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witchslove · 13 hours ago

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Study Sessions

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: You and Wanda have been best friends since your first semester of college. When you have to take a physics class, Wanda is more than happy to help you study, but your late night study sessions blur the lines between friendship and romance.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; bottom!wanda maximoff, top!reader, fingering (w receiving), oral (w receiving), wanda’s first time with a woman, slight angst, jealousy

A/N: Save me college Wanda, college Wanda save me…

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The sun beamed down on you as you walked across campus, sweat forming on the back of your neck from the heat.

You had just finished your first day of classes for the semester and you were feeling confident about all of them, except for one. Even as an English major, you were stuck taking a physics class to complete some general requirements for graduation.

You could handle the most complex forms of literature on a bad day, but when it came to math and science, you found yourself feeling a little lost.

The good news was that your roommate and best friend, Wanda Maximoff, was a physics major. Wanda was everything you wanted to be - naturally smart, driven, focused, and incredibly organized.

She was also the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on, long brown hair that was somehow even softer than it looked, stunning green eyes that sometimes made you nervous under her gaze, and the perfect body - since you shared a room, you’d seen her undress before, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to look like her or fuck her brains out.

You constantly pushed down any desires you felt towards Wanda since she was your best friend, telling yourself your friendship was far too valuable to risk just because you occasionally had confusing feelings towards her.

The two of you had known each other since you both started college. You were roommates your first semester and instantly became close, despite your contrasting personalities. Where you were more relaxed and laid back when it came to your studies, Wanda was very serious. It made sense though, her major was far more demanding than yours was and she always worked hard to maintain her perfect GPA.

You’d always admired Wanda and found that you could no longer envision your life without her by your side. She was easily the best friend you’d ever had; she was supportive when you needed it and stayed on top of you when you felt like slacking. Wanda was extremely likable and you felt honored that she considered you her closest friend as well.

When you finally made it back to your dorm, you sighed as you felt the cool air inside. You headed to your room and unlocked the door, stepping through the threshold to the familiar sight of Wanda studying. You smiled to yourself; it was only the first day of classes and she was already trying to learn as much as she could.

“Hey,” you greeted, setting your things down and plopping into your bed, taking a moment to relax.

“Hi,” Wanda said back, turning in her chair to face you. “How was your first day?”

“It was good,” you responded, looking over at her from your bed. “My professors seem cool, most of my classes don’t seem too hard. What about you?”

“Not too bad, although my nuclear and particle physics class might kick my ass this semester,” Wanda chuckled.

“Is that what you’re over there studying already?” You teased her, gesturing to the open books on her desk.

“Yeah, it’s actually pretty interesting. I want to get ahead this semester so I have more time to hang out with you and do fun stuff,” she explained.

“That’s good. I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you’re trying not to go to a party with me,” you joked, bringing a smile to her face. “Or maybe you could use some of that extra time to help me out, I’m stuck taking a physics class this semester and I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Oh, which one?” Wanda asked, her interest piqued.

“Classical mechanics I think,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed at needing help with one of the most basic physics courses.

“That’s a fun one,” she commented. “I’d be glad to help detka.”

That was another thing about Wanda. She often called you pet names, in a friendly way of course, but it made your heart flutter every time she did it.

“Okay cool, thank you. Maybe we can have a study session at the library tomorrow if you’re not too busy with classes?” you asked, knowing you only had one class to worry about in the morning.

Wanda turned towards her desk to flip through a binder, checking her schedule. “I have a morning class and one in the afternoon, could we do 7pm?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, biting back a smile at the thought of Wanda tutoring you.

“Perfect! I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” She turned back to face you again, her expression becoming serious as she pointed a finger at you. “Ten minutes of bed-rotting time and then I want to see you reading or writing something,” she demanded, trying to motivate you to get ahead like she was.

“Okay mom,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully.

She went back to studying, taking notes as she flipped the pages of her nuclear physics textbook. You laid in bed for a few more moments, scrolling through Instagram reels, before getting up to join her in studying.

The next day, you attended your morning class and then grabbed a latte at the coffee shop on campus, deciding to review your notes as you sipped your drink, knowing it’s what Wanda would want you to do.

The rest of the day went by slowly but you managed to get some work done. You were eager for your study session with Wanda, excited to spend some time with her after the two of you had gone home for the summer and had barely seen each other.

You arrived at the library early, finding it to be relatively empty at this time of night. A few students were at the computers, but overall the library was quite vacant. You picked a spot in the corner, away from others, where you felt you’d have the most privacy and the least distractions.

You waited for Wanda, who came in a few minutes later, looking around the shelves before she spotted you.

“Hey,” she greeted as she sat down beside you, her thigh touching yours. She reached into her bag to pull out different colored pens, highlighters, sticky notes, and some of her old physics notes from when she took classical mechanics.

“Hi,” you breathed out, forcing yourself to ignore the feeling of her so close. “Someone came prepared,” you jested, making her laugh softly as she finished setting up.

“I’m here to help you, aren’t I? I have to make sure you have everything you need,” she quipped with a smile and the most adorable nose scrunch.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight; you didn’t remember it being this hard to be around Wanda, but everything she was doing was driving you crazy in the best way. You watched her for a moment as she placed everything on the table in an organized fashion, biting her lip with a focused expression on her face. You wanted nothing more than to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth and capture it with your own.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” She broke the silence, bringing you back to reality. You blushed at what you were just thinking about, nodding in response.

“Sounds good,” you managed, opening your textbook to the first chapter.

Wanda reached over to move the textbook so it was centered between the two of you and as she did so, your fingers brushed against each other. You almost shivered at the act, the soft touch feeling like too much but not enough at the same time. Wanda didn’t seem affected as she began to dig into the material, asking you what the professor had already gone over.

She somehow kept finding ways to touch you, whether it was a hand on your shoulder or her fingers grazing your own over the textbook as she pointed to pictures and paragraphs. You could barely answer her questions, the close proximity and subtle touches making you yearn for her.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda was just as affected; she was just better at hiding it. She couldn’t understand why but she kept intentionally finding ways to be closer to you. She didn’t notice the effect it was having on you, too preoccupied with steadying her own heart rate every time she felt your skin against hers.

She’d always thought you were beautiful, but this was something else. She didn’t know why she was struggling to keep her composure around you now. She’d always found comfort in your presence - you often studied together, came home drunk from parties and cuddled in the same bed, or watched movies together laying side by side, the computer across both of your laps.

Something about this study session felt weirdly intimate. She was enjoying teaching you about her passion, physics and science, and maybe that was part of it. She chalked it down to that and tried to push her feelings aside, focusing on helping you with your studies and being a good friend.

A friend - that’s what she was to you and that’s how it would stay. She couldn’t complicate something so perfect with these conflicting feelings of wanting more from you.

Despite both of you trying hard to ignore how you felt, the air was still charged, the tension still there. It wasn’t just this time either - it became a regular occurrence.

Wanda helped you with physics at least once a week and her eager guidance actually helped you grasp the subject more. You found yourself falling in love with the way her eyes would light up when you brought up a subject she knew a lot about. She was so excited every time you understood it too, feeling both accomplished that she could help and proud that you were getting it.

She found it adorable when you didn’t understand something and she loved the way your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to think harder about it. The two of you became closer than ever, which you didn’t think was possible. You and Wanda were already attached at the hip when she wasn’t deep in her studies and you never expected to feel like you were getting to know her better just from a few study sessions, but you loved it.

You found yourself wanting her, despite trying to repress those feelings. Sometimes when you got an answer right and Wanda beamed with excitement, you only wanted to break the distance and kiss her, to feel her lips against your own and wrap your arms around her neck as she kissed you back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips as she spoke, imagining how soft they’d be against your own. Whenever she bit her lip, you wished she was biting yours.

The thoughts weren��t always so innocent though. Yes, you wondered how she would taste as you kissed her, but you also wondered how she would taste with your head between her legs. You wanted to thank her for her help by making her cum on your fingers right there in the library, where anyone could see.

You tried to shake those kinds of thoughts, feeling guilty for thinking of your best friend that way, especially when she was being so kind as to tutor you on the subject you struggled with. She didn’t have a lot of free time to begin with, her workload keeping her fairly busy, and here she was making sure you could pass your physics class with flying colors.

And here you were, too distracted by thoughts of fucking her to pay attention to Newton’s law of attraction. The only law of attraction you could think about was how you felt about Wanda.

Wanda was in the same boat, cursing herself for threatening to ruin your friendship with this newfound attraction towards you. She wondered if her seemingly innocent thoughts about you in the past were actually just the seeds of this desire for you, only now flourishing the more time you spent alone with her.

Whenever she felt your gaze on her, it made her feel hot all over. She tried to ignore it and focus on the material, reminding herself that you just needed help with physics. That’s what she was there for, nothing else.

But sometimes, she wished it was more. When you weren’t looking, she’d rake her eyes over you, taking in the sight of you beside her, feeling her heart stop in her chest when you’d catch her staring. You convinced yourself she was just watching you to make sure you were immersed in the subject, when in reality she was most definitely checking you out.

Still, her eyes on you made you nervous and you brought your attention back to the textbook in front of you solely to rid your cheeks of the blush she caused.

One particular night in the library nearly changed everything.

You read Wanda’s notes about motion and energy, scanning the pages to better understand the concepts. While you admired her neat handwriting and the cute ways she annotated her own notes, Wanda admired the concentrated look on your face.

She was so lost in watching you that she barely noticed when you spoke.

“So special relativity is the exception to Newton’s laws when objects move at high speeds and general relativity is when objects are too massive, right?” You asked, looking up at her for confirmation as she stared at you intently, a slight smirk coming across your features when you caught her.

“Yes,” she choked out, looking away for a second to regain her composure. “And quantum mechanics?”

“That’s the exception when objects are very small,” you responded, feeling confident in your answer.

“Good job,” Wanda praised, making your heart flutter. “You’re really getting it.” She looked at you with nothing but pride and approval, smiling softly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling hot under her gaze. Despite how nervous she was making you, you didn’t break eye contact.

The two of you sat like that for a moment, just looking at each other, until Wanda’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a brief second. You almost thought you imagined it at first, but then she did it again. You mimicked her actions, looking down at those lips you wanted so desperately to capture with your own.

You swore Wanda was leaning in and you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. Your faces were mere inches apart now and you could feel Wanda’s warm breath against your lips.

Before you could close the gap, the door to the library opened and startled both of you. You turned to look at who came in, silently cursing them for ruining the moment as Wanda pulled back to look too.

There was an awkward silence before Wanda cleared her throat. “So now that you know what quantum mechanics is, let’s move on to the definitions of atomic and subatomic,” she said, her voice nearly trembling as she tried to recover from the heated moment you shared.

“Right,” you responded, turning your attention back to her notes, trying to calm your racing heart.

You and Wanda had almost kissed, everything suddenly felt very real. But instead of addressing what just happened, Wanda moved on, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand.

You played along, focusing on looking for the definitions she mentioned, finding it difficult to learn anything new when you had just come so close to kissing the brunette.

The rest of the study session felt tense and slightly awkward, but you made it through the last of the material without any hitches - or almost-kisses. Eventually, the two of you packed up your things and headed out, discussing projects and exams on the way back to your dorm.

A few days later, you were watching a movie in bed when Wanda came in, smiling brightly with a skip in her step.

“What’s got you so giddy today?” You asked, pausing your movie.

“Do you remember Vision, from my data analysis class?”

“Yeah,” you answered, nodding.

“He just asked me out,” she said excitedly. “I said yes of course. We’re going out on Friday, he’s taking me to dinner.”

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. You forced a smile, trying to be happy for her when all you could focus on was the feeling of your heart breaking.

“That’s great, Wands,” you muttered. “I’m happy for you.” The words felt fake coming out of your mouth but you kept up the act and tried to ignore the jealousy bubbling within you.

“He’s so sweet, he even used a silly joke about data to ask me out,” she went on, continuing to tell you about her day as you listened, your mind elsewhere the entire time.

All you could think about was the kiss you almost shared, how it meant everything to you and nothing to Wanda. Obviously she wasn’t interested in you like that and you wondered if you merely imagined the intimacy of the library study sessions. You had to come to terms with the fact that the tension you felt in the air when you were with Wanda lately was all in your head.

You thought when you almost kissed that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way. Now, you realized you were horribly wrong, the harsh reality hitting you like a truck. Wanda was just being nice helping you study and you let yourself believe that it was more. You felt incredibly stupid, wishing the ground would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to hear any more about the date Vision was taking Wanda on.

What you didn’t know was that Wanda only said yes to Vision out of pure denial. She was having a hard time coping with her feelings for you and this seemed like a good way to move on, to try to save your friendship from her own selfish desires. She was excited for her date, hoping that it would take her mind off of you.

Maybe Vision would be the perfect guy for her and she could fall for him instead. He was handsome, slightly dorky, and very chivalrous, always holding the door open for her when they showed up to class at the same time. He was planning on taking her to a lovely restaurant near campus and Wanda was trying her best to look forward to it.

Friday rolled around and Wanda went on her date, which couldn’t have gone better. Vision greeted her at her dorm with flowers, walking her to his car and taking them to the restaurant. He listened intently while Wanda talked about herself and her passions, seeming genuinely interested. He paid at the end of dinner, leaving a generous tip for their server which Wanda found attractive. He asked politely to kiss her when he dropped her back off and didn’t pressure her for more.

Despite how wonderful the date was, Wanda was frustrated. She didn’t feel a spark with him like she did with you. She didn’t feel anything when they kissed, not even when he cupped her cheek in his hand as he moved his lips softly against her own.

Wanda felt more butterflies in her stomach from your hand brushing against hers during a study session than she did from kissing Vision at the end of their date and she hated it.

She figured it would take some time to get over you and continued to see Vision, going on a couple dates a week with him when she had the free time. She tried to continue your study sessions as well, but you told her you didn’t need the extra help and to just have fun with Vision. She felt slightly hurt - she didn’t like the idea of you not needing her anymore - but she was also proud of you for taking on the subject on your own.

You, on the other hand, were avoiding Wanda at all costs. You only came back to the dorm when she was in class or when she was already asleep, staying out late hanging around college parties that weren’t nearly as fun without your best friend.

You were in far too deep and came to the conclusion that you needed to move on in order to stay friends with Wanda. So you kept your distance, hoping that not seeing her or hearing from her would help you lose feelings for her.

You also couldn’t bear to see her with Vision; the sight of them together on campus made you feel sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to hear about their dates either, knowing it would destroy you. You couldn’t possibly listen to Wanda describe how he got to take her out and kiss her and hold her when it should’ve been you, not without revealing your true feelings to her.

While you spent your days hiding from the brunette, Wanda was confused as to why you were avoiding her, not understanding that it was an act of self-preservation.

She had so many things she was excited to tell you about - being the top student in her relativity class, getting a perfect score on her nuclear and particle physics exam, and of course, her budding relationship with Vision. The opportunity to tell you never came, as you were gone until she went to sleep and out of the dorm before she woke up.

She missed your study sessions, even if not having those intimate moments with you was for the best. She missed your movie nights, your conversations, your presence in general - she missed everything about you. It frustrated her to no end that she could never seem to see you anymore and she wondered how you could possibly become so busy all of a sudden.

She only realized you were actively avoiding her one night when she stayed up late, waiting to see if you’d come back to the dorm.

When you entered, you were surprised to see her still awake.

“Hey,” she said, happy to see you for the first time in weeks. “Where were you?”

“At a party,” you said back coldly. You internally cursed yourself for not staying out later, unaware that Wanda would still be up when you came back. You looked around before grabbing some things from your dresser. “I need to shower,” you announced, leaving the room before Wanda could ask any more questions.

The brunette waited up for you, but you never came back. She waited hours before she finally succumbed to sleep, her thoughts a jumbled mess as she drifted away.

When she woke up the next morning and you were still gone, she knew you were actually making an effort not to see her and she could only wonder what she had done wrong. She mulled over it for a while but came up with nothing. She thought back to the almost-kiss and wondered if maybe she had made you uncomfortable that night.

Days went by and you continued to avoid her. Not knowing why you were staying away from her was driving her crazy. Her grades even began to suffer from how distracted she was in class, her mind consumed with thoughts of you.

She finally decided to confront you about it, but first she’d have to actually find you. She vaguely knew your class schedule but didn’t want to corner you in a public place, so she went to the one place she thought you might be late in the evening.

As soon as she entered the library after hours, she saw you in the corner at the same table the two of you used to sit at for your study sessions.

You were nose deep in your physics textbook, focusing intently as you tried to understand the topics without Wanda’s help. She walked over to you, mentally hyping herself up for the conversation she was both anticipating and dreading.

When you set the book down to take notes, you looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of Wanda approaching you.

Before you could say anything, she was taking a seat across from you. “Why are you avoiding me?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, her tilting to the side.

“I- I’m not, I-” you stuttered out.

“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t lie to me. You’re never back at the dorm anymore, you stopped spending any time with me, you literally said you were going to shower and just never came back. So don’t you dare lie to me right now.”

“I’ve just been busy,” you said nonchalantly, not wanting to tell her the truth. “I have a life outside of you, you know.” You regretted the words as soon as you said them.

“Bullshit,” she responded, getting angry. “You’re avoiding me and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. What did I do to you?”

“Nothing, Wands,” you reassured her. “You didn’t do anything. I just- I need to be alone.”

“Why?” She didn’t let up. She came here to get answers and she would get them one way or another.

“It’s personal,” you tried, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.

She scoffed. “What’s so personal you can’t share it with your best friend?”

You were at a loss for words. You couldn’t tell her the truth and risk ruining your friendship, but at this point there was barely anything left to ruin. You hadn’t seen Wanda properly in weeks, your friendship with her was practically nonexistent at the moment.

When you didn’t respond, she spoke again, softer this time. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything,” she uttered, reaching out to place a hand over yours.

“I can’t tell you this,” you mumbled, feeling your resolve weakening.

“What could possibly be so bad you can’t tell me?” She asked, her heart falling at the sight of you looking so small under her gaze.

“I- I can’t stand to see you with him,” you whispered, your voice so low she almost didn’t hear you.

“With who? Vision?” she asked and you nodded, looking down at your lap. “I still have time for you too, I’m not choosing him over you,” she tried to dispel your worries, not yet understanding what you were implying with your confession.

“No, Wanda, I can’t stand to see him with you,” you said, avoiding eye contact. ��You don’t get it, you are choosing him and it hurts too much to be around you.”

“What are you saying?” She questioned, feeling both confused and hurt.

“I’m saying that I like you, Wanda,” you started. “As more than a friend.”

Wanda was silent for a moment, processing what you were telling her. Could she really have been so oblivious that she didn’t notice you wanted her too? It all made sense now. You’d stopped hanging out with her right around the time Vision came into the picture and she couldn’t figure out why, but now she understood.

“Please say something,” you said, feeling nervous and vulnerable as you looked up at her, unable to read her expression.

“I- I didn’t know,” she managed to get out.

“That was kind of the point,” you retorted, half-smiling to alleviate some of the tension.

Wanda let out a suppressed laugh. “I only started seeing Vision because I like you too,” she began. “I thought if I could be with him, I wouldn’t have to worry about complicating things with my feelings.”

Your mouth fell open at her words; you weren’t expecting her to ever reciprocate how you felt about her. “You do?”

She nodded. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” she said.

“Me neither,” you mumbled, looking down at her lips for a moment before making eye contact with her again.

She smirked when she noticed where your eyes went, making you blush. “I don’t think that’s a problem anymore,” she said, her eyes flicking down to your lips and back up.

“I think you may be right,” was all you could say before you stood up and walked around the table. Wanda stood up too, meeting you halfway as you pulled her in for a kiss that was long overdue.

You sighed against her lips, kissing her deeply the way you’d wanted to for so long. Your mouths moved together perfectly and it felt so right, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop.

This was what Wanda was waiting for.

The kiss she shared with you was everything her kiss with Vision wasn’t. It was electrifying in the best way, butterflies erupting in her stomach with every movement of your lips against hers.

When her tongue traced your bottom lip, you nearly moaned into the kiss, immediately granting her entry. Your tongue collided with hers and she whimpered, the sound going straight to your core. You brought a hand up to caress her cheek, your other hand going to the back of her head to play with her hair, causing her to let out a soft moan. This was everything you could’ve imagined and more.

Wanda’s hands came up to your face, cradling it as she deepened the kiss. Your lips and tongues moved in tandem, neither of you wanting to stop any time soon.

When you finally did detach from her, it was to catch your breath. You stayed close, your noses still touching as the two of you breathed against each other. You felt every breath from the brunette against your skin, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you finally opened your eyes.

You pulled back slightly to look at her, her eyes opening to meet your stare. Her pupils were dilated and you were sure yours looked similar. She looked so beautiful looking at you longingly, her lips swollen from the kiss and her breaths coming out labored, green eyes sparkling with lust and adoration.

“Wow,” you breathed out.

“Wow indeed,” she agreed, chuckling as she pulled you in for another kiss, this one much shorter than the first.

A comfortable silence fell over you, the two of you taking in the moment.

“So what now?” you asked, looking at her tenderly.

“I don’t know,” she answered, biting her lip. “It’s safe to say the friendship is ruined at this point, because I don’t want this to be the only time we do that.”

You nodded your agreement. “Me too,” you replied, your eyes falling to her lips once again. “I want you, Wanda. I have for so long.”

“I want you too,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll tell Vision it’s not working out. I want to see where this goes.”

You made a face at the mention of his name and Wanda chuckled. “Oh, you really don’t like him, huh?” She teased.

“Not one bit,” you murmured. “Not when he got to have what I wanted so badly.”

“Charmer.” She smiled at you, her cheeks turning red at your words.

“Can I kiss you again?” You blurted out, feeling your own cheeks redden at your neediness.

She responded by pressing her lips to yours once more and letting her tongue slide into your mouth, humming into the kiss contentedly.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, languidly kissing in the library after hours, catching up on lost time.

When you went back to your shared dorm for the night, you picked back up where you left off, this time with Wanda in your lap as you laid in your bed. Every once in a while, she’d grind her hips down against your lap just to hear you grunt in arousal against her lips.

You fell asleep together in your bed, Wanda’s head on your shoulder as her breathing evened out.

The following week, Wanda ended things with Vision and you took Wanda out on a proper date. Vision’s date paled in comparison to the one you took her on. This date was better simply because it was you and not him, but on top of that, you took her somewhere nice and treated her like a princess the whole night. She practically swooned every time you held the door for her, complimented her, or pulled out her chair for her.

By the end of the night, you were on cloud nine. It was just like spending time with your best friend, but this was infinitely better because you could kiss her whenever you wanted and tell her how beautiful she looked at any given moment.

You walked back to your dorm together, fingers interlocked as you listened to her talk about her dreams after college. When you made it back to the dorm, you opened the door to let her in first.

“Such a gentleman,” she joked, stepping in, and you followed.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I wanted to do to you right now,” you said, pushing her against the door softly and looking at her for permission to kiss her.

A pang of arousal shot through her at your words. She wasn’t expecting you to be so bold, but she also wasn’t complaining. “Oh yeah?” she asked, playing along. “How about you show me?”

You didn’t hesitate as you kissed her hungrily, the feeling of her lips on yours making you feel dizzy with lust. You slipped your tongue into her mouth and she gasped at how eager you were, kissing you back with just as much fervor.

You trailed your kisses down to her neck, making her moan as you licked and sucked at the soft skin there. Her perfume invaded your senses and you groaned against her neck, her scent making your knees weak.

Her moans spurred you on as you sucked at her pulse point. She gripped your shoulders, her head thrown back against the door, eyes fluttering closed as you continued your assault on her neck.

She pulled you back up for another kiss, moaning into your mouth when you sunk your teeth into her bottom lip. When you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, you ran your thumb along her bottom lip, gazing into her lustful eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” You checked in with her, wanting to make sure she was really okay with what was about to happen.

“I’ve never been with a woman before,” she admitted, suddenly feeling shy. “But I want it to be you, please.”

You nearly groaned out loud hearing her beg for you, nodding as you lifted her up and carried her to your bed. You placed her down gently, crawling on top of her and kissing her again.

You once again began your descent, kissing her neck and sucking on her soft spots. She squirmed beneath you, feeling herself becoming wet under your touch.

Your fingers found the bottom of her shirt, playing with the fabric as you silently asked for permission to remove it. “Take it off,” Wanda whispered, starting to feel desperate from your slow teasing.

She sat up so you could pull the shirt off of her and reached back to unclasp her bra, letting the material fall from her shoulders. Your mouth fell open at the sight of her bare chest, nipples already hard. You’d seen her topless before while she was changing, but never like this. You’d never been allowed to look as much as you wanted, to admire her before you.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” you said, bringing your hands up to her chest as she leaned back again. Your thumbs brushed over her nipples, causing her to let out a whimper that sent heat coursing through your body.

You leaned in to take one of her nipples in your mouth, licking it gently before sucking on the hardened bud. Wanda moaned at that, the sound making you even more aroused. She sounded so pretty moaning under your touch and you couldn’t wait to hear what she sounded like when she came undone for you.

You gave her other nipple the same attention before moving down, one hand finding its way under her skirt. Your fingers reached her center, feeling a wet spot on the front of her underwear.

“You’re so wet for me,” you mumbled, in awe of how turned on she was. It almost made you feel a bit cocky, knowing it was you who made her so wet she was soaking through her panties.

“Please,” the brunette gasped out, bucking her hips up against your fingers. “Need you.”

“Yeah? You need me, pretty girl?” You cooed, rubbing your fingers along her slit over her underwear.

She nodded frantically, her hips desperately trying to meet your hand for any sort of friction against her aching pussy. You pushed aside her panties to touch her without any barriers and you let out a moan of your own at the soft, slick feeling of her folds against your fingertips. She was dripping, her wetness clinging to your skin and the lace of her panties as you dragged your fingers through her folds teasingly.

All of a sudden, you pulled your hand back and she whined, already missing the contact. “Shh, I’m just gonna take these off, okay?” You asked, subtly making sure she was comfortable with you removing the last of her clothes.

“Yeah,” she responded, lifting her hips so you could pull her skirt and panties off in one motion.

Once she was rid of her clothes, you took a moment to appreciate the view before you. Wanda was gorgeous all over, you thought to yourself, admiring her underneath you. You raked your eyes over her, committing the sight to memory as she blushed against the covers of your bed, feeling hot under your gaze.

“You can stare all you want later, right now I need you,” she said breathily, grabbing your hand and bringing it to where she needed you most. Your fingers met her wet center once more and you immediately started rubbing her clit, making her moan and buck her hips.

You kissed her again, swallowing her moans as you picked up your pace, making tight circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, just like that,” she whimpered, her face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, heavy breaths escaping her as you brought her pleasure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you mumbled, watching her throw her head back and close her eyes as she got lost in the feeling of your fingers against her.

You stopped your movements just long enough to tease her entrance and upon hearing another “please,” you slid a finger inside. You fucked her with one finger for a few moments before sliding another one in, causing her to let out a guttural moan at the feeling of you stretching her out.

You kissed down her body again, making your way down to where you desperately wanted to taste her. When your hot mouth met her clit, she let out another delicious sound, her hips starting to grind against you, chasing her pleasure. Her movements caused her clit to rub against your tongue while your fingers pumped inside of her and she felt herself becoming close already.

“You taste so good,” you praised, barely moving your mouth from her pussy to speak, before reattaching your lips to her clit and sucking hard. She moaned at your words and at the pressure building in her lower stomach, continuing to rut her hips against you.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m so close,” she moaned, one hand coming to the back of your head to keep you there, as if you would ever deny her anything.

With a few more thrusts of your fingers, she came undone, loud moans filling the room as she reached her peak. Her hips stuttered against your face, her clit pulsing under your tongue while her pussy clenched around your fingers.

You slowed your movements, helping her ride out the aftershocks, small whimpers and moans leaving her as she came down from her high. She sighed, all of the tension having left her body, before pulling you up for a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue.

“I could get used that,” she hummed, smiling up at you tiredly.

“Me too,” you panted out, still incredibly turned on from seeing her cum for you. “I kinda can’t wait to do it again.”

“You want me that bad?” She teased, smirking.

“Absolutely,” you replied genuinely, staring at her with so much love and lust in your eyes it made her heart flutter and her pussy throb.

“Go ahead baby, fuck me again,” she said, your own cunt clenching around nothing at her words. You returned to your new favorite spot between her legs and did exactly what she told you, her hand in your hair guiding you the whole time.

After three more rounds, Wanda was spent, and you joined her at the head of the bed, letting her turn towards you and rest her head on your shoulder. You held her close as she traced patterns on your arm, catching her breath after falling apart for you so many times.

“Do you still need help with physics?” She asked, breaking the silence.

You chuckled at that. “Yes, desperately,” you responded, letting a hand come up to play with her hair. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

She laughed, finding it amusing that you’d needed her help the past few weeks but were too stubborn to ask for it. “Study session this week?” she suggested, her eyes falling closed at the feeling of your fingers on her scalp.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you said, smiling happily, feeling at peace in the arms of the girl you loved.

You never would’ve thought you would be so grateful for having to take a physics course, but now you were certain it was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x y/n #college wanda #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #bottom!wanda maximoff #top!reader #alexa writes

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wingfleur · 10 hours ago

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# — helping mark grayson lose his v-card.

ever since i finished invincible back in MARCH, mark grayson has been living in the back of my mind rent free. then, @sobbingscripter fucked around and gave me this stubborn childhood best-friends to lovers brainworm i cannot shake with her series "our turn." everybody go read it! this is all your fault, girl!!! 💔 | wc: 2.3k words.

cw: nsfw mdni (18+), afab!reader, childhood-friends-to-friends-who-fuck?, porn with a crumb of plot, vaginal fingering, explicit sex (p in v), missionary, loss of virginity (both reader and mark), creampie, reader trying (and failing) to not feel good, mark being inexplicably good at sex despite this being his first time?, this is... vaguely angsty considering the circumstances

thinking about mark grayson asking you to do him a favor and take his virginity.

i mean, shit— mark seriously thinks he has a chance with amber, and he doesn’t want to risk a single thing about him turning her off. like— what if, when they eventually get, y’know, "hot and heavy," he kisses her with too much teeth, or can’t find the clit, or, god forbid, he tries to put his dick in the wrong hole! in that case, he’d be single and lonely forever, doomed to die unfucked, and it’s not like you’re seeing anyone either, so you’re the only one he can ask for help!

now, in your defense, the first few proposals mark offers get shot down by you in no time at all. you like mark, yeah, and losing your v-card would be nice, sure, but you’re not that desperate. being so thirsty to fuck him that you’re willing to be his test dummy so he can properly fuck the girl he actually likes is a level of depravity you’d never, ever sink to, but the way mark gets down on his knees one night and begs with his those big, brown puppy eyes of his makes you kiss your teeth and begrudgingly say yes.

and as nervous as mark’s been acting, he’s eager.

when mark kisses you for the first time, the action not nearly as full of teeth as he initially worried about, you come to find that it’s actually... quite nice. it��s hesitant, sure, but as far as you're concerned, this is not only your first kiss, but his. it's clumsy, but full of good intentions, and you enjoy the sensation of soft lips pressed against yours until he gets comfortable enough to lick at your bottom lip.

he only gets bolder from there. strong, calloused hands caress your sides, slipping under the fabric of your tattered t-shirt that you cut the neckline off of. firm, muscled legs walk you back towards your bed and cause you to bend at the knee, falling back onto the mattress, and him along with it. soon, those soft, pink lips are trailing their way down your neck, and those shy, but secure, hands are making their way to your bare chest, thumbs cautiously flicking over your pebbled nipples.

you’re quite surprised by the effort it takes you to try to act like you’re not enjoying this.

“‘s that okay?” mark asks softly against your lips, pulling back enough to look at your face. your expression is pinched, brows slightly knitted in the middle. mark’s concentration deepens, and he moves back a little further to truly study you, lips parting as he cautiously moves to pinch your nipples between his pointer and index fingers.

“...you look like it hurts.” mark’s eyes flicker across every tremor and flicker of the expression on your face. you let your eyes shut slowly and try to steel yourself, breathing deep.

“no, it doesn’t. you’re just— notthatgoodatthis.”

mark’s fingers slow to a near stop as he takes a moment to truly scrutinize you, eyes locking onto the way your eyebrow twitches as he slowly rolls the buds between his fingertips. then, he smiles, leaning back down to brush his lips against yours.

“you’re lying.”

you are lying. to be more accurate, you’re lying like fuck, but to maintain a shred of your dignity, you can’t act like being mark grayson’s test fuck-dummy feels nearly as good as it does. you'd simply be handing him the green light to go fuck amber.

“i have no reason to lie.”

“sure,” he chirps back, “we’ll see about that.”

you find two reasons to lie once mark sinks his fingers into you.

firstly, you’re wet— unbearably so— and you know mark can feel it from the way his lips drop open with a groan. mark inhales deeply in an attempt to stifle any other sounds that escape him in the process, focusing solely on the slow press of his middle and ring fingers into your hole. the whole process is audible and clicky, which makes his head buzz with static every time the squelch reverberates against his eardrums. secondly, you’re tight; sure, mark already knew you were a virgin, but it’s another thing for the proof to be sitting right in front of him (or, better yet, squeezing around him). the way you’re squirming beneath him tells mark everything: that, to date, his fingers are the biggest thing you’ve ever had inside of you.

christ, mark feels like he’s gonna lose his mind.

the first thing he notices, aside from the way you’re clenching around him like you wanna break his fingers off, is the way the cords of muscle in your thighs are pulled taut. you’re tense— that much is evident from your pinched expression— but mark decides he wants to watch that pained face melt off into molten pleasure, so he starts to rock his fingers into you gently.

“how’s that?” he asks, voice low and a little frayed around the edges. his adam’s apple bobs hard as he swallows, focusing himself on your face instead of the pretty sight of your pussy swallowing him up.

“hardly feel it,” you lie unconvincingly, teeth gritted and jaw tight. you know you’re not going to win an oscar for your performance anytime soon, if the way mark laughs is anything to go by, and you frown in reply because, as much as you want to be mad, it’s truly a glorious noise. that said, you do have a reputation for being a buzzkill to uphold, so you try and fix your lips to snark out a reply, but you quickly press them into a flat line the moment you feel a moan bubbling up rather than words.

“sure,” is all mark says, his voice and tone void of any dejection. there’s little to no emotion in it at all, actually, and it makes you open your eyes right as he curls his fingers and drags them across your upper walls.

a soft gasp leaves you, and your brows shoot up in surprise, tummy spasming for a moment as your hips kick up into his hand. mark’s rhythm falters for a moment, surprised by the sudden movement, but he has no problem adapting to the situation and getting back into it with a grin across his face.

“bet you feel it now,” he coos, tone patronizing as he concentrates his fingers on that tender spot inside you. you shake your head quickly, brain threateningly to drip out your ears as you squeeze your eyes shut so hard you see spots.

“all i— fuck— feel is you fumbling around inside of me like this is some bastardized prostate exam.”

mark snorts, but ultimately doesn’t reply, and in the back of your mind, you think you notice that as a sign of trouble. in actuality, you aren’t really sure: you could’ve picked up on it as a result of your last-minute preservation skills, but at the same time, it very well could have been a lie you made up in an attempt to make this feel less real.

whatever it is, it doesn’t matter anymore. you’re hardly aware enough of your surroundings as is. not after mark busies himself with slowly sliding his cock inside of you.

“oh fuck, you feel good,” mark moans, voice sounding utterly destroyed as he presses himself in to the hilt. your thighs quiver, and you take a hand to press it against his abdomen, right above where it tapers into a v-shape and disappears inside of you.

“i— fuck you, mark—“

mark, despite how much his eyes wanna roll back, leans over you and smugly grins.

“you are right now, aren’t you?”

you don’t know where the fuck mark learned this.

the first few thrusts of his are measured, more so savoring the feeling of the way your walls sticking to his cock every time he draws back and press his hips forward. then, his thrusts become confident. he falls into a good pace, most of his weight on his hands as he leans over you and focuses on your face.

your expression starts to crumble.

the rhythm slowly makes a tingle form in your gut, jaw dropping open as you try to fix your mouth to half-heartedly tell him to stop. then, he angles his hips and hits a spot that makes your mind go blank of any protests, effectively making your steeled expression finally crumble.

“oh, fuck,“ you finally whine, back arching slowly into a deep bow. you blink open your teary eyes to catch mark looking at you with the most lovesick expression, something you’re nearly dumb enough to think is for you before it’s covered up by pride for finally getting you to crack.

“tell me how good it feels,” he says, dropping suddenly onto his elbows. you’re about to tell him that you’d only ever do such a thing in hell, but then he presses his face into your neck and slowly grinds into you, causing a shudder to completely wrack your body.

“mark,“ you whimper softly, arms and legs coming up to cling onto mark desperately. he continues to sensually rock into you, movements long and drawn out so you can really feel it. as you begin to squirm, mark uses his muscled arms and firm hands to clutch you so you can’t run.

“tell me,” he pants again. “tell me how good it fuckin’ feels.”

“fuck, it feels so fucking good, mark.” the way you whisper it sounds utterly broken, tears pricking at the corners of your lashes as a part of you gets damn near angry from how good you feel. mark keeps rolling his hips into you as he leans back to take in your expression, head coming forward to press a kiss to one of your eyelids.

“cum for me.”

the words quickly make your eyes flutter open, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows as he keeps fucking you slow and measured. your mouth opens and closes for a few moments as you try to string together something akin to a disbelieving “what?”, but mark beats you to it and shushes you, pressing your foreheads together.

“stop thinking so hard and let go. lemme feel it, baby.”

mark holds your gaze for a moment, actively watching the way your gears still manage to turn despite how stupid you currently feel. something suddenly gives in your expression, and mark smiles in realization, watching as you slowly relax and focus on nothing but the incredible warmth building inside you.

your orgasm takes a little while, but when it does finally come, it’s glorious.

mark would describe it as you melting. he watches as you seize up for just a brief moment, clutching him for dear life with slight panic in your eyes. then, he watches as you turn to jelly, the panic subsiding into something that can only be described as pure bliss, becoming one with the sheets and mattress itself.

you feel so good around him that his hips stutter, but as much as mark wants to cum too, he wants to see you through your orgasm first.

you can’t do anything but take it.

it feels amazing— like a tingly, warm sensation spreading from the very top of your head to the very tips of your toes. you do your best to hold mark’s eye contact as your climax ravages you, but they eventually roll back into your head. the sight makes him groan and duck his head into your neck.

“fuck,” mark hisses, voice low and gruff enough to be similar to a growl. it makes goosebumps rise on your skin— a few more than the ones that have already sprouted up on your arms and neck, at least— and when the numbing feeling of your orgasm begins to fade, you reach up to handle your fingers in his hair and lightly scratch your nails against his back. “where do you want it?”

you pause for a moment— one of genuine, critical thought— and lean up to speak in his ear.

“inside.”

mark briefly pulls up to look at you, the urge to ask you if you’re sure on the tip of his tongue, but the look you give him, combined with the knot tightening in his gut, tells him to shut up and listen, causing him to duck back down to your neck.

mark’s pace falters, falling from measured and steady to frantic and fast as he chases after his high. he trembles with the force of his orgasm, hugging you tight as he humps into you like he’s trying to carve a place out inside of you.

you shiver with him as he does, and you soothe him through it, murmuring praise in his ear until he’s panting heavily and slumps against you.

“…thank you,” he mumbles, face still buried in his neck.

you’re panting heavily too, but that doesn’t stop you from weakly smiling, fingers tracing shapes in his skin. “don’t thank me, this was charity work.”

mark snorts lightly and turns his head to lightly nibble you, making you giggle in reply.

“maybe,” he says, sighing and turning his head to rest his cheek on your shoulder. “but still. thank you.”

you hum quietly in response, a smile tugging at your lips until a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you of why he did this. it's quick, how suddenly something deep inside of you sours—something deep enough that it isn’t able to deter you from enjoying this peace you find in mark grayson’s arms, but accessible to the point of letting you feel that sting in the very tips of your fingers.

you fall silent, listening to the rhythm of mark’s breathing, tracing patterns and shapes until his heavy, exhausted breathing becomes soft and measured.

it’s only then do you allow yourself to speak, making the conscious effort to tuck the bitterness you finally feel in yourself away.

“mm. i guess you’re welcome.”

# — navigation

#— alexis writes ꒰ঌ ໒꒱#the mark grayson brainrot has been crazy #can u all tell that i like it when guys say thank u for letting them hit #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x reader smut #invincible x reader #invincible x reader smut

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cvnt4him · 2 days ago

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Hi! I hope you’re doing well, I’ve been a silent fan for a while and I really appreciate and love your work so I wanted to request how Katsuki and/or izuku would would react to reader flashing them during or after a heated argument If you could :)) you decide if you want it to be smut or not, Thank you!!

ty for your love and support! I giggled while reading this lol

Katsukiᡣ𐭩

during an argument.

Katsuki was really heated this evening and you certainly hadn't made anything better with your bickering. It's not as if you yourself were upset, you were just nagging a bit. Katsuki, as someone who is normally really clean and good at picking up behind himself, just trudged through your front door shedding his shoes in the living room and flopping down onto your couch. Not greeting or saying hello to you, not offering to help or take a load off of you. Nothing.

You understand he's been working today but a hello would've been more than enough for you. You've just missed him a bit more than normal that morning and wanted to feel his touch. You spoke only a word to him about how you felt and he was already giving you an attitude. You could only scoff at his sass and angry voice. Most of the time when he got angry you'd get angry, but this time you couldn't handle him.

You really didn't feel like arguing or just yelling back at him. With a blank face you just stared at him as he spat words out at you while he sat back against the couch. You sigh to yourself and simply lift your shirt and allow your boobs to freely fall out. Katsuki who was staring directly at you watched your every movement as he spoke, not expecting you to do that he suddenly stops speaking.

You raise one brow and try your hardest not to snicker at his surprised expression, a dust of pink brushing his cheeks. You heard a small breath leave his slackened jaw as he stared you up and down for a couple of minutes. You pull your shirt down and clear your throat before addressing him.

“ now then.. are you done? Jesus, katsuki, all I wanted was a hello and for you to not throw your things-”

Before you could finish your sentence he was quick to get up and throw you over his shoulder. You yell out and question what he's doing.

“ if yer so keen on talking over me; let's see if you can even get a word out when I'm through with ya.”

Izukuᡣ𐭩

after an argument.

You just wanted to feel appreciated was all, you did your best with dinner and looking well for him only to get nothing in return. You wish you hadn't had blown up on him, and it really did break your heart having him yell at you...but goodness that angry expression he had, the way he grit his teeth and breathed heavily. You could see a tinge of regret behind his eyes, he isn't one to normally snap so easily.

The two of you took a bit of a break from each other, just taking 5 minutes in separate rooms to cook off. You were never really angry, sure a bit upset but you just wanted your husband. That need for him never went away it only grew.

Izuku, ready to apologize, walked back into your shared bedroom to address the situation. He felt he'd gone too far and that arguing and him raising his voice wasn't necessary. Things could've been resolved in better ways by simply talking them out.

As you heard your husband out, watching as he spoke with his hands as well as his apologetic voice. You simply smiled at him, watching as his sad eyes had trouble staying connected to yours. Your hands slowly brang themselves up to your shirt and you lifted it just as slowly allowing you to tease him a bit. He immediately stopped talking and his eyes flickered from your eyes straight to your bare chest his jaw falling slack as his eyes widened. A small noise leaving him as he completely forgot what he was talking about.

You remove your shirt as a whole and walk towards him in only your underwear, his hand immediately flying to your sides as he gulps down struggling to look at you.

“ I know another way....you can make it up to me.”

“...deal.”

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averyuniqueusername · 2 days ago

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Laughter filled the small cave they stood in and bounced off the rocks, strengthening into a rolling wave that crashed into the genie's senses. The mighty genie startled and glanced down at the small old man. ". . . What? What are you laughing about? I haven't even finished listing the rules yet. " The frail old man's giggling dissolved into a coughing fit, and after a moment's rest he peered back up at the genie, his sparkling eyes barely visible from underneath large, bushy eyebrows. " Son, I wasn't planning on asking you for more time. Lord knows I've had plenty of that. " The genie studied the man before him. The old man was dressed in well-loved overalls, a white shirt and a straw hat. One gnarled hand supported the man on an old wooden cane, and the other grasped the handle of an old rusted metal gas lamp that had housed the genie for about a hundred years. Drifting from a crack in the glass of the lamp was parts of the genie's smoky tail, emanating a soft glow that threw light and shadows on the old man in a way that made him almost otherworldly. A thousand men before him would have never dared interrupt him, they would be chomping at the bit to make the first wish. Instead of anticipating, he was laughing. But it was no matter, he was a human like the rest of his masters. Three wishes to twist the best he could, and then leap into the nearest lamp for the next fool to find. His face twisted back into a mechanized smile.

" Well, good to know. Rule number two is: No wishing someone dead or alive. Everyone has their time on this land and frankly I couldn't care enough to change that. "

Another fit of giggles, followed by harsh coughing. The genie grimaced as his new master doubled over for a minute to catch his breath. How could he find humor in the possibility of great power, wealth, even a return to the youth he surely misses? Men and women would discover the genie and demand endless everything. That's all humans are, just selfish good for nothing fools who want a-

" - lamp here, son. "

" . . I beg your pardon? "

The old man lifted the lamp a bit. " I said I'm worried about this old lamp here, son. Don't you live in it? "

" I. . I do, full time as a matter of fact. A good bottle is hard to come by now a days. "

Another chuckle into a wheezing cough. "I agree, and I'd like to spend that first wish to fix it. "

" What? There's far better things to wish for. Ask me for a grand palace or or a great horse. " A horse could easily trample the old man, and the grand palace could be far, far away.

" Maybe if I was a younger man. My house is my palace, as empty as it is, and I'm sure you'd like yours to be the same. "

The genie crossed his arms. " Well, You'll have to say the words "

" Oh-h-h right. " The old man straightened himself and puffed out his chest. " I wish that this here lamp become the finest container for. . what was your name again? "

" . . Asa . " Names held no power over a genie, but Asa still doubted the old man's intentions

The old man smiled " Roger, nice to meetcha. Well, I wish that Asa's lamp becomes the finest lamp the world ever did see. "

Asa hesitated, but with a small clap of his hands the lamp in Rogers hand melded into a fine metal lantern with lattice sides and a gazebo topped chimney from which the genie's tail now pours out.

" Now that's a pretty lantern. That sort of craftmanship hasn't been seen around here for a while." Before Asa had a chance to respond, Roger turned around and started to shuffle towards the cave entrance.

" Where are you going? " Asa tried to stay put, but there was only so far he could be from his lamp, and he was slowly, helplessly tugged behind the old man.

" Out to see the sunrise one more time. " Roger hobbled to the cave entrance, and paused when he felt the smoke tug on the lantern.

" I don't want to "

"Well, I wish you'd join me, I've yet to miss a sunrise and I won't start now. "

"Rule number one," said the genie, "you can't wish for immortality. At best I can promise is that you'll live as long as I do, and frankly, I don't know how long a genie lives. I could die immediately upon granting your wishes."

#writeblr #creative writing #writing #this is just the first half #still working out the second part #I would've proofread #but I don't expect much of this

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gracieheartspedro · 2 days ago

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Lessons in Art History

my main masterlist - eddie munson masterlist

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 10.5k (tehe sorry not sorry)

description: eddie needs to graduate. a stupid summer art class is getting in his way. luckily for him, his neighbor and childhood crush is an art history major. and you're ready to make a deal.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, reader is in college, both parties are 18+, mention of abusive parents, drug use, consumption of alcohol, mentions of relying on alcohol, mentions of body mutilation, eddie is a doesn't understand art and you really do, smut, lots of tension, no mention of specific body type, dubcon (both are under the influence, they are tipsy/high), oral (f recieving) unprotected p in v, body worship, dirty talk, eddie cums 'quickly', eddie finishes inside. eddie just really loves your body. aftercare.

authors note: this has been sitting in my docs forever. i finally finished it on a whim. enjoy me combining two things i really love! art history and eddie munson <3 if you guys want to see more of these two, pls don't hesitate to pop in my asks. also thank you to my beta's aka @pedgito and @amanitacowboy! kisses to the both of you! MUAHHH!!

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

Eddie did not understand art.

The fact that he even had to take the stupid art history course in summer school aggravated him. When the teacher would blab on and on about different mediums and their importance to history, he found himself almost dozing off. Sure some of the paintings they were studying were cool, but it seemed very… pretentious.

But he’s failing and he can not be failing.

As soon as he saw your old Chevy pull into the driveway across from his, he knew he was in for a treat this summer. Seeing you again would only send his heart racing, he knew that for sure. When he sees you in passing, mainly when he’s heading to the school in the morning, you always offered a passive wave and pleasant smile. You had only gotten more beautiful since you left for college.

Luckily for him, his childhood crush and next door neighbor was in college studying Fine Arts and she was home for the summer. Finally.

You had just concluded your freshman year at Indiana State University. It had been a dream of yours since you were a kid to go to school for art. Saving all your money made from the diner downtown helped with a good chunk of your first semester and your second semester was proudly sponsored by your rich aunt. Lucky you.

You had plans to spend your summer working on some art pieces to build your resume. Your preferred medium was watercolors and oil paints, so your small bedroom was littered with canvases and cold-pressed sheets. You have lived in this trailer your entire life and it was by far the messiest it’s ever been. Not just from you, but from your mom and younger sister. You spent most mornings picking up after them, and you soon realize that’s all you have ever done your entire life. The reason the house was this bad was because you were now gone and not slaving to keep the base boards dusted.

You needed to get out of the house.

So you started spending time outside, occupying some lawn chairs on your back porch. The shade was limited to one corner of the broken down rotted wood, so you positioned the chair there and set up your easel.

There had been a couple occasions in the time you have been home where you had seen your neighbors and had very basic conversations with them. You said hello to Max Mayfield when she skateboarded past your driveway, but you do not believe she actually heard you. Wayne Munson had waved to you one day when he was leaving for work. And then of course the moments you saw Eddie.

He had not changed one bit, that boy. You had a sneaky small crush on him when you two shared a couple classes together your senior year. You had lived right across from him for practically your whole life, yet when he sat next to you in English class, you felt yourself stealing glances and sharing hushed jokes together. You were not sure if the crush was loosely based because you two were always in close proximity to each other, but he was cute.

One particularly hot afternoon, you hear the crunching of your dying grass on the side of the house. You glance up from your canvas only to see him.

Eddie was supposed to graduate alongside you but between all his absences, bad grades, and mischievous behaviors, he failed. Twice.

You put your paint down on a rusted out table, wiping the excess colors on your shirt with your elementary school mascot on it.

“Hey,” You say lightly, shooting him a gentle smile. You could not lie that your stomach did a bit of a flip when his eyes locked with yours. And just like that, Eddie is reminded why he used to like you so damn much.

Your smile was enough to make a man halt in place, and that’s exactly what he did.

You seemed disheveled, which Eddie found oddly attractive. Your shirt was covered in dry and wet paint, looking like you just wipe whatever paint you’re not using on yourself. It was an array of colors, but mainly different hues of blues and yellows.

He quickly starts to regret his initial plan. Originally he was going to catch you leaving your house one day, asking how college was going, and see if you were interested in helping him study for his next test. But you never left your house at the same time, and he could not just casually hang out outside 24/7 waiting for you. That would be weird. Stalkerish.

So after one particularly bad quiz, he worked up enough courage to walk straight up to you while you sat and worked magic. Problem was, he did not plan what to say, only thinking of it as he approached you. And of course, when you say ‘hello’, he quickly realizes you stole his voice with your gaze.

You just look at him, sensing he must be lost or something.

He finally finds his voice after clearing away some phlegm, “I need your help.”

Your eyes flicker to your canvas, inspecting your work from another angle as you hop off the edge of your deck. Eddie starts to get nervous as you approach him, your eyes still firmly planted on your art.

Eddie used to ask you for the dumbest favors when you two were kids. He used to knock on your door and ask for random ingredients, to walk with him to the mini mart down the street, just anything to get you out of your house and talking to him.

Looking back now, it was kind of sweet he even thought to invite you, but you were not interested in helping with housework or walking along the back roads of Hawkins with him.

You finally look at him, pursing your lips in faux contemplation, “Eddie… I’m not helping you mow the grass-” He waves his hands in the air, halting you from talking. “No… it’s not that. I am in summer school-”

It was your turn to cut him off, planting your hands on your hips, “Again!?”

He exhales, bringing his ringed fingers over his face and dragging his lower lids down in frustration.

Eddie was a lot of things, but he was not stupid. You knew he was smart if he applied himself. Problem was that he was bad about caring about school. You remember the days of sitting behind him in 10th grade Algebra and you almost failed with how much he interrupted class to laugh with some friends in the last row. He was the very opposite of yourself.

He crosses his arms over his Metallica shirt that he’s been wearing for two years, using his fingers to fold his lower lip as you stand like a scolding mother.

“I need to pass this Art History class and I failed the first quiz already. I need it to finish out my credits. Please-” You roll your eyes, matching his stance by crossing your arms. Art History was the easiest subject to you and you adored learning more about it. And Eddie knew that, too. You realize you’ll have wet paint all over your arms as soon as your arm sticks to the front of your shirt.

“What’s in it for me?”

Eddie’s eyebrows raise, surprised that you are open to tutoring him so quickly. You watch him nod his head, dreaming up how he can repay you. “I’ll smoke you up whenever you want. And… whatever else you want, I guess.”

“Smoking me up whenever I want?”

You like the sound of that. You were just like every other art student at your college. Using substances to get you through each day. Lately, it’s been wine you get from the gas station down the road. But drunk painting is not as productive, so you mainly use it to numb all the other depressing things in your life at night.

You missed smoking weed, but you have not had the budget to buy.

But if tutoring Eddie Munson in your favorite subject would get you free weed, you could not say no.

Eddie nods quickly at your response, desperate to pass. And if it meant hanging out with you, too, it was a win-win-win all around. “Yeah, I just need to pass this class-” You cut him off again, “Okay, fine. But we have to do it at your house.”

You did not need him seeing your hoard of paintings and messy house. And now you had an actual excuse to leave your house.

Eddie shakes his head, blinking at you curiously.

“Yeah, no problem,” He claps his hands in front of his body, twisting his foot a bit like a child would, “When can we start?” The wind picks up, and you watch his hair fly across his face. You giggle, watching him brush his locks away from his mouth. You could not deny how cute and endearing he could be occasionally. “What days do you have class?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

This would be a breeze, you think to yourself. You assume immediately that you would only need to see him two days a week. No big deal.

You head back up to your deck, taking your canvas off the easel, “Then I’ll see you on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” You stop in movements as he simply states, “Today is Tuesday, sweetheart.”

Your head shoots around, seeing the cheeky smirk playing on his lips. The nickname he called you sends a slight shiver down your spine. It sounded nice coming from him.

You roll your eyes, though, assuming he means you had to start today.

“Let me grab my notes and change,” His face brightens up at your words. “I’ll be over in 15 minutes.”

You soon realize two days a week was not going to help Eddie. You added Monday evenings to the equation pretty quickly when you realized he did not even have the proper textbook.

“Emerson gave it to me! He told me it was the one he used last year!”

You just rolled your eyes and read his syllables to him, out loud, obnoxiously. He giggled the entire time, commenting about how you should have been a school teacher.

You two would sit in his bedroom from five in the evening until 8 at night, mainly on his unmade bed, going over different texts and art pieces. Around 7, he would offer you to smoke, which you always agreed to. By 8:30, you were high as a kite and ready to go home. He would send you off with a ‘goodnight, sweetheart’ and watch you walk back over to your front door.

You notice pretty quickly he was always fiddling with his hands, tapping his pencils, biting his fingernails. He could not sit still and it drove you insane. You gave him one of your stress balls one day, hoping the silent squishing would ease his jitters, but instead he started throwing it up and the air. You took it from him soon after, scolding him.

He was virtually impossible to teach.

You finally get him on track when they start studying Van Gogh. You would simply help Eddie interpret the art, as well as give him the basics information on the artist.

He thinks it’s funny when you explain how Van Gogh cut off his ear, laughing hysterically when you show him the self portrait.

“Look at his goofy little hat! And the bandage around his head?”

You could not help yourself today. You roll your eyes and sit back against the edge of his bed, trying to redeem your resting easygoing expression. It was becoming too hard, but you distort your smile back on and pivot to him. His face is twisted in amusement, knowing his comment has you reeling.

It was only Monday and you had two more evenings explaining art to him. You could not get him to love the subject, but you try to place the ideas into his day to day life. It seems to stick better when you put it in those terms. It’s hard to do with Van Gogh, sadly, so you just listen to him cracking jokes until it’s time to smoke.

He hands you the joint, his lips pursed in contemplation as you take the hit. You are sitting back against his wall, crossing your legs vertically across his bed. You look more relaxed on his bed than he does.

You exhale, handing him back back the roll. You really needed this high to bring the tension away from your shoulders.

“So, what did you learn today?” You probe, seeing if he actually learned anything. You would not be surprised if he said something about Van Gogh’s ear again. Instead, he just smirks at you, tilting his head back on his wooden headboard.

He takes a drag of the joint, his jaw ticking as he blows out the smoke. “That you’re very patient with me.”

You bite your cheek, preventing yourself for smiling. He could see right through you, no matter how hard you tried to disguise your annoyance with him.

“You’re giving me free weed and all I have to do is explain basic concepts to you,” you explain, reaching over to him, brushing your arm across his knee and thigh. The physical touch leaves goosebumps all over your arm.

“Like 40 times, over and over again.”

You smirk at that, “Again. Free weed.”

“And the company, of course,” He says as he leans forward, poking your thigh with his pointer finger.

The comment makes your stomach flip, butterflies sprouting as you watch his smile get wider.

You honestly would not have done this if it was any other guy from Hawkins High. You hated most of the people you graduated with, knowing they were all assholes or weird. Or both.

And while Eddie was an oddball, he had manners and knew where to draw the line with you. He never made you feel unsafe or awkward. He was just so shamelessly himself and somehow that meshed well with your personality.

“Yeah, you’re alright I guess,” You sneer, trying to act as coy as possible. You could feel the heat burning your cheeks and Eddie noticed it, too. He would not say anything though, just trying to rid his mind of the feeling of your arm brushing across his leg earlier.

“I just don’t get the point of big red squares on big black canvas.”

Week 4 proved to be the week where they throw high school summer school students into the deep end. You curse the teacher as soon as Eddie comes home with print outs of Mark Rothko’s abstract paintings.

You really enjoyed Rothko’s work, having seen it in person in Chicago on a school trip. You almost felt protective over his art.

So when Eddie goes on his normal rambles about how silly art really is, you cannot help yourself.

You grab the print out of the unnamed yellow orange piece, “There’s nothing to get Eddie, it’s just…”

“You said this Rothko guy was this infamous artist and all he does is paint shapes,” He looks at the paper over your shoulder. He’s currently sprawled across his bed, while you sit on his floor with all the dust bunnies. His head is right next to yours and you can feel his curls laying on your bare shoulder.

Why did you wear a tank top today?

You huff, sitting forward a bit, “Eddie, it’s not about what he wanted it to be, it’s what you interpret it as.” “Well it’s squares. That’s all I interpret, sweetheart.”

You inhale a deep breath, the anger rising within you turning quickly into how you could break down the kind-of pretentious pieces. You had to admit that Rothko’s ideas were pretty out there. You also knew that they seemed very grandiose to an average person, but he had his intentions in the right place.

“Can I explain it to you,” You look up at him, your faces inches away. It causes your breath to hitch in your throat. “Cause you’re just… so wrong.”

A smile crosses his face, waiting for you to go into detail. “Go on, princess.”

You look back at the print, cocking your head to the side. You had explained his art to other people before but you knew you would have to phase it down a bit for Eddie.

“Rothko is not telling you to feel one way or another,” You point at the orange part of the pieces, “You may see those squares, but it’s more about the colors. The paint strokes. You see them in person and they are like… all consuming. His point was not to make something for himself, it was so that observer could reflect inward and use his art to their advantage. To grieve. To be happy. To reminisce. So it’s not about the squares. It’s about what the colors evoke.”

His finger points right beside where yours sits on the page, “What does this one say to you?”

You smile as you reflect on the painting. It’s not exactly where it needs to be. Rothko does not need to be a printed flimsy piece of paper, it needs a huge canvas, but it still evokes something in you. With Eddie over your shoulder, the ideas flowing within you sends goosebumps across your neck and back. His closeness only adds to the slowing of your heart rate.

“The yellow and salmon color make me hopeful. Like I can actually get somewhere and be something. It reminds me of some beautiful sunrises I’ve had the privilege of watching. Makes me feel like I’ll be alright.”

Eddie’s eyes search your face, watching your lips twitch as you observe the piece. It kind of spilled out of you. You try not to get too into your perceptions of art with him, simply just giving him information and making him write and conclude his own opinions. But art is the only thing in the world you felt held by and on rare occasions, you had to bare your soul. Eddie was just the unlucky bastard to hear about it.

The gentle way you describe things, every word sounding so precious, made Eddie’s whole head explode with adoration. He spent so many evenings watching you, quietly admiring the way you moved, the way you spoke, and while he knew the crush he harbored was major, it only got worse spending these last few weeks with you. He got to see your little unique quirks up close and he was hopelessly in love with you.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, his voice a bit strained. You glance up at him, completely whiplashed by his response.

The way he’s looking at you makes you believe he does not even realize he said that out loud. His eyes soften, as you scan his face. Your gaze falls to his lips before you finally speak up, your heartbeat in your ears.

“What?”

His eyes widened, realizing his mistake. He sits back and snaps his gaze away from you. Your cheeks heat up as you come to realize you had read the situation correctly. He rubs his hand over his face in embarrassment, trying to gain his bearings.

“I’m.. I didn’t mean to… say that out loud.”

He’s fumbling over his words, which makes a smile creep across your face. You knew what it was to blunder like this, having done it one too many times with guys you liked. You wanted to reassure him without making it seem like too big of a deal. But boy, was it a big deal.

“It’s okay,” You manage to say, trying not to giggle. You cannot help yourself, though. As soon as the breath leaves your mouth, he groans.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He is standing up now, rolling off his bed. His tall frame starts to pace his bedroom, his hands never leaving his face. He could not bear to look at you.

You pull your knees into your chest, trying to ease his nerves with a simple, “Don’t be sorry, it’s completely okay.”

He stops in his tracks, placing his hands on his hips. You cannot help but find him charming, his face all red, his hair untidy, his shirt twisted from the way he was laying. You had to admit, in a not-out-loud-way, that he was beautiful, too.

“You just got on that whole tangent and the passion you had for the art put me in a trance and…” He starts to pace again when he sees your lips curve up, “I just… yeah.”

You giggle, his words sending your heart racing even more, “I put you in a trance, huh?”

He slaps his hand over his forehead, realizing he can not stop saying stupid things. “Studying session over. ‘M rolling a joint.”

It was final day.

The last couple weeks with Eddie consisted of a lot of him really diving in head first into the topics they were discussing in class. While he still needed your guidance on dissecting certain pieces and how they related back to the artists, he was coming home with quizzes that had red scribbled ‘B’s’ on the top of the paper. That’s all he needed to pass.

You had settled with the fact that Eddie was never going to bring up what he said to you again. After that evening, he was hesitant to even sit a foot away from you, always residing on the opposite side of the room.

It hurt a bit. You do not know if he actually meant it or not, and the mystery of it all was eating you alive. When you would let your eyes linger on him for longer than usual, you wanted to crawl out of your skin when he would intentionally look away from you. He was avoiding it, and you knew it.

But Eddie was not avoiding it. God, he wanted to. You were consuming every thought in his head. When he was in class he was thinking about you, because you were teaching him even more than the teacher was. When he was driving home, a song would play and he would somehow relate it to the way your eyes twinkled at him or how your smooth voice would send tingles down his spine. When he was home, trying to have some down time, he would catch himself staring out his bedroom window, wondering what you were doing in your room across the street.

He was officially losing it.

On final day, he got in his car, his fingers nervously tapping his steering wheel, hoping to the heavens and angels that he would pass so he could race over to your front door and leap into your arms in excitement. He just wanted to be near you, always.

When he gets the bubble sheet back and sees a 89/100, he jumps up out of his chair and hoots like a banshee. He could not believe his eyes as he gripped the paper with an iron fist, waving it around to all 4 of his classmates. “I’m graduating, fuckers!”

He could not get home fast enough. With the paper sitting on his dash, he flew over curbs, unable to maintain his excitement at passing the stupid class.

When he pulls into Forest Hills and fails to see your car in your driveway, his heart skips.

Had you left to go back to school early? Without saying goodbye? Were you just out? Maybe you had just gone to the grocery store?

As he parks the van, he snatches the sheet up and takes his time getting in the house. He glances back at your place a couple times, failing to see any signs of life through the slightly drawn open windows. His mind was spinning with all the possibilities, all of them equally making him spiral. He places his test down his record player, swipes up his rolling tray and starts to get as high as he possibly could. He would check your driveway practically every fice seconds, willing you to appear, but after an hour, he ashes out a joint and lays back on his bed, defeated.

You pulled into your driveway, noticing Eddie’s van haphazardly parked in his driveway. You were tempted to pull in front of his house and knock on his front door to ask how the test went, but you were up all night getting drunk and wallowing. A fight with your mother really took everything out of you and you had next-to-no energy.

You waste no time getting inside and throwing on your comfiest pajamas. You cuddle up in your bed, soaking up the quietness of your trailer as you have it completely to yourself tonight. Sleep eventually finds you after a bit, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. You take your time getting up, wandering through the house to the front door. On your way there, you stop and grab the half drunk wine glass on the counter. You had left your current self a little gift last night, it seems.

You get to the front door, slamming the wine before you turn the handle. As you open it, you see his curls first. You wipe the dribble of red liquid away from the side of your mouth, puckering your lips.

“Hey,” You say simply, trying to hide the wine glass behind your back. He knew you drank, but you did not want to look completely disheveled in his presence. You already had bed head. “Hey, uh… I passed,” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping onto his test sheet. He holds it up, a small smile expanding across his face, “I got a B on my final, so… I’m on track to graduate this year.”

He looks nervous, but your heart jumps in excitement for him. This is the best news you have heard all day. You put the wine glass down on the wooden entry table and fly out the door. You wrap your arms around his neck, jumping up and down as you congratulate him. “That’s awesome, Eddie!”

His hand gently graces your waist, shifting your oversized t-shirt up a bit, revealing that there are shorts underneath. You hear a small chuckle escape his throat, almost reflecting some sort of relief.

You really knew how to make him feel special, practically throwing yourself at him. “All thanks to you,” He whispers as you pull away from his grasp. You still have your hand on his neck, pressing your fingers into the collar of his jean vest. “Oh please…” You shift back, dropping your arm to your side. You giggle, watching him crumble the test paper and stuff it into his pocket. You move back a step, “I’m happy though. Truly. You earned it.”

There’s a pause between you two, both just staring at one another. You want him to say something back, unsure if your celebration was a bit too much. His face drops as if he’s remembering something. He digs in his jean’s pocket, hissing as he searches for something. He pulls out a small joint, the rings on his fingers sparkling in the sun’s rays. The sun is finally going down, shadowing a golden hue over Forest Lawn. “I uh.. Have a celebratory joint.. Do you want to smoke?”

Your smile gives away your answer. You push your elbow into the door, opening it wider for Eddie. Having the whole place to yourself would serve you some good tonight, but Eddie was not much of a bother. Plus, free weed.

“Yeah, I actually have the house to myself, if you want to hang here?”

His eyes light up, surprised that you are allowing him in your space, “Are you sure?”

You nod, gesturing him to join you inside, “Yeah, it’s cool. Mom’s working overnight, sister’s at Max’s.”

“Sure, yeah.”

Initially you decide to just hangout in the living room, but then you realize your mother would somehow smell the remnants of marijuana, so you offer Eddie the space of your room. He nods timidly, walking behind you through the kitchen. On your way through, you grab the already half drank wine bottle and walk to the end of the hallway. You push open your door, showing off your messy and cluttered room to Eddie.

“My room’s a mess, just a warning.”

You crack open the nearest window, before settling on your bed. Eddie stands there, taking in your room and art pieces. Stacked canvases take up most of the floor space, as well as a peeling easel. You pat your unmade bed, trying to get him to sit. He toes off his sneakers and plops down on your full-sized bed.

He places the joint between his lips, something you hyperfixate on for a moment. Watching his mouth wrap around something so small makes you pause. His perfectly symmetrical pink lips were something that caught your attention often.

You uncork your wine as he flicks his lighter and pulls some smoke.

“You are gonna smoke, too, right,” He asks, handing over the rolled weed. You take a swig of the bottle, letting the cheap alcohol slide down your throat.

You gesture him the bottle, offering him some of your own vice. He’s a guest, after all. “Yeah, I am. Want some?”

He shakes his head, scrunching his nose at the idea of drinking. “Not a wine guy. Thanks, though.”

You two sit there in a comfortable silence, passing the joint back and forth. When you feel enough of a buzz throughout your body, you stand up and decide to show off your newest pieces.

You had never been one to show off your work. You did not mind if people looked or admired, but you’d rather not be in the room when it was happening. You were more afraid of failure, which to you, was someone not liking your work. Criticism. Such a scary thought.

You grab a painting you created of the woods at the entrance of Forest Hills, a densely packed row of trees with the sun only slightly beaming through some breaks in the leaves. It took you a week to complete it, having spent most of your free time in the evenings with Eddie.

You turn the canvas over with one hand as you grip your wine bottle at the same time. Eddie shifts on your bed, laying on his side and propping his body weight up on his elbow.

The moment his eyes find the canvas, his jaw drops.

“Holy shit, sweetheart. That is incredible,” He sits up on his butt, his dark curls shifting around his shoulders as he does. “You could fill an entire museum with the amount of canvases in here.”

You beam at his words, a sense of unnerving weight that you carry around, suddenly lifting off your shoulders. You felt pride swirl in your stomach, watching him stand and approach one older stack of paintings.

You place the piece of art down, feeling the tackiness of the clear coat on your fingertips.

“That’s the dream, one day.”

He shifts some watercolors you did around, staring at them with the joint between his lips. He looks so focused and enamored with your work. It’s endearing seeing him able to admire art after dealing with him for weeks just poking fun at it. “Oh, you’ll get there,” he states with confidence, the bud wiggling between his teeth with his words. He takes it out of his mouth, finally looking back over to you. The rush of heat to your cheeks could be attributed to the alcohol, but he is sure it is because of his praise. “You’re incredible.”

And you can tell he means it. What you don’t know is he means it in every sense. Your artistic ability is just the tip of the iceberg.

He swallows, letting the tension rise a bit as you muster up the courage to step closer to him. The joint is burnt out, now just a roach between his fingers. You place the almost empty wine bottle on your desk, practically invading Eddie’s space as you step one foot closer.

The weed has loosened him up a bit. His body feels weightless and his mouth is one of the muscles that has relaxed with the rest of his limbs.

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispers, looking down at you with a lopsided grin. The moment is reminiscent of the first time he told you that, but the energy in the room is more charged than last time.

The whites of his eyes are red, his lids drooping a bit more. You can feel the heat flush your cheeks as his gaze falls down over your face and to your lips.

“Thanks, Eds,” your voice not crawling over a whisper. This time when you acknowledge his compliment, he does not backpedal. His eyes don’t stray away, nervously finding a way to bring up a new conversation. No, this time, he’s confident and sure fire about telling you how he felt.

He had been holding onto it for so long, and soon, you would be back at school. He knew your mind would stray to other places, other things, other guys. And he knew he would not be able to live with himself if he did not express his feelings for you.

“Truly, I mean it,” He mutters, shifting on his other leg. You can tell by the way he’s fiddling with his rings, he is nervous. The only thing you can think of is his lips, especially when he licks them, “You are… probably the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

The statement catches you off guard at first. Maybe it’s the alcohol distorting your confidence, or maybe it’s the nerves of him getting an inch closer. You clear your throat, finally darting your eyes away from his mouth. “You are high.”

A smile spreads across his face which warms your skin, prickling tiny bumps scattering down your arms. “And right,” He emphasizes, placing the roach down by your wine bottle. Instead of putting his arm down, his hand inches towards the curve of your cheek. There’s a glint in his eye, something hinting at you to lean towards him. And you do. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

Your eyes flicker away, your vision falling onto your bedroom door. You had hung up a mirror there when you were 12 and became hyper aware of your appearance. Your mom was very good at making you feel inferior, so you would spend hours sitting on your bed and staring into your mirror with contempt. You had learned how to love yourself a bit more since you were not living at home, but coming back has only reminded you of all the things you hate about yourself. But the characteristics you did like about yourself seemed to shine a bit more as you stood next to Eddie.

“I think I have pretty traits,” You muster up, looking away from your own reflection. Eddie does not accept that. The moment your head snaps back in his direction, his fingers drifting down to your jawline, “No, baby, you are the whole package. Not just a couple things. You’re perfect.”

Perfect. You had never been appreciated by any guy like this. You did not know Eddie had it in him.

“Eddie, you’re just saying that-” He somehow forces you to look in his eyes. He levels with you, his eyes looking serious and bloodshot, “I’m truly not just saying it to say it. I… I have thought like this since like 8th grade, sweetheart.”

It feels like all the air has been pushed out of your chest. You choke out two words, “You what?”

And then Eddie cannot help himself. It’s like he had been gearing up his entire life for this moment. He just needed the push. And the way you are looking at him right now is enough for him.

“The moment I realized I was completely beside myself into you was when you pushed that girl on the school bus for saying I was a freak for having longer hair. You literally pushed her into the aisle and stepped over her to get off the bus with me. I knew then I was a goner. You were all I could see.”

The day is so vivid in your mind. You even remember the t-shirt you were wearing that day. It was a memory that stuck with you, too. You did not realize you had made such an impact on him. It’s endearing to know he thought about you in that way. Endearing and… reassuring?

You try to break the tension, clearing your throat, “Well, she was being a bitch.” But he does not laugh, he just stares down at you. The rise and fall of his chest insinuates that he’s on the verge of panicking if you do not respond positively. “Yeah, she was.”

The silence eats away at you. The last part of his statement bounces around in your brain.

“A goner?”

Your nose wiggles and Eddie cannot deny how much he just wants to lift you off your feet and ravish you in that moment. You did not know the effect you had on him just by changing your facial impression to something so disgustingly cute. But it was the way you shifted under his gaze, your hand trailing up to his side, toying with the hem of his raggedy band t-shirt.

He returns the touch, his other hand propping up on your waist. The warmth moves around to your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

“Yes, princess. A goner.”

His eyes droop and his mouth stays ajar as you too creep closer and closer together. The energy is surging off the ways, striking you in the back and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hand trails down to your neck, the coldness of his rings shocking your system further the moment they touch your collarbones.

You lick your lips, slowly. It’s enough to make Eddie groan.

“You still feel that way?”

He shakes his head, almost to say ‘duh’. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely. You sticking by me all summer and puttin’ up with me only confirmed that I am practically in love with you.”

Your heart could hammer out of your chest at any moment. You feel the chills only further drive your nerves. You shake your head, your hand now balling up his shirt. It’s almost like a threat. “I don’t believe you-” He cuts you off before you can continue. “Let me prove it to you.”

You watch his hands carefully drift down your chest, his fingers resting right on your breast bone. Your breath hitches and you slowly release the fabric between your fingers. You cannot help but trail your eyes back up to his lips, watching him teasingly lick them before leaning in further to you.

His pupils are huge and you are almost positive it’s because of the weed.

But it is not just that. Your scent alone is enough to make his cock swell in his tight black jeans. You have yet to notice, but once you do, Eddie knows his cheeks will go bright red.

The smell of weed is slowly being pulled out of your room by the crisp evening air pouring in from your window. It brings in a chill that has you shifting closer to feel his hot breath on your face. He is suddenly your heat source.

His head cowers down, his wet lips pressing hesitantly against your jaw. Your voice quivers as he drags his lips all the way to your chin. Your lips are so close, he could just press them together. But somehow that seems more intimate.

“Is this okay?” He ponders, millimeters from your mouth. You swallow back a hasty hum.

“Mhm.”

You were never shy of making the first move in situations like this, but your body has completely locked up. You are at his mercy and you are almost positive you would let him do anything to you right now.

His hands move quickly, sliding down your curves and committing them to memory.

You just close your eyes and wait. You feel it coming and seeing him get closer is going to send your heart beating out of your chest. When his lips finally grace yours, you two move slowly. Dragging out each movement, tongues slowly slipping past teeth.

Your brain draws a blank for a beat, not fully digesting the fact that you are kissing him. After weeks of getting high with him, teaching him about a subject you're passionate about, and that slight tension in the air. Especially after he first called you beautiful. That night you went home and tossed and turned in your bed.

Now he’s gently backing you up to the edge of the mattress, causing you to drop onto your bed with a bounce. He does not waste any time, connecting lips again and giggling as you lay on your back.

Eddie cannot believe you are below him, so willing to do something like this with him. The moment he starts to get in his head about it, he slowly pulls away from you, almost not to alarm you in any way.

But the way you look at him. He feels this pull in his chest, like a gravitational drift back to you. He hovers above you, eyes searching your face.

“God, you couldn’t get any more perfect.”

The heat returns to your entire body. “Stop.”

“Never, sweetheart.”

It seems like he’s going back in for another kiss, but instead he’s pressing his lips against your cheeks. You cannot help the smile that takes over your face. Your hands find a good spot, raking your nails gently through his scalp. The groans that escape him send pulsating need to your core.

The moment you wrap your leg around his, it’s like a signal for him to further his exploration. His mouth drags across your skin, leaving his saliva in its wake. When he stops at the base of your throat, your hips jolt forward. You feel his jeans straining to keep his cock in one spot.

“More,” You mewl, your shorts riding up with your t-shirt, revealing your thighs and hips to him. He cannot help the strangled chuckling that comes out when you start to beg for him. As if he could not get any harder.

“More, huh?” His digits spread out, dragging up your oversized shirt and kneading your flesh. The motion has you grinding against his leg even more. He’s dragging it out and it’s so painful. You wish he would just rip the bandaid off and completely unravel you.

He spares you the pleading and pushes up the fabric to reveal your bare chest. You had not planned to have guests and to be quite frank, you completely forgot you had no bra on. You thought he would have to fumble around to get the full display. He puts his weight on his one knee, admiring you for a moment. You get a bit nervous when he pulls away, only to quickly realize he’s brushing his hair up into a bun.

It gives you a better look at the beautiful smile on his face and his lust blown brown eyes.

“Can’t let the hair get in the way of all the things I’m about to do to you,” He admits, pecking you over and over again until you are laughing. “I can’t believe we are doing this.”

“I can,” You quip up, watching him unhinge his jaw right above your right nipple, “I see the way you look at me.”

Eddie shakes his head, his stubble brushing your flesh. His giggles subsiding the moment his lips wrap around your areola. You knew you were sensitive but you never felt so overstimulated in your life. The way his hands feel scooping your flesh. The way he is practically trying to fit your entire tit in his mouth. His guttural groans bouncing off your walls and canvases.

He consumes every one of your senses.

“Been dying to see you like this. You have the prettiest titties I’ve ever seen,” His voice is so gravelly and dripping with desire. Eddie needs to break the tension in his jeans, so while you are slipping your shirt off entirely, he pops the button on his pants. The zipper practically unfastens itself when he presses into you again, ravishing every inch of your chest. One hand on your waist, the other kneading your boob, all the while your hips are gyrating against his thigh.

“Need more of you, Eds,” You plead, hoping to whatever god existed that he would litter your floor with all of his clothes. You watch him free his hand from fondling you to pull his t-shirt off from the collar, only briefly coming up for air from feasting on your chest. “Take off my shorts.”

The moment you say that, his eyes bore into yours. “You sure?”

“Eddie,” You press, pushing stray hairs away from his face, “I need you so bad, I may explode.”

“Jesus, say that again.”

You cannot help but scoff, your reaction making your boobs jiggle in front of his face. You lean up to his level, pressing a long drawn out kiss to his neck before bringing your lips to his earlobe, “I need you. So bad.”

The animalistic groan that leaves his throat even takes him by surprise. He stands up, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and practically ripping them in half. You squeak, adjusting how your panties sit on your hips.

“Listen here, pretty girl, I am going to eat your pussy until you cum at least two times. And I’m gonna take my time. Then, if I don’t cum from doing that alone, I’m filling you up and fucking you exactly how I’ve wanted to for the last… I don’t know how many years.”

His game plan makes your stomach do gymnastics. His confidence in his words is simply derived from his primal need to please you.

Sure, he wants to get his rocks off, but he could live the rest of his days with blue balls, if it meant seeing you cum all over his mouth over and over again.

The creak of the bed makes Eddie giggle. You have had this bed since you were 11, it has seen better days.

He positions himself on his stomach, throwing your legs over his shoulder. Your panties were perfectly disguising the wetness that’s been pooling since Eddie started touching you. It was the only article of clothing left on your body. You want to feel insecure, but all of Eddie’s reassuring words wash over you. He sucks in a deep inhale, taking in your essence.

“Can I take these off?” He tuts, pressing his fingers perfectly between your fabric-covered folds. The pressure is almost enough to send you over the edge. The craving you have for him is borderline embarrassing.

“Please,” You whimper, shifting your hips a bit trying to feel any friction you can. He pulls his fingers away, lacing them around the hem of your blue panties. Instead of locking his eyes on your glistening core, his gaze follows the panties being pulled from your legs. Once they are discarded, he presses wet kisses against the inner part of your legs.

“You look like a dream, all spread out for me,” He admits, his face now hovering over your core, “You know I dreamt this before?”

He had. Countless times. Last summer when he watched you pack up your car for college, you were wearing these dangerously short daisy dukes and he stroked his cock about it for two months straight. Late at night, when he needed a release, he thought of you. He did not get much actual action in his day-to-day life, so his mind was consumed by his soul shattering crush on you.

“Eddie, I need you to do something.”

He ignores your pleas, dragging his lips across the skin right above your slit. He slowly drifts down, running his tongue through your folds, tasting every bit of you.

“Just me having my face buried between your thighs,” He slaps them gently before digging his nails into the meat of your thighs. “God, these thighs… just so perfect.”

You jut your hips down, practically forcing his mouth on you. As much as you loved his dirty talk, you needed action. “Eddie.”

He chuckles, pulling his arm from underneath you. He takes his own fingers in his mouth, lacing his own spit between his digits, “You are so pretty when you say my name, baby. You want me to touch this beautiful pussy, hm? She’s just leaking for me, huh?”

You grit your teeth, watching him spread your pussy lips apart and drag his fingers all along your weeping hole. “I swear to God-” “I’m gonna fuck you with my tongue, don’t worry baby,” He pushes your thighs open wider, “Just painting my own little picture first.”

Truth be told, he was trying to drag this out so he could commit everything to memory. You would be leaving for school again soon, so who knows if this will ever happen again?

In your head, with the way he’s treating your body like a canvas in the finest art museum in New York City, he would be packed in your suitcase and dragged back to school with you. You needed this, always.

You are pulled out of your thoughts when his mouth returns to your pussy, his tongue vibrating against your swollen clit. His fingers make work at fucking your hole, all the while his loose-lips occupy themselves making you feel good. Sure, you got head by guys before, but Eddie creates a whole different category in your brain. Maybe it is because you liked him so much and your body moved in sync with his. You were consumed by his very being.

His hips grind against his underwear and your bed sheets with every movement of his mouth. As he’s dragging your first orgasm out of you, he completely halts his lower body before he’s cumming in his jeans watching your body jolt forward and thighs clench around his ears. The sounds that pour out of you is music to his ears. Just enough to send him so close to the edge.

The mixture of your cum and his saliva on his lips is something you wish to harness in a painting one day. His loose curls falling around his profile as his tongue sweeps across his lips to gather everything onto his taste buds.

“God, this pussy is heaven. Fuckin’ divine.” He rubs his fingers up and down your slit, giving it a quick swat before he peppers some kitten licks across your already sensitive clit.

“You are so good at that, my God,” You breathe out, your hands raking down the sides of your body, meeting his right hand on your thigh.

“Yeah?” he giggles, shifting up onto his elbows to get a better view of your body from above, “I really want to make you cum again.”

You don’t hide how desperate you are, “Can you just fuck me already?”

He laughs even harder, crawling up onto your lower stomach. He kisses right below your belly button, “Can I be honest?”

“No, I want you to lie to me,” You joke, your nails drifting around his forearm. His eyebrows raise, questioning your response silently. You roll your eyes, swatting him, “Yes, of course.”

“If I fuck you right now, I will cum almost immediately,” He admits, his voice gravelly.

“Well, we can go another round if you do.”

It’s like all the air leaves his lungs when you say that. He did not expect you to want to do this again. As much as he wanted to, he did not truly know where your mind was. You just drove the nail right into the coffin.

He pulls himself further up your body, his hand shifting to cup your mound as his mouth latched on your nipple. Your body instantly reacts to him, practically holding onto him for dear life, moaning his name like it was the only word you knew.

“Fine, I’ll fuck you now,” He mocks, dragging his lower lip up to your neck, “Since you’re just begging.”

You scoff, your hands finally reaching the waist of his jeans and yanking them down with his boxers. You would ignore the fact that he’s wearing Batman boxers. It was fitting, but also hilarious. You are more focused on the fact that he was huge.

Definitely the biggest you’ve ever held in your hand.

He looks between your bodies, smiling at the way your hand cradles his length. “Are you sure I’m not dreaming right now?”

This only happened in his dreams. It was about to consume your dreams, too, when you were done.

“All real,” You say, languidly pumping him, “I’m not sure how you’re gonna make it fit.”

You are feeding his ego. You knew that.

You are one of the prettiest girls to come out of Hawkins and you are saying he’s too big. He’s never going to shut up to Gareth and the guys about it. With your permission of course.

“Don’t you worry about that, princess. I’ll make sure it fits.”

He shifts onto his knees, propping your knees up on his waist. You gawk at it for a moment longer. His tip is glistening with precum, which only adds to the silkiness of it's appearance. You also have the perfect angle to feel up his chest, touching each of his tattoos with your pointer finger, as if to map each of them out. You offer a cheeky grin as he appreciates the swell of your breasts.

“Do you need me to get a condom?” He whispers, his cock probing at your inner thigh.

“I’m on the pill. And I’m… I haven’t slept with any guys without one.”

His jaw drops a bit, “And you are okay with me going in raw?”

You are not sure why you are so sure about Eddie, but you just are. All of this felt just right.

“Yeah. Only if you want to.”

Air escapes his nose dramatically as he uses his thumb to press down his shaft closer to your weeping hole. “Have I mentioned that you are perfect?”

“A million times now.”

“Gonna make it a hundred million by the end of this,” He sinks closer to you, his dripping tip diving between your lips, “And a trillion more times after.”

He drags himself over you, propping himself up right beside your head. The stretch starts to get more intense the more he slides into you. It is not a bad feeling, just something you would have to adjust to.

And he would have to adjust, too. The way your spongy walls squeeze him is so overwhelming, before he’s half way in, he twitches. “You’re squeezing me so good.”

“I’ll try to relax,” You manage, the quick snap forward he does taking you off guard, “Fuck, Eddie!”

“I’m sorry! I-” He tries to explain, but you shut him up by propping yourself up to meet his lips. He stills inside you, filling you to the brim but not moving. You were eager to shut him up before he made things awkward, because they simply did not need to be. He felt incredible. And with his lips slotted between yours, you feel as if you may have died and gone to heaven. You take his bottom lip between your teeth playfully as you pull away, eyes locked onto his, “Do it again.”

He experimentally pulls back, the lack of resistance as he fucks into you only possible because of how soaked you are. He repositions himself so he’s back on his knees, eyes locked on the way your pussy just sucks him in.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last,” He reminds you, pushing himself in deeper. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling for a bit. You cannot help but smirk at him, looking down as his hips snap to yours sluggishly.

“Yeah? Pussy’s too good for you?” You pose, trying your very best to drive him even more insane. There was something about his eyes when he got all worked up. They become this deeper shade of brown that causes chills to spread over your arms. When he finally looks back at you, a cheshire grin spreading across his face, you knew you were in for it.

He picks up his pace a bit, holding your upper thighs down. If he looks down at what’s happening below the waist, he will surely lose it. So instead, his almost carbon-black eyes bore into yours. With every moan and jolt against the bed, you are inching towards your own climax. “Yes, don’t stop. Don’t stop, please.”

His smile droops a bit, his teeth clenching as the pace he’s at is causing the headboard to slam against your wall, “Yeah? I want to hear you. Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart. You know how much I love hearing you talk.”

The words send you babbling. Your pussy is practically gushing around him, but your body has yet to explode. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Eddie. Why didn’t we do this sooner? Knew you’d treat me good. So fuckin’ good.”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, baby. Gonna fuck you every day just to make it up to you. I promise,” He accidentally steals a glance at your messy cunt and his dick twitches, “Ah shit, fuck.”

He knows he’s a goner. The way you squeeze him when he says that makes him take action to put you out of your pleasurable misery. He presses his thumb against your practically pulsating clit. The mixture of his pistoning hips and his frantic fingers makes your orgasm slam into you like a freight train. You grab onto whatever is close and curl your fingers around it. It just happens to be his t-shirt and your bed comforter.

With your mouth wide open, you keen endless curse words, trying your best not to alarm the nearby neighbors.

As your come down starts to soothe your buzzing nerves, Eddie’s hips still completely inside you.

You had never seen him so ethereal. His curls wild, his brow furrowed in concentration, his pale stomach muscles tense, jaw slack. He was surely your next muse.

“My god, princess,” He sighs, his body practically going limp over yours.

His hair falls around your mouth and nose as his head rests perfectly between your boobs. The curls tickle your nostrils, causing you to blow out aggressively.

“I love you, but please get your little hairs out of my nose,” You joke, pushing his hair down. The bun he put at the base of his head is practically completely undone, leaving his dark locks pooling all around you.

While you are too focused on his hair, Eddie’s ears are ringing at the first half of the sentence. His head slowly shifts to look up at you, his eyes now that beautiful warm hue. “You love me?”

His voice is shaking, nervous over the possibility you did not mean to say that. But it was one of those things. Instinctual. You knew you did love Eddie, so those words leaving your mouth seemed natural. You felt no need to retract them.

You nod, pushing some bangs away from his view, “Is that surprising? I don’t spend my precious summers with people I hate. I especially do not let them into my bedroom and let them look at all my paintings.”

The revelation is enough to make Eddie crawl up to your lips, pressing a chaste, eager kiss. His hand cradles your cheek as he pulls away, “I’m just that special.”

“You could say that.”

He laughs softly, “For the record, and I know we are keeping one, I love you, too.”

The goodbye always sucks.

You did not love being home, but this trailer was truly all you knew. You secretly did not despise Hawkins. It was home.

And now it was even more like home because it’s where Eddie was. So this goodbye is even worse than it was before.

He pulls your last suitcase into your Ford, closing the hitch for you as you hug your sister goodbye at the door. You walk down your creaking steps, eyes glued to the way Eddie stands at the back of your car. You practically fall into his arms, squeezing him so tight that you swear he may just mold to your body.

His hands do not want to leave your waist as his nose tucks into your neck.

“I’ll come visit you in a few weeks, I promise,” He hums, kissing the spot right below your ear. A slight chill runs up your spine. You will never get sick of his kisses. You have gotten very familiar with them lately.

“And I’ll come to visit in October for that Battle of the Bands,” You say as you pull away to get a good look at his face. His sweet, blushing face. “I’ll join your hoard of groupies.”

He scoffs, shifting back as if he’s appalled, “Hoard? That’s a bit dramatic. We have like… maybe 2.”

You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. “Yeah, me and that girl Jeff drags around.”

“Jennifer is his cousin.”

You shake your head, completely dumbfounded, “Even worse.”

He laughs dryly in his throat, “I think she has a crush on Gareth or something.”

From the few times you have hung out with his group of friends in the last two weeks of your summer vacation, you did not get that impression from the girl. She seems very into her cousin.

“Right on,” You laugh, pulling him towards the driver’s side so you can get in, “Give me a grand kiss in front of the neighbors and let me go on my merry way.”

His hands lace around your back, groping your ass, “I’ll give ‘em an even better show if you want.”

You bring him down to your height, pressing a longing kiss to his lips. He deepens it, his groping now turning into him kneading your ass cheeks. You pull away the moment he does that, knowing your mom is probably watching from the kitchen window.

“You are a devious one, Munson,” You snicker, weaving your way out of his arms and into your driver’s seat. You start the car, letting it warm up as Eddie leans his hands on the very top of the car doorframe. His entire body blocks out the blistering sunlight, his shadow casting over your eyes.

“Yeah, maybe, but you love me.”

Your eyes flicker back up to him. God, you really did love him.

He slants more towards you, placing one more kiss on your mouth. Your stomach starts to roll when it hits you that you will not get to see him for the next few weeks. It makes your chest tighten the more you thought about it.

“I sure do.”

His nose crinkles, his eyes getting weepy, “I love you, too, sweetheart. Now, get on the road and call me sometime tonight? Let me know you made it safely?”

You lift your hand in a salute, “Of course, my art apprentice.”

np tags (love u guys and i gotta tag some of my fav eddie/steve writers): @mediocredreams @hockeyhughes @votel4dybird @minamoomoo @disabilitymissunderstood @the-unforgivenn @punkrockmlchael @keeryhours

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson au #eddie stranger things #gracieheartspedro #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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nephynes · 2 days ago

Note

clingy obsessed sub jungwon and fem reader please!

hope you like it xx

MDNI

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It's 8:03 in the morning, and Jungwon is already pouting. You haven't even had your coffee yet. "Why do you have to go?" he mumbles, curled into your side, shirtless and clingy, hair still a little messy from sleep. "Just... stay home. Call out."

"You know I can't," you sigh, smoothing his hair. "Not all of us have hefty trust funds to live off of, baby." He glares at the ceiling like it’s the cause of his current dilemma. "I could get a job."

"You say that every morning."

"I mean it this time."

You snort. "No, you don't."

He whines low in his throat and buries his face in your chest like that might convince you to stay. You've already brushed your teeth, packed your bag, and you're half in your blazer, but none of that matters to him. Not when he's in one of his moods. “I’ll give you my trust fund”.

"What am I supposed to do without you?" he mutters lower. "It's so boring here."

"I gave you a list yesterday," you remind him, amused. "Read, walk the dog, go to the gym—"

"Don't wanna." He shakes his head.

"You could finally try that art class you signed up for."

He glares harder. "Don't wanna." You sigh, and he just clings tighter. "You don't even like your job that much," he adds softly. "You always come home exhausted."

Yeah. Because he drains you first.

You think of last night, how you came home late, still in your pencil skirt and heels, barely even through the front door before he had you pressed to the couch. Clutching your waist and mouthing at your neck. Humping your thigh like a dog in heat, whining against your shoulder that he missed you so bad it hurt.

You didn't even get to change or take your clothes off first. He came in his boxers while you were still wearing your work blouse.

You never said it out loud, but you liked him that desperate and shameless. And now here he is, wrapped around you like a koala, soft and whiny and impossibly hard through his briefs. You glance down and sure enough, he's already grinding against your hip, like he doesn't even realize he's doing it.

"Jungwon."

He blinks up at you, already breathless. "Just a little. Please?"

"I'm in a rush."

"You always say that."

"Because I am."

He whines again, rutting up helplessly. "I can't help it," he breathes. "You smell so good and your skin's soft and I miss you. So much. I didn't even sleep right."

"I was literally in bed next to you."

"Yeah, but not in me."

You choke on a laugh. "You're unbelievable."

He whimpers as you pull away, chasing you with his arms and his hips. "Can you at least let me finish on your thigh again? Just—just real quick, promise."

You raise a brow. "You came on me twice yesterday."

"I know." His voice dips into a whine, so pretty and pathetic it almost makes you cancel your whole day. "But it's morning now. And I'm lonely."

You sigh and zip your skirt up. “No baby, I have to go” you say kissing his forehead and leaving the room.

Jungwon knew you weren't supposed to come home until five. It's barely noon right now and you only stopped by to grab your laptop bag you left on the kitchen counter, maybe heat up some leftovers too. Definitely not to find Jungwon sprawled out on the couch like a goddamn heathen, shirtless, flushed, panting, with one of your panties bunched in his fist and another stretched over his nose.

You freeze in the doorway and he doesn't even notice.

He's too far gone, hips jerking up into his slick palm, whining under his breath like he's in pain. "Baby," he moans, high and broken. "Miss you so much. Smell so fucking good, fuck—"

Your eyes flicker to the kitchen counter. Your work blazer from yesterday is crumpled there, and your laptop bag is open beside it. You left it this morning and he rummaged through your shit like a pervert, looking for God knows what.

You take one quiet step forward watching him gasp, rutting faster, shameless and soaked, cock flushed and twitching in his hand. "Can't do anything when you're not here," he pants. "Can't fucking think. Just need you so bad, I—I can't—fuck, please—"

"Please what?"

His eyes fly open. And instead of covering himself or scrambling for an excuse, Jungwon just whimpers.

"Oh my god," he breathes. "You're here."

"Yeah," you say dryly. "Caught red-handed. Or should I say—"

"Don't say it," he groans, cheeks pink but not stopping for one second. "God, don't say it or I'll cum."

You raise a brow, folding your arms. "You're disgusting."

"I know," he gasps, biting his lip as his hips stutter. "I missed you so much, needed your scent, your voice, your everything—please baby, don't go back yet, I'll be good, I swear—"

"You call this good?"

He nods frantically. "I didn't cum yet."

"Not for lack of trying."

You stride forward, snatch the panties off his nose, and press your knee between his legs. He keens immediately, already grinding up against it like last night.

"Want it here again?" you murmur.

"Yes. Yes please—fuck, yes—"

You smile. "Five minutes, actually no. Lay back. I’m gonna use your face.

He moans like the thought of you doing that is the best gift he's ever received.

You're supposed to be in control. That was the whole point of this—flip him onto his back, straddle his face, maybe ride it for a minute while you stroke his cock and make him beg. He lives for that, getting teased until he's flushed and twitching, getting permission to cum like it's some holy reward.

But this?

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Because right now your hips are grinding down without rhythm, your thighs are shaking, and the hand you had wrapped around his cock is barely moving anymore—your grip loosening with every flick of his tongue, every groan he lets out into your pussy like he's fucking grateful just to be beneath you.

You bite your lip, breath catching. "Fuck, baby—slow down—"

But he doesn't, you don’t even think he can. He's completely gone, drunk off your taste, grinding his tongue over your clit with frantic, messy strokes like it's his pleasure on the line. His fingers clutch your thighs, holding you down like he needs the weight, like he wants to disappear inside you completely.

It's unhinged. He's unhinged.

You don’t even think it’s about making you cum anymore, it's about him now. He's panting and flushed and moaning into you like he's the one being fucked, hips jerking helplessly beneath you, cock untouched but leaking all over his stomach, twitching with every gasping breath. You try to lean forward, force yourself to finish him off properly, but your body betrays you.

Your hand slips.

Your thighs tighten around his head.

You swear under your breath and sit up instead—watching from above as he ruts up into nothing, mouth still working like it's all he knows how to do. “Oh baby.”

His abs clench. His moan cracks and is muffled beneath your thighs and then, he cums.

Unprovoked and unstimulated, just from having your pussy on his face and the sound of your voice in his ears. You feel it before you see it—his whole body stuttering beneath you, a sharp inhale against your cunt, and then he's spilling all over himself with the neediest whimper you've ever heard. It's obscene and almost feral.

And he still doesn't stop.

Even as his cum coats his stomach, even as he trembles under the weight of you, he keeps eating you out like it's oxygen—desperate and messy and so fucking good it pushes you over the edge right after. “Want it, gimme cum—baby please.” He talks into you, edging you further.

You gasp, hips bucking, thighs shaking as your orgasm crashes down, and he just moans into it, lapping it up like he's starving. “Wonie! Baby! Oh Fu—Ahh!”

When you finally stop shaking—barely, you exhale hard and lean back, bracing yourself on the arm of the couch, staring down at him still between your legs.

He's looks ruined. Sweaty, flushed, soaked in his own cum, mouth still parted like he's waiting for more.

And he smiles. All dazed and sweet and proud of himself like he didn't just hump the air and almost pass out on your pussy like it was his fucking job.

You rake a hand through your hair, chest still rising and falling. "You," you mutter, breathless. "Are out of your fucking mind."

Jungwon hums, still dazed, eyes fluttering. "I love you." He says as he reaches for your phone, and you know it’s to call your work to tell them you’re not coming back in today.

══════════════════════════

• a/n: sizzle sizzle

#enha hard thoughts #enha hard hours #enha smut #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #jungwon smut #enhypen smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader

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mintyys-blog · 22 hours ago

Note

I just re-watched the last season of Invincible, and little Oliver trying to keep his mom safe had me in my feelings lol.

Could you write something for the Mark variants where, during the attack, they come looking for the reader. Maybe to kill her or use as a tool to hurt the main!Mark?

Only find the reader and main!Mark's child is trying to stop them from hurting his pregnant momma. The reader is of course trying to stop her son, but the kid has his father's hero complex and morals.

Thank you so much in advance!!!!!! 😭😭🩵🩵🩵

MY HERO | mark grayson x reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: mention of killing, pregnancy

Your son stood in front of you like a wall made of hope and heartbreak. Small fists clenched. Knees shaking. Face set in the same stubborn line his father used to wear before launching into fights he shouldn’t win.

Eight versions of that same face stared him down.

Each one twisted. Broken. Wrong.

“You don’t scare me,” your son said, voice thin but sharp.

Mohawk Mark grinned wide, a gleam of something unhinged in his eyes. “You should be scared, kid. You’re not built for this.”

“I won’t let you hurt her.”

“You will, actually,” Mohawk said, stepping forward. “You’ll let me. Because I’m gonna put you down so fast—your mom won’t even finish screaming before you hit the dirt.”

“Touch him,” you said, voice like cracked glass, “and I swear—”

“What?” Mohawk chuckled. “You gonna cry me to death?”

Sinister Mark didn’t even laugh. He was staring at you like you were already dead. “We kill them both. Clean sweep. No variables. No leverage. Just quiet.”

“He’s a child,” you said.

“He’s a risk,” Sinister snapped. “And you’re the root of it.”

“She’s pregnant,” Viltrumite Mark interrupted, his tone flat. Unbothered. “She lives. That’s all that matters.”

“He’s her child too,” Sinister growled.

“I don’t care about the boy,” Viltrumite Mark said, arms folded, gaze locked on your stomach. “The fetus has Viltrumite blood. That makes it valuable. She’s the container. That’s all.”

Your son flinched at that. You felt it like a knife.

“She’s not a thing,” he said. “She’s my mom.”

“Cute,” said Maskless Mark, rubbing the back of his neck like this was all just tiresome. “But none of this matters if someone makes a decision.”

Prisoner Mark stepped forward, watching you. He didn’t look angry. Just resigned. “We’re wasting time. Kill the boy. Take the woman.”

Omni Mark said nothing. He hovered behind the others, watching. Waiting. Detached.

Target Mark was pacing, annoyed. “If we keep arguing, someone else is going to find them first.”

“He’s slowing her down,” Sinister said. “The kid’s an anchor. Kill him, she moves quicker.”

“And risk the fetus?” Viltrumite Mark shot back.

“He’s not even Viltrumite.”

“He’s a memory,” Prisoner said. “A weakness.”

Your son glanced up at you. Scared, but steady. “I’m not leaving you.”

And maybe they thought the debate meant you were frozen. That the fear had rooted you there like a statue.

But fear wasn’t the only thing in your veins.

You moved while they were still arguing—hands snatching your son’s, legs burning as you ran. You darted through the chaos before it could collapse, your son nearly airborne behind you.

None of them expected it. Not really.

Viltrumite Mark shouted something, but he didn’t follow—he didn’t care about the boy.

They could crush mountains. Shatter planets. But they couldn’t stop you from running for your children.

Your lungs burned. Your legs screamed. But you didn’t stop. Your son’s hand clutched yours so tight it hurt, but he didn’t let go either—just like his father.

Behind you, the sound of eight fractured gods arguing over your fate echoed through the rubble. Words like “expendable,” “risk,” “valuable” were flung around like shrapnel.

None of them saw you as a person. Except maybe your son. Except maybe your Mark. And right now, you needed him more than ever.

Sinister Mark’s voice cut through the noise like a blade: “She’s running. They’re running!”

“They won’t get far,” Prisoner Mark growled.

“Enough!” Viltrumite Mark snapped. “If the fetus is harmed, I’ll kill every one of you myself.”

But then the air shifted.

A faint, electric buzz tickled the back of your neck—like static before a storm. Your son felt it too, glancing up just as a shimmer of violet-blue energy blinked into existence in front of you.

“Mom—?”

Cecil, no warning, just a grimace and a portable teleport beacon in hand. His voice was urgent and cold.

“Don’t stop. Come now.”

You didn’t question it. You threw your arm around your son and all but dove into the energy field. You heard Sinister Mark scream your name like a curse just as the light swallowed you whole— And then you were gone.

The warehouse was sterile. Cold. Safe.

You stumbled as the light faded, nearly collapsing, your son clinging to your side.

“Are you—Mom! Are you okay?!” he asked, panicked.

You nodded, breathless, holding him so tight it hurt. “I’m okay—I’m okay, baby. You’re okay.”

“Jesus Christ,” Cecil muttered, lowering the beacon. “I got there just in time. They were—”

“Where is he?” you gasped. “Mark—my Mark—”

“Right here.”

You turned.

He was already running.

His hair was a mess, eyes red-rimmed from either battle or fear, hands still shaking as he caught you in his arms.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, burying his face in your hair. “You’re okay—you and the baby—”

Your son threw himself into the hug, and Mark wrapped him up, too, holding the both of you like you were made of light and glass and everything he never thought he’d hold again.

“I tried to protect her,” your son mumbled, voice small.

“I know you did,” Mark said, holding the back of his head. “You did so good, buddy. I’m so proud of you.”

“I thought they were gonna kill her…”

“They didn’t,” Mark said, voice darkening. “Because they didn’t get the chance.”

Your hand found his jaw, guiding his eyes back to yours. “They’re still out there, Mark.”

“I know.” His voice dropped, hard and heavy. “And I’ll stop them.”

You nodded, forehead to his. “Then we’ll stop them together.”

Cecil cleared his throat. “Let’s let the pregnant woman breathe before we make battle plans.”

Mark held you tighter, kissing your temple. “I promise I won’t let them touch either of you.”

#mark grayson x reader #x reader #reader insert

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 days ago

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A PLEASANT INCONVENIENCE.

bob reyonds x implied fem!reader

wc. 827 synopsis. your cat likes to run out of your apartment when you return home. today she makes it further than usual but is luckily stopped by a stranger. // had a teeny tiny, small and shit idea so wanted to write it. he's not living in the compound in this and idk the logistics. its fanfic, it doesn't have to canonically make sense

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Fairly often you’d find yourself chasing after your escapee, your cat always seeming to dart out of your apartment at the most inconvenient times.

Like now.

You’re standing outside your apartment, a collection of grocery bags and packages and cat food boxes by your feet as you jam your keys into the door — opening it slowly so as not to hit your cat in the face. Past experiences teaching you that was her favourite spot to sit; to sit and wait so that she could squeeze past and dart out the door.

Though today, you don’t see her face between the gap like you often do, and you mistakenly believe she’s given up trying. So with that thought in mind, you open your door fully to take your bags inside, kicking in your packages to speeden the process. But you’re far too slow.

She speeds out of your apartment, darting down the corridor like she’s planned the escape route for some time — skillfully outrunning you. Up ahead you hear the elevator ding open and your heart drops, worry setting in that she’s about to be gone forever.

You round the corner and see a man holding her, his cup and prescription bag dropped to the floor, strawberry milkshake spilling onto the worn carpet.

“Oh my gosh,” you pant, hand holding your heart as you walk closer. “Thank you for catching her,” your arms extend towards your cat, silently asking to take her back.

He smiles briefly, eyes diverting away tentatively. “It’s not a problem,” the stranger chuckles in a friendly manner and passes your cat to you — stroking over her back as if he couldn’t resist one last touch. “What’s her name?”

“Shelly,” you smile, giving her a quick cuddle.

“Shelly— tortoiseshell— tortoise,” he grins lazily. “That’s clever.”

Your smile widens as you nod. “You know your cats.”

“Yeah, well,” he chuckles softly as he bends, picking up his things from the floor. “I get cats, they get me.”

It’s always a good sign when men like cats.

You look down to the floor, noticing the small patch of soft pink on the floor. “I’m really sorry about your drink, can I pay you back?”

“Oh,” he looks down at the leak and back up to you. “No, no. Don't worry about it. It’s nearly finished anyway.”

“Okay,” you smile and nod a singular time. “I left my door open, so I should really get back. Thank you again for catching her.”

He stands awkwardly in place, his body language confusing. It looked like he was eager to get away yet still somehow stick around so you can continue chatting.

And you felt that way also. He was nice to talk to. Though you’d just have to hope you’d bump into him again soon, you weren’t so keen on keeping your apartment door open for the whole of New York.

“Anytime,” he mirrors your prior response, an expression quite similar to your own. “I’m Bob.”

You return by sharing your name, being met with yet another smile. “Do you live on this floor…or?” you ask, subtly happening upon the reason for his visit.

“I uh, yeah I do,” he points up ahead, gesturing to the way you just came. “Just round that corner, actually.”

“Oh?” you hum, head cocking at him.

You slowly turn on your heel, silently pivoting as if you wanted to continue chatting on the move. He follows suit, leisure footsteps to match yours — both walking slower than usual like you were trying to elongate the conversation.

“I haven't seen you around before,” you state and meet his eyes briefly, each of you only lasting a second before you both have to turn away.

“Well,” Bob chuckles. “I usually just stick to my apartment,” he looks down at his feet and then up to you, looking at the side of your face.

You feel the weight of his eyes on you and you twist to meet his gaze, but it falls again, diverting away. And so you smile downwards, looking bashfully at your cat in hand.

“Do you not like the city?” you ask, eager to keep the conversation rolling.

“I like it,” he nods, eyes casting down as he reaches into his pocket for his keys. “Just enjoy the quiet sometimes.”

You found yourself wishing for your apartment to be on another floor. To be able to chat with Bob a little more, but you reach your apartment, and it seems he does too.

You step towards your door and turn to look at him again, finally meeting one's eyes.

“See you around?” he gingerly questions, hesitant tone making him sound insecure in the belief that you’d meet again.

“I’d love that.”

Bob nods, a small, earnest smile forming as he sticks his keys into the door beside yours, his apartment proving to be far closer than you anticipated. Never did you think such a pleasant encounter could come from such an inconvenience.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

#bob reynolds #bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds fanfic #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #bob thunderbolts #robert reynolds #robert reynolds fluff #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds fanfic #sentry #sentry x reader #thunderbolts*#thunderbolts #thunderbolts bob

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postredevainilla · 2 days ago

Note

omg..more dilf!satoru gojo x collegestudent!freader please??

thank GOD someones on board with me on this 🙏

was thinking about dilf!satoru making you move in with him and yuuji, definitely just bc his son needs extra attention and totallyyy not because its all part of his plan to make you into a barely-20-something-year-old housewife.

cw: dubcon undertones, age/power imbalance, coercion, emotional manipulation, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, heavy degradation, possessiveness, choking, parental substitution, implied loss of autonomy, reader is 20 and is called "kid", satoru is a gross dirtbag in his mid-thirties PLS read at your own discretion

after noticing how often you’re already at his house and how close you’ve grown to yuuji, satoru decides to make his move. he approaches you with a calculated offer: move in full-time as yuuji’s live-in caregiver. he frames it as practical—more hours, free room and board, and extra pay to help you finish school (yeah right). you hesitate at first, but the offer makes too much sense to ignore. the stability, the convenience, and the growing emotional connection to the household all wear you down. eventually, you agrees. satoru is smugly satisfied—this was his plan from the start. he’s one step closer to keeping you exactly where he wants you, and you continue to fail to see it.

the arrangement is fine until one morning, over breakfast, yuuji looks up at you with sleepy eyes and calls you mommy. you laugh it off, but satoru doesn’t. his smile sharpens as he sips his coffee, watching you like he’s already claimed you.

later, while yuuji’s occupied with cartoons, you’re in the kitchen rinsing dishes, trying not to overthink it. but then satoru is there again, close—too close. he leans against the counter, his voice low and deliberate.

"he's right, you know," he says, sipping his coffee nonchalantly. "you are his mother now. in every way that counts."

his eyes rake over you, a possessive gleam in their icy blue depths. you feel a shiver run down your spine, a mix of fear and dark anticipation.

his hands grip your hips, pulling you back against his hard body. you can feel his erection pressing into your ass, already thick and ready.

"i own you now," he murmurs through a sadistic grin, his lips brushing your ear. "this body, this cunt, this womb...all mine to use as i please."

his hands move to your stomach, rubbing circles over the flat expanse. "gonna breed you over and over, kid," he groans, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. "fill this belly with my child until you're big and round with it."

you whimper at his words, a twisted mix of fear and desire. the thought of carrying his baby, of being bred like some animal, it should repulse you. but instead, it only makes your pussy clench with need.

satoru seems to sense your submission, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in harsh circles. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand.

"beg for it," he demands, his voice rough with lust. "beg me to breed you, to pump you full of cum until it's dripping down your thighs."

his other hand moves to your breast, groping the soft flesh through your shirt. he pinches your nipple hard, sending jolts of painful pleasure straight to your core.

"please, satoru," you moan, too far gone to care about the degradation. "please breed me, fill me with your baby. i.. i need it."

he chuckles darkly, pleased with your submission. "good girl," he praises, ripping your pants down in one brutal tug. "gonna give you what you need."

with one hard thrust, he's inside you, stretching you open around his thick shaft. you cry out at the sudden intrusion, your nails digging into the countertop.

"fuck, you're still so tight," he groans, pulling out and slamming back in. "gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else."

he sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with animalistic fervor. the kitchen fills with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"take it, kid," satoru snarls, one hand fisting in your hair. "take my cock like a good little breeding bitch."

his other hand moves to your stomach, rubbing circles over where his child will one day grow. the thought makes you clench around him, and he groans in approval.

"that's it, milk my cock," he pants, his hips snapping faster. "gonna fill this belly with my seed."

you can feel him growing thicker inside you, his balls tightening as he nears his peak. the knowledge that he's going to cum, going to breed you right here in the kitchen, sends you over the edge.

"oh god, satoru!" you moan out, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. your pussy spasms around him, trying to milk him for every drop.

with a final brutal thrust, he buries himself deep and comes with a loud groan. his hot seed floods your womb, filling you up just like he promised.

he stays inside you as he catches his breath, his softening cock pulsing with the last of his release. when he finally pulls out, his cum immediately starts to leak out of your abused hole.

"look at that," he chuckles darkly, swiping some of his seed and pushing it back inside you. "can't let a drop go to waste."

he spins you around, cupping your face in his hands. his eyes bore into yours, filled with dark possession. he smiles.

"you're mine now, kid," he repeats, sealing his words with a rough kiss. "my little breeding toy. and i'm going to use you every day until my baby is growing in your belly."

#✎ᝰ.muñeca's scribbles #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #dilf!gojo #dilf!satoru #gojo x reader smut #gojo x reader series #gojo drabbles #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #dark content

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daydreamgoddess14 · 3 days ago

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The Reading Rooms

Time for the weekly round-up! The response to this last week was INCREDIBLE! I hope the writers listed got some amazing comments and plenty of love because they deserve it!

Always remember to heed the warnings posted by the individual authors. What I'm happy to read may not be what you're happy to read, so I take no responsibility if you find something you're not into.

And finally, Tumblr is a community. Reblog, gush like you've never gushed before - I promise you, the authors below will love it, and love you for it! We write because we love to, but we share our work because we love the community of it. If you read something you like, let the world know! 💕

The List

This week was a busy one! I've been trying to get the next chapter of For Your Consideration finished, and I also posted the first part of a new miniseries - Breakfast.

On reading, I actually read some non-Bucky related stuff this week (shocker!).

Roy Kent / Joaquin Torres / Bob Floyd

This absolute gem Blood, Mud and Everything In Between by @roseandxanderfics featuring Roy Kent and an F!Rugby Player.

Come A Little Closer by @yourauthorjen featuring Joaquin Torres and F!Reader

The magnificent @marvelwitchergilmore killed it with two Joaquin fics I read this week: Where it Hurts and One Night

Sweetness by @cowboybeepboop featuring Bob Floyd x F!Reader (so, so cute, I am becoming a Lewis Pullman girlie)

This cute friends to lovers with Bob x F!Reader by @withahappyrefrain AND also The 5 Times You Flirted with Bob (I LOVE the TGM gang in this one 🥰)

And then, of course, there was SO MUCH BUCKY this week. So much.

Busy Woman by @wbellab (which also has part 2 linked, so be sure to read both!) (F!Reader)

Sneaking Around AND admitting feelings for Bucky by @fanficgirl429 (F!Reader)

Guys.... I have a thing for the suit. I read two fics about the suit. in the suit?! by @delicatebarness and the new uniform by @buckysouvenir (F!Reader, both insanely hot. It's the suit, it's killing me.)

Y'all - have you read declassified by @dreamwritesimagines?? You need to. If Congressman!Bucky gets your vote (yes, yes please) then this is for you because it's PERFECT. Off you pop, go read it now. Three parts so far and I am ITCHING for more. (F!Reader)

We're all into our Tower fics again (🤘2012!) so Interim Measures by @cheekybarnes should be on your list! (F!Reader)

When @mandoalorian starts the notes with "eventual smut and there will be a lot of it" ... well, sign me up. It's the start of if this is war, i surrender (F!Reader)

@sunday-bug has got a glorious Stucky x F!Reader fic Their Little Spitfire

@lessersole has a really great Congressman!Bucky fic which features Matt Murdock (yaay!) Bridging Boroughs (F!Reader)

Everything's Just Perfect by @ama3003 - soooo good, I'm a sucker for an exes fic! (F!Reader)

If we're calling him Sergeant, I'm here for it pals. Hey, Sergeant by @marvelwitchergilmore is sooo good!

I literally read this because I loved that @little-miss-dilf-lover wrote the words "chub on" and I couldn't stop giggling. Nevertheless, Morning Wood was phewww so good!

GIRL DAD BUCKY?! @flowersforbucky, my love, mine all mine was gorgeous 😍

@daxisyzz gave us Light After the Shadows and fluffy, lovely Bucky.

You might recall my excitement about there only being ONE BED!! in this @fanfictiongirlie fic Perfect - which also has a part 2 linked!

Finally, we all need to show Skittle some love over at @mrsbuckybarnes1917 because she finished Plus-One Problems this week - 106k words!! An absolutely bonkers achievement 🙌

I think that was it for this week 😅 I mean, there's probably more. My notes app and my google doc reading lists are not it - I can't keep up! And trying to save stuff in my 'likes' doesn't work either. Also, I wrote this on my laptop this week not my phone. Much less stressful 😂

Happy reading, gang. Enjoy this bloody gorgeous gif I just found. I'll be rewatching it for the foreseeable.

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larkwinged · 2 days ago

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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒 𝐅. 、𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

PROFILE. a self-righteous knight who is too willing to throw their life away, and too eager to charge into battle. underneath their stubborn exterior, they are riddled with the pressure of upholding a family title that has long been lost to time.

FULL NAME. artemis elise fröhlich

PRONOUNS. they / them

GENDER. fem-presenting non-binary

AGE. early twenties

HEIGHT. 5”1

BIRTHDAY. november 12th

OCCUPATION. knight

AFFILIATION. knights of favonius

ELEMENT. pyro

CONSTELLATION. columba bellicosi

WEAPON TYPE. sword — “herald of the dawn”

Now stripped of its original purpose as a vessel to store all the memories of an ancient god king, this sword has been passed down in the Fröhlich family since the dawn of time.

Once wielded by the god of memories herself, this sword was blessed by the winds and presented as a gift to her youngest child upon the morn of their knighting ceremony.

“You, who represent the grace and bravery of humanity,” said the Queen, “take this and go. Become a pillar of hope to those wallowing in the darkness, and guide the lost onto a chivalrous path. You, the Dovewing Knight.”

And so, the first Dovewing Knight set out, protecting the people of Cairnfelle and standing tall as a beacon of hope, just as they were requested.

At the edge of the world, when the brilliance of Cairnfelle collapsed and the mountains crumbled, the sword found its way tumbling back into the hands of its previous owner to defend her honor, and upkeep her legacy until the final trumpet sang … announcing her defeat.

With no definite home, the sword lay in the ruins of its kin, preserved well by the Anemo Archon and his will — until the day it found its way into the waiting hands of the inheritor of an ancient title.

• demo music concepts. one two three

• ENG voice claim : keath òsk as cole seymour from yaelokre’s “meadowlark” project

• JP voice claim : marina inoue as armin arlert from attack on titan

CHARACTER STORY 1: eastward of eden

It is true that Artemis has long held resentment towards their older sister and past caretaker, Lilith. As a child, Artemis was refused of many things — including choosing their own clothes, partaking in certain activities, and having their own privacy. There wasn’t much they were allowed to do, and even the hobbies they enjoyed ended up ruined by Lilith’s excitement and pushy nature.

To this day, Lilith is unaware of the mental anguish she caused her siblings over the course of their entire childhood. However, in her own eyes, she has done no such thing, and has succeeded at being a “mother.”

Many citizens have told her, “My, you exercise much control over them,” and yet, she has failed to see the error in her ways. It is not entirely her fault, as she was forced into the role of a mother when she wasn’t ready for such a task. Even though she failed in many aspects of her parenting skills, there was one thing she has always truly succeeded at: caring deeply for her family.

However, no amount of love could undo the years of fighting and hurtful words thrown around between the siblings.

CHARACTER STORY 2: legacy

Long ago, in the days of yore, the archaic land of Mondstadt had been ruled by a monarch older than Decarabian. Her rule was rumored to last longer than his, and her birth is now nothing but scattered fragments along the wind.

When the Queen of the North Wind descended and claimed Mondstadt as her home, a mighty kingdom formed under her feet. Small huts grew to larger, firmer homes, and gargantuan cathedrals made of marble were erected in her honor. Trumpets blew, the wind howled, snow fell, and mountains as high as the heavens towered above humanity.

In later years, the prospering kingdom of Cairnfelle was officially born. Serving as a haven for travelers and poets alike, the kingdom sang with energy as it thrived under Queen Catalina’s guiding hand. The god of memories was exceptionally gentle, with a kind and compassionate heart that moved even the most stoic-faced men to tears. Her words were wise, her complexion glowing, and her promises true.

Cairnfelle, as much as it prospered, gained an enemy from a distant land. With no choice but to face the beast she prodded, the Queen set out to befriend the raging phoenix that had enough of her games. Ever the charming soul, the Queen did not have to do much to make the phoenix bow to her every whim, and before the citizens of Cairnfelle had the chance to acclimate to the visitor, the two were to be wed.

There is not much to say for the years in between the joining of two god kings and the fall of Cairnfelle, but this: Four inexplicably brave and virtuous souls were born from the two gods — four demigod knights who carved the way for the future of Mondstadt: The Four Archangels.

The Blair Family — the origin of the Fröhlichs, is no longer the raging flame of life it had once been, but a snuffed out ember of its former glory.

Only in passing on the titles of the Four Archangel Knights can the present day Fröhlich family hold tight to what was once a name feared and adored by all.

CHARACTER STORY 3: composition

Many questions have arisen over the years; all pertaining to a certain facet of Artemis’ composition.

“Is it a curse?” They’ve inquired, only to wind up receiving a simple, “I’m not even sure myself!”

However, that it is a small white lie they’ve grown to tell. In fact, Artemis is very much aware of the reason why they consistently find themselves on the brink of death and luckily make it out alive. It is because of the unique composition their ancestor, Lowen, was made of: pure and unbridled wrath.

The story goes as such: In the days of yore, when gods and monsters still yet walked the earth, a beast born of flame and rage took flight. They seared their enemies and allies alike, and roused the hearts of warriors all across Natlan. They utterly refused to lay their past life to rest. In doing so, they made a promise to their newfound family. The wrath that lived inside them was nothing but a blessing, and deserved to be passed on through their children, and future generations. And so, the endless wrath that boiled in their veins was passed on — consuming the lives of their children, and overtaking the brilliant flames that became their descendants.

To be a god’s descendant has always been an honor in the Fröhlich family line… Yet, Artemis — like the direct children of the god of wrath — see it as naught but a curse; For what blessing could bring about destruction and the devastation of any living being in one’s wake.

VISION STORY:

The blistering pyro vision attached to Artemis’ belt was said to be a gift from the gods, and maybe even a gift from the long gone god of wrath themselves.

What else are visions besides gifts from the gods? A tool to wield, and yet another curse Artemis must deal with.

At the young age of eleven, Artemis was sent out on their first escorting mission. It was their first mission given to them by Grand Master Varka, who was elated to test their strength and endurance. Not many were willing to accept an escort from a child — as was the case with the Fontainian aristocrat Artemis was talking their ear off to. However, the man said nothing, as the child’s directional skills were second to none. It was only when they hit a bump in the road that the man questioned Artemis’ capabilities as a knight.

“I should’ve known better than to trust a child!” He yelled, waving his fist in the air as he pushed them aside and ran off ahead by himself in the rain, leaving the young Artemis to fend for themselves amidst a hoard of abyssal monsters.

Although panic was steadily rising throughout their body, they forced themself forward — slashing at every monster with a shaky grip on their sword. The rain poured, sagging their clothes, and dragging their arms down to the dirt. The grip on their sword slipped, as did their footing, and they tumbled to the hard ground with a rough clash.

Their shoulder-piece scratched the bridge of their nose on the way down, and a thick line of blood began to spill from the open wound. A rifthound drew closer, baring its teeth and snapping its jaw as its claws outstretched, striking Artemis across the head. A clap of thunder sounded, and amidst the ringing in their ears, Artemis felt the weight of ten large wooden planks collapse on their back.

Even so, they shakily grabbed their sword, their nails digging into the wet earth, and began to stand. Their blood boiled as a wrath they were only warned about once crept up to the surface, prickling along their skin until it caved inwards, tugging at their ribcage and burning against their racing heart.

In a flash of white and gold, the hoard of rifthounds lay motionless on the grass, their bodies turning to dust as Artemis panted heavily. The wrath inside their veins bubbled, and their vision turned red. It was all consuming. It was destructive, and it was total annihilation. They struck down every monster seeping from an abyssal pylon until finally, they tore the pylon in half with nothing but their blade and their bare hands.

The rain continued to fall as they dropped their sword and collapsed to the ground in a heap of sore limbs and bloodied grass. Their eyes fell close for a moment — at least, what felt like a moment — and when they opened, a shining vision sat amongst the pool of blood left behind by their foes.

Indeed. The god of wrath, whose curse ran rampant in their veins, rewarded them with yet another “gift.”

𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀

• hobbies: When they are home in Dornman Port enjoying their days off, they like to wind down by practicing the art of crochet. Not only is it soothing to sit by a windowsill while the afternoon breeze filters into their bedroom, it is also a hobby their late mother held dear. By partaking in this hobby, they feel closer to their mother, and can preserve her memory longer. Another hobby is sports. Artemis can often be found playing with the kids in the port during vacations.

• beliefs: The Fröhlich family have always dedicated their lives to the protection of Mondstadt, and hold a firm worship to a god king who has long been dead. Although they have accepted Barbatos as their new savior, they still hold their original god close to their hearts. Artemis has naturally followed this belief and considers their worship of the god of memories their religion. During rough times, they find solace in a temple far north and meditate there for as long as they deem necessary. Once a month, they offer up a few of their most important memories— a ritual that has been passed down in the Fröhlich family for over 3000 years.

(This act of offering up memories is akin to the way some worshippers will offer animal sacrifices to the god they serve.)

• about — fate: Artemis is a firm believer that fate will guide the worthy and ultimately lead everyone onto the path they are destined to walk. However, they do not include the meddling of gods and higher beings into this equation. They believe that fate is its own entity and not dictated by the Archons nor Celestia. It acts of its own accord, and the gods are mere victims of fate, as well. Not even Celestia will be spared.

• about — death: Artemis believes that death is a stepping stone to a greater afterlife. Akin to their many family members, they believe that life is temporary, and death is eternal. When one dies, they are not truly dead; for they are shedding their mortal shell and accepting their true form, which is the soul. The soul will live on forever in the afterlife, while the physical body is nothing more than a temporary shell to house said soul. With this belief, the Fröhlich family does not fear death, but welcomes it with open arms— greeting it like an old friend.

#⟢ ── artemis f. .ᐟ #art by dearest koue 💋#TIS FINALLY FINISHED !!!!! holy hell. i have #<- MUCH to say.#first off let me start by apologizing for the small ass text 😔 big text stressed me out sometimes and often looks incredibly wonky/janky #at least to me it does #and it bothers me a hell of a lot #OKAY!!! ON TO MY DARLING ARTEMIS NOW :3 #this took me. so so so long to do man. i unfortunately dont have a reference pic for them yet but i hope to have one in ->#the future !!!! some artists ive considered commissioning dont draw armor so 💔💔 i have to find one that DOES #bc artemis’ standard fit/fit they’d wear if they were playable would include armor #u guys have only seen snippets of their casual/home wear so far #second — artemis’ weapon !!! i’ve known since their creation that they would wield a sword ! ik it’s basic af but it’s the only weapon that #<- fits them. if i had to choose a diff weapon for any reason then they’d use a bow. it’s already kinda their secondary weapon anyw since -#they were trained and r skilled at archery. that’s only in recent times though bc venti was the one who taught them archery !#‘herald of the dawn’ is a name i came up with on a whim. and imo it def suits as the name of their sword !!!#also artemis shares a birthday with me 🫣#‘columba bellicosi’ means warrior dove - or smth of the like. yuomi helped with the constellation name so shoutout to my goat 🤍#it’s also kinda cool bc catalina’s constellation is ‘columba mortis’ or - ‘dove of death’#ofc i had to include lowen into their character stories LOL #lowen is the reason artemis is rumored to be a demigod #also … THE BLAIR FAMILY MENTIONED EVERYONE CHEERED !!!!!#still not sure whether or not i like the vision story and i can always change it … i had a rlly hard time with it. i knew how i wanted them #<- to get their vision but i didnt know how to go about it. i think it turned out alright #me and artemis share the same views on death ! cool fact for u guys hehe :3 #one last thing !!! the voice claims were a bit hard to choose #i had NO idea where to start but then yaelokre began releasing more content of their character cole ->#and i KNEW i wanted cole’s voice to be artemis’ voice claim. it suits them perfectly #the jp voice claim was also a struggle bc i didnt know where to start 😭 but then i remembered my goat marina inoue and her ->#outstanding performance as armin and knew that had to be artemis’ jp voice 🙂‍↕️

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