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lovebugism · 2 years ago

Note

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever.

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems.

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore.

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you.

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough. You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against.

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles).

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into.

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary.

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you.

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her.

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips.

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means.

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you.

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds.

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about.

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right.

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week.

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now.

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie.

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you.

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call.

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.”

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting.

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer.

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way.

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye.

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm.

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing.

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college.

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs.

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be.

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching.

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully.

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease.

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago.

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need.

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret.

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure.

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?”

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading — and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly.

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious.

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for.

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry.

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you.

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him.

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him.

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so.

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes.

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you.

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it.

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all.

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?”

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats.

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling.

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day.

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down.

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone.

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him.

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold.

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler.

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock.

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.”

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time. “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are.

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were.

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?”

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so.

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.”

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost.

But it’s happened before.

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight.

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise.

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak.

You want him.

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #virgin!eddie munson x reader #virgin!eddie munson

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angstyhikka · 1 year ago

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Lev in touch! Hikka’s out, I possessed her))) she’s eating chips with her brain turned off while I’m explaining the lore to you >:D

So.*loud long surp*. in Anarchists there is a LUZ. she ended up on the Islands after falling into a lake, which turned out to be a portal to the world of demons. the King and Jester quickly picked up her there. she seemed fun to them. Philip mistook her for a kitten, and she, in fact, now walks under this nickname. she lives in their castle above titan’s head. and when she wants to get out of there, she asks Collie (specifically Collie because if Phil lets her down, firstly, it will be unsafe, and secondly, Luz cannot be picked up, she has daddy issues). sometimes they forget to feed her, but she copes with it herself. fortunately, anarchists have a fridge and, in principle, all the best things from the human realm. they even have a TV on which they watch anime. once they organized a “One Piece Month”))) then they flew around the islands, found more or less suitable candidates for the roles of characters, turned them into these characters and forced them to act out the roles (precisely they forced them, because making them obedient puppets was boring, not Interesting, Phil said)

Luz watched these idiots having fun for a while and was like, “Well, I see that they have no intention of harming people. They’re just idiots who don’t understand what they’re doing.” at least she hopes so. at some point Luz thought, “I can fix them.” and she had a moralizing conversation with the boys, trying to somehow reach out to them. but, as you understand, moralizing conversations affect people only when they are rubbed into them by someone with authority and force. and Luz has neither one nor the other, she's just a kitten.

Luz realized that she didn’t belong here, that her attempts to affect on K ‘n J were pointless, and decided to go her own way. She said goodbye to the boys. they got upset and after she left they started fighting because of what had happened, saying, “It’s your fault that Kitten left us!”. word for word, Philip went to let off steam, and Collie stayed at home. aaaaaand then the plot of the comic that we’re working on now happened. We're already half done! heading towards the 30 page mark......

Hikka in touch! finished eating my chips and is ready to briefly explain the rest of the pictures while you are already stuffed Lore about Luz phpphphphp

The second picture is what the pocket found just after getting out of the lakes. K ‘n J were racing through the forest on “beepbeepkas” (they maneuvered right through the air between the trees), but belatedly they stopped to check out what kind of person that was, standing there sticking it in, not understanding anything. Collie's first line was "you look interesting" and then Phillip were like "we're taking her with us"

Third picture: we will have Hollow Mind. Not saying any more context yet because there are spoilers :))

Fourth: Phill can do gypsy tricks, which are valued among them precisely because without magic they rely on sleight of hand and cunning. Luz was not impressed

Well, the last one is an unused frame for a comic that we turned into a meme. Don't thank us :3

#the owl house #toh anarchist au #phillip wittebane #belos #emperor belos #luz noceda #hunter #hunter clawthorne #toh collector #jester collector #phill the demon king

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chlobliviate · 1 month ago

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Wolfstar Microfic - Map

Words: 982

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

James walked into the dorm to find Sirius poring over the map, frowning. He stood in the doorway for a while before clearing his throat.

Sirius jumped, “Fuck! Prongs!”

“Hello to you too.” James sat on the floor next to him. “What are you doing?”

“Just looking at the map,” Sirius mumbled. “I think it’s broken.”

“It absolutely isn’t!” James scoffed. “Why would you even think that?”

“Moony’s disappeared,” Sirius said reluctantly. He didn’t particularly want to explain to James that he’d been watching the map since he saw Remus slip out of the common room with Gideon Prewett, but he supposed he had no choice. “He was in this corridor.” Sirius pointed to an empty spot of map. “Then he vanished.”

“Maybe he found the Room of Requirement.” James laughed. They’d been looking for it for over a year, to no avail. “Decided to keep it all for himself.”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “You think he’d do that?”

“Was he alone?” James asked, knowingly. Sirius’ silence spoke for itself. “Who?”

“Gideon.” He groaned, “Again.”

“Again?” James stared at him. “Do you just sit here and stalk us on the map when we’re gone?”

“If I see Moons sneaking out with someone, I… keep an eye on them.” Sirius didn’t like the way James was looking at him. “I know it’s not healthy.”

“So why do it?”

“Penance.” He said, “For the Snape thing. It could have been me sneaking off with Moony, and it’s my own fault that it’s not.”

James leaned back slightly, taking in Sirius’ slumped shoulders and sad eyes. “Well, firstly, you’re banned from the map.” He cut Sirius’ whine off. “I’m not letting you sit here and torture yourself, Padfoot. You can feel guilty in the common room if you must, but this isn’t healthy, you’re right.”

“I don’t want to be around people right now,” Sirius said quietly. “Everyone’s happy and I feel like I either have to fake it or I worry people.”

James nodded, “Want to play exploding snap up here?”

“You don’t have to do that.” Sirius’ frown eased slightly, “Surely you want to be with Evans rather than up here.”

“I can bother Evans any time.” James shrugged. “When my brother is sad, that’s my first priority.”

Sirius turned his head away but James could see how hard his teeth were cutting into his lower lip to stop it trembling and the breath he was holding so it wouldn’t come out as a sob. He let Sirius have a moment and grabbed the cards from his trunk. When he turned back to Sirius, he was alarmed to see him curled in on himself, body heaving with silent sobs. He pulled Sirius to his feet and wrapped his arms around him, bearing his full weight as he felt Sirius’ knees give way.

He knew that Sirius had been haunted by his actions from last term. Remus had spent a week and a few odd days with them over the summer and they’d reached a place where he’d forgiven Sirius, but things were nowhere near being back to how they had been. James had his doubts as to whether they ever would be. He still flinched away when Sirius touched him, and James could tell that Sirius was doing his best to retrain his muscle memory to not reach for Remus the way he always had. It was hard to watch.

“Deep breaths, Pads,” James said quietly. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Sirius tried this for a while, often interrupted by his chest lurching or fresh tears. He let James sit them down on the edge of his bed and leant his head against James’ damp shoulder as he tried desperately to calm down.

“I fucked ev-everything up.” Sirius hiccupped, “I- I don’t blame him at all for keeping me at arm’s length. I just hate it, and there’s no- no-one else to blame but myself and every time I thi- think I’m doing better it sneaks u- up on me and I end up like this.”

“I wish there was something I could say that would help,” James said honestly.

“I know.” Sirius started shaking again. “Thanks. I think I just want to sleep.”

“I’m taking the map with me,” James said, laughing softly. “Have a vial of Dreamless Sleep.”

“Yeah, alright.” Sirius lifted his head from James’ shoulder. “Thanks, Prongs.”

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Remus appeared in the common room about an hour later and James pulled him to one side immediately. “Have you found the Room of Requirement?”

Remus sighed, “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” James looked so disappointed in him, it was like seeing his own face reflected back at him.

“I’ve been using it for tutoring,” Remus mumbled. “Didn’t want to have to share it with Sirius taking his flavour of the week there.”

“Tutoring?” James looked like his head was going to explode, “Tutoring, Remus?”

“Yeah, Gid’s wanted to work on his patronus charm and the room just… anticipates what you need. It’s incredible magic.” Remus smiled, “I’m sorry for not telling you.”

“I need a lie down.” James dragged his hand down his face. “Tutoring?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Remus frowned. “You think we were sneaking off to hook up? There’s a very pretty Ravenclaw who’d have something to say about that.” His eyes narrowed, “How did you know I found it anyway?”

“The map.” James shrugged.

“Do you just sit and stalk us on the map when we’re gone? Jesus, Prongs.”

“Yep. That’s what I do. I’m a pervert, sorry.” He grinned at Remus until Remus’ frown broke. “Tutoring!” He laughed.

“If I end up having to schedule my tutoring around Sirius’ hookups, I’m going to be furious.” He chuckled.

James didn’t have the heart to tell him that eventually he probably would have to do that, but not in the way he anticipated.

#wolfstar #ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #marauders #remus loves sirius #wolfstar microfic #the prank

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ghostsarepeopletoo-2 · 1 month ago

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My Live DRDT episode 16 reaction

HERE WE GO CHATT

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

“Are we all ready to vote?” It’s so Aceover

how much you wanna bet David voted for Teruko

“Congratulations!” ITS ACEOVER 😭

“I’m proud of us-!” Can he stfu already

“What do you have to say in your defense?” Can SHE stfu already I’m sorry Hu fans but at this point she makes me want to punch the wall

“I killed her. And if you never forgive me for that, then there’s nothing I can say.” THE NICO PARALLELS?!?!! THE FOILS OF ALL TIME

“This… This all could have been prevented, couldn’t it?” YES THANK YOU EDEN

of course Eden would be the one to point that out first…

“It’s just… misfortune.” Yeah you would know a thing or two about that wouldn’t you

I actually see this line as Teruko refusing to accept either blame or the idea that she could turn out like Ace

“So we can’t possibly blame ourselves…” Hu. HU.

This time I KNOW she’s refusing to accept blame. It’s become a theme in her character, that she refuses to take criticism or herself or those she cares about. It’s a very interesting character trait and I really love her as a character but oh my GOD does she make me mad-

I guess I should specify that while it’s technically everyone’s fault that Ace committed the murder, it’s Ace’s fault most of all for making himself so unapproachable in the first place. I’m not gonna ignore that just because he’s my fav, I’m not gonna do the same thing I literally just criticized Hu for. However, it was Nico’s botched murder attempt that led to Ace finalizing his murder plan, and Hu’s blind defense of Nico didn’t help matters. Out of everyone she might be one of the people who made him want to kill the most.

“… He was happier, and he trusted people more.” “Like adding stones one a pane of glass… until eventually, the glass cracks.” Okay nvm you guys really did ruin him didn’t you

“Nico’s attempted murder isn’t a cause, it’s just a symptom…” Maybe I was wrong okay I’m sorry Hu

“Whatever. Whatever!” Uh oh

“Did you all get the Veronika virus or what?” “You all are wrong, so shut up!” I was gonna say, it’s pretty rude to talk about him like he’s not there 😭

“I didn’t want to die. That’s all.” My boy… my boy you are cooked

“Don’t think that I forgot about your secret, you damn murderer!” Man I was so sad about everything else I almost forgot about Acevi. Almost.

“It’s really funny in hindsight how you acted all betrayed when you found out Levi was a murderer, as if you were unaware that you yourself had killed someone.” I fucking hate him but fair.

I’m not gonna quote anything else David says unless it’s important because I hate him with a burning passion

“But still, I-! I don’t care what it was! I don’t care if it made me a hypocrite!” Acevi is gonna kill me dead just fyi

“I just needed a reason to stay mad at you…!” This yaoi is so doomed I’m gonna kms/j

“I can’t understand you, no matter how hard I try.”

“I need you to do a favor for me right now. It might just save your life.” Huh???? Wha??? Teruko what’re you cooking

is she gonna ask Ace to dropkick Monotv omg

“The whole reason this killing game keeps going on is because we’re all forced to follow MonoTV’s rules.” HOLY SHIT SHE IS

I wanna see a cg of Ace vs. Monotv so bad ngl

“Yeah, more murder! Wait, what??” I love this stupid cat. Rip Monotv you will be missed

“I can’t…do it.” What is wrong with him/genuine concern

“I don’t wanna die. I can’t do that-” my brother in Christ you are cooked anyway. Go out in a blaze of glory

OH MY GOD A WHOLE ENTIRE FUCKING ANIMATION!?!?!! AND HE GOT MONOTV, ITS MONOVER

I FUCKING KNEW THAT WOULDN’T WORK THERE’S NO WAY- wait did that say XF-TURE?!?!?!!

XF-TURE IS BEHIND THIS, OR AT LEAST CREATED MONOTV

Help ain’t no way Ace’s about to get cooked by a default personality 😭

“Sorry, Ace.” Help 😭

“To run this killing game until the death of every participant.” WHAT

okay lore drops this episode: XF is behind, or at the very least heavily involved in, the game. The game is designed to run until every participant is dead, implying that the mastermind wants every participant dead- possibly including themself. If that’s true it puts major points for people such as Hu, David, or maybe Whit to be the mastermind as they have been shown to have suicidal ideation. (Whit not so much but I can assume)

“I will pass the punishment for breaking the rules to the one who made that decision.” ITS TEROVER. wait but she’s the ultimate lucky so she’s probably gonna survive

imagine it becomes a running “joke” that Teruko has a near death experience in every chapter lol

ITS TEROVER- does she not gaf 😭 maybe Teruko could be up there with our suicidal peeps

she really doesn’t gaf 😭

this is so wild she doesn’t care bc she’s lucky and her life sucks and-

“I was perfectly willing to get shot.” Was???

ITS LEVIOVER NOOOOOOOO

MY POSITIVE ASPD REP 😭

ACEVI BOTH DOWN IN ONE CHAPTER WE ARE SO COOKED

“LEVI!!” Oh so you do care. Okay. Okay. A single tear rolls down my cheek

oh yeah I forgot about Charles’s whole thing. Thanks for being a good bf Whit

“His injuries are not fatal.” PRAISE THE LORD HALLELUJAH

YOU CAN’T TAKE HIM TO THE INFIRMARY YOU HAVE TO WATCH ACE GET COOKED- wait YO IS THAT A SAD WHIT SPRITE??? Isn’t that one of the harbingers of the apocalypse or smthn

Ace is gonna die not knowing if Levi survived… oghgh

Ace speeding up his own death to save Levi 😭 I’m gonna 😭

“Stop saying you can’t do it, because you can!” Maybe with the power of belief, anything is possible

Ace is gonna die and Arturo’s gonna be like “yeah Levi’s dead” like immediately

ARTURO HAVING A MOMENT THATS NOT ABOUT HIM SUCKING HELL YEAH

not Ace calling him a coward 😭 stones in glass houses looking ass

here we go boys/gn… it’s Aceover

HES COOOKED

NOT A THANATOPHOBIA THEMED EXECUTION I QUIIIIT

the last ones gonna be death by horses just watch

DID HE DIE OF FEAR???? IM KILLING MYSELF

THERES NO FUCKING WAY THAT HORSES WEREN’T EVEN MENTIONED

Teruko what’s your deal

“I’m a hypocrite” chewing on her. Grrr grrr

“I have no choice…” there is no way drdt is out here trying to give depth to the MONOKUMA equivalent, of all things. I’m out

she blames herself… honey no…

the. the ending. I’m killing myself I quit I can’t-

ace has hand trauma too??? You know what sure at this point

you don’t get any final thoughts bc I’m tired. Have a nice day

#danganronpa despair time #monotv #ace markey #david chiem #teruko tawaki #hu jing #nico hakobyan #eden tobisa #veronika grebenshchikova #j moreno #levi fontana #acevi #charles cuevas #whit young #charwhit #(barely)#arturo giles #rose lacroix

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dilvuc · 11 months ago

Note

I recently found your work and I really enjoyed your snapped fic with Floyd! I was wondering if you would do something similar with Jade, with reader getting mad at him for his condescending and passive aggressive ness?

❝STORM❞

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst/fluff

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male

𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: storm

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: jade leech x bison beastman!m!reader(+ azul/floyd/ruggie)

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: because of his passive aggressive behavior, you snapped at him

here he goes again. everytime, he's only doing this for his own enjoyment. why is jade targeting you? why must he want to see discomfort in you? what the hell is his problem? you thought you got used to it, but it was starting to pissed you off. you never thought it would make you even more pissed off after you lost the spelldrive tournament against diasomnia. you were angry by your loss and needed time to relax your anger until jade showed up.

“Oh? You lost the Spelldrive Tournament against Diasomnia?” jade smirked, holding a towel out to you, “It was satisfying to watch you lose against them. Besides, your dorm will never beat Diasomnia if you're never at their level…However—”

you harshly slapped the towel out of jade’s hand, catching him by surprise. you stood up abruptly off the bench and glared at the male, “Can't you get off my fucking back?! What is it that you want from me?! Are you trying to anger me because I'm a buffalo?!”

jade gasped, a little taken back by your outburst, “No—”

“Shut up! I'M SICK OF YOU! I'M SICK OF ALL OF THIS! WHAT'S THE DEAL OF TRYING TO BRING DISCOMFORT TO OTHERS AND CAUSE THEM PROBLEM?! ARE YOU FUCKING BRAINDEAD?!” you snapped, stepping close to jade, who stumbled back a little. “Fuck off and go fuck yourself! I don't have time to deal with you anymore! Stay away from me!”

“I see…apologies for wasting your time…” jade apologized. you give him a scoff and storm off, leaving the teal haired male alone. after you left, jade pulled an envelope from his back pocket and stared at it for a bit. he clenched on the envelope before ripping it to shreds.

“...idiot…you're an idiot…” jade muttered to himself as his vision went blurry. the male rubbed his eyes, realizing that it was tears pouring from his eyes. “A…ah…I shouldn't. I mustn't…he doesn't need you. He never needs you…”

as the teal haired male left, ruggie moved out of his hiding place and picked up the shredding envelope. it's a shame that he had to put in pieces. luckily, torned up papers aren't too small, so it's easy to put them together.

“Hey! Jade! Open up!” floyd hollered out as he bangs on the bedroom door, but there was no response. “Huh? Why isn't he saying anything…? Oi! We'll be serving mushroom stew if you like!”

“...”

“Eh…? He's not responding? But he loves mushrooms.” the disorganized twin tilted his head. azul arrived at the scene, “What's going on? There are customers waiting.”

“I think there's something wrong with Jade. He locked himself in the room.” floyd pointed before crossing his arms, “Something must've happened.”

“...Kicked the door open.” azul ordered.

“Fine. You better not charge me for this.” the taller male huffed before kicking the door down. “Oi! Jade! What's going on—”

floyd paused mid-sentence when he noticed his brother cowering under the blanket, “Hey…what's with you…?”

“A-ah…Nothing.” jade responded from under the quilt. floyd marched over and grabbed the blanket, but his brother clutched onto the blanket to stop him from pulling it off. “I’m fine…! J-just sick!”

“Liar.” floyd scoffed before pulling the whole blanket off of jade. azul and floyd gasped when they noticed tears pouring from jade's eyes. “Huh? Are you crying?”

“N…no! J…just…”

“Oi. Stop lying already.” floyd furrowing his eyebrows at his brother's attempt of lying.

“Jade, did something happen?” azul asked. jade sniffled, wiping away his tears with his sleeves, “...S…sorry, it was my fault that this happened.”

“What happened?” the housewaren questioned.

“Fuck me…I never thought I will be raising my voice at him…” you grumbled, ruffling your hair back. you have a bad temper and you can't help yourself. you can be sensitive most of the time and you hate yourself for that. sure, jade pissed you off, but you don't hate it. why did you have to snap at him like that? basically you were devastated by your loss against diasomnia and he somehow ruined your mood.

“That was fucked up, you know?” you jumped when you heard ruggie at your door frame. the hyena beastman placed the paper on your desk, “This belongs to you.”

“What's this?” you asked.

“Just read it and you'll see.”

“And that's what happened. I didn't think he would storm at me. Maybe I went too far…” jade sniffled, tossing another ball of tissues on the floor.

“I've heard that buffalo get aggressive. I wouldn't be surprised that [Y] be so sensitive.” azul mumbled.

“Maybe I should apologize to him…?” the organized twin questioned. floyd huffed, “He made you cry, so he should apologize. I want to break his horns or rip the piercing from his nose.”

“N-no need. I can take care of this…” jade rubbed his red eyes. “I started it…”

“Vice-housewaren. There's someone who wishes to see you.” A Octavinelle student said.

“...?”

jade arrived at the lounge to meet up with this person. to his surprise, the person turned out to be you. “[Y]...? Ah. Pardon me. You might come here to yell at me…”

“No. I'm not here to yell at you…” you calmly deny. the teal haired male looks at you confused, “Is there something you need? I…I promise that I won't provoke you again. I didn't mean to—”

“Jade, it's ok. It's my fault for snapping at you. I didn't mind you teasing me and all, but you provoked me at the wrong time.” you spoke, clutching the paper in your hand. jade frowned while fiddling with his fingers, “Sorry…”

azul and floyd peek in the lounge and listen in on your conversation. you sighed, “Stop apologizing. I'm the one who should apologize.”

you bow 180° and apologized sincerely, “I'm sorry for snapping at you. I let my anger out on you after my dorm lost to Diasomnia again.”

“I know you didn't mean those words. Anger just took the best of me. Sorry…” you finished apologizing before holding up the letter to jade. “Is this yours?”

“Ah?” jade looks at the taped letter in your hand before slowly turning red. “S-sorry! That's nothing!”

before he could snatch it, you swipe it back from his reach, “So, you were planning to confess to me, huh?”

“I…! I-I wasn't going to! It's embarrassing…!” jade blushed with his hands over his face. you reread the love letter before turning your attention back on the flustered jade, “You've been teasing me because you have feelings for me, huh? You just haven't had the courage to tell me how you really feel.”

“...You already read it. Please forget it. It probably not worth it—”

“I love you, too, mushroom lover.” you confessed. “Even if you always pissed me off, I always enjoy your company. You still pissed me off either way.”

jade gawked at your harsh confession, but was glad that you accepted his feelings, “...O…oh, it was still silly of me to make a love letter to a hairy buffalo who has so much facial hair.”

“Oi. I don't have that much facial hair.” you glared. the teal haired male chuckled, “You're close to growing a beard.”

“I'm fine with a beard! I'm not an eel who's afraid of heights. I find it satisfying to see you scared.”

“Well, I wouldn't be so afraid of small, harmless cats. You climb up a tree to avoid it~”

“I wouldn't mind eating eels for dinner.”

“Same with buffalo~”

“Hm. Are they hating or dating? They're spitting insults at each other…” azul sweatdropped as you and jade argued. “Or it's a competition…?”

“Hehehehe~ As long as Ictiobus-kun didn't make Jade cry again then we're fine.” Floyd chuckled.

╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.

rules

twisted wonderland masterlist

#male reader #top male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland #jade leech #twst jade #octavinelle

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starkowswife · 11 months ago

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J.M / ALL MY FAULT

pairings: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

summary: Jj convinces you to go surfing with him during a storm, you end up hurt and he feels awful.

a/n: this is kinda shitty and not at all proofread so i’m sorry but i love the idea of this js wish i wrote it better.

warning: mentions of blood and bruises, let me know if there should be others.

“oh come on y/n stop being such a baby” Jj teased. there was a bad storm coming but he was still trying to convince me to go surfing with him. “i love you Jayj but we’re gonna die if we surf right now, this is meant to be a really bad storm, after the storms cleared up i’ll surf with you, yeah?” i tried reasoning. “oh come on pleaseeee” he begged. “fine if it’ll shut you up” i mumbled but i couldn’t stop myself from slightly smiling as i saw how happy he got.

once we got out to the water i had a bad feeling. “J the waves are huge” i pointed out, hoping he’d change his mind. “it’ll be fine love, calm down” he responded as he kissed my temple and put his arm around me. “come on let’s go catch this wave it looks like it’ll be a good one”.

after a while of surfing you were starting to enjoy yourself as the worry faded, but then just as you were trying to catch a wave, it was so bad it pushed you right over and you fell off your surfboard. “Y/N” i heard Jjs muffled voice shout. i started to panic. i was too scared to actually swim properly so i was flailing around and could get back to the surface. just as i got back up another wave came and knocked me over again. i hit my face on my surfboard really hard then fell underwater again. Jayj swam towards me and pulled me back up for air. “shit angel are you okay?” he said while wiping the blood away from my nose, caused by hitting it just before. i was shaking, crying and i couldn’t get the words out so i just shook my head. J held me tight and grabbed our boards and quickly headed back home while the waves were calm for a moment.

when we got back he sat me on the counter in the bathroom and started cleaning me up. “shh it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay” he said trying to comfort me, but he sounded like his voice cracked in the middle of it, it sounded like he was, crying? by now i had started to calm down and had regulated my breathing. “i know my face just hurts a bit, are you okay though? you sound like you’re about to cry” i sniffled. he’s been avoiding eye contact the whole time and now is avoiding my question. “Jay?” i question and put my hand on his chin to lift his face up. i see a stray tear fall. “what’s wrong baby?” i ask calmly. he takes a deep breath before answering “this is all my fault” he mumbles so quietly it’s barely audible. “what?” i gasp, completely dumbfounded that he would even think for a second that any of this is his fault, how could it be? “this is all my fault y/n! i forced you into coming surfing with me even though there was a storm and now you’ve hurt your pretty little face” he slightly raised his voice, sounding panicked, as he gently runs his hand over my, now bruised, cheekbone. “this isn’t your fault Jayj i promise, i know you’d never intentionally let me get hurt, it’s okay.” i said, hoping it would make him feel better about the situation. “now let’s go just relax and watch a movie for a bit love”

#jj obx #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx cast #obx fic #obx #outer banks #jj fluff #jj maybank fluff #obx fluff #outerbanks fluff #rudy pankow

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uceyliyahh · 2 months ago

Text

UNDER YOUR TOUCH

Summary; After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 5036

Smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso X Tiana

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tagged 🏷️

@paigereeder @biancasreign @pinkwithhearts @jstarr86

II.

TIANA

I was at work doing my final client's nails for today; she just wanted some French-tip nails with some gems on something pretty simple. As I was doing that, I saw that Josh had texted me, saying that he was on the way to come see me at my workspace.

Ever since yesterday, while we were on the phone together, we've been texting each other non-stop. Sometimes, it would be flirting or something sexual, but I was still keeping my guard up because, like I said, I didn't know where his energy was.

But I did have this crazy ass wet dream last night about him, and I was literally sweating bullets this morning.

As I was finishing up her nails, I saw a car pull up to my shop. I saw him get out of his car, enter the building, and look around for me.

When his eye darted towards my direction as he put a smile on his face, causing me to see his grills while walking towards my direction.

"Hey, pretty mama." Jey said.

'Him calling me "pretty mama" does something to me.'

I stood up as he placed his hands on my ass, giving it a good grip as I looked down at my feet, blushing like crazy.

"I still have a client to finish, sir, so you can sit and wait until I'm done." I said while sitting back down.

"Your nail shop looks so pretty here, ma." He commented.

"Why thank you, sir. My parents helped me pick everything out."

He hummed in response while pulling out his phone to be on as he waited patiently for me to get done.

I kept stealing glances at him as he sat there, man spreading, looking all good, wearing all grey, and again, his shoe game was on point until the girl said something that kind of threw me off.

"He's fine as hell, girl. Is he single?" She asked.

I shrugged my shoulders at her while curing her nails, "ion' know if he is probably taken." I could see her face being displeased at my response to her question.

The curing light had turn off as she pulled out her nails, looking at them.

"Ouuu girl you do it right every single time."

"You know I do." I said while smiling at her.

She paid me and gave me a good tip as well while I took pictures of her nails and posted them on my story like usual. That's when I saw her get up and go over there towards Josh, trying to get his attention.

I monitored the whole interaction, reading Josh's body language. It seemed like he was uncomfortable talking to the ol' girl, brushing her off as she left the building embarrassed.

I just chuckled while cleaning up my space. As I was wiping down the table, I felt Josh's presence around me, and he touched me, causing me to jump a little.

"My fault; I didn't mean to scare you, mama." He said softly as he placed his hands around my waist, nuzzling his neck onto my shoulders.

'He's getting way too comfortable with this right now, but I'll let it slide this time.'

"It's okay, Josh; just don't distract me while I'm cleaning," I said as I proceeded to clean my table and equipment.

Knowing that he wasn't going to listen to me, I felt him feeling up all over my body, including my breast gripping them, causing me to softly moan enough for him to hear.

"J-Josh, knock it off." I let out a breath.

"why mama? It's just us in here ain't nobody finna come in." He said while giving me kisses on the neck.

"Joshhhhh."

He stopped while chuckling at me as my face was flushed. While giving him a stern look, I walked up towards him, hitting him in his chest.

"My god, you're so annoying boy." I said while being annoyed.

"what? you is fine as hell girl." Jey said.

I rolled my eyes at him while continuing to clean everything before closing up shop.

✧.*

After closing up the shop, I told Josh that I was going to go home really quickly, take a shower, and change into some new clothes before going to lunch with him.

I pulled into the driveway, turning off the ignition in my car while unlocking the door. Bianca was watching TV with Montez, and they both looked at me.

"Hey girl how was work?" Bianca asked.

"It was good; I made some good money, and Joshua stopped by," I said as she sat up, wanting to hear more about this.

"GIRL WHAT? today?" She said.

I nodded my head, yes, as I went upstairs. She was following me to my bedroom, shutting the door behind her. "What'chu getting ready for?"

I looked at her while taking off my clothes and throwing them in the dirty bin. I was picking out a cute little outfit with a skirt.

"Joshua is taking me out for lunch." I replied as I heard her squealing from the top of her lungs.

I really couldn't really stand her ass, bro, like nothing is going to happen after this.

"Girrrrrl, you gotta lemme fix your hair and makeup for this date." She said.

"It's not a date B."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, girl, hurry and take a shower so I can do your hair and makeup."

I nodded my head yes while heading to the bathroom to take a shower. I let the water hit my body gently while lying on the wall next to me, just in my thoughts as usual.

MINI SMUT WARNING I was thinking about him earlier after what he did I just couldn't stop thinking about it it's like I wanted him to do more of just kissing me on the neck.

I felt myself touching myself in, imagining him beating my back out while pulling onto my hair, slapping my ass, choking me.

I felt my breath getting uneven, not trying to moan loudly while Bianca was in my room as I continued to rub myself thinking about him.

'Why is he making me feel this way when aren't around each other?'

I was holding my legs together while moaning his name softly so that Bianca wouldn't hear me I haven't touched myself in so long it felt so good to do so.

I felt a pit going down in my stomach as I rolled my eyes in the back of my head while continuing to rub my clit faster.

Imagining it was him rubbing it while eating it, too? I bet his head game was on point, and his stroke game was, too. He seems like the type to be dominant whenever it comes down to it.

"F-fuck J-Josh." I moaned softly as I heard a knock on the door.

"Hey girl, are you done c'cmon? We gotta get you ready." Bianca said.

"I-I'm a-almost f-finish!" I felt my legs tightening as I came all over myself while breathing heavily. SMUT OVER

I wiped myself down with my rag while turning off the shower, exiting the shower and wrapping my towel around my body.

I walked back inside my room and closed the door behind me, while Bianca looked at me with a perplexed expression.

"Girl, you good? Why do you look so flushed?" She asked.

"Nun girl let's focus on getting me ready." I said while pretending like I ain't just touched myself.

✧.* Bianca got me together while fluffing my hair up one last time. She smiled while looking at how good I looked for this mini date—' well, 'that's what I would call it.'

I texted Josh that I was ready for him to come get me while I sent him the address to our place. He texted back, saying that he was ten minutes away.

'He's not fair from where we are at?'

"Ouuuu, girl, you look so good. He's going to be all over that today, so you might as well pack a sleeping bag over there," Bianca said as I hit her in the arm while she winced.

"Girl, don't play with me right now. We are not going to be doing nun of that," I said.

"T, I know you're going to be pouncing on Joshua soon enough once you see a fine specimen like him, " she said as I gave her a stern look.

"Girl shut up."

She chuckled a little as she saw a car pull up in the driveway. It must've been Jey pulling in. " Ya man just pulled me, Tink."

"One last time, he's not my man B." I said as she threw her hands up in defense.

'I mean, is she lying about what she said? I mean, this man is way too fine to be single fr.'

I looked in the mirror one last time before opening the door for Jey. As I opened the door for him, I was captured by his pretty face, not even noticing the bouquet of roses he had in his hands.

'Damn, he looks so good right now, making me think about earlier.'

His fit and color looked good on him, too. As he smiled, it looked like he had fresh-cut grills in his mouth, and I did the same thing.

He was wearing a tight, deep black shirt that looked like it was made from silk, so I could see his muscular body and arms. He was also wearing a Rolex watch and some nice leather pants, including the golden chain he had on. This man was prepared.

I snapped back into my senses as he walked up towards me, handing me the roses, which were my favorite, especially since they were white.

"Josh, you didn't have to get me roses." I said while smelling them.

"I'll do anything for a pretty woman like yourself." He said while grabbing me by the waist, pulling me into him.

'This man will be the death of me I swear.'

He didn't even acknowledge Bianca, who was standing right there watching us. Instantly, I folded for this man. I couldn't even keep eye contact with him because he made me nervous. No man has ever made me feel like that.

'Not even Malakai so Jey is the only person to do so.'

"C'cmon, love birds, let's get you all outta here, please. I don’t want to see all that in front of me," Bianca said as I looked at her in disbelief.

She gave me the don't start look, and I snickered at her as Josh and I left to get something to eat together.

We were in his car, driving towards the place while listening to some music that he was playing in the car. He had his hand on my thighs while driving with one hand.

God, this man was so fine without even trying, bro. It doesn't make sense. I was looking outside the window, enjoying the car ride, when I felt him squeeze my thigh, making me look at him.

"You good mamas?" Jey asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine Josh." I said while giving him a faint smile.

"Ight I was just making sure, with yo cute ass." He gave my thigh a little slap on it as I hissed at the stingy sensation I felt on my thigh.

I mean, mugged while rolling my eyes at him, "Keep rolling them eyes at me. Imma' give yo ass something to roll 'em about." My face felt a bit flushed when he said that kinda got me excited but I digress.

When we finally pulled up at the restaurant, it looked so pretty, and the aesthetic was very pleasing to look at. I felt like I was on the set of a show or something, you know?

We sat down at our tables while waiting for the waitress to come, but he kept stealing glances at me every chance he had, which seemed pretty amusing if you asked me.

"What, boy? you've been looking at me for the past minute now." I said as he licked his lips.

"I mean, what can I say? You're a very beautiful girl. How can I not look at you?" he said while rubbing his beard.

'I like his energy fr.'

"Stoppp, Josh." He was making me feel nervous. He chuckled lowly as we saw the waitress coming.

"Hello, guys. I'm Stacy, and I'll be your waitress for this evening. Can I get you all something to drink?" Stacy said.

"I'll take a water with ice and lemon please." I said.

"How are you sir?"

"I'll also take the same thing but without the lemon."

She nodded her head, yes, while letting us know that she'd have our drinks here in a bit. Meanwhile, Josh and I just couldn't stop glancing at each other, monitoring our features.

I couldn't keep eye contact with this man anymore, so I looked down at the ground for a bit, trying to keep all of my dirty thoughts to myself until he spoke.

"Lemme see that pretty ass face mama, don't be shy." He compliments while rubbing my thigh with his hand.

'He was making me feel wet right now.'

I want to do the things I want to do to him right now, but we are in public, so that's going to have to wait. I had to break out of this, "Whatever, so you're a tattoo artist?"

He nodded his head yes, "Yeah, I've been doing it for like four years now, and I own that tattoo you were in when we first met." Jey said while folding his arms.

"Oh, fr that's dope as hell, Josh. By the way, I loved the aesthetic of your tattoo shop," I said as he smiled and showed off his grills.

"Why, thank you mama." God, I am melting at this point with these pet names.

✧.*

Josh was taking me back home after our evening together. It's almost making me believe in love again, but I'm still going to keep my guard up and protect myself.

He was passing the blunt towards my way as I smoked it a few times before giving it back him we were high as a kite not even going to hold you, mind you I was already feeling him.

He stole a glance at me as his eyes were red and low, turning me on, but that had to wait because I was not ready for allat shit. His probably bigger than Malakai, ion know, but I didn't want that thing near me.

"You know what would be good right now? seeing yo ass bouncing on this dick." Jey said lowly.

"Mhm, we'll see boy." I said feeling him squeeze on my thigh.

"you scared, huh? you scared you won't be able to handle it." His ass read me like a damn book; how did he even know that? It was probably my energy, and I can't help myself when there is a fine specimen driving me home.

We continued to smoke out the rest of the blunt together felt like we were on cloud nine in his car; I felt even more hornier than ever.

We pulled up to the driveway as he turned off his ignition in his car as we both sat there in silence and high as fuck, I noticed him reclining the back of his seat while looking at me.

"C'mere mamas." he said while unbuckling my seatbelt, pulling me onto his lap, and holding me in place with my hips.

He looked up at me while licking his lips, slowly moving his hands onto my ass, gripping both cheeks, causing me to feel an electric shock down my spine all the way to my pussy.

"J-Josh Bianca and Montez are here." I said.

"So? What that gotta do with me, ma?"

"I'm just saying that's all."

He nodded his head while continuing to rub both of my ass cheeks, giving it a good smack on both of em making me yelp.

I felt him getting hard up against me, which, honestly, I wanted to escape before getting my back blown out by him. Ion know how he is when it comes to fucking.

"Shit girl, you getting me all bricked up and shit." Jey said while thrusting up his hips a bit for me to feel it.

Jey sat up, and my face and his were close to each other, eyeing each other's features and details. It was like we were trying to read each other.

He looked down at my lips and then back into my eyes. I could read him carefully; he wanted something as I felt him grab my throat with his hand while placing his lips onto mines.

Gripping my ass tighter, causing me to moan in the kiss, feeling him smoking under it, for some odd reason, I started moving my hips onto his hardened dick, causing him to moan.

We continued to tongue kiss each other as he replaced his lips onto my neck, sucking it , marking me up while gripping onto his mullet hair along with moving my hips still.

"you. finna. make. me. fuck you. if you keep playin' with me lil' mama." Jey growled in between the kisses.

I didn't want to get myself in trouble so I just stopped my movements while continuing to make out with him in his car, he held onto my throat firmly ass both our tongues were fighting for dominance n of course his won.

He marked me up perfectly while pulling us away from each other to take a breather as we looked into each other's eyes deeply. Mind you, we were still high as hell.

Now he was hard as a rock underneath me. He pecked my lips softly as he placed his hands back onto my ass, gripping it.

If there is any light movement right now, I will probably be folded like a pretzel in the back seat.

"why is yo' ass so pretty ma?" He asked while playing in my hair.

"I don't know, sir, why don't you ask my mama?" I said as I played with his face along his mullet.

'There's something about him that's different from Malakai, I just can't put my finger on it.'

We were both horny and high, but I didn't want to go far because I needed to get to know him more before we headed towards that stage.

"If I pull these panties down along with my boxers, you goin' to let me beat it in?"

My mind was foggy, and I couldn't think straight due to us being high, so I nodded my head yes while continuing to play in his hair.

"Hmm, you lucky. You're home right now, so I'll wait." I nodded my head while shifting off of him back into my seat before me and him started walking out of the car.

I made sure I grabbed my purse and keys. Meanwhile, Jey walked me up to the door, turning me around to face him.

"when am I going to see yo' pretty ass again?" Jey asked while holding onto my hips.

"Whenever you want to see me, you know where I'm at and where I stay." I said wrapping my arms around his neck.

"hm, bet imma see you later then mamas." He pecks my lips a few times before pulling away from each other's grip.

I unlocked the door, and Bianca was in the living room. She noticed my hickies, and that's when she started yelling from the top of her lungs, probably enough for Jey to hear.

"DID YALL FUCK WHEN YALL GOT HERE!?" She shouted as I rolled my eyes at her.

"No, B, we didn't fuck. We just made out and gave each other hickeys, that's all." I said while holding onto the wall as I was taking off my heels.

She sniffed her nose like she was a dog or something.

"Y'all smoked some weed?" Bianca asked.

"Yes we did I didn't even know he get down like that."

I went upstairs towards my bedroom while shutting the door behind me sitting down on my bed feeling relaxed.

I felt my phone beeping. I had two attachments and one video from Jey. When I went to open the messages, I almost had a heart attack looking at them.

He sent me two attachment of his dick and a video of him stroking it a whole one minute video of him stroking it while moaning my name.

It almost wanted me to send him some pictures, too, but we were getting way too comfortable with each other until he sent me another message.

Jey: I wanna beat your pussy in so bad rn looking all good like that today. 😮‍💨

I liked his message before heading in the shower.

✧.*

Josh and I were on FaceTime together. I was watching a movie, and he was on the game like usual. I propped him up on one of my pillows so that he could see me as he did the same.

'It was like we were doing couple things without being a couple.'

FACETIME Jey: mama what'chu sleeping in right now? Tiana: something comforting Jey: lemme see

I removed my blankets off of me showing him what I was wearing, I was wearing a tank top with some booty shorts on while purposefully bending over just to tease him a little bit.

He licked his lips while rubbing his beard with both of his hands.

Jey: don't play with me tiana like I won't come over there and beat that shit in. Tiana: hm ion think so but okay Jey: Bet. Tiana: what you mean bet? you aren't actually driving down here right?

He didn't say anything but put on a shirt and his sweats hearing him grab his keys as he ended the conversation, 'I know his ass ain't coming over at this time of night.'

I think Bianca and Montez were still downstairs watching a movie together, so they'll probably let him in, knowing how badly Bianca wants me and him together.

Maybe teasing him wasn't the right move because I'm not prepared for him to beat my shit in with that big ass dick he got, my assumptions were right he was wayyy bigger than Malakai.

Seeing a car pull up in the driveway I knew that it was Josh because he plays Loud music in his car, I heard him knocking on the door knowing that Bianca would let him in hearing them talking downstairs.

"Yeah, she's upstairs right now, probably sleeping."

I heard him chuckling

"oh fr? well, she has a surprise."

I heard their footsteps stop near my door before they started to knock. I stood up, acting like I was sleeping, opened the door, and saw Josh and Bianca standing there.

I pretended to yawn while rubbing my eyes, stretching. I knew that Josh wasn't buying my act, but Bianca had no clue what was happening.

"My bad girl I didn't know you were sleeping," Bianca said.

"Yeah, I guess I might've slept for too long." I said while looking at Josh.

"Well, okay, then I'll let you two be." She walked back downstairs, and Josh stood there with his arms folded.

I turned around, walking away as I heard him shut the door behind him, grabbing me up by my thighs as I wrapped my legs around his torso.

He gaze was dark and lustful as he walked us towards my bed sitting on it and holding me in place on his lap.

He proceeded to grab my throat firmly while keeping his eyes on me, monitoring my features as I did the same thing.

He began to capture his lips onto mines as we both moved them in sync as I felt his hand slowly moving towards my ass giving it a good grip on it meanwhile I felt his tongue sneaking inside my mouth causing me to be taken aback by this until he pulled me in closer making it more aggressive and passionate at the same time.

MINI SMUT WARNING.

"when I give you this dick, yo ass betta not run you hear me?" He demanded while looking into my eyes.

I nodded my head in response as I felt a slight slap on my thigh, causing me to winch in pain, "lemme hear you say it, mama."

"Yes I hear you Josh." I said softly.

He began putting his face in between my legs and started to eat my pussy out causing me to moan loudly.

His nose was rubbing up against my clit while I was gripping onto his mullet.

'This man gives wayyy better head than Malakai.'

I felt him stick two fingers inside of me as he continued to rub his nose onto my clit including moving his fingers at a normal pace.

He was working magic onto me I felt so overstimulated right now this man had me seeing stars.

"F-fuck Josh..." I moaned while continuing to grip onto his mullet.

"Uh-Huh...mama... it feels good, doesn't it?" he cooed as he kept his pace going.

"Y-yes. " I felt like I was on cloud nine right now, as his tongue was doing the work, and his beard tickled me a bit.

I felt his fingers moving a bit faster as he looked up at me with his hooded eyes, it satisfied him seeing me squirming around his touch.

He rubbed his nose and tongue faster onto my clit having me roll my eyes in the back of my head while breathing heavily.

"J-Josh!"

"Give me that shit mama, cum on my face, c'cmon you got it baby." Jey encouraged as I felt a heavy pit going down my stomach.

I felt my legs tighten as I squirted into this man's face seeing him sucking all of my juices down causing me to shake violently.

"fucccccck Joshhhh." I moaned loudly as I was breathing heavily.

Josh pulled his face from my pussy seeing him suck his fingers tasting my essences, he pulled down his red psd boxers as my face went into complete shock.

He smirked down at me seeing his nice eight inch brown dick sprung up from his boxers ion think I'll be able to handle this.

"Come suck it mama, I wanna feel your mouth around it." Jey said as I put my hair up in a pony tail pulling his dick towards my mouth.

I was bobbing my head up and down on his tip as he was moaning in pleasure while throwing his head back.

I kept stroking it up and down as my tongue circled around his tip driving him insane as I felt him grab a full load of my hair and begin thrusting inside of my mouth lucky for me I didn't have any gag reflex.

"Fuuuuck mama your mouth feels so good around me...shit." Jey grunted as he kept moving his hips.

His dick was deep inside my throat as I was holding onto his thighs trying to keep up with his pace causing me to stop him trying to gain some type of control.

I went back to stroking him while constantly licking his tip it was a lot of saliva dripping down on the bed sheets and my thighs.

"this yo' dick mama, all yours." I love hearing that so much coming out his mouth hearing him moan and groan.

I was squeezing his balls as he tightened his legs a bit while I continued doing what I was doing, swirling my tongue onto his sensitive tip.

He wanted to grab onto me but didn't as I felt his dick twitch inside of my mouth, knowing that he was close to busting inside of my throat.

"D-don't stop, Mama... keep goin'," Jey moaned, throwing his head back.

I could see him roll his eyes in the back of his head while gazing down at me caressing my cheek.

"Fuck you're so beautiful." I smiled at him while bobbing my head faster so he could get his nut.

He grabbed my hair once again, thrusting inside of my mouth in a fast past, letting him gain control again while I held onto his thighs.

He threw his head back at the pleasure he was feeling as he kept his pace up, making me breathe through my nose.

"When I nut, I want you to eat that shit up, you hear me?" He grunted as he kept face fucking me.

My throat and jaw were in pain but I had to keep pushing through it as I pushed myself back to jerk him off as he whined.

I found it amusing to hear him whine as I kept stroking his sensitive tip up and down feeling him quivering under my touch.

As I gave it one last stroke, he groaned very loudly while cursing under his breath as his nut splattered all over my face, feeling this sticky sensation on my face.

SMUT OVER.

I went towards the bathroom to wipe down my face until I felt him behind me kissing my shoulder as he tapped his dick onto my ass.

"Didn't I say when I give you this dick, yo' ass betta not run right?" He said.

"Y-yes?" I said nervously.

"Well c'mere and give me this pussy then mama."

Under your touch.

biancabelairwwe, shelovekai, MontezFordWWE and 88,999 people liked your posted.

tianasworld: get you a man that can take you out to a nice lunch thank you @ uceyjucey 🥰

biancabelairwwe: GIRL HE TOOK YOU THERE? HE GOT MONEY FR YALL BETTER START DATING LIKE NEOW! tianasworld: @ biancabelairwwe girl...relaxxx shelovesemma: wait a minute you got a new man? tianasworld: @ shelovesemma 🤫🤫 shelovekai: she don't got a new man I bet he probably a bum fr 😑 uceyjucey: @ shelovekai but I'm beating her guts in better than yo' goofy ass so move around. 💁🏽‍♂️ MontezFordWWE: @ uceyjucey 👀👀

A/N: phew I didn't expect to write this much today lol but I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments.

Stay Ucey.

#jey uso #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso smut #jey x oc black #black fanfic writer #black oc #black writers #wwe fanfiction #wwelove

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creepling · 1 year ago

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˚ ༘`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WEEK 01: DBF! J. SLAUGHTER / 5k

WRITTEN FOR KINKTOBER 2023

synopsis. reader's father brings on an apprentice to work for him, but the young lad becomes an unlikely friend to the old man. johnny becomes a regular in your household, and the thoughts about him are becoming unbearable. when they become reality, johnny puts you in your rightful place.

tags. smut - MDNI. dad's best friend. college student!reader. size kink. height difference. reader is twenty-one, johnny is twenty-eight. dacryphilia. reader description in bikini top & shorts. sneaking off. bedroom sex. yearning. smoking cigarettes. power imbalance. secret relationship. rough kissing & sex. edging. oral (f & m receiving). use of 'little one', 'slut' and 'baby' as pet names. stomach bulge. johnny is too big for reader. positions: mating press, upstanding citizen, elevator stance.

Your dad was the guy the town went to to get anything from a tap to the free-loader truck fixed into shape. He was always handy with his hands, and it’s what brought the money in for the family. People come and go on the property, and you’re just glad the yards are big enough so they can work away in the blazing sun instead of disrupting the peace inside. At your considerable age, however, you never quite appreciated your dad appointing you as a jug maid when people came over—asking you to fetch water or mom’s home-grown lemonade and top it up for the guests.

Eight in the morning was the starting point, your mom fetching ingredients in the kitchen and your dad cleaning up his tools by the dining table. You idled behind the door as you listened to their conversation.

“Really? You’re gonna hire him?” Your mom said, confusion lacing her words.

“C’mon, it’s not the boy’s fault. Nancy said he couldn’t find permanent work in the city, and I’ve seen him fix things up – the kid’s got the touch. He can’t help who his family is,” Your dad defended.

“I don’t know, there’s rumours. I don’t wanna find out if there’s any truth,”

“Those are about Nancy, not him. Cut him some slack. You’ll like him when you get to know him.” That was the last you heard before you darted back to your room. As you changed for the day, you knew who your parents were talking about. Hesitant like your mother, you recalled your memories of the Sawyers and the Slaughters. They are a crazy bunch, not right in the head, tuned to the moon – the usual gossip about them. They were hushed words through the grapevine to you; you never met one of them in person. Now that Nancy’s ‘kid’ is your dad’s new apprentice, you could decide how crazy they are.

He drove in the yard in a busted-up truck, but the engine sounded clean and the exhaust clear as a whistle. Your dad stood out front while you and your mom hung by the porch. You strain your eyes to glimpse him in the bright sun. As he jumped out of the truck, your lips parted.

He was like something out of the movies. Hair slicked back – sun-kissed skin. Dust on his boots, the sleeves cut from his shirt. Head held high and flashing a smile as he shook your dad’s hand. You studied the flex of his arms – muscle-toned and robust. The rumours failed to mention how handsome he was, for sure.

Once he greets your dad, you and your mom walk towards him to get acquainted.

“I expected you to be a little scrawny thing,” Your mom smiled, just as surprised as you. The man chuckled and rubbed his neck awkwardly.

“You must be thinkin’ of Nubbins. I’m Johnny – Nancy’s son,” Johnny. It suited him like hair gel does a greaser.

“Gosh, I’m sorry, son, I’m bad with faces,” Your mom hollered, her bashfulness radiating off you and growing embarrassment in your core.

“This is my wife,” Your dad gestured, “And this quiet one at the back is my daughter,”

You introduce yourself. Johnny repeated your name, and it dripped like honey from his tongue. You mustered the coolest smile, hoping he blamed your bashfulness on the delirium of the heat. You spotted the hand he outstretched and shook it, your stomach doing summer salts at his firm grip—the stroke of his callous hands, deluging your hand. You could melt away in that moment.

Perch on the porch swing chair, nose in a book, your mind wandered to faraway lands to the noise of gears turning. Your dad praised Johnny’s working hands, a mutual bond in the early stages of establishment. Their tinkering perked your ears occasionally, your eyes peering over the book pages, salivating at the sight of Johnny’s gloved hands coated in soot. His eyes fixed on the mechanics, tiny strands of hair dangling over his forehead. Your dad calls on you, knocking you out of the trance.

“Fetch some lemonade, ay hun?”

You sighed, making your way into the house. In the shade, your skin still tingled. You glimpse your reflection in the hallway mirror. Cheeks dark – permanently flushed and hot. The pit of your stomach echoes alluring calls, burdening all logical thought. As you poured the glasses, you thought about those gloved hands gripping your sides, turning your body, greeting you with a rough kiss. Were his lips soft? Or brittle and callous, affected by the dry atmosphere. How much does his skin glisten with sweat? Do droplets run down the grooves of his muscles? His sun-kissed skin is littered with freckles, minuscule and collective, only noticeable when you kiss his points, running your tongue tactfully down his stomach.

“Honey, you’re spilling that!” Your mom rushed for a kitchen towel, soaking the lemonade that spread along the counter. You jumped out of your thoughts, awed by the mess, questioning the passing of time.

“Sorry, I was somewhere else…”

The thoughts only intensified when Johnny became a regular guest. He had much in common with your dad, and the unlikely man in his late 20s became a close friend to the older man. He was adopted by your dad’s friend circle, taking him under their wing, invited to BBQs, after-work bar drinks, and poker nights. When Johnny couldn’t make it, your dad always said he was in the city. You came to find Johnny wasn’t much older than you, but he likes to act like he is. One poker night, he walked past your bedroom, returning from the bathroom, eyeing the papers and books littering your desk. You felt his presence leaning on the door frame, thumbs hooked to his belt.

“Watcha got there?” He asked, his drawl never failing to amuse you.

“Summer reading. Gotta do it before I start the semester.”

“You’re always reading. Don’t ya eyes get sore?” His teasing took you by surprise. His hint at an observation was quite flattering. You thought he forgot you existed. It wouldn’t hurt to return the teasing, would it?

“Don’t your hands get sore from fixing so many cars?”

Johnny’s head leans back as he chuckles, a smirk on his face that could kill you on the spot. “You got me there, little one,” Johnny let his words linger as he walked back downstairs.

It should offend you to be called small, weaker, submissive. You were a grown-up. The grip on your pencil was firm but not from anger. It was from realising the sensation between your legs underneath your pyjama shorts. You were soaking wet.

July proved that this summer was hot, and there was no sign of it cooling down. Sitting outside was unbearable, and the thirst for cold water lay throats to dry as the pipes produced a lukewarm liquid that left a bad taste on the tongue. By the time Dad returned, the bags of ice melted in their plastic bags, causing your mother to rush about making ice cubes from scratch. All for the BBQ to still go ahead. The guests would be arriving soon.

Your parents’ friends arrived early to help out, and you heard the chin-wagging from up the stairs, cursing under your breath to find something decent to wear. Sweat invaded your skin even after having a shower, and the shorts and bikini top were becoming all too tempting to wear. You checked yourself in the mirror, the bikini strap tied around the back of your neck, the colour complimenting the hues of your skin. The plain and denim shorts are the most comfortable ones you own. Displaying your legs, room for the stomach, firm against your backside. It was the most revealing thing you’ve worn in a while, but as the sunlight reaches every corner of your bedroom, its feverish radiation gives you the excuse not to ponder. Checking your appearance once more, you sigh at your fussing and make your way downstairs.

Prepping food with your mom left you to wonder about your college friends. They were scattered around the states, living out their summers while you were stuck with the senior club. The guests remarked: if you don’t wanna hang with us old folks, we won’t take offence, hun. These people were considered your aunts and uncles; they’ve seen you in diapers. They braided your hair and kept your prying hands away from dangerous objects. The least you could do was spend time with them in your limbo stage of young adulthood and enjoy their company before you leave this town.

Things would have stayed wholesome if Johnny didn’t show up.

He wore the same clothes as always. This time, they looked like they had a fresh wash. His boots are polished, mechanic gloves discarded, his hair wet and slight back like he just hopped out of the shower. The congregation of the porch cooed at his arrival. The husbands were ready for handshakes, and the wives willfully smiled at his charming face. You were the only one to react like his welcome was neutral, even when you cocked your hip slightly to the side and fixed your hair.

He brought an offering of corn cobs, excusing the rest of his family not making attendance. “Momma wanted to give these as an apology for not comin’. She said she real busy. In truth, I think she was nervous comin’ here. She ain’t been out in a long while.”

They all thought how gratuitous the boy was looking out for his momma. You kept a blank face at their responses, knowing they would be as tense in meeting the ‘Black Nancy’. The black widow of Newt sitting with them, eating food with them, the rumours floating in their head like sewage in a gutter. It's a good thing he brought a meatless offering.

There were too many cooks in the kitchen as the men established a system by the grill, letting their wives sit around and ask Johnny questions, keeping him in their company. You sat by the edge, amused by the sight of his attempt to keep his cool.

They asked a lot about his family, and you sensed the tense build-up inside him from across the table. You bit your lip, staring into space, hearing the stutter of his words. He was like a meerkat around hyenas, and he didn’t like that one bit.

“How’s the old man? What was his name? Drayton! Is he still working at that gas station? Every time I drive by, there seems to be no gas in it,” The woman hollered, “Must be y’all bringing all the money in.”

“Wasn’t there a youngest? Must be cousins with yourself. ‘Went to school with my oldest, but he was not in it for long – teachers said he was slow-thinking. Think they pulled him out eventually. How’s he holdin’ up?”

The look in Johnny’s eyes, you hadn’t seen him like that before. Dark and daggering at the table, avoiding the gazes his way. You notice his forearm tense, his hands clenched into a fist. You felt like saying something.

“Quit your hollerin’ at ‘im! He don’t wanna gossip with ya!” Your dad’s friend nipped at his wife, causing the women to transfer into giggles.

“Would ya excuse me?” Johnny rose from the table and headed inside, insinuating use for the bathroom. As he entered the front door, you waited a few seconds before heading inside. Pausing by the hallway, you hear his footsteps, ear perking at a creak from upstairs. As you ascend the stairs, you see him loitering by the landing, arms crossed and back to the wall. His eyes closed, heaves of exhales coming from his nose – like he was meditating.

“Drains the life outta ya, doesn’t it?” You perked, earning a jolt of surprise from Johnny.

“What ya mean?” He drawled, shrugging his shoulders.

“They’re energy vampires. I love them and all, but- sometimes they never know when to read the room. I guess I just- I mean to say you’re not wrong for feeling annoyed by it,” You gingerly walk closer to him, eyes adjusting to his face in the dim light. He was always at a distance, a stunning piece to commend. This is the closest you’ve ever seen him. You glance at his worn-out jeans, the car spark burn-holes in his t-shirt, the scars littering his arms. He was a solidified dream, flesh and bone carved by the Gods – a little rugged. You cross your legs and hug your arms, unworthy of his stare.

He couldn’t help but stare, too, soaking you in from head to toe – revealing your attributes hidden by flowy blouses and cotton flares on an average day. Your skin looked soft and plush. The dip in your thighs from the denim hugging close, snug on your hips. The bikini demanded his attention, and his stare was everlasting on you. A warm aura collided with your tense muscles, still and eager. You straightened your back and hugged your arms tighter, defining the curve of your cleavage. Johnny cocked his eyebrow.

“You wanna hang out? We can sit in my room” Your suggestion slipped through your lips. You were urged by the thoughts signalling in your mind to fill the hunger for his hands on you. To find somewhere quiet and colluded for your moans to become ballads.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Johnny took a step closer to you. He was tall, his head tilted, eyes peering down at you. Your small stature shuffled back, but Johnny only leaned closer. The broadness of his shoulders engulfing you, his figure like a shadow. He was thinking about your suggestion, burying your head into the pillows, having his way with you. But for the first time, he felt like following a moral code – to not fuck his best friend’s daughter. He’d grown close to him and even appreciated his presence as the father figure he never had. But he had also grown fond of how you look at him, tempting him at every chance. Your acts were desperate; he mused on stripping you of your innocent facade, letting his hands reveal your alluring nature. Nervously laughing, you divert your eyes, swinging your legs in motion to your bedroom door.

“Well- while the old ones talk your ear off, I’ll be in my room. You’re welcome to join if you like,” You bite your lip and bat your eyes before closing the door.

Johnny shuffled between your door and the stairs, hearing the laughter from outside and a record hitting play through your wall. Both sound sources tugged at him until he finally gave him, opening your door discreetly.

You lay on your bed, positioned with your feet kicking the air, your hands splayed over a book you were reading earlier. The music mumbled as Johnny slowly closed the door, leaning on it as his eyes scanned your room. It was a physical personification of you, small tokens of memories littered around. The walls are still a pale pink from when you were a toddler, yellow-stained from cigarette smoke. Hand-me-down furniture in the set of dark wood, coffee stains on the desk, dust under the wardrobe. Johnny’s lips tugged into a smile, “Cute,”

You gave him room to sit on the bed, discarding your book and leaning on your side. Johnny prompted his back against the headboard, his boots dangling on the edge, mindful of the dirt on the soles. He digs into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes and lighter, clipping his lips onto the dout of the cigarette and pulling it out. You gaze at his pout and the clicker of the lighter, mimicking his inhale to steady the gutting pounds of your heart. You inch your fingers towards him, and he passes the cigarette, allowing you to pinch it between your fingers and draw it to your lips.

“Why’d you start working with my dad?” You ask the question you wanted to ask for a long time, to know the beginning of it all. To better understand the origins of his presence being the demise of your contentment.

“He offered me a job, I took it,” He shrugged, taking the cigarette as you passed it back.

“And now you’re the best of buddies. How’s that going?” You slightly tease, smiling at the sight of his smirk.

“I know you’re his daughter and all - but he’s a fun guy to hang around with. Doesn’t bother me he’s older. I like hanging out with him, and he’s taught me a lot on the job.”

Johnny taps the ashes into the ashtray at your bedside, his free hand by his side, inches away from yours. His hard fingertips traced circles on your duvet. You slide your fingers closer, breezing your nail along his index. He observed you, studying your innocent exterior, suspicious of your insinuating eyes.

“What about me? Am I fun to hang out with?” Your face dropped as he slowly shook his head.

“Don’t…” His warning was clear, but his tongue scaled along his cheek, trying to hold back. You roll your eyes and sit up, looking him dead in the eyes.

“You’re not that much older than me, y’know. You don’t get to treat me like a baby just because you're friends with my family.” You got your point across, narrowing your eyes as Johnny held in a chuckle.

“How old are you, anyways?” Johnny drawled, his eyes flickering to your lips.

“Twenty-one. And how old are you? Twenty-eight, going on Fifty?” Your face was straight, but you chewed on your cheek as his smirk grew contagious. A firmness gripped your wrist, and your breath hitches, pupils dilating as Johnny pours his stare into you. As he sits up, you feel small again, his shoulders at either side of you, his hard look demanding your attention.

“I see how it is. You’re all grown up now, but mommy and daddy still think you’re their sweet little baby. Everyone thinks you’re so damn cute, you’re the precious little angel. And you’re just getting darn’ sick of it,” Johnny’s words form a lump in your throat, and you meekly nod. His lips close to yours, and your mouth gapes open as he leans closer.

He pulls away, smirking at your intentions, biting the cigarette between his teeth. You turn away in a huff, rubbing your hot cheeks. How embarrassing to be teased like that and caught out on your feelings. Johnny was relishing it.

“Go back downstairs if you’re going to be like that,” You say, trying not to trip on your words and stand your ground. Johnny deadens the cigarette into the ashtray, and his boots scrape against the hardwood. He squats in front of you, forcing his gaze on yours.

“I ain’t doing anything outta malice, sweetheart. What you’re tryna do would cost me my job. What would your dad think of me? What would he think of you?” Johnny places his hands on your thighs, running his fingers along your bare skin. You caught your breath. “But… I’m not one to play by the rules. And, well, that little outfit of yours caught my eye the minute I came here.”

Johnny hooks his fingers under the hem of your shorts, his knuckles digging under the tight fabric. Your back arches along with your legs slowly opening, fixated on Johnny’s eyes on your body. “My, you’re just too tempting…” Johnny breathes out.

“No one has to know,” You convince, “I won’t tell anyone. You’ll still have your job.”

Johnny places his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek. You realise how big he is compared to you, how his hand could cover your whole face or wrap wholly around your neck. His lips tug into a smirk as his eyes devour you, “Yeah, let’s keep this our little secret.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as his mouth strikes yours, inviting you into a rough embrace. A low, mumbled moan vibrates against his lips, causing him to chuckle. Immediately, his arms around you press you against his body, bringing your small frame into a cradle as he stands up. Your legs wrap around his hips, his hands gripping your ass and the back of your neck. The effortlessness of handling coursed through your mind, wondering what other aspects he can achieve. His initiation of power lends you your submissive state, and you allow him to spread your short frame along your bed, his broad shoulders on either side of you, and he props himself with his elbows. He leans to one side, letting his free hand fidget with your shorts, his lips never leaving for breath. He tugs them off, chuckling as they fumble over your thighs.

Johnny trails his kisses down to your chest, his teeth scraping against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. His hands caught onto your breasts, massaging into their warmth. His nose is buried into your cleavage, and you take the time to undo the back of your bikini, letting the fabric fall on either side of him. The strap tickles his ears, and his hands yank the rest of the fabric, his mouth latching onto your nipples, a drawn-out moan escaping your lips. You wondered how loud is too loud. Will people hear from downstairs? Taking no chances, you clasp your hand over your mouth, sinking into the bed as Johnny attacks your sensitivity.

“Lemmie hear those moans, little one,” Johnny said between kisses, “You sound so darn cute.”

There it was again. Little one. You feel your underwear drenched as you buck your hips, your pussy rubbing against the thin material. It only intensifies as Johnny lowers his kisses, catching sight of the damp trail pooling in your panties. “Fuuuck,” he breathes out, pressing his fingertips against your warmth, making you tense. Pleading with your eyes as he teases you, your hips grind against his touch, begging for pressure. Johnny was not one for pleasuring others, but the sight of your desperation and your sweet scent sent his actions into overdrive. His fingers pull down the thin, cotton fabric, abandoning it on the floor, spreading your legs to reveal your dripping cunt.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” He prompts your legs over his shoulders, exposing you. You mewl at your vulnerability, eyes locked on his fingers inching towards you. He groans at his fingers sliding neatly between your walls, gliding upwards to your gummy clit. His touch was light but enough to make you shift your hips lower. He grunts, gripping your legs and giving you a firm stare.

“I need you to stay still, baby girl. I wanna take my sweet’ass time with you, ‘that clear?”

You nod rapidly, agreeing to anything that involves him touching you. You mentally beg for him inside you, to fill you up with his immersive fingers, letting each one stretch you out and tighten at his touch. You wanted to feel his tongue toy with your clit, cum all over his mouth. But he wasn’t playing by your rules, and Johnny will do anything to make you beg.

Johnny idles your clit, making his touch lighter whenever you press against him. He chuckles at your defeat, your ass sinking lower into the bed, obeying him in hopes of pleasure. Johnny takes his time sliding inside you, one finger after another, his mouth agape at the sight of your stretching cunt. You yelp into your mouth, biting down on your finger as you ease into his touch, gasping as he pumps in and out. Your eyes widen at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against your clit. Your stomach tightens, your hands grip the sheets, and a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

The sight of Johnny’s eyes looking up at you was maddening, his stare dark and lustrous. His free hand holds your leg wide, having all access to your sensitive cunt. The tip of his tongue rapidly against your clit, sending a tight, pleasurable feeling to your core. His experience was unlike any other. It beat all the sex you had before out of the park. Your climax inches to finish, your moans pitching higher, mewling against your pursed lips. Then, he stops, the cold air hitting against your throbbing cunt, his tongue licking his lips.

“Why’d you stop? Please, I was so fucking close-” You protest, but Johnny already has his fingers on your lips, silencing you. With a firm hold on your jaw, he slaps your cunt until it’s raw, basking in your surprise. The way your small frame protests his touch amused him more than he liked to admit.

“Awh baby, I don’t want you cumming so early,” Johnny mockingly coos, rubbing the bulge protruding from his jeans, “I gotta have some pleasure too, y’know.”

You sit up, practically clawing at his jeans, letting his hands stroke your pretty face as you reveal his cock. Like his hands, his length reached over your face, his girth heavy against your nose. Kitten licking his shaft, Johnny chuckles at your eagerness.

“Who knew you were such a lil cock slut?” Johnny amused. It’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for, he thought. His tip pokes your pretty little mouth, Johnny aiming entry, his head thrown back as you suck it gently in your mouth. He grips your hair, his burly strength pushing your mouth deeper around his cock. You choke as your nose tickles his base, gasping for air as he springs his cock out of your mouth. Once his cock is dripping in your drool, Johnny pushes you back, exposing your throbbing cunt to his erection.

Beyond the mist of lust, Johnny thought for a moment. His eyes scan you – your puppy eyes and puffy lips. His hands pressed down your thighs, exposing your entrance, his tip rubbing against your clit. He wanted nothing more than for you to be his tiny fucktoy. He undertakes, sliding his cock inside you, slow against your tightness, the pressure forcing him to stuff himself inside you. He watches as your pussy stretches around him, the way your stomach expands and reveals the bulge of his cock. He comprehends the size difference, how minuscule you are underneath him, and how in your stature you squirm under his force. You try to back up as he is halfway, your pussy choking on his cock, but he holds you in place.

“This getting too much for you, little one? Can’t you take all of me?” Johnny grunts in your ear, rutting the rest of his length inside you, smothering your face into the crook of his neck as you yelp. Burying his cock into you, he waits until you succumb to his length before getting back into position and pounding his cock in and out of you. The roughness to provoke against you sends mixed signals, your mind foggy and fixated on his cock. A jolt of pleasure fills you, his thumb rubs against your clit.

“Who knew daddy’s little girl was so cock-hungry,” Johnny teased, “A pretty thing like you wanting me to ruin this tiny pussy. Fuck, your dad’s gonna be pissed.”

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers never leaving your clit, watching you ascend into lust as he tells you how dirty you are, how he sees the way you stare at him, how you were asking for this. You thank him repeatedly, asking him to go faster, harder.

“You gonna make me cum,” You purr, your high coming close. Your words encourage Johnny to keep going until the opposite occurs. His fingers leave your clit, his thrusts burn into a slow rhythm, and you feel like screaming. A numbing agony takes over. You sob into his chest. Johnny forces you to look at him, witnessing tears fall. His edging came to a breaking point. Your orgasm is denied and torturous. You plead with him with your eyes, your lip quivering. His pupils dilate as you sob.

His thrusts are harsher as if forcing the tears to keep spilling down your puffy cheeks, grunts breathing out his mouth at the sound of you choking on your sobs. His hand wraps around your neck, pushing the air from your lungs, using every possibility to see you crying. You knew he enjoyed this, feeling him twitch inside you, your lulling eyes catching the perverted look in his eye.

“You keep doing that, and I’ll let you cum, baby girl,” Johnny promised, not caring how psychotic he sounded, showing his true colours. The creak of the bed intensifies as he drills into you, prompting him to pick you up in his arms. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, shocked at how flawlessly he picked you up, holding you like you weigh nothing. Your legs over his arms, his forehead pressing against yours. Mesmerised by the dark look in his eye, you silence your moans with pursed lips, astonished at your tender insides ruined by his rough thrusts. The tears keep streaming, the pain mixing with your arousal, your delicate cunt denied of pleasure, at his mercy for emancipation. Johnny kissed your tear-stained cheeks – a glutton to its salty taste.

“Such a good little pet for me, so fucking good,” Johnny mumbles, a belligerent on your ass, smacking you against him and grunting at the pleasure. “I’m gonna let you cum now, doll. Fuck – I want you to cum.”

You gasp in relief, repeating gratitude, the depths of his pummelling enough to bring your high from your ruined pussy to its release. As you speak and squirm, you cling to his broad frame, nails digging into his shoulders, suffocating your face into his neck. Johnny is unyielding to your cunt tightening around him, his length bathing in your wetness, an exhausted groan flowing from his agape mouth. Johnny holds your dead weight as you grow limp, lightheaded from the rush, but still able to keep you with perfect precision. Knowing his climax is approaching, Johnny slips your lame, small body off him, forcing you to his knees. You become alert in your position, held in place with your head directly under his pulsating dick, his hand firm on the top of your head, ready for his load.

Strings of hot seed stretch your face and hairline, grumbling curses from Johnny, the sight of you marked with his release clouding his mind— the residue hanging from your lips, relishing in his salty taste. Johnny smirks down at you. Even in his transition to clarity, you are a sight for sore eyes. “You look so pretty like that, little one,” he chuckled.

Both of you are quick to change, aware of the passing of time and the guests downstairs. Johnny helps you tie your bikini, brazing your tits for the last time before buckling his jeans. Cleaning the cum and tears from your face with a cloth, you gaze at him, fumbling with his belt, trailing your eyes along the perimeters of his body. Wondering if all of this was just another wet dream.

Johnny revised the excuse with you once more, “I was in the bathroom, bothered by last night's dinner. You were in your room studying. Got it?”

You smirk slyly, making Johnny cock his eyebrow. “You really want them thinking you were on the toilet for half an hour?”

Johnny rolls his eyes, “Better than them knowing I was fucking you. Unless you got another excuse, smartass?”

A smile erupts on your face, giggling under your breath. Your eyes look at Johnny, ready to ask about the elephant in the room. “Is this gonna be the first and only time?”

Johnny thinks about it momentarily, shrugging as he gazes down at you. “It can’t be too regular. But I would be lyin’ if I said I didn’t wanna see you again,”

You sit there bashful, the flash of shyness intensifying when he gently kisses the top of your hand, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. He had an edge to him. You discovered that in the trice, but it only heightened your infatuation with him. To be under him, in his command, you never felt more safe, excited, and thrilled by what life threw at you. The risk of getting caught, in any other situation, your good nature meets with anxiety. Johnny made it worth it. It was impossible to deny him. And Johnny could sleep tonight knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.

“‘Til next time, sweet thing,'' Johnny exited, winking before closing the door. You lay back on your bed, gaining your senses, the butterflies in your stomach still prevalent and consuming.

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