping his towel.

--------

A Month Later

Y/n was having a hard time getting out of bed without almost falling because of how weak she felt. Price stayed home ever since she said she could barely move.

Price was by her side taking one step at a time, the doctor had told them both to keep moving around to make sure the baby be ready in time and so Y/n won't be in so much pain.

"W-Wait, hang on," she stops and leans on the back of the couch trying to catch her breath. Price's hand went to her back.

"Deep breaths, my love," Price says, rubbing her back, her eyes closed like she was in more pain than before.

"My knees hurt, my legs hurt, my whole body hurts, this moving around...doesn't feel like it's working," she cries.

"Aww my love, it's okay," he says.

"Price, I just want to go to the hospital already."

"We can, I'll get everything ready you just relax on the couch okay?"

"Okay."

Price was getting the hospital bag ready and getting some fresh new clothes for the both of them, and maybe some baby clothes.

“Price.”

“Hold on, my love, where are the-oh found them.”

“Price.”

“Okay, and that’s all, yes my love?”

“My water broke.”

“What?”

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x y/n #price x you #price x reader #cod price #captain john price #john price #captain price #price

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buzzcutlip · 5 months ago

Text

Cracks and Gaps - The Worst Day (part I) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 7434 words ao3

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother's restaurant. As an editor, you can't miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy.

A/N: I've started writing this story a looong time ago last year. There will be two more parts. I would like to thank @carmyboobear for being the most incredible beta and helping me out on the rocky journey. They're a very special person to me, and also a fantastic and inspiring writer themselves. Please, check their Carmy stories if you haven't!

THE WORST DAY

The first time you meet Carmen, you are both a little over twenty and in Copenhagen. He is staging at Noma, and you are interning at a design studio where everyone is very “green.” From one of your conversations with Carmen, you learn that Pop-Tarts and Cheetos are illegal here. In Europe. Most of the sodas that stained your tongue crazy colors when you were a kid are banned too. He lectures you on Scandinavian agriculture and food production.

Carmen is skinny and short—still a bit taller than you, though—with sharp, high cheekbones and bulging eyes. You don't know enough about each other to be “friends,” but he is a good companion. Your high school friend Becky knows Carmen’s older sister; that’s how you found each other in Denmark’s capital.

On two rare occasions, you get drunk together, and that happens only when he is stressed from work. Like, stressed STRESSED. You'd think he only drinks special natural wine from Lofoten or something, but his choice of poison is canned Budweiser. Maybe he misses home as much as you do. Maybe that’s what leads you to almost kiss him the second time. Carmen lives on a boat, and he takes you there, where you drink vodka mixed with herbs and licorice that Carmen concocts, his tongue peeking out between his lips as he concentrates. The drink tastes good. Weird. You don't hide your grimace. Neither of you comments on the alcohol ratio. It's more vodka than anything else, that's for sure.

Carmen is not your type, physically or character-wise—you are an introvert yourself, so you need someone to bring you out of your shell. Obviously, doing an internship on a different continent is a huge step, one that is only on you. He also smokes a lot and probably doesn't wash his hair. You've heard about his crazy mother and bonkers family from Becky, so you understand why Carmen is Carmen. Why he’s run off to Europe. It's just—his face—his eyes, when he's telling you about his dream job at Noma or Alchemist—they glow, and he becomes so animated, the quiet excitement seeping to the surface, and there's fondness blooming in your chest. He also knows a thing or two about sports, as you do, the subject bringing you back to Chicago, and the longing for “home” and “familiar” is terribly strong in the moment, enhanced by the alcohol. And Carmen, the boy sitting opposite you, with burns on his hands and ripped jeans, is both of those things put into one.

Nothing happens between you two, but the urge to press your own lips against his lingers after you leave in a taxi, not brave enough to ride a bike under the influence.

You try to stay in touch after Copenhagen, messaging Carmen on his empty Facebook profile, sending a text once in a while, mainly at Christmas, and when you have some terrible junk food, just to make fun of him. When he FaceTimes you, he’s in Paris, and you’re in Dublin. The next time, he’s in California.

He rarely ever answers messages on the phone. Usually, it's an emoji, sometimes a word or two. Soon, there are no answers, and you can't be bothered. You carry on with your life in Chicago, and it doesn’t take long before you start seeing Carmen Berzatto in the paper, on the internet. The young prodigy chef, everyone says. Reluctantly, you read the articles, thinking about the Copenhagen Carmen, smiling at his photos. He's grown up, filled out. His hair is curlier, his shoulders wider, his biceps stronger. He looks good. Good and sad, you think to yourself, and decide not to text him to congratulate him on his star career. Carmen is not one to care about what you think of it.

It's only when you hear from Becky that Mikey Berzatto has died, that you think of Carmen properly, after years full of work in the magazine office, one shitty almost-boyfriend, and summers spent in Europe, writing about sustainable travel and solo adventures. Becky says that he's inherited a restaurant from Michael. You decide against sending him condolences—too personal.

But about ten months later, there's whispering that a fancy restaurant, The Bear, is replacing The Beef of Chicagoland, and it's actually your boss who tells you that you should go check the place out.

You are not into that whole haute cuisine thing, to be honest. You never understood those tiny little portions and strange ingredients and their combinations. You prefer good pasta with Bolognese sauce or roasted chicken with mashed potatoes. Sometimes you wonder if Carmen's strange relationship with his family is what's keeping him away from his Italian roots and forcing him to work in pristine, starched whites in sterile kitchens, cooking intestines and antlers, making it art.

---

Becky gives you Natalie Berzatto’s phone number to get in touch with her to try to schedule an interview for the magazine feature. Your boss, Rob, hopes that Carmen could even make it to the cover soon when The Bear takes off. You’re not sure how you feel about bypassing Carmen completely and going straight to his sister.

So one Thursday, in early May, you decide to walk there, unannounced. You corner the building, passing a big glass window, and before you make it to the main entrance, you nearly collide with a very wonky wooden stepladder. With Carmen Berzatto on top of it, fiddling with a screwdriver or a similar tool, and a signboard.

The second you make contact with the ancient stepladder, Carmen shouts, "Fuck!"

“Sorry,” you yelp, and one glance at the man high up confirms that you are indeed dealing with the Chef himself.

“Could you watch out?” he says angrily as he makes his way down, measuring every step carefully.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, waiting anxiously for Carmen to—hopefully—recognize you. To anyone walking by, you must look like an idiot, standing still in the middle of the sidewalk, waiting motionless and stiff for a guy to climb down a ladder.

You don’t know what you had been expecting but definitely not Carmen staring at you with his huge, bloodshot eyes for seconds that feel like minutes. You nearly turn around and walk away, no joke.

He looks—

“You look—” you start. Terrible. But also, like, gorgeous. Terribly tired but hot. Is it awful of you to think that?

“Hi,” Carmen says, one hand going into the big mess of his hair, the other one into his pants pocket. He's avoiding your eyes, which makes you even more nervous, makes you think it was not such a great idea to come here.

“Hi!” you say, probably overly enthusiastically. “You're back in Chicago,” is the first thing you can think of.

He nods. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Well, congrats on the new place,” you say, gesturing to the building behind him, newspaper covering the windows. “I'm really sorry, I thought it was already open,” you explain, tugging on the hem of your lilac sweatshirt nervously. Can he tell you’re lying? “Becky mentioned something about it.”

“No, we’re opening next week,” Carmen says, holding a cigarette between his fingers.

“I'm really curious,” you smile carefully, testing the waters, wondering how he's going to react. You haven't seen each other in more than five years, and Carmen's never been exactly friendly. Not like mean, but definitely not easily approachable. “I work for this magazine, and we would love to do a feature on this,” you say, leaving out that it's you who would be writing it. Who wants to write it. Not only about the place but about Carmen, the enigma, the quiet boy, the excellent chef.

He only nods, clearly not sharing your enthusiasm. “Maybe later,” he taps the cigarette against the palm of his other hand. “When we're ready for this kind of thing.”

“Of course,” you agree quickly.

“Might be a while.”

“So what is the big plan?”

Carmen looks at you, measuring you. Like he thinks you have some ulterior motive. He lights up the cigarette, taking a long drag from it, and you fight not to scrunch your nose in disgust. The older you get, the more you hate the smell. Especially when someone is blowing out the smoke aimlessly—almost—in your face.

“My partner—Sydney, she’s hung up on the stars. So I guess a fine dining kinda place,” Carmen says, flicking the cigarette butt in the general direction of the gutter. The second sentence comes out more like a question than a statement, but you are still processing the first one.

“You run a business with your girlfriend?” you swear you don’t mean it to sound so accusing.

Carmen takes a step back, physically—bumping into the stepladder behind him—and mentally, too. “No! She—Sydney’s my business partner.” The defensive tone tells you exactly how your words sounded though. You wince. “We’ve been working on the new concept together with Nat, and the whole crew, actually. It’s—it’s a family business, I guess—uhm. We had only like three months to finish, and—”

You can see he’s really flustered. He’s starting to stutter, hand nervously scratching his neck. You hate the sight, hate that you’ve made him feel like this.

“I’m sorry!” you interrupt him. “It came out all wrong. I shouldn’t have said that,” you say urgently, hoping to see him relax back to his non-caring, nonchalant, tired-looking self. How could you mess up so quickly? Is that your special ability or a curse?

“‘s fine,” Carmen says, and he does relax a bit, shoulders dropping an inch. He doesn’t look friendly though. Or in the mood for a chat. “I just—she’s a business partner,” he repeats obstinately, face red.

The moment grows awkward. In your coat pocket, you touch a pack of chewing gum and start fiddling with it. “I—my office is nearby so I thought I could come around and see the progress,” you say into the void, trying not to cringe too much. “Maybe I would take a few colleagues for dinner.”

“The reservations aren't open yet,” Carmen says in a flat voice. You can’t call him out because it’s probably true anyway. Plus, you just lied again—the offices are not close; you had taken the L—and you feel bad about it.

There’s not much left to say, you realize. He’s not giving you any space to turn this “accidental” meeting into a proper conversation. You shuffle your feet nervously, feeling stupid.

“Alright. It was nice seeing you!” you say, as it’s about time to end this. “Hope everything’s gonna work out great!” you add in a cheerful tone, already setting to walk back to the station.

“Yeah. Thanks. Bye.” Carmen says back, lighting a second cigarette.

What a nightmare, you think as you walk through the busy streets.

—

In the following weeks, you almost forget about The Bear. Rob complains about the nonexistent article on the new, already hyped-up restaurant and wasted opportunities, but what can you do? The not-at-all-accidental meeting with Carmen had been a disaster you actively try to erase from your mind. Working on your regular column and material for the website keeps you busy. Then Becky calls out of nowhere, and you two arrange lunch at The Marq. You end up swapping hilarious stories from the last two months you hadn’t seen each other, and you secretly pray she doesn’t ask about Natalie Berzatto or her brother. You're out of luck, because she does—of course she does—and you have to lay the cards on the table.

“You did contact Nat first though?” is the first thing Becky asks.

“I didn’t,” you shake your head. “I didn’t want to exclude Carmen right at the very beginning,” you admit.

“Oh god,” Becky rolls her eyes at you, taking a small bite of her salmon cake sandwich.

“I knooow,” you quickly stop her, feeling like ordering something stronger than the simple soda you’ve been drinking.

“I think you should still call Natalie,” Becky says, pointing at you with a determined frown. “I went to see her and her new baby just last week. She asked about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Apparently they could really use some help getting the word out about The Bear. A good excuse to talk Carmen into an interview maybe? An exclusive one?” She wiggles her eyebrows, knowing how cool it would be for you to come up with this.

“Maybe,” you muse, playing it cool. Inside, you are already hyped up about the possibility of scoring the first interview with the former best chef in the world. Is he still good at all? Why did he disappear? Why is he back?

—

The anxiety of the following days forces you to actually text Natalie. You’ve been checking online websites and Instagram accounts apprehensively, worried that a medium might publish something about The Bear before you get a chance. Rob isn’t a dick, but you wouldn’t want to look incompetent in his eyes. So far, you’ve been able to steer away from conversations about the new Carmen Berzatto restaurant at work. Your work ethic makes it difficult for you to let The Bear go without a fight.

That’s how you find yourself in front of Natalie’s door. When she opens it, she doesn’t hide her fervor.

“Oh, finally! Hi! Please come in.” She ushers you inside. You’ve never seen her in person, only on Becky’s Instagram, maybe, and even though the exhaustion is apparent on the woman’s face, you can spot the similarities with Carmen in her features right away.

From the dark hallway, she leads you to the sitting room. When you look around, it’s hard to find a clutter-free space. Every surface is covered with baby clothes, baby diapers, baby wipes—clean and dirty—bottles—full and empty.

“Sorry for the mess,” Natalie appears next to you, snatching away a baby muslin from the sofa. “Have a seat, please,” she nods. “The baby’s asleep. Hopefully for the next—” and she checks her watch, “another twenty minutes.”

As you sit down, Natalie collapses into an armchair, not minding what appears to be a pile of freshly washed newborn onesies and other clothes underneath her.

“Thank you so much for stopping by,” she says sincerely, and you notice the many stains on her purple t-shirt.

You smile. “No problem.”

“Becky said that you know stuff about Instagram and social media and marketing and all that?” Natalie’s eyes are wide and hopeful.

“I would say so,” you nod.

“I’m not sure what Becky mentioned already,” Natalie says as she starts pulling the baby clothes from under her and folding them absentmindedly. That definitely says something about the state she’s in, without Becky describing the situation to you—not only with The Bear but also Nat herself. “Carmy’s putting so much into the restaurant—we all are—so much hope,” she babbles, “none of us have slept properly in weeks—months! And now the baby...” Natalie’s gaze becomes unfocused for a moment before she blinks rapidly. “The timing’s not so great,” she forces out a weak laugh, and you smile again, already feeling bad for her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“I understand. It’s hard,” you empathize, feeling genuinely bad—not for The Bear—but for Natalie.

“I’m not a marketing guru, but I can research things,” she carries on, more confident now. “But I can’t be there all the time, y’know? It’s just not possible. If—if someone could help with keeping the place afloat and spreading the word—” she stops talking and folding, looking directly at you. “That would be just so awesome,” she finishes quietly, her bottom lip wobbling.

You know that Nat’s not trying to emotionally blackmail you, even though the situation kinda feels like it, and you do feel for her.

“I can help, yes.”

“I’ll talk to Carm and Sydney, and we’ll figure out how much we can offer you!” The relief and excitement are apparent in the way Nat jumps up from the armchair.

“That’s alright, really,” you say calmly, putting a hand on her arm now that she’s closer. “We can discuss this later,” and you give her another encouraging smile.

The unmistakable sound of a baby crying comes from somewhere in the house. Poor Natalie freezes, her hand going to touch her chest. She takes a deep, steadying breath.

“Thank you. Thank you,” and she takes a hold of your hand, squeezing it. “I’ll tell Sydney to get in touch with you—or you can actually just go to the restaurant; they know about you.”

That makes you slightly uncertain as you remember your first attempt at an unannounced visit to The Bear.

“Alright,” you nod with a polite smile. After all, you’re getting something out of this too.

—

Sydney texts you exactly 22 minutes after you leave worn-out Natalie and her baby behind and invites you to come to The Bear the next day. To make yourself appear more untouchable, you reply that the soonest you’re available is next Monday. Make them wait.

It gets you on edge, though, and more than once you think of Carmen in his tiny Copenhagen kitchen, how things used to be. How easy it is to grow apart. Not that you’d been friends exactly. Hard to be anything like that with a person as closed off as Carmen Berzatto.

On the agreed Monday, you dare to finish early at work and take the train to The Bear. Your stomach is in knots, even though you’ve been pretty brave about the whole thing. It’s just—you’re not sure how Carmen’s gonna react when he sees you, and you’re already thinking about the worst possible scenarios. Just stop! you tell yourself resolutely, forcing yourself to concentrate on the simple but well-thought-out marketing plan you prepared to present. Without being asked. If Carmen sees that you actually KNOW things, he might change his opinion about you. Not that you KNOW his opinion, but—maybe he would actually acknowledge you finally.

It’s just after the family meal when you arrive. A tall man who introduces himself as Richie lets you in instantly, and he’s clearly been informed about your arrivall. As soon as Sydney is notified of your presence, she rushes to you from the kitchen in the back, wiping her hands on her apron. You notice right away that she’s friendly and calm, and it relaxes your nerves. There’s no doubt she loves the restaurant and her job, and you see that she worries as much as Natalie does, or even more.

“We’re opening in two hours, so it’s a bit wild in the back, but maybe you wanna see the kitchen?” Sydney offers as she’s showing you around the newly restored restaurant, opening the heavy door. “A quick peek,” she adds as a loud cracking noise comes out of the exact door.

You’ve been to a couple of kitchens, and you must say that this one’s definitely on the chaotic side of the scale. People in white aprons run here and there, no one’s still, not even for a second. There’s a good amount of shouting and a huge amount of swearing. In the middle of everything, there’s Chef Carmen Berzatto. He looks like a character from Cartoon Network. His wild hair is sticking out in all directions, dark tattoos covering his arms and hands, face sweaty, eyes ready to pop out of his head. He’s shorter than most people you see circling the kitchen, but the loudest one. He shouts orders, and you notice the vein on the side of his neck—it sure is ready to burst. You wonder how far he is from having a heart attack.

“Or maybe next time,” Sydney mutters, gently pushing you out of the way and shutting the door again. She leads you to one of the brown wooden tables where you settle again.

“Is he always like that?” you ask Sydney, actually glad that you’re not in the room where the storm’s currently happening.

“Only when he’s stressed,” Sydney explains shortly, an apologetic smile on her lips.

When it comes to money, it’s obvious The Bear doesn’t have much to spare, that much is clear. Sydney is extremely apologetic and sweet about it.

“There’s a marketing budget—previously non-existent—that we’ve set aside and can offer. It’s just not much, I’m afraid,” she tells you, jittery.

You want to reassure her, to tell her that you're doing it for Carmen, for an old "friend." But from what you've gathered, Sydney doesn't even know that Carmen knows you.

So you just smile and reassure her anyway. "I'll put it on my resume. I can use more cases with social media for hospitality," you lie.

Nodding, Sydney clarifies, "Yes, just Instagram. Please. Carmy doesn't want to put anything in the press. Yet."

When a curious Richie joins you at the table, you present the Instagram plan to both of them. Even though Richie can't help making a few rather stupid remarks that only he finds funny, they both listen carefully. You see a lot of skepticism on Richie's face, probably because he doesn't understand some of the big words, you guess, but Sydney seems to be really into everything from pictures of the food and the weekly specials, to quick reels showing potential customers a little bit of behind-the-scenes action.

"Oh, I'm sure Cousin will be thrilled to have people sticking their noses into his business," Richie says, and you're not sure how serious he is. But Sydney shushes him, and you carry on, showing her the mock-up of the possible Instagram feed to set the mood for the profile.

For the next three weeks, you go to The Bear twice a week to gather some content—photos and videos. You talk to the crew and film those who are okay with it. Your presence is met with mixed emotions, but Sydney's gratitude and kindness make up for every suspicious glare and exasperated sigh when you find yourself in someone's way. Besides the restaurant, you take your neighbor's dog for a long walk every Saturday morning, call your mom and dad to check in, scroll Instagram instead of finally starting an actual book, and often wonder why Carmen is so hostile towards you.

Generally, you try not to hang out in the kitchen directly, especially not when Chef Carmen is present. Being uncomfortable in a new environment makes you positively anxious, causing you to go through a whole pack of your favorite cinnamon Simply Gums a day.

You also remember to always tie your hair up—not that the staff there wear hairnets or anything, but you don't want Carmen to find another reason to frown at you. He's been basically only frowning or ignoring you. Hard to tell which one is worse.

You always clean your hands super thoroughly, like during COVID, singing the "Happy Birthday" song to time it before daring to even stick your finger in the restaurant. Sydney offers you an apron to protect your work clothes, which you refuse. You sense from some people there that you're not entirely welcome.

But the more you avoid Carmen, the more likely you are to bump into him. You know Murphy's Law. So one morning, he just appears from around the corner, carrying a tray of mushrooms.

For a second, you're actually horrified that he's going to introduce himself. Before that can happen, you blurt out, "Uh—do you remember me? Copenhagen?"

Carmen stops and looks at you, wiping his wet hands on the towel attached to the string of his white apron. "Yeah," he confirms, "yeah, I do." He says your name, all soft and correct, along with your surname, and with his eyes fixed on you, you're frozen to the spot, affected whether you like it or not. Then he leaves to taste Tina's roasted peppers.

Obviously, your mind can't let the episode slip away. As you type copy for the upcoming Instagram posts, you pause every so often to cringe at how embarrassing you behaved. Of course, he remembers you, for fuck's sake! You're working in his restaurant—kinda.

"Hey! Copenhagen! You wanna see this?" Carmen yells a bit later from the other side of the kitchen, and you falter, deciding whether you're really going to answer to him calling you that.

You bite your tongue and trail hesitantly to the station where Carmen is with Tina and Ebraheim, gathered around a saucepan.

"Tina, chef, this is excellent. Well done," Carmen says to her as you approach, then turns to you.

"This is what we wanna share with the world. Perfect red pepper sauce. Simple but delicious."

"Okay," you respond, taking in the expectant way all three of them are looking at you. Like you're some kind of magician. Or a fraud.

"Just," Carmen adds before he sets off, "no recipes leave this kitchen," and he waits for you to confirm.

"Right."

Slowly, you start to question why you're helping The Bear. Is it because two years ago you thought of Carmen and what you might have felt for him? What could have been? More than the chef himself, you find yourself growing fond of the place and the employees—some of them! Seeing the Instagram followers number increase fills you with pride and satisfaction. Fuck Carmen.

---

Mornings are usually the only time when Carmen isn’t around, and you try to time your visits so your paths don’t cross.

Wanting to snap photos of the new tableware and make a quick, fun video reel, you head into the kitchen. There's no one around—Sweeps is probably hiding somewhere, and Sydney might be in the office. Not wanting to bother anyone, you set your always-heavy handbag on a chair and start looking for everything you need. There's no reason for you to feel like you're sneaking around, but you can't help feeling nervous. That’s when your clumsiness strikes, and you manage to knock over a glass of water. Rolling your eyes, you get on your hands and knees to wipe the spilled water with a rug that you hope is meant for cleaning, as you’re very aware of every item having its particular function here.

You straighten up and stretch to get one more plate from the shelf. Then you lose your footing on the still-wet tiles. Your foot slips, and the top plate falls to the countertop with a loud cracking noise. You react quickly, trying to break the fall, but there's no use. The plate shatters to pieces.

Of course, it’s Carmen himself who emerges from the door leading to the office, and you wince—both physically and mentally—preparing yourself for a very unpleasant collision.

“What’s going on?” he asks as he approaches you, eyebrows pinched. He’s not wearing his chef whites, just a simple white t-shirt and dark jeans.

“Sorry, I—” you start apologizing as Carmen stands next to you, assessing the damage.

“What—what’re you doing here?” he asks in a very flat voice, staring at the pieces of ceramic.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to tidy this and also pay for the plate, obviously,” you ramble, reaching down for the shards.

“Don’t,” Carmy barks, stopping you by grabbing your shaking hands in his. His hands are big, the tattoos making them look harsh and crude, even though the touch is gentle. “Don’t cut yourself,” he adds quietly, holding you until you relax your arms and then a second longer.

He must sense your nervousness. “It’s fine, I’ll get it,” Carmen assures you, catching your eye. “Hey,” he lays a soft hand on your arm, “step away, I’ll clean this.”

Nodding, you step back and wait patiently, disconcerted, watching as Carmen carefully handles and discards the shards, then checks the floor for any tiny fragments. He turns back to you.

“Are you okay?” he checks.

“Yeah.” And you’re more thrown off balance by having Carmen pay attention to you, all of a sudden, than by damaging the kitchen’s equipment.

He studies you for a moment, his face unreadable, and you’re the one to look away first. Which you hate, by the way.

“You wanna see some stuff I’ve been working on?”

“Sure,” you agree, taking a deep breath to relax further. “I’m sorry. The loud noise—” you wave your hand in the air vaguely, rolling your eyes at yourself. “Just scared the shit out of me, I guess,” you finish with an apologetic smile.

“You’re alright,” Carmen confirms and disappears for a bit. In the meantime, you have a small meltdown, shaking your head at yourself for being so, so very terribly lame. Luckily, before he returns with a tray of different dishes, you pull yourself together.

Carmen sets the tray down, revealing an array of colorful and sophisticated meals that instantly catch your curiosity.

“Any allergies?” he asks.

“Passion fruit—easily avoidable. Sometimes kiwi,” you list. “And grumpy chefs,” you add cheekily, feeling bold.

Carmen pauses. “I’m not grumpy. I’m focused.”

“You weren’t like this in Copenhagen,” you say softly, leaning a bit closer to him, your body language signaling that once you had been comfortable around each other.

“I’m more focused now,” Carmen retorts, stubborn and maybe a bit offended. “Back then I—uhm—I felt comfortable around you. It was easy.”

“And now?” you almost whisper.

But Carmen ignores the question, pushing the first bowl closer to you. “Here, taste this… or take a picture and then taste it.”

And you understand that the re-bonding is over.

---

Soon, you drop the habit of visiting the restaurant only in the mornings. One reason is that spending time with Carmen, talking to him or watching him cook and explain things, makes you late for work twice in a row. That usually never happens as you take pride in being on time at the office. You don’t work at The Bear for money, but you hardly think about it that way. When you decide to pop in during the morning, Carmen shares his deadly strong black coffee that he mills himself with you. It’s bitter but heavenly. Secretly, you like drinking it while chewing your favorite cinnamon gum, which somehow makes the taste even better—smoother and richer.

The second reason—you discover that Carmen is much calmer in the evenings after service. Less jittery, more relaxed. His blood flows slower, you think. His heart pumps with more ease. Sydney and he share thoughts and plans for the restaurant with you while you all sit at an empty table. It’s nice, you think, while watching Carmen’s hands play with a napkin. His hands are especially nice.

It’s Saturday and raining as you find yourself sitting in Gordon Ramsay's Burger. Nothing could’ve surprised you more than Carmen asking you to go out eat together. Had he felt bad for ignoring you at the beginning? You’re watching the rivers of raindrops on the big glass window, waiting for Carmen. As usual, you’re ten minutes early, and after you order a Life’s a Beach, the first thing on your mind is you're just early, he didn't stand you up, and then: this is not a date, babe! Which instantly startles you into sitting up straight and looking around, as if someone could see your embarrassing thoughts. Why are you even thinking about this?? Then Carmen arrives, wet patches on his shoulders and jeans that cling to his thighs. He chooses the Chicago hot dog and three different burgers with a bunch of sides. While he only nibbles on them and writes down notes on his phone, you feel bad for wasting the food and eat more than you should. Carmen studies the buns very carefully and asks you a lot of questions about the food, some of which you find amusing and actually—endearing. When you go to bed that night, your belly’s uncomfortably full. You dream that you’re pregnant and about to go into labor, and you’re pretty sure that Carmen’s the father. And, honestly, do you need a book of dreams to explain the meaning? Fuck.

---

All goes to hell next week when Carmen sees you eating a sandwich from the corner shop down the street. Instead of having your regular lunch with Becky, you’ve chosen to run to The Bear so you could see Marcus unveil his new dessert. But before that, you popped into the nearby deli to order a mozzarella and sundried tomato sandwich. No one at The Bear had ever explicitly invited you to the family meal, and you would never dare to have free food there. But the way Carmen looks at you while you sit on the step by the back exit, eating the rather dry sandwich, is indescribable. The stern look on his face is back, with a closed-off facade. His eyes are cold. Before you take it all in, you wave at him awkwardly, chewing. Carmen retreats back inside wordlessly, leaving you confused and a little hurt.

Unfortunately, the atmosphere surrounding you doesn’t improve when you return to work, the stupid sandwich sitting in your stomach like a heavy stone. You have a big argument in the meeting room while planning the next month's issue. Then one of your co-workers makes a nasty remark about your single life. The afternoon drags on painfully slowly, which forces you to message your cousin—an astrologist extraordinaire—to check what the heck is going on with the universe.

Tuesday morning is rough. The second you wake up, you know you’ve overslept because you never get up without the alarm ringing angrily. A single glance at your phone proves it to be true. Right after, you notice three missed calls from Sydney and two from Nat. There are no text messages, though.

At first, you intend to call Rob to beg for a home office day, something you rarely ever use. But as soon as you check your calendar, you’re reminded of the big conference happening from 11 a.m. until 5 p.m. You rush to work, finishing your makeup on the train, then enter the office building to quickly run through notes with your colleagues. The first time you have a chance to make a quick phone call is when you finally go to the bathroom. It’s Natalie who you manage to reach first, as the lunch rush at The Bear is just unfolding. Over the cries of Natalie’s baby, you hear half-sentences about a recipe, Carmen, and a leak. It’s hard to put it all together. At 4 p.m., Nat finally sends you a text. It says: “Recipe’s published in Taste of Home. Carm’s mad. Says someone leaked it.”

It contains a link to the Taste of Home website, with Carmen’s perfect Berkswell Pudding recipe in the Top Recipes of the Week, marked “Chef’s tip.” You check it again to make sure, and surely—it’s one of the dishes Carmen introduced to you just last week. You didn’t dare to photograph it, much less taste it. You remember concentrating on the way his lips moved when he explained the preparation process, not much on the cooking itself.

What’s clear to you is that the "Someone" from Nat’s message is actually you.

A gloomy dread settles in your stomach as the meeting goes on and on. You barely pay attention, which makes everything even worse. You’re scared of what’s happened in the restaurant, and you’re worried that you’re going to miss something important in the meeting.

When you run for a second quick bathroom break, instead of peeing, you think of your next step. You could try to call everyone in the restaurant, try to find out what the hell is going on. But you don’t want to be seen as hysterical. You check Instagram and possible messages to find traces of a catastrophe. There’s nothing. Again, you open the website with the recipe. The photos are pretty sloppy, definitely not something Carmen would prepare. As you check the ingredients, you notice there are some major differences from Carmen’s dish. All in all, the only thing that stops you from texting Carmen is your pride. And true fear.

Absolutely dreading facing Carmen, you make it to The Bear during dinner time. Which, obviously, is the worst possible timing. You’re only praying that he’s not in the kitchen but hiding in his office, deep in paperwork.

It’s Sydney who you meet first as you sneak into the restaurant through the back door. She grabs your arm.

“Don’t go to talk to him now! He’s in a really, really bad mood. Natalie and I were trying to call you.” There’s genuine worry on Sydney’s face, her eyes big and honest.

“I don’t understand what happened,” you frown. You can feel a headache approaching from the intense day in the office. “I think he should tell me himself if there’s a problem.”

“I’ve been trying to work it out with him, to explain—”

“Explain what?” you question, more sternly than you usually are around Syd.

She falters. “It’s just this stupid thing—and we love having you—don’t let Carmy upset you,” Sydney half-explains. It doesn’t make much sense, and you shake your head, heading to the office. You’re more mad than afraid now.

You don’t wait for an invite after you knock shortly. Closing the door behind you, you find Carmen leaning against the desk, a bottle of water in his hand.

Everything inside of you drops the second he lays his eyes on you. There’s no doubt he’s angry.

“Didn’t Natalie tell you you don’t have to come here again?” Carmen asks curtly. “I’m surprised you think it’s okay to be here.”

Not expecting Carmen to be this harsh from the beginning, you swallow instead of answering.

“I hope that you’re happy now,” he says meanly, putting the bottle down on the desk.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you croak out, sincerely meaning it.

Carmen straightens up, watching you like a feline. “The recipe. It’s out. One fucking thing I asked not to get out, and now the whole of America can see and fucking even cook it at home.”

You’re frozen to the spot. From the very beginning, you knew that Carmen is not a person to mess with, hoping that you would never experience his anger directed at you. Now it’s happening.

You want to say something about no one being able to cook the way he does, but it’s pointless. Instead, you’re fighting off the flush on your face from embarrassment. You feel like a child being scolded, but you don’t want to look like one.

The muted but still loud kitchen noises bleed through the closed door. A shout, clattering. Not loud enough to stop Carmen from piercing you through and through with his ice-cold eyes.

“I promise I didn’t do anything like that,” you say, desperately wanting the chef to believe you. “I swear!”

Carmen pinches the bridge of his nose, one hand propped on his waist. You wait, breathless, for his next move, scared to death. The shirt you have on is wet with your sweat. The really badly smelling kind—the one your body produces when you’re stressed or scared. And you’ve been stressed since the very morning. You flinch when you move your arm and the odor hits your nose, hoping that Carmen can’t smell you. You would be mortified. The strap of your tote bag is digging into your shoulder painfully, but you don’t dare to move to put it down to relieve your arm.

“This all doesn’t—it doesn’t make any sense,” Carmen starts pacing, looking down at the floor and not at you anymore. You’re not sure if it’s better this way. “You come here, wanna do a fucking interview with me, or some shit, then you show up again—this time wanting to work here. For free! So, please, tell me—how does it sound, huh?”

Petrified, you realize how exactly it all sounds. When Carmen says it like this, it makes you look like a fraud. Like a terrible, terrible person. A liar. Your mind goes weeks back, back to the moment you actually thought of maybe digging some scoop in here, maybe convincing Carmen to do the interview after all. But it’s far from how he’s making the situation sound.

“Carmen,” you start without knowing what you want to say. Carmen’s stopped walking around the tiny office like a caged animal, and he’s again looking at you. There’s so much tension in his face, back hunched. “It sounds bad, but may I explain—”

“You may not,” he cuts you off briskly. His neck—normally a place you find sexy—is all red, and the thick vein there is getting more and more prominent by the second. “No one fucks with my business, you understand?” Oh—and he’s shouting now.

The natural defense, you didn’t know existed, is to make yourself smaller. Somehow, anyhow. You hang your head, avoiding looking at his face. You just can’t meet his eyes, even though Carmen’s bowing and tilting his head to force you to.

“It’s like I have to start asking the staff to sign an NDA,” he carries on.

Carmen’s getting slowly closer and closer to you, pushing you against the wall by the door. He’s not touching you but only because you’re not allowing it. You’re sick with humiliation. Lost for words, probably for the first time in your life.

“—and Nat fucking leaves me here—us, all of us—and that’s just not fair. I would expect so, so much more from my sister. Not that my brother was much better,” he chuckles humorlessly, but you see it’s more like an effort to catch his breath. “Lousy fuckers… Do you think you do your job well here, chef?”

He’s scaring you now. The hair by his temples and above his forehead is damp, and his gesticulation is wild and weird.

“Do we disgust you here, is that right, hm?” Carmen probably finally sees your frightened expression because he adds, “Why would you buy food somewhere else and then come here to eat it?!” You understand that he’s referring to the day he saw you eating the sandwich by the rear exit. Unsure whether he expects you to reply, you decide to stay quiet. Your knees are starting to shake, from exhaustion after the long day and perhaps, from Carmen’s current behavior.

“It made ME sick,” he says, his face just inches from yours when one of his hands slams into the thin wall right next to your head. The noise echoes in the room, and you’re desperately hoping it’s not loud enough for the others to hear from outside. You would die on the spot if they knew what’s going on here.

“Who do you think you are?” Carmen shouts some more, loud, by your ear. It vibrates through you and never stops. You’re shivering all over, you notice. It’s not okay, not okay!

At last, you raise your head, chin jutting out. “No one’s going to talk to me like this. No one,” you spit out in the chef’s face, taking him by surprise. “Don’t you ever shout at me again,” and you jab him right in the middle of his chest, instead of punching him there like he deserves.

When you’re leaving his office and rushing to the back exit, you hear Carmen yelling.

Everything feels tense and your hands are shaking. Your jaw is set so hard your teeth could crush from the pressure. The fresh air hits your face, and you focus on breathing deeply through your nose. The sounds remind you of a steam engine. You walk for about a minute, mind blank with the shock. Only when you turn a corner do you allow yourself to stop, which causes the first tears to fall. You’re so mad at yourself. Why the fuck are you crying?! There’s so much frustration in the crazy mixture of emotions you’re feeling. You’re completely overwhelmed with it, not knowing what to focus on at first.

Out of habit, you look for your phone in your handbag to check the screen. The fucking heavy bag that’s been killing your shoulder. Frustrated, you let it slide off your arm and down to the sidewalk. You don’t even care if it breaks, as it lands with a noisy, dull sound. It had been years since you got properly yelled at, and you’re angry that it affects you this much. You promise yourself to take a few seconds here, in the middle of an empty street, then call a cab. At home, you can cry.

PART II

#here it is! i can't quite believe that it's happening #the bear #fic #my fic #carmen berzatto x the reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto fic #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you

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givethemsmut · 7 months ago

Text

Dom Mysterio x Reader

I needed a place to write and this story has been running up the storage on my phone.

Dom X Reader

Friends to Lovers

WWE mixed with real life

All fanfic, I don’t own WWE characters, etc.

Tons of Smut Chapter One | Where it all started…

I had known Dom since I was fourteen, attending the same Catholic school and wearing the same navy blue uniforms that felt too stiff to relax in.

I had been living with his family since it mattered and dating their son was not an option. No matter how much I wanted to.

We were both seventeen when I finally asked Dom to be my first. I didn’t want anyone else and I wanted to get it over with. Nothing about your first time is supposed to be heavenly. They scared us with pain and bleeding as women in health class enough to make anyone dread the first time. And who better than my best friend?

Dom was eating Cheetos and bothering his mom cooking in the kitchen when I strolled up.

Texting Dom even though I was right next to him was how we communicated without speaking a lot. A go to for us.

Me: Will you take my virginity?

I had no idea if Dom was a virgin still. He was attractive, wealthy, famous dad, and everything girls chased.

Dom: Are you serious?

Me: Yeah. Who else? I want to get it over with.

Dom had already properly stolen my first kiss and I was more than grateful. Drinking, smoking, every first a teen could have Dom was there for. He was my best friend but he was also a guy and living with him didn’t help those pesky hormones.

Me: Aren’t you horny?

Dom: I’m a fucking guy and you live here. No relief, mi amore. Are you sure? Can’t take it back.

Me: Yes, I can’t take it anymore. I’m pretty sure your parents can hear my vibrator at night.

Dom: Fuck. That’s not helping.

I touched his leg and made an apologetic face while he winced with his head down. It wasn’t a secret we were attracted to each other. Even his parents made jokes about us spending time together or flirting.

Getting up Dom clasped onto my arm, stopping me, “tonight.”

We had kissed at parties, in his bedroom, even in the shared bathroom but nothing crazy. We hadn’t made out the way you see in movies.

“Can you come with me? Right now. I need your help.”

Dom said something in Spanish to his mom before he followed behind me up stairs. Their house was lavish, big but modest somehow at the same time. Climbing the stairs he kept asking me what was going on when I kept shutting him up until we were behind doors.

Pushing him into his room I closed the door behind us. “We haven’t even made out yet. I don’t wanna skip anything.” I stood by the door watching Dom trying to calculate anything I was saying. Pulling the hoodie over my head and exposing my red bralette immediately made my nipples hard knowing he was about to look.

“Wait, hermosa. We can’t just rush into this. I don’t even know if I can make out with you and not wanna do more.” He sat on the edge of his bed holding his face in his hands and his elbows digging into his knees. “Okay, so we do more.”

Walking over to him I pushed him back, standing between his legs. “Do you not want to? It’s okay if you don’t.”

He sat back looking down at his crotch in his gym shorts. “Does it look like I don’t want to? I want to. I don’t want you to regret it. Regret me.”

Pushing Dominik back until he was flat against the bed I climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands finally reached out and touched my legs but I could still feel the conflict brewing inside him.

“Dom, just kiss me already.”

Siting up right his lips snipped at mine and his eyes locked into mine. We both pulled away enough to look at each other. Every nerve in me flared up and suddenly I was aware of my body, arching my back in his hands.

“You don’t have to try, mi armor. You’re already everythingâ€¦” his hands traced up my sides, fingertips tickling the seam of my bralette. “I’m the lucky one here.”

Those hormones were waging a war between my thighs when I felt how hard he was under me. I wanted to give him all of me but every part of me relied on logic.

No one finds forever at seventeen.

“Are you virgin still?” I asked as he kissed my neck and his thumbs teased my hard nipples.

Smiling against my skin I bit down on my lip trying to hide every emotion. “I haven’t babe. It would be a lot easier right now if I had.”

“You can touch me, Dom.” My voice scratched the surface of a whisper.

Slowly his hands moved to cup my breasts, letting his fingers dig into me enough to make me jump. Immediately he stated apologizing, “I’m sorry, too hard.”

“No, no. It feels really good.”

“My mom is downstairs. We can’t be loud.”

“Just kiss me, Dominik,” I begged him to shut me up.

Rolling over, he pushed me down, his legs under my thighs and my pussy so wet it was uncomfortable. “Oh my god.”

Our mouths were hungry, nipping and biting between kisses, our tongues wrestling every time our lips parted. Everything felt too good to be true.

His hands pinned down my wrists when he pulled away. “Fuck. I -“ he couldn’t even say it. I knew he needed me to touch him too.

My hand snaked down between us and I smoothed over his erection when it jerked against me. Kissing his jaw and neck I felt so turned on it was hard to think straight.

Lowering down into I felt him rock against my hand. “Fuck. I wanna fuck you. I wanna be inside you.”

His words made my body vibrate even more. “Fuck me, Dom. I want it to be you.”

Tugging my bralette down his mouth closed over my nipple, flicking his tongue over me like a professional. Pushing the waist band on my sweats down I let my hips grind against nothing as Dom tossed them behind him.

“Fuck.” Something followed in his native tongue and I felt myself melt against the mattress.

“What does that mean?”

“You’re turning me on so damn much. Let me taste you baby.” He whispered his words as he slide down the bed. Opening my legs enough to look at me before he kissed down my legs. Pausing before his mouth collided with my pussy.

I felt his tongue lick my folds, pushing inside me, brushing my clit. I tried my hardest not to moan out loud but I couldn’t help it when it tumbled from my lips. Dom’s hand reached up my body covering my mouth while he licked.

I was soaked, a mess, when I begged him to fuck me. “I can’t take anymore, please, Dom.”

Kneeling up right he pushed down his shorts finally letting me see him. He sprung out hard and angry like. All I wanted to do was touch him and give him relief but I waited.

Dom’s hand closed around himself before dragging down his length as I gasped at his movements. “Jesus, Dom. You’re huge.”

“Just wait until you feel me baby. Tell me you’re on birth control.” Pulling him down to me I shook my head before kissing him.

We made out until we couldn’t take it anymore. Dom guided himself inside me and I forced myself to be quiet while every part of me stretched for him.

“Oh my god, mi amor. You feel too good. I’m gonna come too quick.” He said those words but I had already came so many times I contemplated how I was going to walk after.

He started thrusting himself inside me, pounding between my legs and trying to chase our moans away with kissing.

Twisting over he said, “Ride me baby. I wanna see you on top, Mami.”

Straddling him again I repositioned myself and shook as I felt him deeper inside me. I nearly came right then when his hands roamed my body so gently. Landing on my hips he guided me forward, swaying and grinding on top of him.

Neither of us heard anyone coming, not the doorknob or his mom’s voice shout out before she opened the door in her own house. “Dominik, dinner is ready.”

All we heard was the gasp from the door way when Dom flipped us over working his hips slower, painfully slow. “Mami! Por favor!”

Trying to hide under him I felt mortified. His family took me in, Dom was my best friend. They were going to blame and hate me now.

His mom immediately left, panicked and embarrassed as us I can only assume. “Hey, ignore that. It’s just us. It’s just me.”

Twisting my legs around him I felt my hips begs for more. “I need this, Dom. Every muscle, every smile, it’s torture living with you and not touching you. I touch myself every night just to keep sane but your family took me in. I can’t betray them. It’s just our virginities.”

“Betray them, hermosa. My family has nothing to do with this. You wouldn’t feel this good if it was wrong.”

Kissing me again I tried to push away the negative thoughts when my body was ready to orgasm again. Only this time was around Dom’s cock inside me. Grasping his biceps I felt my body tumble off a cliff. “Dominik, Dom.” I pleaded but for nothing. We gave each other everything tonight. I risked so much and yet none of him left a bad taste in my mouth.

We laid there for a while in silence, Dom still on top of me and kissing my face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m okay. Sore but okay.”

We would have laid there forever but his father’s fist pounded on the door. It was unmistakable, he was stern with us, me included but for reason. We were pushing the boundaries and they trusted us. They trusted me to act like a daughter or perfect house guest not the girl fucking their son.

Scrambling to his feet he yanked on his shorts again and I wrapped the sheet around me. I fled to the shared bathroom and closed the door behind me. Quickly turning on the shower I jumped in before it was hot. Anything to avoid their disappointment. His family raise me since I was fifth-teen, I didn’t want to loose them.

Every touch ran through my mind while I tried to hear Rey scolding Dom. “What are thinking? With your mom right down stairs? Mija, we took her in because she needed familia, not so she could be your friends with benefits.”

“Are you serious right now? You know how I feel. She’s not here to take my virginity and piss you off. We wanted to be each other’s first. That’s special.” Dom’s voice was steady and it was unnerving.

“She can’t live here and you two be sexually active. That’s final.”

“That’s so unfair! How was I supposed to know I would fall in love with her?”

“Dominik, listen to me. You’re a teenager. You are going to find your one at this age.” He was right. I twisted the knob to full blast before I actually showered off my first time. I had to break his heart to keep them as family. We would get over it one day. I knew it.

Getting ready I came down stairs like nothing happened. “I’m so sorry, I’m gonna skip dinner but leave the dishes. I’ll do them when I get back. Blaine asked me out.” I said everything while looking at the floor. Dom’s heart was breaking right in front of me.

Dom stood up from the table. “Are you fucking serious? After what we just did?”

“Dom. We can talk later, okay?” I pleaded him with my soft voice to drop it. Not in front of his family but I knew better. Dom could be a dog with a bone when he wanted to be.

Swiftly moving around the table he followed me out the front door where my date was picking me up. It was all for show, I had no interest in Blaine but I needed him to understand that we couldn’t cross those lines again. Not anymore. He would forgive me later.

Blaine wasn’t at the end of the driveway the way I planned when Dom grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “What are you doing? We just had sex and now you’re going on a date?”

“I said get it over with. I never agreed to dating or anything else.” It hurt to say.

“Bullshit. I can fucking tell by every goddamn moan that came out of your mouth.” He practically spit the words in my face. We were standing so close I could feel the anger come off him. “Don’t do this. Don’t give me some bullshit about first. We both know what happened in there wasn’t fucking firsts.”

Blaine pulled up in his expensive car just at the right time when I managed to escape Dom’s grip.

Later that night I came home and cleaned the entire kitchen when his dad came breezing in. “You don’t have to avoid us. I’m not kicking you out. Dom might have other feelings tho. I understand why you did what you did. It’s okay, mija. You’re family now. You don’t have to choose between us and Dominik.”

That was the last time we spoke of it and the start of a five month Cold War before Dom and I made up.

I even contemplated crawling back to my family but just like my life up that point - nothing went as planned. I had missed my period by two months and I panicked. The only person I had to go to was Dom’s mom who knew I had deflowered her son.

At first she was furious but then she finally came around. She didn’t agree with my termination but I knew being a teenage mom to a boy I couldn’t even admit to loving wasn’t going to be my story.

Dom’s parents agreed to keep it secret from their son until I made the decision to come clean to him. I planned on dying with that secret.

He was destined for greatness, following in his father’s footsteps while I was practically an orphan. I had no plans and no direction.

When Dom finally came around it was to tell me he was moving to Florida for training camp and it devastated me just as much as I had done to him. “Dad said it would be a good idea to have someone I knew and trusted by my side. He already got us a condo in Miami. You in?”

I jumped at the invitation, I wanted my best friend back. That was all I wanted actually.

“I’m in. When do we leave?”

Chapter Two coming…

#smut #dom mysterio #wwe fanfiction #fanfiction #wwe #Dom mysterio smut #dom mysterio x reader #dominik mysterio #fanfic #Dominik mysterio smut #wwe smut #wwe x reader #wwe x oc #wwe x y/n

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strangesmallbard · 8 months ago

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bg3 characters if they worked at publix/safeway/your grocery store of choice:

karlach: in charge of anything that involves moving heavy objects between locations, but also works produce. LOVES helping old ladies take their groceries to the car; will accidentally abandon the vegetables at least once per shift. (she does apologize to the vegetables.) also is a pallet stacking master in the most haphazard configurations that, somehow, miraculously never fall over. frequently posts her monstrosities on r/publix, alongside a selfie of her giving a cheeky thumbs up.

wyll: store manager, in his second year of a master’s degree in public policy. optimistic like a sword is optimistic. WILL make sure you take your mandated break and will hand out store giftcards for a job well done. does not suffer customers who behave badly. is roommates and longtime best friends with karlach; the energy they exude while together either makes your shift bearable or unbearable, depending.

shadowheart: works the in-store coffee counter. probably should not because she always looks vaguely disgusted, annoyed, or bored. the dark circles under her eyes are always there no matter how many espresso shots she sips. has anonymously complained to corporate about the store’s music choices. every new employee thinks they have a shot with her until she hits them with the 👁️😐 did you need something? 👁️😐 and they slink away, feeling chastised for reasons unknown.

minthara: works the meat and/or fish counter. smokes seventeen packs per mandated break. always smells a little bit like red meat. has the most insane combat stories but it’s completely unclear whether she’s a veteran or just someone who gets into situations on purpose. every 20-something employee is at least mildly obsessed with her whole thing, but she’ll only humor karlach. no one knows where she lives.

lae’zel: 22-year-old grocery team lead. typically works the 5pm-11pm shift, but still obviously runs that shit like a navy seal base. has encyclopedic knowledge of grocery store codes and also lore. during mandated breaks she can be found doing one-armed pushups, argueflirting with shadowheart, or scribbling poetry in a notebook. she’s also the pitcher on her college’s varsity baseball team; everyone shows up to her big games and she fails at not looking overwhelmed by joy every time.

jaheira: beloved customer service manager, knows literally everything and everyone. taught wyll everything he knows about not suffering customers who behave badly. often goes mountain climbing with her scary 39-year-old girlfriend astele who owns the smoke shop next door. sells the best weed you’ll ever smoke in your life.

gale: day shift manager counterpart to lae’zel, postdoc who needs the job to make rent obviously. constantly gives aisle directions for the store location he worked during undergrad and shelves the soup cans all wrong. WILL show you photos of his cat. constantly recognized by his booktube fans (he also streams sims 4 builds of classic sci fi/fantasy book locations). he does wear his own merch underneath the uniform.

halsin: that customer who’s very polite but frequently and inexplicably barefoot. he also teaches woodworking and pottery at the youth center down the road. sometimes brings his regular kids to the store for a field trip and those little bags of cheetos. grows the weed that jaheira sells.

astarion: does not work at the grocery store. he worked at the grocery store for two weeks, during which he showed up late every day, insulted customers, and generally behaved like a cat ripped away from his ball of yarn. he only lasted those two weeks because gale (roommate/situationship) begged wyll to give him another chance in a different department. he still lives with gale while finishing up a law degree and can be found loitering in the grocery store, bitching about The Circumstances with shadowheart.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #karlach #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #minthara baenre #lae'zel #jaheira #gale dekarios #halsin #astarion #yell.txt

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hippiegoth97 · 2 months ago

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 28

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 27

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smoking, alcohol use, teasing, fluff, smut, fingering, oral sex, praise/degradation, handcuffs, sex toys, unprotected sex, anal fingering, pegging, choking, role-swapping, squirting, consecutive orgasms, slight overstimulation

Word Count: 14.1k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 28.1: I Want You to Rock Me

Friday, July 21st, 1989

"Where are we going, angel?" Eddie asks for the fifth time in the last hour or so. He's sitting in the passenger seat of your car, while you drive him the three hours to Fort Wayne, Indiana. Today, July 21st, is Eddie's twenty-fourth birthday, and you have the perfect surprise planned.

"You'll see, Eds. Just please be patient? It'll be more than worth the wait." You reply, trying your hardest not to break down and tell him already. You've been sitting on this secret for over a month, you're shocked that Eddie never picked up on it whatsoever. But you suppose that could be because he's been ranting and raving about this for God knows how long. Ozzy Osbourne is performing at the Allen County War Memorial Coliseum for his No Rest For the Wicked Tour tonight, as Eddie has told you at least a thousand times. But as much as he's been wanting to go, he's denied himself, claiming it's too expensive and too far away.

You hated seeing him so down about it, so you did what any good girlfriend would do. You went to your local record store, and made damn sure you could score two tickets to the show. It was much easier than you anticipated to get said tickets, which was quite a relief. With how much Eddie has talked the show up, you'd been worried that they'd sell out fast. You're eternally grateful for the raise you've received at the theater, otherwise they may have been a bit out of your price range. Thirty-three bucks later, and you know the look on Eddie's face will be worth every penny.

"Ugh, fine. I only hope you're not driving me to the middle of nowhere to kill me." Eddie jokes, sulking into his seat. He's finding himself rather bored, and he didn't expect to be riding in the car for hours on end on his birthday.

"Never, love. Now, quit pouting. I brought your favorite snacks, they’re in that bag back there." You say sweetly, pointing to a plastic bag containing Yoo-Hoos and Cheetos.

"I suppose that makes things a little bit better." He grumbles, pulling the items to the front of the car. "Can I at least get a hint?" He begs, popping open a glass bottle of chocolate milk.

"Alright. It is your birthday, after all. All I'll say is that you've been wanting this for a very long time." You say, knowing this hint may be a bit on the nose.

"That doesn't narrow it down, like, at all, Y/N." He says in annoyance, taking a big swig of his drink.

"Sorry, that's all I'm giving you. If I actually tell you, you're gonna be way too hyper in the car." You giggle, recalling the excitable tone of voice and erratic movements of his hands as he's brought up the concert again and again. "And, as much as I love you, I cannot be trapped in such a small space with you flipping out."

"How do you know I'm gonna flip out?" He asks accusingly, munching down some chips now.

You think of a response for a moment, trying to come up with something clever. But nothing comes to mind. Instead, you opt for the slightly seductive approach. "Trust me, Eddie. When you see what I've got planned, you are gonna lose your fuckin' mind." You speak softly, a light rasp in your voice as you look over at him. He swallows hard, before backing down from his interrogation.

"If you say so, sweetheart." He smiles, a light ring of cheese dust caked around his mouth. You giggle at his messiness, and his face falls. "What? Do I have something on my face?" He asks.

"Yes, Eddie. Yes you do. Here." You reply, leaning over to pop open the glove compartment where you keep spare napkins. He reaches for one, wiping away the orange powder from his face.

"Thanks." He says, his cheeks tinging a light pink. He hates being such a messy eater, it makes him feel like a toddler sometimes. He puts the chips away for now, pulling out his smokes. He takes two cigarettes out of the box, lighting them both and handing one off to you.

"Oh, thank you, baby." You say, taking the cig between your fingers. "You wanna put on some music? We've still got two hours to go." You gesture at the stereo, letting Eddie have free reign of it.

"Two hours!" Eddie groans, taking an obscenely long drag of his smoke. He's feeling antsy, all amped up from the festivities earlier. Claudia baked him a cake, even going so far as to draw a guitar and a D20 on it in homemade icing. The Hellfire Club came over to give him a few gifts, some new dice and tapes. Wayne gave him the same thing he does every year, a Hershey bar and a crisp fifty-dollar bill. Your friends in particular got him some guitar picks, a bottle of Drakkar Noir (Steve's pick, though Eddie's cheap stuff smells pretty damn good in your opinion.), and free video rentals for an entire year. And you surprised him with this little overnight getaway.

Though he doesn't know the final destination, he knows that at the very least you get to spend an evening in a hotel, away from Hawkins and everyone in it. Fuck knows the both of you could use it. You have not one, but two trials coming up. One involving Jason and Chrissy, and the other involving Jack and Tommy Hagan. You called Murray Bauman the day after Chief Powell gave you his card, and you have a meeting set up next week. Murray sounded like quite the character on the phone, asking 'how did you get this number?' in a hushed, accusing tone. He also sounded a little drunk, like you could almost smell the booze coming through the phone. But you don't exactly have a lot of options here, fancy lawyers are way out of your price range.

Besides your legal troubles, things have mostly gone back to normal over these last couple of weeks. Wayne is responding well to his medication, and Eddie has returned to work. You still decided to task Dustin and Steve to take shifts checking in on Wayne tonight and in the morning while you're away, just in case. And after the handyman came around to repair the damages the Hagans caused, your house and bedroom are looking good as new. All you need to worry about right now is Eddie's surliness, and you'll gladly take that over everything else you've been through lately.

"Ugh, remind me not to make little road trips like this a regular thing." You chuckle, holding off on becoming upset with him. It's his special day, and you know he isn't fond of being cooped up like this. But no matter how bratty he may get, it'll all be worth it when you pull up to the arena and Eddie sees Ozzy's name in lights.

"Sorry. I promise, I'm not meaning to be ungrateful or anything. I'm sure whatever it is will be awesome, since you planned it." Eddie sighs, putting himself in check. It may be his birthday, but he doesn't need to act up like this. Car rides just...annoy him. Especially in a state like Indiana. There's nothing to really look at out the window, except farms that smell of cow shit, or thick rows of trees. And the radio only picks up static or preachy Christian nonsense on roads like this.

"It's okay, Eds. I know it's kinda boring right now. Did you bring your sketchbook or something? That could help pass the time." You suggest, shrugging your shoulders and bringing your cig to your lips. You breathe in the smoke deeply, relaxing a little after Eddie's slight step on your nerves.

"Nah, I didn't think I'd need it. You got any tapes in here?" He asks, popping open the glovebox again.

"I think so. There might be one in the stereo already. Watch out, though, my mom's 'single mother self-help tape' is in here somewhere. And I do not wanna hear it any more than I've had to for the last nine years." You say with a laugh, drawing one from him as well.

"What does that sound like?" He asks, genuinely curious.

"Oh, you know. Lots of affirmations and repeating phrases. Like, 'You're a strong, capable woman. You are good enough. Your children love you.'" You mimic the tape to the best of your recollection, mocking the overly calm tone of voice that the woman on the cassette puts on.

"Jesus, that sounds like a cult!" Eddie chuckles, shuffling your loose tapes around to find one he can stomach. Madonna, no. Belinda Carlisle, absolutely not. David Bowie...now we're talkin'. He smirks as he plucks the Bowie album from the bunch, slipping it into the rectangular hole in the stereo.

"It probably would be, if she bought the books that go along with it." You reply as "Five Years" begins to play, taking another drag of your cig.

"Of course there's books, too. What is a cult without its reading material?" He continues cracking jokes, finding this new information rather entertaining.

"Very true, baby. But, I will say it helped Mom a lot. The kind phrases, at least. She was able to keep her head up, even on the tough days." You say, feeling somewhat guilty for making fun of it now. The overall concept of said tape is pretty silly, but the way your mom used it to help herself move on after George left was the exact opposite.

"I didn't think about it like that. I'll stop ragging on it." Eddie says softly, feeling a bit like an asshole again.

"No, no. I started it, and you couldn't have known." You insist that it's not his fault. He nods, not adding anything else. You both continue to smoke, allowing Bowie to tell his tales of Ziggy and the Spiders from Mars to fill the silence. Eddie taps his fingers on his thigh to the beat of each song, the metal of his rings clinking together. You look over at him, finding his head trained to look out the window. You smile at his relaxed demeanor, returning your eyes to the road a second later.

Eddie lights another round of smokes without even thinking about it. He hands you yours again, giving you a kind grin. You reciprocate, gladly taking another dose of nicotine. It passes the time, and keeps you calm before reaching the stadium, which will no doubt be packed with hundreds of rowdy metalheads. "Are we there yet?" He asks, becoming a bit impatient again. He looks over at you, hoping you have a good answer for him.

"Not yet, Eds." You sigh, trying your best not to roll your eyes. You love this man to death, but he has very little capacity for waiting. You've still got one more hour to go, and the signs along the long winding road keep counting down the miles to Fort Wayne. You don't think Eddie's paying much attention to them, he'd surely be putting the pieces together if he did. Forty-five miles left, which gradually turns into thirty, then fifteen, with your love questioning you at every interval. "Just a little longer, I promise." You answer as you finally reach your exit. You pass by the sign welcoming you into town, and make your way to the arena. The show starts in less than an hour, and you still need to find a parking spot, get inside, and purchase any merchandise Eddie might want.

"Okay." He says quietly, slouching further into his seat. He fiddles with his rings, twisting them around his digits over and over as he stares at them. You're kind of glad he's spacing out right now, because it'll make the final reveal so much more impactful when you tell him to look up. You make a few more turns, following the signs and the growing traffic. And then you see it, the massive, octagon-shaped building. Long, stretching lots full of cars surround the structure, and a giant banner advertising Ozzy Osbourne's show is strung along the front face, lit up with huge spotlights.

"You wanna see your surprise, love?" You ask excitedly, nudging Eddie's shoulder with yours as you're slowly corralled into the parking line by a man in a reflective vest.

"Hm?" Eddie hums in questioning, lifting his head from his spaced-out fidgeting to see what you're talking about. His eyes widen immediately, his jaw falling slack as he realizes where you've brought him. "You didn't." He murmurs, in complete shock and disbelief.

"I did. Happy birthday, Eddie." You reply sweetly, absolutely loving the gobsmacked look on his face. He turns to you, suddenly overwhelmed with unbridled joy. A wide smile spreads across his mouth, and you can tell he's ready to explode with happiness.

"Marry me?" He asks, which makes you giggle.

"Sorry, no time. We have a concert to get to." You say in a cheeky tone.

"Someday?" He presses on, and you realize he's serious. You pause for a moment, unsure how to respond to that. You've both made your intentions clear in this relationship, the two of you are all in at this rate. But to actually hear him ask, and over something like this, it's definitely a mind-fucker. You stall the car for a second, waiting for the line to move along. You take hold of Eddie's hands, and the second his flesh meets yours, you remember exactly how you feel about him, and how to answer his question.

"Someday, Eds." You almost whisper, returning his loving gaze.

"Good. And don't worry, you'll get an actual proposal when the time is right. And it's gonna knock your fuckin' socks off." He chuckles, he's been thinking of how and when to ask you to marry him for a very long time, almost your entire relationship. He knows you're the one for him, and he knows that you feel the same.

"Oh, yeah?" You ask coyly, before needing to start driving again. A gap has formed in front of you, and the car at your rear has started honking.

"Oh, yeah." He says, leaning in to speak in your ear. "When you see what I've got planned, you're gonna lose your fuckin' mind." Eddie bites your earlobe after, sending a harsh blush creeping up your neck and across your cheeks.

"You'd better cut that out, baby. Otherwise we're gonna miss the show." You say with a shaky breath, resisting the urge to fan yourself at how hot and bothered Eddie has made you with such a simple move.

"Says you! I'm not missing this for anything!" Eddie exclaims, the anxious excitement is really kicking in now.

"Not even for me, on my knees, giving you the best head of your life?" You ask casually, eyes focused on the road as you continue down the manned pathways.

"Nope!" Eddie chirps, practically bouncing in his seat at the thought of seeing one of his biggest musical heroes in the flesh.

"Not even for my perfect little pussy, that's always so hot, and wet...and tight for you?" You continue, wondering just how well his resolve holds against your seductive charms.

"'Fraid not, sweetheart." He says, trying to ignore your filthy words. He may be a bit preoccupied with wanting to get inside already, but you're still making him a little hard inside his jeans. He adjusts uncomfortably, shimmying his legs a bit to shift himself around.

You're finally directed into a parking spot, and you kill the engine to try one last thing. You turn yourself in your seat, putting your face as close to Eddie's as possible. Your lips are centimeters away from his, and you gaze deep into his eyes. "Not even for anal, Eds? I'm starting to think we made that little trip to the Love Hut for nothing." You purr, poking your tongue out to lick his lips. He tries to hold it back, but you can still hear a very faint moan escape him. You can't help smirking, thinking he'll give in, admit that you drive him absolutely insane.

"Sorry, angel. No dice." He replies, now grinning himself. You pull away, simultaneously surprised and impressed with his level of self-control. Under any other circumstance, he'd already be fucking you into next week by now.

"Damn, maybe you should ask Ozzy to marry you instead." You joke, gathering your purse and keys as you prepare to step outside.

"Don't tempt me, babydoll." He quips back, opening his door. You both stand up, letting out small groans as you stretch your legs. Eddie comes around to your side of the car, taking hold of your hand to pull you towards the arena. "C'mon, Y/N. We don't have all night!" He says hurriedly, getting very ahead of himself.

"Alright, just hold on!" You say with a laugh, slinging your purse over your shoulder to keep up. You join the mass of bodies slowly filing in the front doors. You pull out your tickets from your bag, gripping them firmly as you wait to give them to the ushers.

"Can I hold the tickets?" Eddie asks excitedly, staring at the gray slips of paper in your hands.

"If you want to, just don't drop them." You hand them over, and Eddie's eyes pore over every detail of the tickets. The price, the date, Ozzy's name and the opening acts, all printed right there in black and white.

"I can't believe this is actually happening!" He almost shouts, rapidly tapping his feet like a giddy child. You giggle at his display, your heart swelling at how happy he is to be here. "You are the best girlfriend ever, Y/N." He leans over to plant a big wet kiss on your cheek. You blush at his affections, trying not to trip as you continue through the line.

"I'm glad you're so excited, Eds. You deserve this, and I'm happy that I got to do this for you." You reply, meeting his gaze to tenderly press your lips to his for a moment. He hums lightly against you, wrapping his free arm around your waist to keep you close. It's almost your turn, and you pull away to let him pay attention to the ticket takers. You step forward together, and he gives the tickets over to the staff, getting them back with one end missing.

"Here, we should save these. To remember this special night." Eddie gives you the little stubs back, and you slip them into your purse. You take a moment to look around, noticing how everyone in the building looks. There's men and women of all ages here, with cascading curls, mullets, teased tangles, dressed to the nines in leather, denim, pins, patches, and chains. Eddie certainly fits in, he'd had the forethought to wear his battle vest today, as well as one of his usual metal t-shirts and some tight jeans. You, on the other hand, are a little out of place. You gaze down at your simple blue jeans and blouse, and you suddenly feel very self-conscious.

"Looks like I'm a little underdressed." You comment, drawing your love's eyes to you. He notices your discomfort, taking off his vest to give to you.

"Here. This should help." He smiles at you, and you gladly take it. You slip your arms through the holes, and relax as the scent of him wafts from the denim fabric. It fits a little large on you, but at least you aren't standing here looking like his sister he was forced to drag along or something.

"Thanks, Eds. You're so sweet." You coo, taking his hand again. "Oh, we should get you a shirt before the show. The guy I bought the tickets from said merch sells out pretty quick." You add, gently pulling him along to see what there is to choose from.

"Don't have to tell me twice, sweetheart." He smirks, gazing over the contents of the tables. He picks out a shirt in his size, and you decide to get a matching one for yourself. There's also a patch that he takes a shine to, so you purchase that as well. You notice there's also a small snack bar selling beer, making a quick stop there before heading to the general admission floor. You join the mass of bodies gathering near the front of the stage, still holding tightly onto Eddie's hand along the way. Many loud conversations are taking place all around you, and the both of you take a quick look at the whole arena. Rows and rows of seats go up the back and sides of the structure, with this large pit of open space in the center. There's quite a lot of people that got in before you, so you're about five or six rows of bodies away from the barriers in front of the stage.

"You ever been to a concert before, Eds?" You ask, gazing at his awestruck face. His eyes are full of wonder, and he can't stop smiling. He's surrounded by hundreds of people just like him, he can feel it. An enormous gathering of freaks, weirdos, and misfits, all of which share his love for the music. It's a little overwhelming, to be honest. And a word keeps popping into his head, one that hasn't been evoked very often in his life. Home. A single tear rolls down his cheek, and he snaps out of his trance to return his attention to you.

"No, princess. But I'm glad I get to have my first one with you." Eddie wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. His plush lips melt against yours, and you place your free hand on his chest. You can feel his heart racing, as if it's pounding itself against his ribs to tell you how meaningful this gift is. He's so goddamn thankful for you doing all this for him, he never thought that he'd be so lucky to experience a live show. And having you here with him makes it a thousand times better. A couple more tears escape him, quickly dissolving onto your own cheeks. He would keep kissing you as if the world has disappeared, when the room is suddenly all filled up, and the first opening act runs onto the stage. Eddie breaks away to look ahead as everyone around you starts cheering.

The first act of the night is a badass female band called Vixen. You've heard some of their stuff, Eddie wanted you to see that women can rock just as hard as the guys. "Edge of A Broken Heart" is definitely your favorite. It's extremely catchy, and you sing along to it with Eddie on a regular basis. The band consists of gorgeous women with extremely teased blonde hair, dramatic makeup, and perfectly skimpy outfits. They take their places with their instruments, and greet the audience before getting into their set.

The band plays six songs, all of which keep the crowd shouting the lyrics and jumping around with intense energy. You and Eddie sing along to the ones you know, holding nothing back as you attempt to dance despite being squished between tons of other people. You guzzle down your beers rather quickly as it's rapidly heating up in here. Eddie holds onto the empty cups until he can toss them away at the end of this set. He doesn't want to lose track of you in all the joyful chaos.

The band ends with your favorite tune, which causes you to be overcome by the power of the music. You grab onto Eddie, pressing your body against his to dance more intimately. He takes hold of your hips, keeping you close. You gaze lovingly at each other, having the time of your lives. You croon the words to one another, and you can't help running your hands up and down his chest and thighs as you move. You're absolutely exhilarated, unable to stop yourself from grazing over the front of his jeans a couple of times. Just a little bit of teasing, a small taste of what's to come once you get back to the hotel.

Eddie's eyes follow your hands as you touch him, and his own travel down to your ass. Only one can give you a firm squeeze as the other is still holding your empty cups, but it's more than enough to compel you to crash your lips onto his again. You find yourself wanting him, the electric energy of this new environment is heightening your senses beyond comprehension. You can tell he wants you just as much, but the time will come for you two to have your favorite kind of fun later. He bites your bottom lip, making you gasp. His tongue slips into your mouth, quickly dominating yours. The taste of beer and cigarettes swirls inside your mouths with every roll of your tongues.

A man next to you in the crowd accidently jostles you apart as the song comes to a close. You suppose it's probably for the best. A couple more seconds of this, and you'd be on the floor doing very inappropriate things. You both let out a shaky breath, trying to put your lustful thoughts aside for the time being. Vixen wishes the crowd a good night, before bowing and exiting the stage. A few crew members come on to start setting up for the next group, and the overhead lights come back on.

"I'll be right back, angel." Eddie shouts over the crowd, before leaving you alone in the sea of people. He carefully pushes his way through to the trash cans at the edge of the arena, and tries to return to you as soon as possible. He takes a good ten minutes, some of the other concert-goers are less than accommodating to someone squeezing past them towards the front. While you're waiting for him to come back, you feel a pinch on your ass. You whip around to see who did it, ready to deck them. But you find no culprit, only the gap where Eddie was before he left. You feel another pinch on the other side, whipping your head in that direction. And you find Eddie this time, giving you his signature devilish grin.

"I thought you were someone else! I was about ready to punch you!" You yell, making sure he can hear.

"Sorry, love. I just can't resist your perfect ass." He chuckles loudly, taking his original spot back.

The second opener of the night comes on, a group neither of you are as fond of. White Lion. They're alright, but they're no Vixen, and they're certainly no Ozzy. You still manage to have fun, moving subtly to the beat to pass the time. You do find their slower tune, "When the Children Cry", to be a bit preachy, though. The crowd seems to enjoy it well enough, so you play along for the sake of enjoying every last second of this. They finish off with "Radar Love", which is their most popular song. You and Eddie dance along again, finding this song far more palatable. It goes by quickly, leaving you a bit sweaty and winded by the end of it. The stage is left empty once more, and it's only a little bit longer until the man you've all come to see takes his turn.

You notice Eddie getting hyper again, rapidly tapping his foot in anticipation, peeking in the wings to see if Ozzy or his bandmates are back there. He's biting his lip slightly, and his grip on your hand tightens. "Doin' okay, Eds?" You shout, and he nods. He decides to give it a rest, knowing time only goes by slower when he stares expectantly like this.

"You want another drink, babydoll?" He asks, his eyes finding yours again.

"Sure!" You reply, digging into your purse for more cash. You hand it off to him, and he goes for a little walk to the snack bar to calm himself down. He returns much quicker this time, employing more assertive methods of wriggling through the impenetrable blob of bodies.

"Here you are, sweetheart. Got a bottle of water in my pocket, too. I'd hate for you to pass out in this heat." Eddie says, giving you your second beer of the night.

"You're so thoughtful, baby." You give him a gentle peck, downing a healthy sip of your drink afterwards. You stand together for a few more minutes, before the overhead lights come down for the third time and the stage lights up. The crowd erupts with cheers, multiple people jump up and down with excitement. Eddie's hand tightens around yours again, and his eyes are glued to the stage. It takes a moment, a little longer than you'd expect, but the members of the band slowly start to come out and take their places with their instruments. Ozzy himself hasn't made an appearance just yet, no doubt he's hyping himself up for this performance.

The audience continues to cheer and clap as the drummer and guitarists fully situate themselves in their places. They begin to play an intro of sorts, working the crowd up even more in preparation for their leader to show himself. The music builds, along with the room's collective anticipation. Time stops for a moment, and then suddenly, Ozzy is running out onto the stage to the mic placed in the dead center of it. The crowd goes absolutely wild, Eddie included. There's screaming, and more jumping, and Ozzy eats up every last bit of it.

"How are we doin' tonight, Fort Wayne?" Ozzy shouts into the mic, gesturing for everyone to make some noise. "Come on! Lemme hear you!" He cries, and the noise only gets louder. You join in the whooping, looking over the man beckoning you all to scream for him. He's dressed in a leather suit with studs and rhinestones all over it, with a tight black tee underneath. He's already coated in sweat, his hair a shaggy, frizzy mess. Thick, black eyeliner circles his bugged-out eyes, making him look insane in the best possible way. Ozzy takes the mic out of the stand, and he begins to pace along the stage, begging for more screams and shouts. "You're not loud enough! Come on!" He shouts, and you all give him exactly what he wants. Satisfied with the amount of excitement now, he takes off his jacket, tossing towards backstage and utters one final phrase to kick off the show. "LET THE MADNESS BEGIN!"

The crowd roars, and the band immediately kicks into "I Don't Know". Ozzy commands you all to 'go crazy' as he sings the lyrics. You're mesmerized at the way he moves about the stage. He's almost like a preacher, rapidly pacing back and forth from end to end, desperately wanting you to hear his words like they're the most important thing in the world. There's so much passion within his voice, and the entire arena mirrors that passion right back to him. Eddie sings along to the words, as do hundreds of others. You aren't as familiar with this song, so you just let Eddie playfully move you around to the music.

Ozzy continues through the song, repeatedly pointing the microphone out to all of you for you to sing along. "LOUDER! I WANNA HEAR YOU!" He shouts with his hand to his ear, still pacing all the way. He returns to the mic stand for a moment as the music slows. "Let me see your hands in the air." He asks, and every single pair of hands go up, unable to refuse his request. He smiles wide, and all of you wave your arms side to side to the music. It's a truly magical moment, everyone is mentally on the same page, engaging as one. You didn't really know what to expect at a show like this, but it's safe to say you feel overwhelmingly welcome here.

The band continues through the set, with Ozzy getting up to his typical antics. He sings song after song like he just released them yesterday, smiling the whole way through. There's head-banging, epic guitar and drum solos that are almost acrobatic, numerous calls for the audience to make even more noise, and he even brings out buckets of ice cold water to toss onto the crowd. You happen to get splashed multiple times, but it's certainly appreciated in this ridiculous heat. You and Eddie sing and dance and totally let loose, you've never seen your boyfriend so happy and excited before. And you can't help loving him even more for being able to see this side of him. You can read it all over his face, he truly feels like he belongs here, and that everyone in this room is just like him. You're overjoyed that you've been able to do this for him, and you're having the time of your life in the process.

About halfway through the show, Ozzy pauses to introduce you all to his amazing band. There's Randy Castillo on the drums, Zakk Wylde on guitar, Geezer Butler on bass, and John Sinclair on the keyboard. They all get a fair amount of cheers and applause, it's nice to see such a legend in the industry show appreciation for his bandmates. They continue through the set, getting into more familiar territory. "War Pigs" is a clear fan-favorite, and you get to see what is probably one of the most epic concert displays in history. Ozzy will sing one line, and then the entire arena sings the next verbatim. They know every single word, not missing a beat. It's like a duet almost, and it's fucking amazing.

The remainder of the show keeps the energy up, rocking hard and fast through "Tattooed Dancer", "Miracle Man", "Suicide Solution", "Iron Man", and "Crazy Train", ending with "Paranoid." Ozzy rips his shirt somewhere during the show, but you don't quite see it. The head of the person in front of you blocks the event from your view. One moment, his shirt is completely intact, then the next, it's almost torn in half. The band slams out the final chords and beats of the song, with Ozzy landing on his knees as this all comes to an end.

"Thank you! Goodnight! We love you all!" Ozzy shouts, bringing the show to a satisfying close. The audience lets out one final round of screams and applause, and the band makes their way to sanctuary backstage. The overhead lights come on one last time, and the mass of sweating bodies slowly files out into the lobby and parking lot of the venue.

"That was amazing!" Eddie shouts, snatching you up into his arms to give you a sloppy kiss. You're both soaked with sweat and water, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your bodies. But you melt into him all the same, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you up. His lips pull away from yours, and he gazes deep into your eyes. "Best birthday ever, princess. This was fuckin' awesome." He says sweetly, giving you another kiss before letting you stand on your own two feet. A decent amount of people have left already, leaving you standing in a large gap of the floor which is littered with crumpled plastic cups and half-eaten boxes of popcorn.

"You're welcome, Eddie. This was so much fun." You reply, and the two of you join the river of people flowing casually outside into the dark of night. You locate the car all in good time, slipping into your seats. You sit here for a little while to let the lot clear out a bit first. Eddie lights a couple cigarettes again, and you take yours as always. "You excited for the second part of your present, baby?" You ask, taking a long drag of your cig.

"There's more?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Of course, Eds. I didn't get us a hotel room for no reason." You reply casually, smirking at his eyes widening when he realizes what you're getting at.

"And...what exactly are we gonna do in said hotel room?" He asks darkly, his damp hair brushing against you as he leans into your space.

"Oh...you'll see." You reply in a flirty tone, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Mmm, you're gettin' too good at hiding things from me, love. Should I be worried?" He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with lust.

"Not at all. I only hide fun surprises, I promise." You close the gap between you, roughly biting on Eddie's bottom lip. He groans against you, reaching a hand around to cradle the back of your head. You resist the urge to climb over the seats to straddle him. Instead, you creep your hand along his thigh, moving closer to palm his cock through his jeans. Once you reach it, you feel him grow in your grasp as you give him a light squeeze.

"Don't tease, sweetheart. I'd hate to have to fuck you in the middle of the parking lot." He says breathlessly, lowering his lips to kiss your neck. He nibbles the flesh with his teeth, marking you with a fresh hickey.

"Mmm, it's nothing we haven't done before, Eds." You sigh, tilting your head to give him better access.

"You're not wrong, baby. But I'm sure whatever your filthy mind has planned is much more exciting than having rushed sex in the family car." He speaks lowly in your ear, his hand raising to grab a handful of your breast. You moan quietly, the sound making his dick twitch. "C'mon, angel. Let's go check in, so I can properly fuck your brains out." He pulls away from you entirely, making you whine at the loss of him.

"Anything for you, love." You turn on the engine, almost speeding out of the parking lot as most of the cars have gone now. You finish your cigarette, relying on the nicotine to keep your head on straight. All you can think about is everything you plan to do to Eddie once you reach the hotel. You've got a few new toys to play with, as well as an extra special surprise to cater to Eddie's tastes. You can't wait to see the look on his face when you show him, it's going to blow his mind.

Part 28.2: Let Me Put My Love Into You

"Ugh, we really got soaked, huh?" Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably in his clothes as you enter your hotel room. You flick on the light, finding a nice large bed and the typical amenities inside.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting that." You reply with a giggle, tossing your bags onto the floor beside the bed. Eddie closes the door behind you, and you turn to look at him. "How 'bout you lose the clothes, babe?" You suggest, biting your lip.

"Sure thing, sweetheart." He smirks, immediately peeling his shirt up and over his head. It falls to the floor in a damp pile, and the moisture left on his pale skin glistens in the dim light of the room. You keep your own clothes on, for now, sitting in a chair to watch Eddie undress. "Enjoying the show?" He asks cheekily, undoing his belt.

"Mhm. You're so sexy, baby." You devour him with your eyes, resisting the urge to pounce on him right this second. He kicks off his shoes, removing his wet socks with an odd look on his face. He then slides his jeans and boxers down together, stepping out of them to put himself completely nude before you. "Fuck." Your pupils fall to his dick, which has already begun to grow in all the excitement. Eddie chuckles at your hungry stare. You snap yourself out of it, needing to take control here. You've got this whole thing painstakingly planned out, and there's no time to waste. "Lay down on the bed for me, Eds." You say softly, and he obeys. He lays over the covers, his head resting casually on the pillows.

"What are you gonna do to me, princess?" He teases as you purposefully get out of your seat and walk over to him. You stand near the head of the bed, reaching down to caress Eddie's cheek with feather-light pressure. You smile down at him, which he returns.

"Anything you want. I do have some ideas, though..." You answer, backing away from him again. You go around to the other side of the bed to your overnight bag, unzipping it to pull out the first of your 'ideas'. A brand new pair of handcuffs you bought together, stronger and sturdier than Eddie's previous pair. You show them to him, and his smile grows wider.

"Are we using those on you....or me?" He asks, hoping they're meant for him. It seems you've got a concise plan of what you want to do tonight, and he's very eager to let you have your way.

"You, of course." You say matter-of-factly, going to him once more. "Hands up." You say politely, and he gladly obeys your order. Your eyes flick to his length again, noticing he's completely erect now. And you're only getting started. "Good boy." You praise, clicking the cuffs around his wrists. He hisses slightly at the tightness, making you worried that you've overdone them. "Too tight?" You ask, fully prepared to remove them and start over.

"No, love. They're perfect." He grins, waiting for your next move. You set his bound hands down above his head, returning to your bag. You pick it up off the floor, walking towards the bathroom. "Where ya goin', angel?" He asks, hoping you won't leave him all alone for long.

"Just changing into something more comfortable, Eddie. Be patient for me, okay?" You speak seductively, before closing the door so he can't see what you're up to. You set the bag on the counter, digging out the special costume you've been working on for this occasion. You've decided to dress up as Taarna from Heavy Metal, the sexy warrior with skimpy armor and silver-gray hair who defeated the dreaded Loc-Nar. Robin helped you put this ensemble together, sewing and painting and constructing some pieces out of cardboard. It's definitely very DIY, but overall, it looks pretty badass. You know Eddie's going to love this, and you can't help feeling extremely excited yourself.

You happily remove your soiled clothes, letting them pile lazily onto the tile floor for the time being. You put on the strapless black bra and panties first, and then the boots and red covers, the single, arm-length leather glove, and the shoulder piece. You do your best to copy Taarna's makeup, and top everything off with the wig, fixing it atop your head as seamlessly as you can. You give yourself a final once-over, unable to stop staring at your perfect ass as it's totally exposed in these unbelievably revealing underwear. You take a deep breath, oddly nervous as to what Eddie might think of you like this. You turn to the door, deciding to bite the bullet and open it already. You step into the room, putting yourself at the foot of the bed for Eddie to get a good look at you. You pose confidently, setting your gloved hand on your hip.

"Holy shit." Eddie murmurs, completely blown away by you. You're absolutely gorgeous, bringing one of his favorite fantasy characters to life.

"That good, huh?" You ask, failing to fight off a harsh blush. Your eyes lock onto his, and he can't stop staring at you.

"Really good, sweetheart." He replies in disbelief, this has to be a dream or something. "You wanna turn around for me?" He asks, his tongue playing at the edge of his smile.

"Anything for the birthday boy." You rasp. You slowly rotate yourself in a small circle, letting him eat up every morsel of your perfect body.

He whistles when he sees your butt swallowing up the thin material of your panties. "I'll never get enough of that ass, baby."

"You want me to get things going, or are you gonna stare at me all night?" You ask somewhat impatiently, though you don't mind standing here while Eddie admires every inch of you.

"You're in control here, Y/N. I'm at your mercy." Eddie says, sounding a little needy now. His cock is leaking precum, just the thought of what you might do to him tonight is driving him wild.

"That's what I like to hear, baby." You smirk, gingerly placing your hands on the bed to start crawling over to him. He watches you with hungry eyes, and you inch your way over until your body is positioned directly above his. His breath comes out fast and shallow, he's highly anticipating your first real move of the night. Your palms rest on either side of his torso, and your knees sit outside his own. Your wig hangs low, framing your face in silver strands. You lower your head to give him a gentle kiss, though he attempts to deepen it. You pull away, swatting his inner thigh with your hand. "Naughty boy." You scold, and he moans at the sting of your flesh smacking his.

"I'm sorry, love. I just want you so bad." Eddie quickly apologizes, needing you to touch him. All this waiting is taking a serious toll on him.

"Oh, I'm aware. I'll let you off with a warning this time. Consider it a bonus gift." You speak so confidently, completely taking charge of this scenario. You've spent enough time practicing in the mirror, so this shouldn't be difficult to keep up. "But, if you disobey me again, you won't get a damn thing. Understand?" You question, your tone nice and low to hold his attention. He rapidly nods his head, but he has to say the words. "Answer me, Eddie. You have to promise you'll do everything I ask."

"I promise, I'll be good, Y/N. I'm sorry, just...please. I need you, princess." Your pussy throbs at the pleading in his voice, that high-pitched crack that lets you know exactly how much he craves you.

"Oh, alright. Since you asked so nicely." You give him a mischievous grin, dragging your hand over onto his chest. His breath catches at the contact, his eyes following your movements. You trail your fingers down lower and lower, over his abs, his stomach, along his little happy trail. All the way to the very center of him, just barely brushing your fingertips along his length.

"Fuck." He groans, his hips bucking up at the contact.

"Stay still, my love." You order, and he does his best to follow your rules. You ghost your digits over him, up and down in little whispering motions. Eddie lets out the most perfectly tortured noises as you do this, all of which make your cunt extremely wet. Your touch feels so good against him, but it's not nearly enough. "You want more, Eds?" You ask, flicking your eyes to his as you continue to loom over him.

"Yes, Y/N. For the love of God, do something...anything." He whines, nearly on the verge of tears. You've never seen him so worked up, you almost feel a little bad about it. Almost.

"Such a filthy boy, so needy for my hands, my mouth, my pussy. Which would you like, birthday boy?" You ask, bringing your index finger to the head of his cock. You spread the little bead of precum around, making him whimper beneath you. Fuck, he sounds so sexy like this. So fucked for me, desperate and pathetic. I can't get enough, and he's making me so fucking wet.

"Y-Your mouth. Please." Eddie stutters, breathing shakily as your finger continues to circle lightly around his tip.

"You're so polite, Eds. Such a good boy for me." You praise, giving him another kiss before scooting yourself down the bed.

"Wait." Eddie pipes up, making you stop in your tracks. You gaze at him, wondering what the problem is.

"What is it, baby?" You question.

"Can you sit on my face while you do that? I wanna make you feel good, sweetheart." Eddie begs, wanting to taste your sweet nectar and make you scream his name.

"If you insist." You reply simply, standing up off the bed for a moment to remove your panties. You climb back over to position your cunt over his mouth, waiting for him to usher you downwards.

"Shit, you're fuckin' soaked, angel." Eddie moans at the sight of your arousal glistening all around your pussy.

"All for you, baby. You ready?" You ask, peeking between your legs to confirm.

"More than ready." He murmurs, licking his lips expectantly. And with that, you lower yourself to take a seat on his face. He immediately drags his tongue in long, thick stripes along your folds, making you gasp.

"Oh, Eddie." You moan, taking hold of his cock in your hand. He groans against you at your touch, holding back another buck of his hips. You savor the feeling of his tongue flicking your clit and needy hole for a moment, sensing an orgasm starting to build inside your belly. You rest on your elbows to put your mouth right above his dick, letting a long drip of spit fall from your lips. He grunts at the wetness landing on him, and you spread the saliva around with your hollowed fist. You bring your mouth closer to him, blowing cool air on his tip.

"Mmm." He moans against your core, flicking his tongue faster to pay you back for torturing him like this.

"Slow down, love." You order through a groan. He begrudgingly does as you ask, sighing in frustration as he brings down the pace again. He needs you to take him in your mouth already, he's so turned on it almost hurts. "Don't be a brat. I know you can take it." You say in warning. He's on very thin ice now, one disobedient move away from you shutting this whole thing down. You feel him nod, his tongue staying at the sedate speed you've requested. You decide that he's earned some head, and you take all of him in your mouth in one swift motion. He hits deep in the back of your throat, making you gag.

"Mmf." He grunts, relieved to finally have your hot, wet mouth on his cock. He circles around your clit, going just a little bit faster now. You whimper at the sensation, rolling your hips to grind against his face. You bob your head up and down on Eddie's length, savoring the beautiful noises he makes against your cunt. The vibrations feel so good, and every passing second draws a steady trickle of arousal from you. Eddie drinks up every last drop, a sticky mess of your juices forming around his cheeks and chin.

You draw off of his dick for a moment, stroking him with your hand to tide him over. "You're doing so well for me, Eds. Your mouth is fuckin' magic." You praise, returning to your task for the time being. You suck him harder and faster, twirling your tongue around his cock and hollowing your cheeks.

"Mmm." He moans again, there's not much room for words with you riding his face. You keep rolling your hips, meeting his tongue-strokes expertly. You're getting close already, all your teasing, kissing, and dancing earlier has really built you up. But you want Eddie to cum first, it's sure to be a very intense experience for him, and you can't wait to hear the helpless sounds of his orgasm muffled against your silk. You push yourself to speed up, making your eyes water at how far his length is lodged in your esophagus. His thighs have begun to twitch beneath you, you grip them tightly to hold yourself upright as his tongue is unraveling your mind.

Eddie's moans get louder against you, signaling his oncoming release. You pull away one last time, giving him some encouragement. "Cum down my throat, Eds. I fuckin' love the taste of you." You shove yourself down onto him, sucking even harder than before. Your tongue works overtime, trying to make him lose control. And then you feel it, Eddie inhales sharply, before releasing an obscenely loud moan between your thighs.

"Mmm!" His hips jolt upwards, choking you further. His load spills down your throat, the taste so goddamn sweet. You swallow it all, still blowing him through his high. You pull away once he goes soft, letting him fall out of your mouth.

"Good boy, Eds一 fuck." You whimper as Eddie picks up the pace on you now. You allow him to take control in this small way, he did so well for you when you played with him. Plus, you would absolutely love to soak his face. You lay your torso over his lower half, allowing yourself to fully relax into this position. Eddie licks and sucks your clit, drawing whines and moans from your lips. You cry out his name, and call him a good boy over and over. You're getting closer, and he shoves his tongue inside your pussy, stroking your g-spot with ease. "God, Eddie. You feel so good inside me, fuck me harder with your tongue." You plead, pushing yourself closer to his face. He starts darting his tongue in and out of you, using all the force such a flimsy muscle can possess. "Yes, just like that, baby. Such a perfectly filthy boy for me, eating my pussy like your life depends on it. You love how sweet I taste, don't you?" You speak as seductively as you can through your moans.

"Mhm." Eddie hums in reply, delighted by your vulgar words. He wishes he could use his hands to pull you even closer, hold you as tight against his mouth as possible. But you're keeping up a steady rhythm, grinding yourself into him mercilessly. It's getting a little hard to breathe, though he can't be bothered to give a shit. He could be completely suffocated between your thighs and die a happy man. He can feel you nearing the edge, all your tells on full display. Your breath coming out hot and labored against his thighs, your nails digging into his skin as you cling to him, the sweet sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips. It won't be long now, if only he had the capacity to egg you on with his velvet-smooth voice. But flicking his tongue harder and faster around your silken folds will have to do.

"Oh, fuck. I'm getting so close, Eddie. You gonna swallow all my cum like a good boy?" You ask, waiting for ecstasy to take you over.

"Mhm." He hums in reply, the vibrations making your walls flutter. Fuck, I'm already getting hard again. She's unbelievable tonight, so dominant over me...I love her like this. Hell, I love her in every conceivable way. But this? This is fantastic... Eddie dwells on his thoughts, working his tongue sore to bring you to bliss. Everything you've been doing tonight is so amazing to him, the concert, this outfit, the bad, bad things you have in store... His head is dizzy with lust, and his heart overflows with more love for you than he ever thought he could possess.

"Fuck, Eds. You're gonna make me cum..." You pant, digging your nails into his legs to hold onto him as you hit your peak. "Fuck!" You cry out, your thighs quaking, hips bucking roughly into Eddie's face. Delicious waves of pleasure spread throughout your body, and you can hear your arousal splashing messily into your love's mouth. He groans at the taste, trying not to waste a single drop. It's a bit difficult, though, as some manages to get into his nose. You slump forwards slightly, allowing him to lift his head up so he doesn't drown. He gasps in air, almost coughing at how much you've drenched him. You ride out your high, still clinging to him the whole way. Heavy breaths escape you, traces of moans and incoherent calls of his name with every exhale. Your eyes fall shut, you're too blinded by stars to see anything anyway. You feel your body slowly relax after a while, your heartbeat following suit.

"Did I do a good job for you, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, licking your juices from his lips. His eyes roll back at the renewed taste.

"Yes, Eds. So fuckin' good. My good boy." You sigh in satisfaction. You carefully get on your knees, lifting your body off of his. You turn to face him, finding his gorgeous face shining with your juices. "Damn, I really did a number on you." You say with a giggle.

"I loved every second of it, babydoll." He gives you a warm smile. "Are you done playing? Or is there more?" He questions, unable to withhold his curiosity.

"Oh, believe me, I am far from done with you." You smirk, putting your face before his. You give him a tantalizing kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his plush lips. He follows your lead, twisting his head to meet your languid movements. You slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling with his. Out of habit, he tries to dominate you. But you don't give up the fight, eventually earning a victory. Partially due to your persistence, and partially because Eddie's tongue is pretty tired from eating you out. You pull away, taking his breath with you. You gaze into his eyes, finding deep admiration within his pupils.

"What's next on the agenda, love?" Eddie asks softly. He's very eager to see what your evil genius mind has cooked up.

"I'll show you, and then I'll give you two choices. Okay?" You explain. You know what you have in mind might be a bit too much for him, at least for right now. To be fair, you'd picked out all your new 'props' as a team, ensuring the both of you would be okay with using them, as well as having them used on yourselves. But there's no real telling which option Eddie will be in the mood for, until you ask.

"You got it, angel." He nods, and you step off the bed again to dig around in your bag of tricks. You retrieve a bottle of lube, a silicone dildo, and a strap-on harness. His eyes widen a bit, but you can't tell if he's excited...or afraid. "And what do you plan to do with those, Y/N?" He asks, swallowing hard.

"Well, like I said...you've got two options. I can ride you and put this in my ass at the same time. Or, I can put it in the harness and fuck you instead." You explain casually, holding the objects in your hands like they're the most ordinary things in the world. On the inside, you're a little nervous that he won't go for the idea you truly want. But it's his day, so he gets to make the choice.

"Eager to try out our new toys, huh?" He grins, noticing the small crack in your confidence at his temporary silence. You put out this air of self-assurance, but he can see a glimpse of uncertainty in your eyes. He can tell exactly which option you want him to choose. But even as you stand before him, holding the shiny new items in your hands, you could never bring yourself to directly ask him for it. You know how hard it is for a man to let himself be penetrated, it's honestly pretty unheard of to most. Then again, Eddie did take a certain shine to the strap-on in the store, his eyes sparkling at the possibility of you being inside him for once.

"M-Maybe a little." You stutter, realizing that he sees right through you. He thinks it over for another minute or so, before deciding to say 'fuck it' and make the very most out of this impossibly amazing night.

"You really wanna fuck me, Y/N?" He asks coyly, needing to hear you say it out loud.

"Yes." You reply, gaining a bit of your confidence back with Eddie's reassurance that he would never judge you.

"'Yes', what?" Eddie asks darkly, pushing you to spell it all out for him. You fall into your leading role again, retaking the reins that you temporarily gave to him. You bring yourself over to him again, objects in hand. You climb back up to straddle his thighs, a sinful look spread across your face. You bring your lips just centimeters from his, holding his attention with lust-blown eyes.

"Yes, I want to fuck you, Eddie. I want to be inside you, make you scream my name. I want to make you my slut." You speak nice and low, ending with a breathy chuckle. You feel yourself getting wet again.

"Knock yourself out, sweetheart. I'd love to have you inside me." Eddie replies, absolutely elated at your regained boldness.

"That's what I like to hear, Eds. You wanna spread your legs for me?" You politely order, getting off of him to allow him to move. You kneel before him on the bed, watching him get into position. He tents his knees, his legs spread as open as he can manage. "Perfect." You praise, setting the toys down and clicking open the bottle of lube. You scoot closer to Eddie, while holding up a finger to squirt some of the cool liquid onto it. "I'm gonna loosen you up a little bit first. You okay with that?" You ask, still giving him a chance to back out. You search his expression for any sliver of doubt, but you find none.

"Yes, baby. I'd actually prefer that, as opposed to shoving that big thing in me right away." He laughs, attempting to point at the dildo laying in wait on the mattress from the confines of the handcuffs.

"Oh, it's not that big. You are much bigger than that, and I take you just fine." You retort, focusing on the task at hand. You bring your wetted index finger to his puckered hole. He tenses up slightly, drawing in a sharp breath when the cold liquid meets his flesh. "You okay?" You can't help checking in every step of the way. This is all so new for both of you.

"Yeah." He nods. "Go ahead, love. I'm ready." He adds, anticipating the feeling of you entering him. You decide to just get this over with already, and slowly push through his tight entrance. "Oh, my god." He moans as you carefully slide into his ass, all the way to the knuckle.

"How's that feel, baby?" You ask, your pussy throbbing at his response to your touch.

"Different...but pretty good so far." He says, taking a deep breath. "You can move now, if you want." You do as he suggests, gradually pumping your finger in and out of his tight hole. "Fuck, Y/N. Faster." He groans, noticing there's a particular spot inside him that feels amazing when you brush against it. You follow his request again, picking up the pace. He moans even louder, and a wave of heat washes over you. You're actually doing it. You're inside him, and he likes it.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Eddie? Should I add another?" You ask, thinking a little extra stretch couldn't hurt.

"Yes, please. This feels so fuckin' good." Eddie pants, and you messily squirt some more lube onto your middle finger to join the first one. You push it inside his asshole, and another vulgar noise rips itself from his lungs. His eyes are locked into yours, he can't believe how hot this is.

"You're taking my fingers so well, baby. I think you're almost ready for me." You coo to him, fingering him a bit faster now. His eyes roll back into his head, his mouth falling open to cry out your name. "You're making such pretty noises, Eds. They're getting me so wet." You resist the urge to lower your free hand to rub your clit as you rile him up. The display before you is surely the most attractive Eddie has ever been. Totally at your mercy, allowing you to fill up one of his most sensitive areas.

"I think I'm ready now, Y/N." Eddie says, anxious to feel all five inches of silicone deep inside himself.

"You got it." You reply, slowly removing your fingers now. You wipe the excess lube onto his inner thigh, you'll need to clean up later anyway. You pick up the dildo and harness, carefully maneuvering the toy through the round hole in the leathery fabric. The anticipation is rapidly growing between you, and you hastily slip the harness over yourself like a pair of panties. There's also a little something for you in this particular toy. A bullet vibrator is embedded inside the crotch, powered by a small battery pack that slips into a pouch on the side of the harness. This way, both you and Eddie can get off as you fuck him. You flick on the switch, immediately feeling the strong vibrations against your clit. "Oh, god." You gasp, your hands falling to grip his knees for a second.

"Does it feel good, angel?" Eddie asks cooly. You've never used a vibrator before, and it's definitely a bit intense. You're bound to cum multiple times during this little game.

"Uh-huh. Jesus Christ, this thing is powerful." You laugh awkwardly, trying to keep it together. You scoot yourself forward, and pour a ton of lube onto the dildo that's now attached to your body. It feels a bit odd, to see...something sticking out from your crotch. But it also turns you on beyond belief. You lower your body over his, spreading the lube around with your hand. You then hold the base of the toy in place as you put your pelvis close to his. You bring the tip to his entrance, looking in his eyes for confirmation again.

"Go ahead, baby. I know you want to." He says sweetly, fully prepared to take your fake dick inside of him. You don't waste another second, pressing the rubbery tip through his puckered hole. You go slow, allowing him time to get used to the size before you start thrusting. "Fuck, baby. You're so big." He says through a hiss, his teeth clenching and eyes screwing shut. You know he doesn't mean it as a joke, but his phrase in regards to your 'size' makes you giggle a little bit. He opens his eyes, realizing how that sounded. He chuckles with you, which allows his body to relax and take you in full. You eventually bottom out, completely inserted into Eddie now.

"Look at you, taking me so well like a good boy." You praise seductively, planting a warm kiss on his lips to give him a small breather. The vibrator is doing wonders for you, it won't take long for you to cum again. But you ignore the pleasure for now, focusing on keeping Eddie relaxed.

"You can move now, love. I need you." He pleads, his tone only adding to your pleasure. But you can't give in that easily.

"Beg for it." You order, raising a hand to wrap your fingers around his neck. His pupils widen further, realizing just how in charge you want to be.

"What?" He asks, taken aback by your continued teasing.

"Beg me to fuck you, Eds. Tell me just how much you want it." You command darkly, bringing your other hand up to cup his cheek. You look at him with hooded eyes, patiently waiting for him to do as you ask.

"Please, baby. Fuck my ass, I want you so bad. You feel so good inside me." Eddie whines, the pathetic sound going straight to your head.

"That's a good little slut." You growl through a moan, before pulling your hips away and slamming back into him.

"Oh, god!" Eddie shouts, your thrust stimulates his prostate in the most amazing way. "More, baby...please, fuck...so good." He's overwhelmed by how intense this is, everything feels too fucking good.

"You got it, Eds." You pant, holding back your orgasm as you place your free hand on his hip. You squeeze his throat, cutting off his oxygen. And then you start thrusting your hips as best you can. It's not very easy for you, you're not used to making this type of motion with your body. But it's simple enough once you get the hang of it. You sense your high approaching, however, which is making it difficult to concentrate. "Oh, fuck. I'm gonna cum, baby." You huff, still smacking your pelvis against his ass as your bliss overtakes you. "Shit!" You whine, doing everything in your power to keep your knees from buckling. Your thighs shake regardless of your efforts, which makes your jerk the toy haphazardly inside Eddie's asshole.

"Oh, fuck! Keep doing that. Ah...shit. I'm getting close already, angel." Eddie whimpers, the words barely escaping as you continue to choke him.

You're still riding out your orgasm, rolling your hips into him the whole way. Your arousal soaks through the harness, fluids spilling down your thighs and his. "Don't cum yet, baby. Not until I say you can." You command, though it comes out sounding rather weak and shaky. You're still riding your high, which will undoubtedly build rapidly into another while you fuck Eddie as hard as you can manage. You lessen your grip on his neck, allowing him to speak.

"I'll try, sweetheart. Gonna be pretty difficult, though." Eddie pants, wishing he had his hands free to hold you closer to him.

"I know you can do it, Eddie. You're such a good boy, letting me fuck your ass like this. You like being my little slut, baby?"

"Yes, angel. This feels amazing, you have no idea." He replies breathlessly, the blood rushing back to his head now. You smash your lips onto his, wanting to be closer to him. You keep up your pace, rolling your hips to have the vibrator hit your clit just right. You moan against each other, going wild inside at the overpowering sensations you're both feeling. You break away from his lips, though yours still brush against them. You look deep into his eyes, smiling like the devil herself.

"Tell me you're my little slut." You command playfully, hungry to hear the words from his own mouth.

"I'm your little slut, Y/N. You fuck me so good...holy shit." His eyes fall shut again, you can tell he’s almost there. You squeeze his throat again, stealing his breath away.

"I didn't say you can cum yet, Eds. And I don't think you want to disobey me." You regain his attention, fear in his eyes of what you might do to punish him. His garbled moans and whines push you over the edge again. "Shit..." You gasp, your breath catching in your throat as your third orgasm crashes into you. You buck your hips sloppily again, making Eddie squeal as your grip loosens on his neck. Another dose of arousal spills from you, falling wetly onto the bed.

"I'm tryin' to hold it, angel. Everything just feels so goddamn perfect." He replies, doing his best to listen to your orders. He's coated in sweat, as are you. But as your third orgasm of the evening subsides, you find yourself wanting one more before Eddie completely loses it.

"Just a little longer, baby. You're taking my cock so well. Be a good boy, I'll let you cum soon." You reply, letting go of his neck entirely to grip his other hip. Using his waist as leverage, you proceed to snap your hips as you pound yourself into him.

"Fuck, Y/N! Oh...You're gonna kill me, baby. I can't hold it much longer..." Eddie calls out breathlessly. He's trying to be good, to hold off on losing control. He knows what will happen if he disobeys you, and he refuses to be defeated so easily.

"Almost there一 shit. We can cum together, love. Such a good boy for me, I know how badly you want it." You encourage him to hold on a tiny bit longer, hoping your praise is enough. You're very close to your own high again. Your pussy sparking from the continued stimulation. Just a few more seconds, that's all you need. "Cum for me, baby...oh, fuck! EDDIE!" You scream when you're taken down by bliss yet again. Your thighs jolt violently, which makes you hit all the right angles inside Eddie's asshole, sending him over the edge.

"Y/N! Oh, Jesus...shit一 FUCK!" Eddie's stomach tenses, and he takes in a ragged gasp, before letting out the loudest moan you've ever heard from him. His toes curl, and his sticky load spurts out of his cock and onto his stomach and chest. He tugs against the dildo in his euphoria, extending the pleasure further. You watch his expression twist into beautiful shapes, all of which illustrate just how good you've made him feel.

"Mmm, my good boy. You did so well, my perfect little slut." You coo, stroking his sweat-slicked face with your gloved hand. You're still inside of him, but you flick the switch on the battery pack to turn off the vibrator. You've had more than enough now, and the stimulation is getting to be too much. You both come down from your final highs, exchanging a few loving kisses. "Did you like that, Eddie?" You ask, somehow still unconvinced that he's actually enjoyed himself.

"Yes, sweetheart. It was fuckin' amazing. Did you have fun being in charge?" He asks with a grin.

"Mhm, it was great. I felt so...powerful." You reply, grinning giddily at how fantastic it was to take total control.

"I'm glad, princess. You were phenomenal, I couldn't get enough. You're such a strong, smart, sexy woman. I love you, baby." He speaks lovingly, unable to stop smiling. Tonight has been so fun for the both of you. Playing together, trying new things, it's everything you've dreamed about as a couple.

"I love you too, Eds." You reply warmly, giving him one last kiss before you attempt to pull out. You look down between your legs, thinking over how best to do this. "I'm gonna slowly pull out so we can clean up. Just keep still and relax, okay?" You instruct, looking at him for confirmation.

"Sure thing, love." He says softly, taking a deep breath before you try to move. He nods to give you the go ahead, and you gradually remove the dildo from his tight hole. He groans at the feeling, but he insists you keep going to get it out already. Once you get the toy all the way out, he exhales deeply with puffed cheeks. "Fuckin' A. I'll have to get used to that." He laughs, doing his best to sit up in bed. He brings his bound arms down to his lap. "You mind lettin' me outta these, babydoll?" He asks politely.

"Of course, love." You hop off the bed again, still wearing the strap-on. You dig around in your bag, finding the tiny set of keys. You let his hands free, and he rubs the tender flesh of his wrists. "You bruised at all?" You ask, hoping you didn't go too hard.

"Nah, all good. Just a little sore, but it's to be expected." He reassures you, before dragging his eyes along your body. His pupils settle on your imitation cock, and he chuckles at the sight.

"What?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. You notice his eyes peering downwards, and you follow their direction to see that you're still sporting the purple silicone between your legs. "Oh." You giggle, blushing slightly. You take the harness off, letting it fall beside you on the bed for the time being. "You wanna take a shower, Eds? We've made quite the mess." You say, eyes flicking to the glistening streaks of white on Eddie's torso.

"Yes, please. I'm so goddamn sticky, it's a little gross...even for me." He replies, letting you lead him by the hand to the bathroom. You turn on the water, and strip off the rest of your costume. You take the wig off first, it was getting a little itchy. Next is the armor and boots, ending with the bra. You stand naked before Eddie, his caring eyes eating up your every inch. "My gorgeous girl, you do so much for me." He coos, putting his hand on your waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, enjoying this moment of closeness. He brushes a stray hair behind your ear, looking deep into your eyes. "You are the best girlfriend in the entire world, you know that?"

"Only because you tell me so all the time, my love. Which, among other things, makes you the best boyfriend, too." You return his adoring gaze, smiling like the sun. You share a tender kiss, and he leads you backwards into the glass-door shower. He presses your body against the tile wall as the water soaks your bodies, slicking away some of the sweat and cum you've accumulated. He lowers a hand to slip two fingers to your clit, making you moan against his mouth. "Eddie, please. Don't you think we've had enough?" You ask, though the arousal gathering on his digits betrays your protest.

"I can stop if you want, babydoll. But I didn't get a chance to touch you at all, it was driving me insane." He breathes heavily, and you can feel his dick poking into your stomach. You're surprised he's still up for more, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't as well.

"I suppose I didn't get to have your cock inside me, either. If you really have it in you, go nuts, baby." You offer just as his fingers slip inside your pussy. "Eddie." You moan, roughly gripping his shoulders

"Sounds like you've got it in you, too, sweetheart." He chuckles darkly, moving his mouth to suck on your neck.

"Shit, baby...You're so needy tonight." You whimper, allowing him to be in the driver's seat now. You've had your fair share of control, you may as well give Eddie a turn.

"Only for you, and this soaked pussy of yours. You want me to fuck you, angel?" He asks, pumping his digits in and out of you at a steady pace. He's riling you up, it's nothing substantial.

"Yes." You pant, dragging your nails along his back now. He groans at the sting, biting down hard on your throat.

"Then beg me, princess. Beg me to fuck your pretty little brains out." He commands, using his other hand to harshly tweak your nipple.

"Please fuck me, Eddie. I need you inside me, to make me scream your name." You plead, and he immediately removes his fingers from your cunt.

"Turn around, babe." He orders simply, and you do as he asks. Your back is facing him, and he suddenly pushes your front into the wall. You gasp in surprise, your head turned to the side. Eddie presses his body into yours, his hands caressing your hips, back, and ass. You moan quietly at his movements, waiting for him to enter you. "God, you've become such a filthy whore, Y/N. Costumes, toys, calling me a slut? You are an impeccable woman, sweetheart." He speaks lowly in your ear, his tone a breathy growl.

"It's all for you, Eds. I couldn't do all that for anyone else." You reply, telling him exactly how much he means to you, how you truly enjoy everything you do together.

"Good. Because you...are mine." He says as he takes hold of his length. He moves closer to your entrance, shoving his stiff cock into you on his final words.

"Fuck!" You shout, taken by surprise. He immediately starts hammering into you, grunting directly in your ear. It appears he's had enough of the teasing and wants to get right into it, and you're certainly not complaining. You press your hands into the wall, giving yourself a little bit of leverage. But Eddie quickly snatches them, holding them together behind your back. He presses himself into you even more, trapping you against the wall.

"You're so fuckin' wet, baby. Is this all for me, my sweet girl?" He asks, huffing out the words. He's fucking into you so hard, quickly building you up to a fifth orgasm. You want it so bad, the tip of his dick is brushing your g-spot just right, fast and hard exactly the way you like.

"All for you, Eddie. Only for you." You whimper, savoring the sensation of him ramming into you again and again. You can barely think straight, and you've got absolutely no control over your body. Eddie's got you completely pinned to the tiles, you couldn't keep your balance even if you tried. Your feet barely sit flat on the floor of the shower, and if he backs up even a little bit, you're bound to fall over.

"That's right...you're all mine. Such a good girl for me...taking my cock like a perfect little slut." Eddie groans, nearing his end again already. You've taken him to a whole new place tonight, and he can't help replaying the highlights of what transpired a few minutes ago as he rails your slick cunt. His thrusts start to lose focus, his moans coming out harsher than before against your ear. You can tell he's close, and you're not far behind him.

"Fuck me harder, baby. I wanna feel you cum with me." You beg, your walls beginning to flutter around his aching length. He does as you ask, his hips stinging your ass as he thrusts rougher and faster than before. You feel tears pooling in your eyes from the pleasure, it's almost too much. You let out cries and whimpers beyond your control, sprinkling in an occasional utterance of his name.

"Shit, Y/N. I'm gonna make a mess inside this tight little pussy. Let it all go for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel you cum all over my cock...FUCK!" Eddie's stomach tenses, and his pelvis bucks into you hard enough to make your ass sting. His grip on you tightens, and you reach your high as his sticky load spills into you.

"Eddie!" You cry out, your insides clamping down on his length. He groans at the sensation, pushing himself to keep thrusting through your orgasms. Your head falls backwards over Eddie's shoulder, helpless noises tearing themselves from your lungs. Your thighs tremble once again, much more erratic this time around. You feel like you've caught fire from the inside out, and you can't comprehend anything except the intense pleasure coursing through you. You soak Eddie's cock, you can hear your release splashing loudly onto the tiles beneath your feet. His breath hitches at the feeling of you drenching him, his eyes briefly rolling back into his head.

Eddie holds you upright as he becomes still inside you, you've essentially melted into a puddle at this point. He watches as tears roll down your cheeks, your eyes staring widely at the ceiling. Your mouth sits slightly agape, panting heavily. "You okay, angel?" He asks, slowly bringing you back down to earth. You set your head upright, nodding slightly.

"Yeah, I'm alright." You answer, letting him lean your body against his until you can stand up straight. Once your bones solidify again, you both finish up your shower, and clean up your dirty clothes and toys. You put on some pajamas, and cuddle together on the bed. "So, you wanna order some pizza?" You ask, realizing you haven't eaten much at all today.

"Yes, that sounds so fuckin' good right now." Eddie groans, suddenly feeling hungrier than he ever thought possible.

"I'm on it, baby." You say, giving him a light peck before going to the phone. You look up the number for the local pizza place, which is luckily open all night. You place the order, and jump right back into bed once the food is on its way. "All set, love. Happy birthday." You say, settling into Eddie's hold. He squeezes you firmly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you, sweetheart. I know I said it already, but I think it's worth repeating. Best. Birthday. Ever." He says softly, the two of you humming in contentment as you wait for your dinner.

To be continued...

#fanfiction #hippiegoth97 #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you

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