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littlexdeaths · 6 months ago

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scotty doesn’t know - e.m. iii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: cheating, lil sprinkle of angst, shitty (ex) boyfriend behavior, some major fucking CHEESE (sorry if ur lactose intolerant), reader is the ultimate tease, dom!eddie, light bondage, degradation kink, oral (m receiving), ass/pussy spanking, multiple orgasms, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: honestly about to dedicate my entire life and blog to @strangerstilinski because i couldn’t have gotten this one done without her help. also thank you everyone who has been so incredibly patient with me, i hope you enjoy xx.

word count: 8.2k

The weekend had come and gone way too fast.

And now Monday was staring you right in the face, and with it— a very important decision.

You spent the rest of your weekend with Eddie, cuddling, talking and just enjoying each other's company. For those two days you were in your own little world together and you honestly never wanted it to end. But realistically you knew you had to go home and return back to your reality.

A reality where you belonged to someone else.

Your parents were absolutely livid by the time you returned home late Sunday evening, getting the biggest lecture of your life after Eddie had dropped you off. To add fuel to the fire, Scott had been calling your house nonstop since Saturday morning, much to your parents' annoyance. But that was a conversation you weren’t ready to have just yet.

Especially not over the phone.

You tossed and turned all night, desperately trying to figure out what you were going to say to him.

Monday was going to be rough, you knew that. But the thought of being able to finally show everyone who your heart really belonged to made things a little easier. You hadn’t exactly let Eddie know of your plans to dump your boyfriend the following day but he could tell something was up.

From the way you kissed him goodbye in his van, right out in the open for anyone to see, including your parents. And the look you gave him as you glanced over your shoulder before continuing up your driveway. It gave him a spark of hope that maybe this wasn’t just a silly fling to you either.

You got ready that morning with shaky hands, tucking one of Eddie’s band tees into your Levi’s. The male had let you wear it home the previous day, mostly because he enjoyed the sight of you in his clothes a little too much. You fiddle with the belt loop of your jeans as you stare at your reflection.

A mixture of nerves and excitement swirled in your belly as you took in your appearance, smoothing your sweaty palms over your thighs.

You can do this.

You take one final look before grabbing your backpack and bound down the stairs with a newfound pep in your step. You can’t help the goofy smile from spreading across your face as you think of seeing Eddie, and it makes all this seem a little easier. You all but ignore the curious looks from your parents as you bolt out the front door.

They hadn’t seen you this happy in months.

But as you drive to school, those pesky nerves begin to creep back in as you pass Scott’s jeep. You will your heart rate to slow as you search for a parking spot. A sense of relief fills your chest when you notice one just a few spots down from a very particular van. Your hands shake as you pull the key from the ignition, taking a moment to collect yourself before you head inside.

You try to ignore the curious eyes of your peers as you enter the school, knowing the events of the previous Friday were still fresh in their minds. And you reach your locker without incident, quickly yanking it open to put away your textbooks. You keep your head down as you walk to your first class, part of you was just waiting for Scott to sneak up on you.

Oddly enough you hadn’t seen him or Eddie all morning, which was extremely unusual. By now Scott would've walked you to first class and you’d be spending your second period study hall with Eddie. So seeing neither of them had your mind racing, and your anxiety spiking.

Had Scott figured it out? Did he confront Eddie?

A pit begins to form in your stomach at the thought, and you don’t think you could ever forgive yourself if Eddie was hurt because of you. You’re so wrapped up in your own head that you don’t notice someone beginning to approach you. A look of determination on their face.

“I need to talk to you.”

The voice startles you, panic rises in your throat as your eyes lift. You are expecting to meet Scott’s icy glare, or the warmth of Eddie’s gaze. But instead, you are met with the soft but stern cerulean of Dustin Henderson.

“Me?” you ask softly, glancing around you before back at the younger male.

“Yes you,” he huffs in annoyance.

“What could you possibly need to talk to me about?” you keep your tone hushed as he takes the empty chair across from you.

“I know you think you’re fooling everyone, but you aren’t fooling me.”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment, fingers gripping the arm of the chair as he raises a brow at you.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t bullshit me, I know you’re sneaking around with Eddie,” he snaps.

Your heart leaps into your throat, mouth drying as Dustin continues to glower at you. A sting of betrayal suddenly fills your chest, and you feel foolish for even thinking Eddie would actually keep this secret between you.

But maybe he was just like Scott, who loved to brag about his sexual conquests to all his friends.

“He wasn’t supposed to tell—”

“He didn’t.” Dustin cuts you off, taking off his hat to run a frustrated hand through his hair. “I’m just not blind.”

You both sit in silence for a moment then, feeling even more confused than you were when he initially sat down.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

Dustin sighs, folding his hands together before he meets your gaze again.

“Eddie doesn’t know I'm here right now and honestly, he’d probably kill me if he did know.” The male winces slightly, before he continues. “But I am through with sitting around and watching one of my best friend’s hearts get stomped on.”

“Dustin, that’s not—”

He holds up his hand to cut you off, shaking his head.

“Just let me finish.”

So you hold your tongue, despite wanting to tell this kid that he has it all wrong.

“Eddie’s a good guy, one of the best I've ever known. And over the past couple of months we’ve all seen a change in him, he’s happier.”

That thought warmed your heart.

“But I can also see how all this is weighing on him. You may not notice it, but it’s definitely there.”

A lump has formed in your throat, watching in silence as the younger boy stands and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He glances at you once more, that look of disdain still written across his features.

“Now I know I can’t tell you what to do, but Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.”

And without a glance back in your direction, you’re alone again.

Fourth period.

The moment you’ve been waiting for and simultaneously dreading since Sunday evening. It was the only class you shared with Scott, and while you’d been able to avoid him most of the day— it was time to face the music.

When you step into the classroom, he is already seated in his usual spot in the back corner of the room. The empty desk beside him is practically calling your name.

But your whole body freezes when his eyes meet yours expectantly. And as he begins to wave you over, you make a beeline to the opposite side of the classroom. You keep your eyes low as you find an empty seat, chewing nervously on your lower lip.

When you flip open your notebook, you hear the familiar squeak of sneakers in front of you. Your eyes slowly lift to reveal the hardened features of your boyfriend. His jaw is set in a grimace, and he rests his knuckles harshly on the front of your desk.

“Babe, we need to talk.”

But before you have the chance to reply, Mrs. Jones enters the classroom in a flurry. The bell rings immediately after, signaling the start of class. And it’s hard to tell whether the abrupt noise or his harsh glare causes you to flinch in your seat. She claps her hands to attention then, but Scott still doesn’t move.

“Mr. McGuire, take your seat now.”

He merely scoffs before he stalks away, returning to his own seat. Feeling defeated, you slump down in your chair. Any confidence you’d had this morning seemed to dissolve under his angry gaze. The rest of the class period goes by in a daze, as you can’t seem to focus on anything besides the daggers that Scott has been throwing your way the entire hour.

Once the final bell rings, you shoot up from your seat so fast you nearly take a couple other students in your rush. You practically sprint to your locker, hoping to make it to the lunchroom before Scott can corner you.

But you underestimated his speed, especially when he was sober.

His hand suddenly slams your locker door shut, and he backs you into the cool metal. He leans his palm against the line of lockers, closing you in completely. There was no way you could escape him now.

“What is going on with you? Why are you being such a frigid bitch?” he seethes.

You can’t help but wince at the insult, shrinking under his increasingly angry gaze. People were beginning to stare, causing more nerves to twist in your gut. This was a much more interesting sight than anything the cafeteria had to offer. And while you hated the attention, you knew you had to do this.

Just like ripping off a bandaid.

“I want to break up.”

He clearly wasn’t expecting that, confusion quickly replacing the anger on his features. You let out the sigh you didn’t realize you were holding, relief filling your chest as you finally spoke the words aloud.

Scott runs a hand through his dark locks, pulling away from you ever so slightly.

“You want to break up?” his voice raises, “Why? Is this about that stupid fucking party?”

You knew it wouldn’t be that easy, he wouldn’t just agree and walk away. While you had tried to prepare yourself for what you wanted to say all night, your brain was struggling to string any words together.

You rub your temples, trying to prolong the inevitable but the male could only take your silence for so long.

“Well?!” he shouts.

You take a shaky breath as you square your shoulders, attempting to feign some kind of confidence. Dustin’s words from earlier echoing in your ears. He doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret. The sea of students had only begun to grow in the past few minutes but you don’t notice that Eddie was amongst them.

“I don’t love you, and quite frankly I don’t think I ever did.”

You could hear a pin drop.

“You're an arrogant, selfish prick. And honestly, I just can’t keep doing this anymore…” you pause, now meeting his stormy eyes.

“Especially when my heart belongs to someone else.”

If you thought Scott was angry before, you hadn’t seen anything yet.

His hand suddenly slams into the locker next to your head, causing you to shrink instantly. While he’s never been violent towards you before, you aren’t entirely surprised by it. It was just in his nature.

“So you cheated on me? Is that what you’re saying?”

Before you can get another word in, you hear the familiar clearing of a throat. And a ringed hand reaches out to harshly tug the male away from you.

“You just don’t learn do you, Scotty?”

Eddie is beyond fuming as he shoves Scott back into the lockers before the male can properly react. And while Scott wasn’t the smartest guy, he quickly seemed to put two and two together.

He looked between you and Eddie before he started laughing.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Munson? You’re fucking the freak?”

You instantly turn on defense mode, entirely fed up with his treatment of him. Before you can stop yourself, you copy Eddie’s actions and shove Scott back into the lockers. Surprise crosses both of the males' features at your actions, knowing you were never a violent or angry person.

But everyone has their limits and you’ve just hit yours.

“Yeah, and he fucks me so well too. Eddie here actually knows how to make a girl come— but I can’t say the same for you, McGuire.”

An astounding ‘oooh’ resonates through the crowd at your words.

Scott’s cheeks are flushed from a mixture of embarrassment and anger. No one has ever stood up to him like this before and he’s suddenly at a loss for words. Eddie is grinning like a mad man, clapping excitedly before he wraps his arms around your waist. You welcome his embrace, leaning back further against his chest.

Scott just stares at the two of you, gritting his teeth as you smile sweetly.

“Now, I think we’re done here. Let’s go, Eddie.”

The metalhead willingly lets you drag him away, only your destination wasn’t the cafeteria anymore.

You pull him into the nearest empty hallway, shoving him up against the wall and locking your lips together. Eddie eagerly accepts your advances, fingers lacing through the loop of your jeans to keep you pressed against him.

Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, making every touch of his skin feel like a live wire.

“Munson!”

You curse softly as you realize you’ve been caught, and quickly glance over your shoulder.

Mr. Mundy looks between the two of you with a deep sigh, “Now come on, you know the rules. Break it up or you’re both getting detention.”

You unwillingly pull yourself away from him and lean against the brick wall beside him. A glance out of the corner of your eye shows how the male is biting back a grin.

“Try not to infect your girlfriend with your delinquency, alright?” Mr. Mundy gives you both a disgruntled look before heading back into his classroom.

Once the door shuts behind him, Eddie lets out a soft chuckle and coaxes you back into his arms.

“Y’hear that? Girlfriend,” he teases, wiggling his brows but the title makes your stomach flutter nonetheless. “Didn’t even ask me out on a proper date though, sweetheart. I’m offended.”

He laughs as you playfully pinch his side, shaking your head fondly. You lean your forehead against his chest, letting yourself indulge in the scent of his cologne.

“Did you really mean what you said back there?” he says after a while.

The sudden change of tone has you lifting your head, gazing up at him curiously. Eddie pulls you in even closer, letting his hands rest on the curve of your waist.

“That your heart belongs to me?” he prods.

You look down at your feet shyly, not realizing that he had heard that part of the conversation. Eddie doesn’t let your gaze wander for long though, as he gently tips your head back up to meet his.

“Yes, I meant it,” your voice shakes, your nerves getting the best of you.

But the look that flits over his features has your heart skipping a beat and butterflies erupting in your belly.

“All mine?” he questions, nervously licking his lips as he awaits your answer.

“All yours, Eddie.”

Being Eddie Munson’s official girlfriend is more than anything you could’ve dreamt about.

While sneaking around with him was fun in the moment, the amount he wanted to show you off made your heart sing. You had never felt so wanted or taken care of in your entire life.

But it wasn’t always easy, as graduation continued to grow closer the two of you barely had any alone time together. Between Hellfire, band practice and constant cramming for finals— time was not on your side.

But busy schedules be damned, you both manage to carve out enough time for a date at Benny’s.

“The usual, kids?”

Benny calls from the kitchen with a grin as you both take a seat in your normal booth. The diner had quickly become your favorite place for date nights, in your opinion they had the best food in town. Despite Eddie’s futile attempts to take you to Enzo’s, you prefer the easy going atmosphere of the small diner much more.

“Nah, just two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries. We only got a few minutes before this one abandons me for prom shit with Wheeler,” Eddie teases.

You can’t help but pout, nudging his foot under the table.

“Says the one who abandoned me for movie night with Henderson yesterday.”

What you aren’t aware of though is how Dustin was actually helping Eddie pick out a tux and tie for prom. Laughing hysterically as the older boy panicked over what color tie would match perfectly with your dress.

Benny watches you both playfully bicker back and forth, shaking his head fondly. He brings out your order a few minutes later and unable to contain your excitement any further, you grab a fry and dip it directly into your milkshake.

Eddie’s lips freeze around the straw, gazing at you in absolute bewilderment when he pretends to gag.

“Sweetheart, that’s disgusting.”

You roll your eyes at his theatrics, taking a bite out of the fry before dipping it back in.

“You really shouldn’t knock it till you try it, Ed,” you say in a sing-song tone as your boyfriend urgently pulls the basket of fries away from you.

“Yeah— no way. I’m not doing that, you’re pretty sick in the head, baby,” he muses between bites of a plain fry. “Shit… and people call me a freak?”

You stifle a giggle as you lean forward, stealing the half eaten fry from between his fingers. You dunk it back into your milkshake and pop it in your mouth with a soft but exaggerated moan.

Eddie shifts slightly in his seat, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink. It was almost too easy to get him so worked up. You ignore the warning look he shoots your way as you reach for another fry.

“Come on, just try it.”

You scoop as much of the shake onto the fry as possible, holding it towards him. The male just shakes his head, leaning back against the cracked leather of the booth.

“You know, I don’t know if this is gonna work out between us, doll face,” he chuckles, watching as the chocolate cream begins to drip down your fingers.

His petulance continues but you’re still trying to goad him into taking a bite, dangling it in front of his scrunched nose, inching closer and closer. All in an effort to tempt him. You watch patiently, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip it between his pouty lips.

“This level of blasphemy might be crossing a line, even for me—”

Before he can finish his thought, there’s lukewarm milkshake and salt smeared across his cheek and the corner of his mouth.

Eddie sits in shock for a moment before you burst into a fit of giggles at his expression.

“Oh, you are asking for it now, baby,” he taunts.

You are unprepared as he dips two of his fingers into his own glass, reaching forward to smear the sticky chocolate across your cheek. You gasp when the male leans forward, mischief sparkling in his eyes. His tongue darts out, causing a loud squeal to escape you as he licks the milkshake from your cheek.

“Eddie, that’s gross,” you whine as you reach out to steady the glass before he dumps milkshake everywhere.

“Hm, you didn’t seem to find it that gross when it was buried inside your—”

You toss a fry at him before he can finish that sentence, hitting him square in the forehead. He looks shocked, ringed fingers dramatically grasping at his chest when he slumps in his seat.

“You wound me, sweet thing.”

It’s then that you take the time to really look at him, and a surge of utter fondness fills your chest. While he goes on a dramatic rant about how french fries could be considered a deadly weapon, you’re only half listening.

Instead admiring the way his dimple indents his cheek when he grins sheepishly at you, and his hands flail about when he speaks. And it really hits you just how lucky you are to have him, that he was all yours.

So when you lean forward to capture his lips and ultimately silence him— he’s a little surprised. But he cups your face between his palms and kisses you back with just as much fervor.

“What was that for?” he asks a little breathlessly when you pull away, and you just smile.

“Just… cause I can.”

His eyes soften and he reaches out to thread your fingers together. Eddie knows the significance of what that means, so he can’t help but lean in to press your lips together again.

“Fuck yeah, you can.”

You really wonder if the universe was playing one big joke on you.

After your mini date at the diner a few days prior, you’d barely seen Eddie the rest of the week. The guys had a big gig at the Hideout the following evening and have been using any spare moment they had to practice. While you understood the reasoning for it, the other part of you was becoming increasingly frustrated.

Eddie could definitely tell something was up, but he didn’t exactly have the time to ask you in the five minute intervals you had together between classes.

So in an effort to make up for his absence, Eddie asked you to tag along to practice that night. But you might have had some ulterior motives for agreeing. Since it had been well over a week since you had any proper alone time together, you were past the point of needy.

Despite still seeing each other, the rushed kisses and subtle touches weren’t enough for either of you.

This was the longest either of you had gone without sex, so you can only imagine he was feeling the same way. But if his longing glances told you anything, it was that he needed you just as much— if not more. So that’s why you showed up to practice in your shortest skirt you owned.

What the metalhead doesn’t know is that you aren’t wearing any panties under said skirt.

However, he’s going to find out soon enough.

You’d given him a quick peck on the cheek when you got there, nothing too much though. You really did want his friends to like you, and they seemed to hate the constant displays of affection you both exhibited on the daily. So you kept it subtle, mostly for that reason.

But a small part of you did it just to rile him more.

In the short time you’d been officially dating, it became quite apparent how much Eddie craved your touch, whether it was sexual or not. He’d subtly tap his fingers on your knee during group hang outs, or press his lips to your temple when he walked you to class. You found it utterly endearing, but you also knew you could use it to your advantage.

So you could immediately tell from the slight pout that your boyfriend wanted more than just a peck on the cheek.

Hook, line and sinker.

As practice continued on, you found yourself sitting on an unused amp, with no other chairs in sight. The group wasn’t exactly used to visitors during practice, so you had to make due. You didn’t mind it though, as it put you in Eddie’s direct line of sight.

About half an hour in they decided to take a small break, the other three males were chatting excitedly about their upcoming dnd campaign. Eddie was more focused on tuning his guitar, but his eyes continued to wander back over to you.

This was the perfect opportunity to let him in on your little secret, while the other members were too preoccupied to be paying attention to you.

You sigh heavily and lean your arms back, uncrossing your legs and letting them fall open. Giving him the perfect view of what you were hiding… or rather not hiding, underneath your skirt.

His eyes flick up to your face before they begin to travel lower, and it takes him a full minute before he notices. But once that recognition flashes across his features, his mouth hangs open in shock.

A playful smirk plays on your lips and you quickly cross your legs again, acting as though nothing had happened. Eddie’s jaw is clenched when he returns to tuning his guitar, feigning as though it had no effect on him. But you could tell from the growing bulge in his jeans, that it definitely did.

He was grateful he had the ability to hide his boner for the rest of practice, not wanting to explain himself to his bandmates. But you knew by his stiff posture, you were so in for it when this was over.

The thought had you squirming with excitement, and you tried your best not to make a mess all over your makeshift seat. Now that would be something you could never live down.

Thankfully Eddie decided to end practice earlier than normal, claiming they could all use a break after their busy week.

But only the two of you knew the real reason.

Eddie all but drags you out to his van once his gear is packed up, gently shoving you against the back door. He opens the other side to put his guitar back into the vehicle, and quickly slams it shut. You bite back a grin when he cages you in against the cool metal.

His jaw is still tense, eyes darkening when his hand begins to caress your bare thigh.

“That was quite the peep show, sweetness.”

You try to keep your breathing even, but his roaming hands are making that very difficult.

“I don’t know what you mean, baby,” you feign innocence, knowing it’ll only rile him up more.

While he loves when you’re his good girl, he also loves any excuse to treat you like his little slut. The brunette chuckles humorously, grabbing your chin in his free hand to keep your eyes aligned with his.

“Come on now, don’t play dumb with me,” he tuts.

You just continue to gaze up at him all doe-eyed, hands resting on his chest. You don’t answer him, which only makes him more frustrated than he was to begin with.

“I see how it’s gonna be... You wanna be a brat? I’ll treat you like one,” he hisses. “Now, get in the van.”

He pulls away, and you feel a sudden chill from the loss of his body heat. When you don’t move an inch his brow raises, cocking his head at you.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.”

As much as you would love to continue to push his buttons, you know you’re in enough trouble as it is. So you squeak out a quiet ‘yes, sir’ and round the side of the van to hop in the passenger seat.

Eddie is silent for most of the ride, but the tension in the air is palpable. While he says nothing, the glances he keeps tossing your way have you squirming in your seat. In an effort to stop your distracting movements he reaches a hand out, ringed fingers digging into the meat of your thigh.

And in your desperate state you can’t resist pushing him just a little more. So you rest your smaller hand atop his and guide his fingers in between your legs. Eddie suddenly slams on the brakes and your body flies forward when he pulls off on the side of the road.

He puts the van in park before turning to face you.

“In the back, on your knees. Now.”

You grin excitedly at his demanding tone, already anticipating what was to come. So you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and scurry into the back of the van without another word. Eddie takes his sweet ole time before joining you, as part of your punishment. He knew your patience would only last so long.

He flicks through his cassette tapes and fiddles with the radio volume… anything to keep you waiting.

So when he does finally join you in the back, you’re practically trembling with need. His hands cradle the back of your neck, titling it to bare your throat to him. He presses harsh kisses along your skin, nipping every so often. You can’t help but whimper from the contact, your hands reaching out to grip the fabric of his shirt.

But he stops you, immediately pushing your hands aside.

“Only good girls get to touch me,” he grunts.

Your eyes widen when he pulls the skull bandana out of his back pocket, maneuvering himself around you. He pulls your hands behind your back and binds them together with the soft fabric. Once he was happy with the secureness of the knot, he’s back in front of you.

This was something new.

His fingers gently grip your chin, but he forces you to meet his gaze.

“What’s your color, baby?”

As your sexual relationship began to delve deeper, the more safe words and communication became his highest priority.

“Green… neon fucking green,” you hum.

The smirk quickly returns to his features, and his lips go back to sucking on your neck.

“Watch that pretty mouth of yours, doll or I’ll put it to use.”

You can feel the wetness starting to drip down your thighs, having absolutely no barrier due to your lack of undergarments. His hands have found their way to your breasts, kneading them in his large palms before he continues lower. Once he reaches the apex of your thighs he nearly growls, feeling your arousal coating your supple skin.

“Fuck— I need you, Eds.” you whine, already forgetting what he had just told you only moments prior.

Eddie promptly removes his hands from you, the sound of his belt clinking open has you shivering in anticipation.

“You really want to test my patience tonight, don’t you?”

You now realize your mistake.

But you can’t find it in yourself to regret it when he finally releases his cock from the confines of his jeans. You glance up at him expectantly, licking your lips at the sight of his pre-cum coating the tip. His fingers guide your mouth open and can feel your body practically buzzing with excitement.

“Since you can’t seem to listen, I’m going to use your mouth however I want. If it’s too much I need you to snap your fingers twice. Okay?”

You give him verbal confirmation and snap twice to demonstrate that you are still able to do so even with your hands bound. Satisfied with your response he grins and opens your mouth wider.

“Lemme see that tongue, baby,” he instructs.

You obey immediately and he rewards you by slapping the head of his cock against it. Once… twice… a third time… before he slips it past your lips with a groan.

Eddie’s hand fists your hair, pulling your mouth even further onto his cock. You take every inch willingly, eagerly swirling your tongue around the base of his shaft. His eyes squeeze shut, mouth slightly agape as you take him even deeper.

But you already miss his piercing gaze, now desperate for him to look at you. So you pull back until his cock slips past your lips.

His eyes shoot open and he raises a brow at you, “Did I say you could stop?”

The utter dominance in his tone and stature makes you even wetter, your thighs pressing together as he continues to stare you down with those dark eyes.

“Want you to look at me,” you plead, batting your lashes at him.

He just chuckles, keeping his gaze locked on yours when you eagerly take him back into your mouth. His fist tightens in your hair, another groan escapes him when he hits the back of your throat. A wicked grin tugs at his lips when he feels you gag around him.

“That’s right, gag on it,” he coos.

Your eyes remain locked with his as he continues to use your throat, mascara tears running freely down your cheeks with each thrust. His groans fill your ears, each one sending heat straight to your core. His lips pull up into that signature smirk as he admires the absolute mess he’s made of you.

But before he reaches that peak, he slips himself out of your mouth. It’s too soon for your liking, despite the throbbing ache between your legs. He notices the pout on your lips, now eyeing the string of saliva that keeps you connected.

“As much as I’d love to come in that bratty mouth of yours…” he pauses, wiping up some of the drool from your lips with his thumb. “I’d much rather see it dripping out of that pretty pussy instead.”

You can’t help but whimper in response, letting Eddie bend you over the center console of the vehicle. He flips your skirt up, landing a harsh smack to your ass as he nudges your legs apart with his own. You’re suddenly grateful for the console beneath you, knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to hold yourself up with your hands still bound.

Eddie grabs your bound wrists with one hand, the other slipping between your thighs.His calloused fingers run through your slick folds, and he moans at the wetness he finds there.

“God… always so wet. You’re such a little slut for me, huh? You like when I use you like this, baby?”

You merely nod, your thoughts far too jumbled from his touch that words are escaping you. But Eddie isn’t having any of it, and really you should know better.

Another harsh slap lands on your pussy this time, a shaky gasp leaving your lips.

“Come on sweetheart, tell me…”

Eddie slips two fingers into your entrance with no resistance, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside of you. But his actions stop just as quickly as they start due to your continued silence. And when he begins to slip his fingers out, your walls contract around them in an effort to keep them nestled inside you.

“Cat got your tongue, baby?” he taunts.

You want to cry from frustration when he fully removes the digits, guiding your hips back towards him. Eddie just chuckles, before you hear him noisily suck your arousal from his fingers.

“Y-Yes, Eddie. Just please, fuck me,” you cry.

While you can’t see him, you know he’s grinning like a madman. Any further plans of begging disappear when you feel the tip of his cock rubbing through your folds. As much as he’d love to continue teasing you, his own impatience takes over and he slides into you with one hard thrust.

It doesn’t matter how many times he’s fucked you, you still feel so full. Stretched out beyond belief— it nearly takes your breath away.

Eddie doesn’t give you much warning before he’s snapping his hips back into yours. The sudden motion causes your head to lull forward and rest against the console. Your walls practically suck him in deeper, and he enjoys the pathetic little noises that leave you as he continues to slam into you.

“Fuck— you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Eddie uses your bound wrists to pound into you harder, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can already feel your orgasm bubbling up inside you, that band getting tighter as he continues his ruthless pace.

“You gonna cum already? Such a little slut…” he nearly growls, “Go on, do it. Let’s see how many times you can make a mess on my cock.”

Between his words and the constant pounding into your g-spot is what tips you over the edge, feeling your knees wobble from the force of your orgasm. Eddie begins to slow his pace, letting you ride the waves a little before he slips one of his hands between you to gently rub at your clit.

Your soft whimpers only seem to spur him on further, keeping a steady pace. But he rams into you so deeply, you swear you can feel him in your throat. Despite how slightly overstimulating the feeling is… it’s too good to stop. And you’d do anything to show Eddie how good you can actually be.

“That’s it… feels good, baby?”

You let out a small but breathy ‘uh huh’, that being the only response you can muster at this point. One orgasm has turned your brain to mush, and all you can think or feel is Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Your response has him chuckling, as the male continues to rock his hips into yours. He loves getting you to this point, so drunk on his cock that you can’t form a coherent sentence. His fingers start to pick up their pace against your bundle of nerves, feeling how your walls clench even tighter around him.

While he wants to fill you up so badly, he also wants to see how far he could push you. It was only fair.

“Wanna show me you can listen, sweetheart? Give me another one. You can do it.”

You nearly sob as your second orgasm suddenly crashes over you. While not as forceful as the first, it’s powerful enough to make your legs give out beneath you. Letting all your weight rest against the center console. Eddie is quick to help guide your hips back up, and stops the movement of his own.

You can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks when he frees your wrists, finally slipping out of you. You whimper at the loss of contact, but it’s not gone for long. As Eddie helps guide you into a sitting position, before carefully laying you back onto a pile of blankets.

He brushes the tears away from your cheeks, and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Can you give me one more? Doin’ so good for me, sweet thing.”

You practically preen at his praise, eagerly nodding when he situates himself between your legs again. He carefully lifts your trembling thighs, his touch much more gentle now. He caresses your supple skin before he slips back inside you with a deep seated groan.

You can feel how your hands begin to twitch at your sides, desperate to reach up and tangle your fingers in his curls. But his previous warning rings in your ears, only good girls can touch me. Eddie catches the subtle movement and reaches down to guide your hands up towards his head. And a loud grunt leaves him when he reaches your deepest point.

“You can touch me baby, you’ve earned it.”

He barely finishes his sentence before you’re threading your fingers through his wild curls and tugging him closer. Until your clothed chests are pressed together and you can feel the weight of his ribs against yours. Your mouths meet with a soft urgency and his tongue glides over your lower lip before slipping past them.

His pace has slowed tremendously, all in an effort to cherish the feeling of being inside you. Despite how rough can be at times, this was his favorite way to be with you. With your bodies entangled in every possible way.

While Eddie may put on a tough exterior, he’s a big softie underneath it all. And you’ve come to adore both sides of him.

He pulls away from your lips with a small gasp, greedily inhaling your mingling breath as his chestnut hues meet yours. Eddie looks beautiful like this, hovering above you all sweaty and flushed. It's truly a sight you wouldn’t grow tired of seeing. He doesn’t let lips stray too far though, leaning down to press hot kisses along your jaw towards your neck.

The brunette eagerly sucks onto the skin of your throat, tongue darting out to soothe the ache he leaves behind. One of your hands untangles itself from his tousled curls, slipping between your bodies to rub at your overly sensitive clit. Judging by how sloppy his thrusts were becoming, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Eddie buries his face into the crook of your neck, whining when you clench harder around him. The feeling of his cock twitching inside you has your head reeling, already so close to finishing for a third time that night.

“Fuck— I love you,” he pants, each slam of his hips becomes more frantic with his admission. “I love you, sweetheart.”

His confession is all it takes to push you both over the edge. Eddie’s hips stutter as he fills you, and your body arches further into his embrace with a cry of his name. It’s so intense that you can feel how his body trembles above you, and the stars begin to dance behind your lids. The weight of his words finally starts to sink in when he collapses on top of you, blinking away the tears that fill your lash line.

The mixture of your heavy breathing fills the silence and you gently stroke his curls while you both come down from your highs. Eddie must have felt your tears dripping down onto his cheek and his head lifts to regard you with concern.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” he asks.

You just shake your head, pressing another kiss to his awaiting mouth. But when you pull away a little too soon for his liking, he practically pouts. You just smile fondly, nervous fluttering in your belly at what you were about to confess. Despite hearing him utter those same three words only moments prior.

“I just… I really love you too, Eddie.”

The grin that stretches across his face has your heart thumping faster, your giggles soon fill the silence in the van as he presses tender kisses everywhere he can reach.

“Love you so much, sweetheart.”

The Hideout was packed, which seemed to be an unusual occurrence for a Saturday night in small town Hawkins. But the promise of multiple live bands quickly filled the seats that usually remained empty during the week.

Ever since you became official, you easily fit in amongst his large group of friends. Even Dustin, who was weary of you in the beginning, had quickly begun to warm up to you. But you had clicked with Robin the fastest and the two of you became very close in such a short amount of time.

Most of them had come out to support the band, besides the group of freshmen. As Eddie all but forbade from stepping foot in this establishment. His overprotective nature towards them was something you found to be incredibly endearing.

You were standing at the front of the crowd, snugly in between Robin and Steve. Mostly due to Eddie’s strict instructions to keep an eye on you. He could already anticipate just how rowdy this crowd might be from the moment you entered the dingy bar.

You anxiously shift in place, taking another swig from the flask that Robin had snuck in. You hadn’t seen Eddie for more than a few minutes since he dropped you off at home earlier that morning. And you were beyond impatient for the show to get started.

It was a little annoying how much you missed him when he wasn’t around, how uneasy it made you.

But the vodka was definitely starting to help soothe your nerves.

You continued to shift from foot to foot, partially from your growing impatience and partly due to the soreness between your thighs. The round in the van had only continued once you got back to Eddie’s trailer. He buried his tongue inside you while he showed you how much he loved you from between your thighs.

It’s as though the universe could tell you were getting antsy, as the lights on the small stage finally dim. You cheer loudly and the rest of your friends join in when the four males walk out onto the stage. They all take their respective positions, and Eddie slings his guitar strap over his shoulder and adjusts the mic stand.

“Good evening Hawkins, we’re Corroded Coffin. Thanks for coming out!”

A round of boos suddenly erupt from amongst the cheers, and your head instantly whips around to find the source. You see Jason and Scott’s whole crew leaning up against the back wall of the bar, a prominent smirk on your ex’s face. Your hands balled into fists and you quickly flip them all the bird before turning your focus back towards the stage.

Scott’s incessant torment had cooled off for a bit, but that entire week it was seeming to ramp right back up. While you knew your boyfriend could take care of himself, it still didn’t stop the fury from bubbling up inside you over it. Especially knowing it had only gotten worse because of you.

You find Eddie’s gaze again and he shoots a wink your way, not even fazed by their presence. They started off their set with a cover of Bang Your Head by Quiet Riot, already getting the crowd ramped up. Eddie was totally in his element, carefree as his fingers danced along the neck of his guitar. While they played mostly covers, they were able to sneak in a few original songs.

The crowd was overly enthusiastic, which was a nice change of pace from the five sullen drunks they usually had in attendance at their normal Tuesday time slot. While Eddie was riding that high, his eyes always seemed to find their way back to you.

“Thank you guys for being such an awesome crowd, this is our last song.”

In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve come to recognize almost all of their songs. Eddie was always bouncing lyric ideas off of you, or playing them for you any chance that he could. But hearing the first few chords ring out into the bar, you knew this one was clearly new.

And if shit eating grin he was sporting was any indication, he’d been preparing for this moment. Eddie’s eyes drift from yours to the back of the dimly lit bar as he begins singing. The opening lyrics make your eyes widen in shock.

“Scotty doesn’t know that Fiona and me do it in my van every Sunday. She tells him she’s in church, but she doesn’t go. Still she’s on her knees and Scotty doesn’t know.”

Your heart begins to race and that cocky grin never leaves his face. Your eyes follow his line of sight and you turn around, watching in amusement when you notice how Scott’s fists are clenched at his sides. This is by far the angriest you’ve ever seen him, and you can almost see the metaphorical steam coming out of his ears.

“Fiona says she’s out shopping, but she’s under me and I’m not stopping…”

A smug look graces your features when Scott meets your gaze, giving him a little wave before turning back to focus on your boyfriend. Eddie’s husky voice is full of confidence as he continues onto the next verse. That sound alone could bring you to your knees.

“I can't believe he's so trusting, while I'm right behind you thrusting. Fiona's got him on the phone, and she's trying not to moan. It's a three-way call and he knows nothing, nothing…”

Your mind instantly drifts back to that fateful phone call, that night being a major turning point in your feelings towards the metalhead. Your whole body flushes at the vulgarity of the lyrics, but in an odd way you find it kind of sweet.

Once he has your attention again, Eddie blows you a subtle kiss.

“The parkin' lot, why not? It's so cool when you're on top. His front lawn in the snow, life is so hard 'cause Scotty doesn't know! Scotty doesn't know!”

You watch in fascination as his fingers work diligently over the guitar strings, banging his head along with Jeff. The song aside, you really were enjoying yourself. Eddie lets his guitar fall to his hip, gripping the mic with both hands.

“I did her on his birthday…”

Your curiosity has gotten the better of you again, and you glance back to where Scott had previously been standing. The spot was now empty, much to your surprise. Scott was never one to back down without getting the last word. So you let your eyes wander around the bar, but Scott and his posse were nowhere in sight.

When the song starts to come to a close, Eddie and the rest of the guys have gathered at the front of the stage. Huddled together as they chanted a chorus of, ‘Scotty doesn’t know’, the crowd joining in unison. When you glance over at Robin, her grin practically matches that of your boyfriend’s.

While you had never explicitly told anyone (besides Robin) the details of how everything played out between you two, your ex definitely had his suspicions.

But now, one thing was for sure…

Scotty definitely knew.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh @mrsjellymunson @eddiesghxst @eddiesguitarskills @callsignraver @eldermayfield @potatobeans99 @loserboysandlithium @em0220

#the freak writes 🫧#my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧#eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #[ series: scotty doesn’t know ]#[ the munson files ]

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rambling-at-midnight · 19 days ago

Text

Whatever You Need

Request: Jason helping reader through their period

Pairing: Jason Todd x afab!Reader

Summary: Your period takes you by surprise. Luckily, Jason's there to take care of you.

Word count: 1.6k

Sorry this took so long... I started four different Jason fics, which means none were finished. But they should be finished and posted sometime soon.

Sprawled on the couch in your pajamas, watching an episode of The Great British Bake-Off that you’ve seen at least twice before, you feel the first twinge of pain in your abdomen. You don’t think much of it at first, which is a mistake. There are still two days before your period is supposed to start, and you ate ice cream after dinner even though you’re lactose intolerant and ran out of Lact-Aid a couple days ago. You figure you’ll head to the bathroom to deal with the consequences of your actions if the need arises, but you’re too comfortable to move when the weighted blanket on top of you has a name and that name is Jason Todd.

You’ve been on bedrest (or couchrest) for the past week and a half after a bad fall in the rain during patrol twisted your ankle. It swelled to twice its normal size. The upside was that it happened during winter break so you didn’t have to make the choice between limping to class or skipping. The downside was that you wanted your superhero persona to have more of a presence with Gotham’s goons. As a part-time hero, unlike Jason and most of his family, you get much less respect when suited up than, say, the Red Hood.

As a contestant’s dough fails to rise and they begin to have a breakdown on the screen, your stomach cramps again.

Sometimes, if you ignore it, the pain will go away. You’re too comfortable to get up now.

To distract yourself, you run your fingers through Jason’s messy curls. He doesn’t have a wash routine, so they’re always frizzier than Dick’s, but you’ve never minded. He’s devastatingly handsome either way. At least like this he looks a little bit less like something come to life straight out of your fantasies. He’s just a little more real.

Jason hums sleepily and pushes his head into your hands, a bit like a cat nuzzling at you. It’s been a lazy day for you both. You’ve been in the same position on the couch for hours—you on your back, half-watching the show, half-dozing, and him on his stomach in the cradle of your legs, head pillowed on your stomach, not even pretending to watch the show, judging by his closed eyes.

Your stomach cramps again, and this time you feel it—the ache even lower, and a wet heat blooming between your thighs. “Oh, fuck me.”

Jason takes a minute to respond, still interested in your fingers that make his entire body tingle when you massage in just the right way. Then he cranes his neck up, brow furrowed and bottom lip jutting out with his confused frown. “Okay?” He starts to sit up, hands reaching for the hem of your shirt, but you draw your legs up and out from under him and roll off the couch.

“No, not literally,” you say through gritted teeth. “Fuck—did I stain the cushion?” It was no big loss—you’d found the couch on the side of the road and Jason helped you bring it up to your apartment and sanitize it—but a bloodstain would stand out on the light brown color.

“Oh,” he says with realization as you run to the bathroom and slam the door behind you. “The couch is good!” he calls.

Your pants aren’t. It looks like someone died between your legs. You’ve always had heavy periods, especially the first couple days, accompanied by strong cramps. If you get ahead of them and take pain meds, they’re not too bad. Sometimes you can even patrol. But playing catch-up with ibuprofen is a recipe for disaster.

The rest of the day is going to suck.

Because you always feel gross when you’re on your period, and because no amount of wipes would fully clean up the mess between your legs, you hop into the shower and turn up the heat until your skin is bright pink. Jason pops in for a second to drop off a change of underpants and sweats, then ducks out just as quickly.

Turning off the water starts the race against time. As quickly as you can, you apply your preferred hygiene product before any more blood can leak down your leg. Then you towel off and shrug on the new clothes. You still feel icky, but the new clothes and shower helped slightly.

Something sizzles in the kitchen when you open the bathroom door.

“Hey, honey,” says Jason without turning around, standing in front of the stove. He points at the table. “Meds and water are right there. How are you feeling?”

“Ugh,” is your response. You down the pills and almost set the glass back on the table, but at his insistent look, finish it off. Hydration helps with cramps as well.

“You’re two days early.”

“Well, I haven’t been patrolling. Exercise changes can throw my cycle out of whack.” You sniff. “What are you making? It smells good.”

“Chicken stir fry.” You peek into the pan and see broccoli, bell peppers, and a couple other vegetables frying with the chicken. The covered pan behind it, you know without looking, contains rice. “I also have ginger tea brewing.”

All of it, every part of the meal, is meant to help reduce your symptoms and pain.

You can’t help it. How is he always so thoughtful? You throw your arms around Jason’s middle and squeeze. So he can keep stirring the food, he shifts until you’re tucked beneath one arm. His hair is in complete disarray from your fingers like he just walked through a tornado. When he notices your gaze, red colors his cheeks and he flattens his hair down self-consciously.

You press a kiss to his shoulder, the highest place you can reach without stretching.

“Go sit down,” he pretends to scold.

In response, you lean into him, heavier and heavier, until he’s practically carrying you. Jason doesn’t even blink at the added weight.

“I plugged in your heating pad,” he says. “It’s right by the couch.” Another thing right next to the couch is a coffee table he stole from the manor when he was pissed at Bruce. On top of it is a bar of dark chocolate and a freshly-washed bowl of your favorite berries.

You kiss his shoulder again. Jason kisses the top of your head, then nudges you away with his chin. “Go. Sit down. Rest your ankle and your uterus.”

“That is not how it works,” you say, mirth in your voice.

“It’s how I think it works,” he mumbles.

When the food is done, he brings two bowls over. You lift your legs and he slips underneath them. He uses your shins on his thighs as a makeshift table, balancing the bowl between them, and absentmindedly rubs your weaker ankle with the hand not holding his spoon.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence as The Great British Bake-Off plays. You finish first, and as soon as he sets his bowl down, you sit up slightly and make grabby hands at him. “C’mere.”

Jason pretends to roll his eyes, but judging by the line of kisses he trails from your wrist to the inside of your elbow as he lies down, he doesn’t mind your bossiness too much.

You shiver at every brush of his lips against the sensitive skin of your forearm. It’s almost enough to distract you from the cramping that’s beginning in your abdomen again—a cramping that eases slightly when he’s atop you again, resting the gentle pressure of his weight on your stomach. Warm, fed, and with his weight on you, is it any wonder you fall asleep?

You’re only woken by Jason’s gentle hand shaking you, telling you that it’s been eight hours since you last applied your feminine hygiene product and you need to change it. You’re tired and sore and cranky, but as soon as you blink your eyes open he has pain medication and water for you to take.

You do so in the bathroom in a daze and tumble into your shared bed, tugging Jason in with you. He goes down easily, using his huge, warm form to surround you with his easy, comforting scent. You left the heating pad on the couch, but the thick arm Jason winds around your stomach does the job well enough, and you drift back to sleep quickly, never fully awake in the first place.

The next morning, you wake to an aching back and stained sheets.

You stare up at the ceiling and swear, which unfortunately wakes Jason, who lifts his head and stares at you, one eye still crusted with sleep. His curls are in wild disarray, one side flattened from the pillow and the other on end as if he’s been spending his spare time sticking forks in electrical sockets.

If the cramps have gotten to your spine already, then the next few days are going to be hell. And this was a nice pair of sheets! The blood had better wash out.

Jason grunts and lowers his head. “Everything we own is bloodstained, honey. Though usually it’s mine.”

You leave him in bed. Your hair feels way too greasy, and your skin feels tacky, and even after a half-hour shower, you still don’t feel great.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom, Jason is there with chocolate-chip pancakes he made himself, accompanied by a fresh bowl of fruit and more meds.

Emotion rises in your throat. You want to tell him so much, like that you love him even though you haven’t said it, or that you can’t fathom going through your period on your own anymore, but all that comes out is, “You’re perfect. You know that? You really don’t have to do all this—or stay home from patrol for me.”

Jason tousles his messy curls and shrugs. “Well, I’m gonna anyway. You need me, and I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

DC Taglist

@evalynanne @mismatchsposts @cliosunshine @fictionalwhor3 @bellathecatastrophe @lonely-star2044 @flanhog @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t

Let me know if there's anything you want to see from me!

#reader insert #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fic #jason todd x you #dc insert

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borbygorlinbbqworld · 10 months ago

Text

A weird dairy allergy.

That's what you had been told it was, ever since you were a kid. But after you had moved out from your parents' protective care, you found out the truth.

Even so, when you checked into the restaurant, you still told them to mind what was given to you. Disinterested, and barely glancing at your modest double D cups, the host raised an eyebrow.

"You mean a lactose intolerance?" he asked.

You shook your head. "No."

"Anaphylaxis?"

You only wish it were. "No, not exactly..."

"Whatever." With a roll of his eyes, he started walking toward a table. "Follow me."

You sat where he directed. Glancing at the menu, you waited for your date to arrive.

Tinder was often as cesspool of terrible choices--for both men and women--but you'd really gotten lucky finding this guy on there.

Aside from being extremely attractive (though that never really hurt, did it?), he was in his second year of residency at a children's hospital. With the looks, brains, and money all that would have entailed, he still managed to be humble, and quite charming.

He even seemed really understanding about your dairy allergy when you had told him about it during one of your late night chats.

'Wow, you must feel so uncomfortable!' he had said, genuinely sounding apologetic.

Uncomfortable had been the gentle way of putting it.

After a few minutes of waiting, your date finally appeared. He chatted with the host for a few moments, pointing at the table you were sitting at. Their conversation seemed a little longer than usual, but when he finally arrived at your table, he explained.

"Just wanted to make sure he was aware of your allergy." He flashed a brilliant smile that made your heart melt. "But we're doing a tasting. A few small servings of everything in the restaurant!"

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

But after eating a few bites of one of the appetizers, you start to feel a familiar tightness on your chest. Your boobs didn't seem overly larger, so you thought it must have been imagined.

After a few more bites though, the tightness doesn't let up. Your bra starts to creek. With another furtive glance downward, you can see you were right.

There's a crease where the bra was trying to contain the breasts and where they were starting to spill out.

"Was there dairy in this?" you ask.

Your date shook his head. "Shouldn't be. Why?"

Why? Maybe you were being too critical of yourself; if he couldn't tell they had gone up half a cup size, maybe it wasn't worth mentioning.

So the next appetizer was brought out. It was savoury, melt in your mouth...

..and made your breasts swell another size. It was very clear now that whatever you had eaten had to have had at least some dairy in it. Your bra now fit like a tiny bikini, your hard nipples rubbing against its edge teasingly as you spilled out the front of your low cut dress.

"There's definitely dairy in this food," you tell your date urgently. "I'm reacting."

He tilted his head to the side, looking at your chest. "Maybe a little bit, but nothing too uncomfortable I wouldn't say."

It certainly didn't feel that way, but maybe he was right. Maybe you were too worried about the stares you'd get.

So you continued to eat.

After the next course, you realized he had to be playing polite. Your mammaries swelled, tightening the top of your dress until there was no more give. Not only were you spilling out the front, but out the sides now too. The straps that had once been full coverage now strained with the weight of your expanding bust. You weren't sure when it had happened, but your bra had torn; it was too much for it to handle.

You jumped to your feet suddenly, your breasts bouncing back and forth as your nipples poked through the fabric of your dress. Stomping over to the host station, you tried to ignore just how good it felt when your breasts were sloshing around from the movement.

"Excuse me!" You waved your hand to get his attention, sniffling a groan as you felt your chest get even tighter.

The host looked up with a bored expression on his face until he spotted just what his food had done to your body.

"U-U-Uhh..."

The man could barely choke out a word, and he definitely couldn't help but stare. It burned a heat between your legs.

"Was there any dairy in the food?" you asked desperately.

He took a solid few minutes to answer, and only did so after adjusting a chub in his pants.

"A-A little bit," he confessed. "I didn't think it would... would..." He trailed off, keeping his stare on your breasts. Clearing his throat he finally looked away. "Your boyfriend over there asked that I put some in."

That little asshole...

You stormed back over to him, a little miffed at the fact that you enjoyed how he watched every sway.

Before you could say anything, he apologized. "I'm so sorry. I guess I didn't believe that it was true, which was wrong--but I had to see for myself."

"Well, have you seen enough?" You gestured to your swelling chest.

"I'm sorry! But how, uhh... " He swallowed, as if biting back more lewd words than what he went with. "How big can they get?"

You did your best to cross your arms indignantly, but the feeling of your arm brushing against your hard nipple made you squeak.

"I dunno, I've never been this big before."

Or this sensitive...

Your breasts felt so heavy, so incredibly full, yet every little bump or sway filled you with pleasure.

He nodded, keeping his eyes on them. "I felt guilty for kind of... trapping you into this, I guess. So I booked out the restaurant entirely, if that's any consolation..."

A quick look around proved there really weren't any other guests in the restaurant. It was a small token of sweetness.

The guy really couldn't stop staring at your breasts, and for the first time, you didn't want him to stop.

"Well, I guess if there's no one else here..." You wave your hand to grab the attention of the waiter. "Let's see how big I get."

His pupils dilated for a moment. "Yeah?"

The waiter arrived.

"A glass of milk please."

He paused, looking between you , your breasts, back to you, then your date. "B-But--"

"Whole milk, if you have it."

He didn't take very long filling your request. You raised the glass of milk up in toast, waiting for your date to meet it with his own.

You gulped down the milk, each swallow loud. Before that moment, any dairy you had had been in tiny, small amounts.

Right away, you felt the familiar tightening in your chest. The sound of ripping fabric told you your dress hadn't made it. As soon as the fabric gave way, your breasts burst forth like water breaking through a dam. They swayed from the sudden freedom, leaving you with that arousing sloshing sensation again...

They had never felt so full before! But full of what, exactly?

It wasn't long before your expanding mammaries forced your nipples against the edge of the table.

You let out a whimper.

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"

So full, so full... How did your swelling masses make you feel so uncomfortable, yet so... aroused?

Whether it was to genuinely help, or so he could get a better look, your date move the table, giving you more room.

Finally, the tightness died down, and the swelling stopped. Your breasts filled up your lap, blocking your stomach completely as the heavy mounds rested on the tops of your thighs. Your puffy nipples stuck out, just aching.

In fact, your breasts in general were in need of something.

You look back to your date, wondering if the growth had been too much. But to your pleasant surprise, he was drooling over them. The thought of his saliva dripping off your engorged teets... were your panties always this wet?

He reached a hand out to touch. His fingertips gently grazed the skin near your nipple, and your breasts throbbed with need.

He took them both in his hands, gently kneading them in his fingers. But every movement hit against a gland, making you let out a soft moan.

Two pearl-like beads appeared at the tips of your nipples.

"Is that...?"

You really did feel full...

He squeezed your breasts gently, no doubt testing his suspicions.

Two streams of milk burst forth from your mammaries, spattering across the floor, the table, and his face as you let out a cry of pleasure.

Before you could even let out the demand that was on your lips, you felt your date's hot mouth on your breast. He sucked gently at first, then a hard suck that flooded his mouth with so much milk, it started dribbling down his chin.

He kept going though, suckling on the one breast while pulling the other nipple in an all too familiar fashion. He directed the spray into his empty cup of water, all while latched and guzzling from the other breast. You could hear each hungry gulp from him, which only made your panties even wetter. I rubbed my pelvis back and forth against the fabric.

He let go with his mouth momentarily, his gaze a little unfocused, like he was milk drunk. "Can't even imagine... what it's going to be like when I get you pregnant..."

And with a loud moan of pleasure from you, he latched on to the other breast, feasting greedily on your massive mommy milkers.

The feeling was pure ecstasy...

---

🐮

#breast expansion #tw lactation kink #lactation kink tw #massive breasts #huge natural melons #huge cleavage #smut #engorged

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incorrect-hs-quotes · 1 year ago

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tumblrstuck

tipsyGnostalgic: i want 2 turn that mans prostate into silly putty

uranianUmbra: here's something i doodled dUring science class, lol!

centaursTesticle: D --> Please remember that you personally can drink milk and still be a lactose intolerance ally. Anyone who tells you otherwise doesn't know their history

twinArmageddons: fuckiing a robot giirl iin the a22 call that backend programmiing

gutsyGumshoe: Holy shit, I need him so fucking bad holy shit holyyy shit. Oh my god.

timaeusTestified: Anyone get kind of horny putting the ignition key in the car. It's so intimate. Turning him on...

carcinoGeneticist: SO LET'S TALK ABOUT WHERE SCRIMBLO'S ARC IS REALISTICALLY GOING. I KNOW A LOT OF PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO ARGUE THAT HE'S BEING MANIPULATED, BUT THIS IGNORES THE FACT THAT THERE IS CLEARLY UNRESOLVED CONFLICT BETWEEN HIM AND BLEEBUS ABOUT THEIR MORALITIES.

turntechGodhead: happy propeller penis thursday

arachnidsGrip: "Scrim8lo and 8lee8us need to discuss their morality!" God for8id a path8tic 8oywife does some torture! 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

arsenicCatnip: :33 < WHO IS HYPED FUR THE MEW ALBUM LETS FUCKING GO

apocalypseArisen: guys were n0t getting a new album 0_0

adiosToreador: pLEASE STOP SENDING ME DEATH THREATS,

ectoBiologist: why is my whole dash talking about this band i don't even listen to...

gallowsCalibrator: H3Y BOY N1C3 KN1F3 WOUND C4N 1 PUT MY TONGU3 1N 1T

grimAuxiliatrix: I Am Going To Fall Into Lake Michigan

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ddejavvu · 1 year ago

Note

hotch and lactose intolerant reader because I've ruined myself again and created a stomach hurty !!I know my mans is sick of them ignoring it and choosing to eat all products containing lactose lmaoo

Aaron is disappointed, but not surprised, when he comes home to find you curled up on the couch with a sheen of sweat over your face.

"Honey," He hums, pity in his eyes but conviction in his tone, "Did you have ice cream again?"

"Jack wanted some," You grumble, eyeing the half-empty bowl of what's now chocolate soup on the ottoman in front of you, "Don't start with me, Aaron."

"I'm not," He promises, but he totally is, "Sweetheart, Jack won't be offended if you don't eat ice cream with him. He'd be happy with you eating broccoli as long as he had ice cream."

"I know," You whine, staring up at him from where you're doubled over on the couch, 'But Aaron, he makes it look so good. He always wants chocolate syrup and rainbow sprinkles, and I'm not that strong, okay? I'm only human."

"You're human with a very picky stomach," Aaron leans down to peck at your lips, keeping it chaste enough for just a quick smooch in case the smell of the greasy fast food he'd wolfed down for a late lunch turns your stomach any more than it already is.

"That's not my fault," You lament, "My heart wants ice cream, but my stomach wants death."

"Don't listen to either of them," Aaron chuckles, kissing your forehead this time, "Listen to your brain, and don't eat ice cream next time. I'll bring home cookies tomorrow, okay? The thick ones with the frosting from the grocery store."

"Aaron, I love you," You vow, turning away when you catch a whiff of his suit jacket and it's all french fries and ketchup, "But I'm gonna hurl."

Aaron takes the not-so-subtle hint and backs away, setting his briefcase on the chair and setting a reminder on his phone to buy you cookies. He sheds his suit jacket and makes a mental note to send it to the dry cleaners ASAP, taking off his shoes and leaving them by the door.

"I'm going to get the tums," He informs you, and you peek open a droopy eye to watch him, "Do not finish that bowl while I'm gone."

"No promises," You call, but the anguish in your voice lets him know you're only teasing, "You'd better make it worth it when you get back, Hotchner. If I can't have ice cream I want something else sweet."

"You can have a tums," He narrows his eyes sternly at you while shaking two of the fruit-flavored tablets into his palm, though you know he's far from angry at you. "Kissing is reserved for nights where you're not about to vomit."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

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sanest-bsd-delegate · 1 year ago

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General Headcanons with DOA Boys

Headcanon: General headcanons of stuff I think they will do Pairing: Fyodor x reader, Nikolai x reader and Sigma x reader Genre: Fluff, lowkey crack A/N: Thank you dc person for that one fyodor headcanon. →Masterlist

Nikolai

He probably likes to eat mud for fun and force everyone to eat it

You both secretly sneekout of the hideout and visit beaches at night, having deep conversation which would end up with him filling your shorts with sand

he likes to place insects and rats in your closet stating it is a harmless prank. Not even Sigma is excused from his pranks

Nikolai irrespective of being a prankster would gift you with ice-creams and bakery goods [to lactose intolerant ppl, he gives u popsicles]

that was until he decided to prank you once day and put hair in your food

Never fell into his 'get in hole' game. You got stuck in it for 40 days without food and water. No kidding.

The mysterious hole is filled with nothing but junk.😭😭 very questionable junk

You both love to prank others though.

"Let's plant the bomb under Sigma's bathtub" "Extra points make it filled with pink glitter"

Sigma was covered in pink glitter for thirteen days.

But! Personally Nikolai would be one of the best cuddlers in the manga/anime

The first time he wore normal clothes instead of his usual multi layered buisness clothing, you were in tears. How could someone pull such simple clothes so fashionably?

You like to braid his hair. Even if you suck at it, he would wear your braiding loud and proud.

"Ahh quiztime! Who braided my hair?" "Sir this is-" "Wrong answer," boom "it's my love YN who braided it, you are no fun"

And that's how the city's McDonald's got blowed up.

overall he is a good insane boyfriend, so 10/10 cause I love him 😋

Fyodor

This man

I swear he is fine asf but would probably learn all the instruments you like so he can play it to you when you are kidnapped by Dazai most prob.

he is a Lil more insane then Nikolai so he would probably boom North Korea cause he was bored. [NK people i am jk-]

"what did you have for breakfast" "I don't know" "wrong answer" And the next moment you know, South of Yokohama got blowed up

He is the most broken richest man you ever met.

he can't buy clothes for himself or even upgrade the doa office but will gift you a wholeass country as a Birthday return gift.

you force him to wear dresses and paint his nails, 😭 but my man is so down bad that he is sub in this relationship.

"Sir we have bombed the tunne-" "Good verywell" "🧍🕯️" 😭 nah cause they are hella scared when he wears makeup.

He would probably take you to fireworks only for you to realise he is bombing the area again.

"fyodor, we talked about this" "No" and he proceeds to boom everything

he isn't much of a hugger and probably tries to runaway when you try to even touch him, but mf would suffocate you in his sleep with his hug

He probably had tried giving those evil laughs, but the moment he did that, he choked on air.

Me and a person on my server were having a convo and they said "He probably bites his nails to much and they are really short"

he owns a pet rat but denys it

honestly, he is a 10 but he is a terrorist who likes to bomb everything up. But he is your boyfriend and he is hot.

Sigma

-Are you the man of the relationship or he is?

he is more of a 'please don't kill anyone sweetheart' rather then supporting your actions and being a 'lets commit arson dear YN'

Mf is rich asf. He would deny it ofcourse and then proceed to shower you with silk clothes, Gucci , prada comfy…..such a sugar daddy

😭😭hear me out, he is a ball full of sunshine and anxiety but he wouldnt hesitate to kill anyone who does wrong to you or his casino.

-"Sigma am I your first priority?" "Yes-?" "Is the casino your first priority?" "Yes-?" "Me or the casino?" "Yes"

He probably cries everytime you ignore him.

HE REMEMBERS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU.

once Nikolai kidnapped you for fun and man did Nikolai end up being half bald.

Sigma wants you to stay away from fyodor, because the last thing he knows is that he want to give fyodor a bombing partner.

Atp he doesnt want you to interact any of the DOA members, because little did he know, you will grow more insane with them.

I like to imagine you knowing Dazai and mentioning it to Sigma on occasions, and oh boy Sigma wanted to kill the man when he first met not because you talked a lot about him, but he would probably be the reason why you pull questionable strunt

10/10 Mama Sigma

He also doesnt allow you to run away freely in his casino, for all he knows is that you will cheat and win all the games.

He is so restrictive

You both probably or possibly may have this convo:

"BUT FYODOR GIFTED HIS S/O A WHOLE ASS COUNTRY, WHY CANT I GET THAT PLUSHIE??" "You cant cheat everytime to get the plushies" "BUT-" "Fyodor is a terrorist, we are not like them" "LEAST HE GIFTED HIS S/O-"

Your arguments probably never make sense to others, but its for you and Sigma to know.

Also he gave up on scolding you every time you try to eat casino coins.

He is such a 'I am trying to keep my S/O mentally sane' boyfriend, even if he needs to go to therapy. 8/10 bf material

Guys get a Sigma. Sigmas never disappoint.

A/N: Btw the discord server if you wanna join is here.

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angstflayer-council · 1 year ago

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July Drabble #4- Girl Talk

“I like Nancy.”

Her voice cracked and she curled in on herself, afraid of the response that would eventually come. She didn’t know what she would do if Steve hated her for something she had tried to ignore for so long. Robin knew it was wrong to have a crush on her best friend’s ex and she knew there was a chance that Steve could react negatively, but she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer.

She told Steve everything. She needed to tell him this.

His silence scared her. They hadn’t turned the lights on when they climbed into the bed so she couldn’t see his face; couldn’t see his reaction. 

Robin reached out with a shaky hand and breathed a sigh of relief when Steve entwined their fingers together, their socked feet were already touching as they lay facing each other in Robin’s bed. “Are you mad at me?” The question broke the silence in the room and caused Steve to squeeze her hand in reassurance. 

“I’m not mad, Robs.” He sighed softly and held her hand against his heart. “I’m worried you’ll get hurt. I don’t know if Nancy is... ya’know.” He trailed off and if the light was on, Robin would be able to see the sad smile that no doubt pulled at his lips.

“And for that exact reason I tried not to like her, Steve, I really did. She’s just so - “ Beautiful, smart, caring, brave. 

“Perfect.” Steve said with a soft laugh. 

Robin sighed and rolled onto her back; Steve kept her hand held tight in his own. “Perfect.” The word was both right and wrong. Robin felt she needed a whole new alphabet to find the right words to describe Nancy.

“Are you going to tell her?” 

“Tell her that I like her? God, no. That’s between us and whatever god is listening.” Robin's not stupid. She knew she was never going to be anything more than Nancy’s friend, she’s cried and journaled about it already. It’s completely fine with her. Sort of. Not really. 

Steve moved closer, his big head now squished onto the same pillow as her. He waited a beat before saying softly, “No, are you going to tell her you’re a lesbian?”

Steve’s words settled on top of Robin like a weighted blanket that’s just slightly too heavy. She knew that in order to confess to Nancy she'd have to come out to her but the thought made Robin’s stomach flip and flop like a fish out of water.

“Do I have to?” She was scared, terrified actually.

“No, but maybe telling her could help. Maybe Nancy broke up with me because she's secretly a lesbian.” Robin could hear the smile in his voice. He had a point but it was still so nerve wracking.

What if it went badly? What if the one person Robin really wanted to know the truth didn’t accept her?

Robin let out a sad noise, somewhere between a groan and a sob, and Steve, sensing her distress, pulled the covers over their heads so that they were shielded from the world. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Robs. There’s no rush. You’ll get there one day and when that day comes, I’ll be by your side.” 

“Oh my god, that was so cheesy.”

“You love my cheese.” 

Robin snorted and shoved him lightly. “No, I don’t. I’m lactose intolerant.”

#steve harrington #robin buckley #Nancy wheeler #ronance #platonic stobin #stranger things #platonic soulmates stobin #stobin friendship #July drabble game

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softspace-fics · 5 months ago

Note

I have a rant and it's stupid but it's a rant

I do not like milk I have NEVER liked milk and in my brain milk is ONLY allowed on cereal and with cookies (also I'm probably lactose intolerant or something because the bathroom trips are NOT worth it)

Now with all that being said I understand littles wanting that nostalgic feeling when drinking milk or you might like it in general idk whatever the reason you do you

But I need to read a fic with a sleepy little and one of the Marvel men carrying they around the kitchen while setting up the tea kettle, then walking over to a cabin with decades worth of a tea collection (calling myself out rn I have tea from before I was born passed to me from my grandma it's still good) but after preparing the bottle with beautifully brewed tea they sit with they're little feeding them till they pass out

Anyway thank you for coming to my rant/Ted talk you can 100% ignore this I hope you have a good day

Cabin time!

Steve rogers x Bucky barnes x Little!gn reader

Masterlist - All my work!

A/N - I really hope you like this! I was so excited to write this because I absolutely relate to you, I hate milk, I write it in a lot of my stories because I know a lot of littles love milk, but I absolutely agree that it's just not worth the bathroom trips at all-. But this story is one of my favorites that I have written so far. I hope you like it!! (P.s I was so tempted to write this as Strange x Tony but I feel like Steve and Bucky would have centuries of tea that they collect)

Warnings: None! Pure fluff.

____________

You buzzed with excitement as you watched the trees past you. The smell of the rainforest surrounding you in the car as your two favorite caregivers sit in the front seats, a lofi playlist playing softly through the speakers.

You clutch your favorite stuffie in your hand, your paci safely in your mouth, giggles filling your throat, alerting your papa that you were awake.

“Morning sunshine, were about 10 minutes out.” Steve glanced back at you from the rear-view window, smiling as he sees your relaxed but excited state.

You mumble something incoherent behind your pacifier as a response which makes both of your caregivers chuckle. Bucky turns slightly in his seat to face you in the back seat watching the sparkle in your eyes that grows every second from seeing the trees that you all love so much.

You, Steve, and Bucky all like to go up to your cabin every November where its a little colder and stay there for about 2 weeks, away from anything and everything that could take them away from you. They make sure that they leave their jobs back at home when they're with you in the cabin, being your caregivers and loving you dearly.

When you guys arrive at the Cabin, your Dada climbs out of the passenger seat and helps you out of the backseat, carrying you with his metal arm as he helps Steve carry some bags with his other.

He walks up to the cabin with you clutching his shirt and you happily laying on his shoulder, comforted by his touch and his smell. He kisses your head as your papa opens the door. ITs later in the day, the sun begins to set behind the trees and the night creatures begin to wake. This means that the boys want to get you in and settle in time to hopefully get you down for bed at a reasonable time.

Your dada sets down the bags he carried in before heading to drop you into your play pen that looked like you left it when you left last november. Your precious toys need a serious catch up of blabbled and stories, so your dada sets you in there so him and your papa could unload the car.

You pick up the bunny sitting near you and begin to play, telling your old friends about your best friends Peter and Stephen, how you guys would cause your caregivers a hard time all for the giggles and laughs. Getting up to no good is fun with your best friends.

The two finish bringing in the items from the car before steve comes over and scoops you up with your bunny and turtle friend, kissing your nose and crading you in his chest.

You look up at him with droopy eyes, the nap in the car not sufficing for keeping you awake to far past bedtime. You drop one of the stuffied to ball steves shirt in your hand before burying your face in his chest, the comfort of your papa settling in.

“Does my sleepy baby want some tea?” Steve softly whispers as he begins to walk to the cabins kitchen. You nod into his chest, your favorite drink sounds wonderful right now.

You had always struggled with the taste texture and how milk made you feel, so you loved tea, any time you could, big or little you were drinking tea. When you were little it was your favorite thing to have before you go to bed, some nice herbal tea while being held by the people you felt the safest with.

Steve carries you around the kitchen, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove while keeping you securely in his arms. He leaves little kisses on your head as he grabs your favorite tea out of the cabinet, and grabbing a bottle that can safely hold the warm drink.

Once the kettle gets warm enough that the waters just almost boiling, he pulls it off the heat and carefully puts together your tea. Making sure to keep anything hot away from you until the bottles made and ready for you to drink.

You both walk out of the kitchen to bucky on the couch in comfortable clothes and some blankets surrounding him, he has your favorite movie to watch when you get to the cabin set up and hes so ready for some cuddles.

Steve sits down next to bucky with you in his arms, he puts the bottle of tea to your lips as bucky softly pulls your legs onto his lap, rubbing gentle small circles on your calf as he presses play on the movie.

Life was perfect.

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datawyrms · 24 days ago

Text

12 Steps to Stop Beefing With a Teenager

Hey @katphantom69 ! Happy Truce. Hopefully you enjoy Vlad uh. Trying very hard to turn over some new leaves with some other ghostly friends :v It's all on AO3 HERE or we've got it all under the read more c:

“When you promised me an alliance that would change the status quo, I expected better than this .” Even if the ghost lacked a complete face, the gauntlet jabbing at the delicate cheese platter filled in the gaps. “This is your idea of great change and terror?”

“Eh. You might scare one of those lactose intolerant humans.” Skulker gave a smirk as the knight seemed to grow even more infuriated, flames bursting from his helmet.

“No! Do you know how many of those flock to cheese?! It is as if they think it is a dare!”

“It is for snacking.” Vlad let out a long sigh, trying to ignore the ache already starting to settle behind his eyes. “Nor are we talking about terror today.”

“Then this is a tedious waste of my time!”

“Oh, because you do so much! Slumbering in a pumpkin all year, while I, TECHNUS-”

“Skulker, I paid you to find people interested in attending. Not literally any ghost you could find!”

“They were all very interested in no longer getting shot at in return for attending. I don’t see the problem.” Skulker’s smirk only grew as the half ghost’s fingers started digging into his hair.

This whole ‘trying to be a better person’ thing was not worth it. It would be so much easier to just shoot that smirk off that metal face- or better yet remove his entire head. Really, he probably would just do that if he didn’t have the sneaking suspicion there was some sort of bet going on to who could irritate him the most!

So he had to settle for taking another deep breath. “We’re here to talk about constructive ways to fulfill a purpose. Ways that won’t get you tossed back in the Ghost Zone by an irritated teenager.”

“Well, if I could just skin the teenager we’d solve both problems-”

“Skulker, if you keep this up, I’ll have him send you back without your suit!” Vlad can’t quite keep the pink energy from gathering around his hands, but forces it to disperse.

“Why do you even care? You’re the one who suited up another teenager to kill him! Who of course, ABANDONED your WORTHLESS tech once she had a taste of REAL POWER designed by-”

The half ghost had to cut in before Technus really got his ramble on. “Why did you let her keep that, anyway?”

Technus’ rant stopped in its tracks, the scientist somehow at a loss. “Well. I was somewhat distracted with taking over the world-”

“Which failed.”

“WHICH WAS PUT ON THE BACKBURNER- and well uh. I couldn’t get control back from the suit? My genius was so great it outsmarted even ME-”

“Another stupid accident then. Wonderful.” Vlad muttered. As if it would be anything else. Half of his life seemed like an absurd accident. “How about instead of taking over the world, you could just go to a library? They have computers now.”

“Do they?” Technus actually seemed to be considering it for a moment, before shaking his head “It might not be as much fun as causing WORLD WIDE TECHNICAL TERROR though?”

“Where did you even get the idea it would be fun?”

“Says the evil overshadowing billionaire.” Skulker chimed in, earning another glare.

“Oh that’s easy! It was the ghost child’s idea! He’s very clever sometimes!”

He was going to scream. Of course it was Daniel’s fault! Why wouldn’t it be! He probably just spouted off something stupid his parents said and oops, now the inventor ghost has a world takeover hobby! Great! Thank you so much for this extra hassle!

“I am not changing anything.” Fright Knight’s ‘helpful’ contribution at least got Vlad out of his own head for a moment.

“What, you can’t get people afraid without the threat of death?”

That just got the Fright Knight on his feet and brandishing the Soul Shredder, instead of anything useful. “Are you insinuating my fear is lackluster?”

“No, he’s calling you lazy!” Skulker started cackling as the knight rounded on him, pumpkin already in hand. “Careful where you stab that thing!”

“Squash wielding simpleton…”

“Better this than the plastic mess I dug you out of though, yeah?”

The Fright Knight refused to respond, which was probably the closest thing to agreement anyone was going to get. Did that count as progress? No, not really.

“Did anyone here come to actually try to figure something out, or should we just call it here?” Vlad couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice, almost eager to call it a waste of time and move on to something else.

“Hey! What about YOU?! You’re a ghost that causes problems too, home slice!”

Oh for the love of fondue. “I am managing perfectly well-”

“Which is why you totally paid me to set up more cameras last week.”

“That I PROGRAMED so the ghost child’s little friend could not DETECT THEM-”

“A very normal and ‘not causing problems’ thing to do.” Skulker finished with the technological tag team, kicking his feet up onto the table as if to maximize the insult.

“Hah! You seem like a much larger problem than any of us.” The Fright Knight seemed in much better spirits with someone else being criticized. “Perhaps instead of this farce of a meeting you could find a therapist.”

Vlad could only scowl more “As if I could find one willing to work with me!”

The knight’s face may not be very visible, but the half ghost could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Surely not! There are plenty of ghosts who care about health. You would have had to do something abominably stupid to scare all of them off.”

“OH OH, like WHAT?”

“Perhaps something like, ah, stealing an immensely powerful artifact? Multiple, even?”

“Or letting out the ghost king! Who’d do something so foolish and get NOTHING out of it?”

His life is a goddamned comedy routine. Interrupting might make the two keep going longer though- so he just tries to wait until they get bored.

“Or better yet, repeatedly attacking who the leading medical experts consider a saviour! In front of them, no less!” Fright Knight was failing to keep his composure now, a cackle escaping at the sheer absurdity.

“WHY, doing even ONE of those things would be hard!”

“Imagine a ghost foolish enough to do all of them!”

This whole thing was a set up, wasn’t it? He didn’t even know which one to strangle first. “Are you quite finished?”

“MAYBE!”

“It’s only fair we get to criticize you back. We don’t go around living over here full time like you half breeds.”

“I get plenty of that without your help.” Vlad might have added more, but stopped as the door swung open to show an irritated black haired teenager. “You’re late.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “No I’m not.”

“I didn’t think the ghost child was coming! HELLO!” Technus’ loud greeting earned him a grimace.

“I’m not a child. And I’m not here for your stupid meeting.” The boy crossed his arms, keeping a fair distance away from the other ghosts. “Did you even explain me to your little tea party?”

“No. Considering you didn’t show up, I figured it could wait.” Which was perfectly reasonable! Did he want to try to explain a doomed timeline ghost that was hanging out in a cloned body? No. It was complicated enough before even touching the whole ‘oh that ghost is two half ghosts in an angst blender’ thing.

“Figures.”

Skulker stared for quite awhile before frowning at Vlad. “Okay, this was mostly a joke- but you aren’t seriously trying to replace the whelp again?” The other gathered ghosts looked amongst themselves and Vlad, a mixture of concern and anger.

“No! He’s a time anomaly thing, not a clone exactly.” Even if he was using a clone body. Which ideally the hunter wouldn’t try to pry too much into. “I’m not doing any other clone things.”

“That’s right, you aren’t.” Phantom said, blue eyes flashing red for a moment. “Instead of doing this dumb meeting, I did something actually helpful! You’re welcome.”

Oh, that was very ominous. “What do you mean by-”

The explosion that rocked the room rather cut off any attempt to finish his sentence.

“Just removed some temptation for you, old man.”

He might be trying to be a better person. Sometimes, you just had to shift into your ghost form and fling yourself at the smug little menace that blew up a very valuable research lab. Especially when the target in question clearly wanted the fight!

Skulker, the Fright Knight and Technus could only watch the two half feral ghosts tumble out through a wall.

“Do you think he’d notice if we went and stole stuff from the wreckage?” The hunter broke the stunned silence first

“Probably not!”

“That portal better still work, I want no part of whatever that is.” The Fright Knight was already moving to leave the room and the entire farce of a meeting behind.

“BORINGGGG!”

“More for us, remember?” Skulker elbowed Technus before any extra goading could occur.

“Oh! Yes! FEEL FREE TO LEAVE!”

What was the harm in leaving a little extra mess for Plasmius anyway?

#danny phantom #holiday truce #vlad masters #this is mostly a silly little fic but i think it's fun?#oh and uh. Post AGIT so kinda spoilerssss?

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curlsincriminology · 1 year ago

Text

Crush on You - Steve Harrington x Reader

A/N: Hi yeah, can you tell this was written by someone with ADHD on a plane in 30 minutes? Sure! But it's the first thing I think I've published in 5 years so you're gonna have to just deal with it! Not beta'd because again, first piece in 5 years. Also if you are lactose-intolerant be careful, this shit is CHEESY!!

@boyfriendstevie

Steve was going to maim Robin.

He swore to God right then and there, looking at you with that cute little teasing twinkle in your eye as you said, "so you've got a crush on me, huh?" that he was going to find a way to permanently silence her.

Robin had to be behind this. It had taken all of 12 hours - from him spilling his guts about his debilitating infatuation as he drove her home from work, to you sauntering through the Family Video doors - to get to this moment.

His face felt hot... was he dying? Could he actually be dying? The sound of his heart pounding in his ears made him think he might still have a few more minutes of agony to go before his body mercifully took pity on him and just... y'know. Ended it.

You, on the other hand, were thriving. You were positively giddy, unsure when the last time you had felt solid ground under your feet; you had floated on a cloud (you were sure of it) over to Family Video.

Honestly, it wasn't Robin's fault.

No one in their right mind would tell her something that they didn't want you to find out. Robin had been spilling Hawkins' secrets to you since your family had moved to town.

At first, it was protective - a welcoming to the neighbourhood that helped you to know what cliques to avoid and who was sort of cool. Then it was friendly, to make you feel more at ease that you actually weren't coming off like the idiot you thought you might be.

Now? Now it was downright… messy? Fun? No, definitely mischievous.

Why else would she have rolled up on her bike to your part-time spot, parked behind the desk at the Hawkins Public Library, with that shit-eating grin on her face claiming she had some positively delightful news to tell you?

Either way you didn't care. Because it had brought you here, still in your work getup, absolutely vibrating with the sheer force it was taking you to not be the biggest tease in the world about something that was okay, maybe a little sensitive.

Steve could see the restraint on your face anyway. He knew you wanted to tease him - you were loving this.

He was still contemplating just faking an emergency and leaving. It would have been hard with the way you were leaning over the counter, gripping the side closest to him to keep you supported as you blocked him from passing you. But maybe he could manage it if he put on a good enough show.

You were biting your lip in an attempt to not freak him out with the intensity of your grin. You really just wanted him to admit it.

Standing there, with your body basically draped over the counter, your lip worried between your teeth and your eyebrow raised, Steve thought maybe it wouldn’t be the embarrassment that killed him. Maybe it would just be from how goddamn pretty you were. He had never seen anyone more enchanting than you - he thought there were probably damn hearts in his eyes as he stared at you.

And if he thought about it, maybe you hadn't heard it from Robin... he wasn't exactly subtle when it came to you. He'd definitely tripped over himself, literally, to be the one to grab you a tape you'd requested be put on hold. More than once.

There had also been the time when you had caught him watching you as you perused the shelves, completely ignoring the increasingly frustrated attempts of Mrs Jones to try and get him to check out "Trading Places" for her.

"Steeeeeeeve." The melodic singsong of your voice was enough to bring him back to the present. And to cause him to realize he had just been staring at you, gape-mouthed, for at LEAST 15 uninterrupted seconds.

Yeah, it would be the embarrassment that killed him.

"I- I uh." You watched a muscle bob in Steve's throat as he swallowed hard, nervously running his hand through his hair. "I-"

"Are you always this articulate?" You said with a bat of your eyelashes and he groaned. You were gorgeous and funny and he used to be so much better at this. There's no way he would have fumbled this conversation back in high school.

Then again, you hadn't been at his high school.

Eyes closed he shook his head trying to clear his thoughts and quickly realised that could be interpreted as "no, I am NOT always this articulate which is to say, quite accurately, sometimes I literally can't speak when you talk to me". Steve quickly opened his eyes to stammer out... something. Jesus. He was really killing it.

You remain in your position, leaning on the counter as you wait for him to formulate a coherent thought. And no, you would not give him a reprieve. Not yet.

Because you had been hiding your crush behind teasing comments and little jokes and playful nudges since the second you laid eyes on the man in front of you. Ever the charmer, he would flirt and tease and joke back with you, tit for tat. But sometimes… you could push it, and throw him off his game. You could reduce him to a blushing sputtering mess, and you loved nothing more than to watch him try to process if you were talking a big game or would really walk the walk. You wanted to see if you could get him to finally end this game of chicken.

Steve huffed and let out a tentative laugh. His hand had found its way back to the disheveled strands on his head. "I, uh, I feel like there's no way for me to get out of this."

If Steve hadn't spent the last few months studying your every goddamn facial expression, he would have missed the little narrow you did of your eyes. Almost imperceptible, but he knew you did it when you were processing something and not quite sure where that thought process was taking you. Or what you were going to do.

It seemed like only a fraction of a second before you decided.

"What if," you began, a small almost devilish smile starting to spread across your lips, "I made it easier for you?"

You leaned closer towards Steve, and watched his eyes widen ever so slightly as he looked down at your lips. He licked his own without realising it, following your movements as you leaned closer, closer... and grabbed the sticky pad and pen he'd been doodling on before you had flounced in.

His cheeks warmed and it didn't escape your notice that there was a small flush spreading across Steve's face. Or that he absolutely wanted to kiss you.

You grinned to yourself, pulling the used sticky off and pressing it onto Steve's chest. He glanced down in confusion at the piece of paper stuck in the gap of his vest, his eyes flying back up to meet yours as you beamed. If you left your fingers splayed across his chest a second or two longer than necessary, he didn’t voice any complaints.

Pulling your hand away from Steve’s chest, you curled it over the pad in your other hand, scribbling furiously, while keeping the note’s contents hidden from Steve's curious gaze.

Pleased with yourself, you flipped the pad back towards him on the counter and slid the pen along with it, bumping his hand so that he would take over their possession. His fingers curled over yours briefly, and while you would’ve liked to have kept your hand under his a little longer, you were playing a special game and you weren’t ready for it to be over just yet.

Steve was so focused on your little smirk, and the way your eyes had crinkled when he looked down at your bottom lip, he didn't even register the note when he glanced down at it.

"You can send it along with the town crier if you want." You teasingly gestured out the window to Robin who had just pulled up in front of the store. He struggled to process it all; everything that was you and the note you had slipped across the counter, and he finally looked up again at you, you were partially to the door. A wink thrown back at him as you passed Robin.

"Hey Robs. Bye Steve." He heard a muffled “hello” and “bye” from Robin’s direction in response, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would have been to capture your lips against his with you as close as you had been. If not that, Christ, he could have at least admitted he couldn’t get you out of his head with you, there, giving him the perfect opportunity.

The chime of the door wasn't enough for him to stop staring after you. In fact, he watched you walk away until he couldn't see you anymore. He was vaguely aware of Robin speaking to him as she buzzed around him, moving things he had left “in the wrong place” and “should have put away already”. He felt her push into her personal space, boundaries long forgotten if they had ever been present at all, as she tapped at his hand.

"Uuuuh Steve? What's that?" Robin asked, her large blue eyes studying him and the object partially hidden by his large palm. He blinked slowly, eyes focusing back on the room in front of him instead of the spot where he had last seen you, turning out of the parking lot.

He could be angry with Robin later he thought, flipping the pad in his hand to read what you had written. He felt the tips of his ears go red as he finally processed the words in your slightly messy scrawl, Robin yammering about something in the background.

It was cute and it was cheesy and he was almost grateful you had left so you didn’t see the big stupid grin that spread across his face. Yeah, he had a crush on you. But you had a crush on him too.

He grabbed the pen and checked “yes”, pulling the note off the pad and shoving it deep in his pocket to get it away from Robin. He could deliver it himself.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #jasmine tries to write #curlswithcreativity

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arrowfleur · 2 months ago

Text

✩‧₊˚ Redacted HC’s ✩‧

Part 7: Asher and Babe

If you saw me accidentally post half of this earlier, no you didn’t

Asher has a photo of babe dress up up as the werewolf framed in their apartment

Babe is one of the only people Ashers head can clear around

Asher’s hair was so FRIED at one point that he shaved a buzz cut. Only to immediately bleach patterns into it

Looked good tho

Babe loved running their hands across it

They’re both big on touch but Asher asks for it more often

Asher is one of those that can eat and eat and eat and never put in weight, get acne, bloated etc

Babe always gets bloated

It’s very annoying

Babe is good at making several different outfits with the same few pieces of clothing

Asher sleep shifts a lot more since the inversion.

Babe hasn’t brought it up, they just snuggle into him

Asher is actually somewhat lactose intolerant but he just ignored it and refuses to admit it. Also don’t mention it when he orders pizza

Babe loves fairs, the lights, the attractions, the food. They’re very nostalgic to them

They’ve also kept all their childhood dvd’s and watch them for comfort

They are both oddly taken to d at finding little hidden gems around Dhalia

They of course organise taking the pack to them after they discover them

They’ve kept a couple to themselves though

Touch

Asher is obsessed with Babes big doe eyes

They’re so expressive

If a normal appliance comes in pastel colours Babe is twice as likely to buy it

Babe has slowly become less neat after moving in with Ash. Not because he’s a bad influence because he has not once since they’ve known him made a single comment about their things being in the way

When some of the pack slept over at their apartment Babe made a massive den for everyone

They did end up having to take out a few blankets, this was when they realised radiating heat was a wolf thing not an Asher thing

And also an Angel thing?

Babe warms their hands up on Asher and Angel by sticking them under their shirts

Babe find it hilarious

Asher has a wonderful habit of buying them matching things

Phone cases, key rings, plushies, pyjamas. If he likes something he always thinks of Babe too

He loves sharing, very little things are off limits with Ash

Ash is very serious about traditions and upholding them. He thinks it’s very important

He also has a lot more than just regular holiday stuff and Babe was very intrigued to learn what was random ash shenanigans and what he’d repeat the next year

Thank you for reading! An ‘underrated’ couple in my op, such cuties

#I had a lot more fun with this one than I first though #thought*#redacted asher #redacted babe #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #arrowsqueue

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showstopper35 · 30 days ago

Text

Anniversary - Billford

A Christmas gift for the one and only @gravedwe11er ! ——————————————————————

Ford wakes up on the roof.

It’s just before dawn, the sun behind the pines. A bitter, ringing laugh still echoes in his ears. One that makes the hair on the back of his neck prickle uncomfortably. The laugh prompts the question he finds himself asking almost daily now—what the hell did he do last night?

He stumbles down to the ladder connecting back to the house, jumping off to the floor from the third rung. Nothing in the room seems amiss, but that didn’t mean anything. Bill was both a master at subtleties and glaring, in-your-face gestures. Ford splashes some water in his face from the kitchen sink, trying to get the laughter and ache out of his head. He sees a flash of yellow in the reflection on the facet, and proceeds to throw a towel over it.

He leans back against the counter, and it’s only then he notices the cake on the table.

It’s two layers, with bright yellow frosting, of course. There’s a heart design on the top of the cake. An anatomically correct heart, of course. The details of the arteries are surprisingly good for being made out of frosting. Two plates are on either side of the cake, as if Bill could even eat a slice. Not only did he not have a mouth, but he also wasn’t even corporeal. For now.

Ford sits down and sighs, his face in his hands. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? It was probably poisoned. But despite his better judgement, he cut a knife into the cake. Out came a thick, crimson liquid, spilling all over the table in unending gushes.

Blood. Of course.

Ford throws the knife across the room. The metallic cling that sounds when it hits the dishwasher is quite satisfying. Peals of laughter rack his brain again, and then there’s chanting of “Sixer! Sixer! Sixer!” before he slumps forwards on the table and closes his eyes, the blood from the cake soaking into his sleeve.

He wakes up in his own mind: a library of doors sandwiched between shelves of books. Floating in front of him is a perfect triangle with beautiful matching angles and a very-

“Cut the dramatics, Cipher.” Ford growls.

Bill gives a loud, hearty laugh. “It’s just too much fun, Sixer. Say, did you like the cake? I worked hard making your body learn how to pipe frosting.”

“It was full of blood, which I cannot consume and is incredibly fucking psychotic, so no. I did not.” Ford sighs, finding a cushioned bench in the mindscape. Bill floats next to him, rolling his eye.

“You humans are so sensitive. First lactose intolerance, now you won’t drink blood. Next you’ll be telling me some people can’t eat uranium.”

Ford ignores this. “Would you mind telling me why I was on the roof? And why you even had me bake a cake in the first place? I didn’t even know I had enough flour for that.”

Bill materializes a martini out of thin air, swirling it around in his hand but not drinking it. “For our anniversary, of course.”

“Oh, that- Our what?”

His twelve fingers begin to shake as Bill laughs. There’s a note of nervousness in it, or perhaps Ford is imagining it.

“Don’t tell me you forgot, Sixer? It’s officially been three years since you let me into your head.” He swirls his martini a bit agressively, his other hand straightening his already-straight bow tie.

Ford sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “And this called for a…cake?”

There’s a flash of anger in Bill’s eyes. “Of course! Our bond has lasted three years! Isn’t that so exciting?” He spills the martini onto the floor and summons his cane, twirling it around. “Three years of the most interesting people collaborating. And once you get that portal running, our collaboration will turn into something even more wonderful.” He floats in front of Ford, using his cane to tip the man’s chin up. “Aren’t we lovely, Sixer?”

Ford swats him away, cursing under his breath. An uncomfortable heat finds its way up his neck. “We aren’t anything, Cipher. You’re a torment. Not even a collaboration.”

Bill floats back a little, his cane disappeared with a small poof. “I help you, Sixer. We’re a team. A collaboration. A…partnership.”

Ford sighs, shaking his head. “You’re a curse, is what you are. You just make messes and make my life so much harder. We are not partners, Cipher. I’m your plaything and you are my torturer.”

Bill is uncharacteristically silent, his thin limbs hanging limply from his triangular body for a moment. His eye flickers from red to yellow. Ford scoots away, prepared for a tantrum of near-cosmic proportions. But bill just flops onto the bench, face, er, eye-first. He’s completely flattened, a gross approximation of his initial origins.

“I hate you.” He says simply.

“I hate you too.” Ford replies automatically.

There’s a beat of silence. No ringing laughter, no sarcastic comments from either of them.

“The…heart design was pretty impressive.” Ford finally says.

“Yeah?” Bill looks up from his melodramatic position.

“Yeah.”

#bill cipher #bill ci the triangle guy #billford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gf bill cipher #gf stanford #ford pines #ford x bill #bill cipher x ford

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bellysoupset · 9 months ago

Note

Okay so this is what I thought of while reading the interactions with the kids.

I just remembered that Vince is lactose intolerant, right? So how would you feel about lactose intolerant Vince with (reluctant) caretaker Max for a change?

I mean I can imagine maybe a class party or something with a kid wanting to make sure that Mr. Monacelli (or Mr. Mo because that is freaking cute) is having fun too, so they keep bringing him snacks.

I can totally see Vin accepting anything and everything from a kid with doe eyes and not having any way to refuse because the kid is watching him and wants to see Vin eat it. (Let's be honest, Vince would never even speak up because he wouldn't want to hurt their feelings).

After that Vin is feeling gradually sicker and sicker until Max can't keep ignoring him anymore, so Vin has to spill the tea.

Then Max is like "why did you even accept?" While Vin, slightly offended, is like "did you really expect me to say no to that kid?"

I know it's really detailed, feel free to ignore it, I just couldn't get this little scenario out of my head.

- 💜

💜! I hope you like this one, I slightly twisted it and it's a little different from my usual... So let me know what you think!

--------------------

Max frowned, leaning on the doorway of the kindergarten. His hands were full with a large tupperware with baking soda, food coloring and vinegar, the usual science fair volcano mix.

What caused him to pause, though, was the sight inside the classroom. Mr. Monacelli, or Mr. Mo to the little ones, was standing, with a kid on his hip, a little girl… Livia, judging by how comfortable he seemed to be as he held her.

Liv’s dark wavy hair was up pigtails and she had face paint on, the tip of her nose painted black and whiskers on her cheek, a matching look that was mirrored on the other children. Cats, the Musical, kindergarten version? Max thought with a snort.

Vince also had face paint on and he was chewing something Livia had just pushed inside his mouth, out of a box. Across the room Max noticed a tall chocolate cake, with a glittery candle that said 7 on top.

That explained it.

Birthday parties were always the bane of his existence, so he was incredibly glad he barely taught kindergarten and the older kids would rather die than celebrate in class. As far as he could remember it, he had bad experiences under his belt. From his mom trying to throw him a fully vegan party that had been a flop with him and his friends, to his father getting drunk and forgetting about his birthday altogether, to the fact once he turned eighteen his birthday all but disappeared as celebratory day.

“Mr. Mo,” a kid ran across the room, with glitter face paint all the way to his scalp. Max snorted at the sight, the parents surely would be over the moon about that, “tell Jess she can’t play with my toy.”

Vince frowned, crouching down to look at the little boy and Max frowned, staring at the scene. He couldn’t figure out this dude. Monacelli gave off military vibes. Football star, with his little homophobic fit the other day, driving that ridiculous motorcycle everywhere… And there he was, covered in glittery paint, scolding a boy for not sharing his toys and being fed cake pops by his little sister and her group of friends.

It just didn’t make any sense.

“Daniels, do you need anything?”

Max’s cheeks burned as he realized he had been caught staring and he shook his head, as five little heads looked at him, as well as Vince.

“No, just passing by.”

“Alright,” Vince waved him off, taking the boy’s hand and dragging him across the room to apologize.

It was a couple hours later when they met again. Max was smelling like bleach, after finishing up a biology class with the 10th graders, and ready to head home as he entered the staff’s lounge to retrieve his bag. He raised his eyebrows as he found Monacelli sitting on one of the couches, in the furthest corner, with his arms crossed to his chest and his head tipped back, as if he was asleep.

“Hey,” Max kicked Vince’s foot to wake him in case he was asleep, “day’s over.”

Vince wasn’t asleep — or maybe he was a really quiet sleeper? — because he sat up straight with a groan, moving his arms to wrap around his stomach, “what do you want?”

Max frowned at the lackluster response, so unlike the man who always seemed to have his energy up, “school’s over, are you planning on crashing here? Maurice is gonna be locking this room soon.”

Vince let out a sigh, using the couch to push himself up and the other man realized he was a horrible shade of white… Damn near green.

“You look horrible,” Max said, taking a step back as he noticed Vince swaying slightly on his feet. Instead of denying, Vince simply nodded, bringing up a shaky hand to wipe the sweat off his brow.

“Yeah, I know-” he interrupted himself with a soft, sickly burp. He didn’t bother finishing his sentence, ceasing every movement as he gulped down, only to let out another little burp and a groan.

“What’s wrong with you?” Max eyed him suspiciously. There was no way this man had caught another stomach bug after measly five weeks of having one, right?

Vince pressed his forehead to the metal locker in the teacher’s lounge, seemingly devoid of any energy to put in his combination and retrieve his bag. Most teachers didn’t even put in a combination, everyone used the standard 0000.

“Monacelli,” he stepped closer, despite wanting nothing to do with illness or this guy. It was just unnerving.

“I’m fine,” Vince breathed out, but it would have been a lot more convincing if he wasn’t swallowing in convulsively and clutching his stomach. Stomach, which by the way, was pressing against his work polo. The guy wasn’t small by any means and Max could’ve told he had a tummy to begin with, but now it was nearly poking out.

“Yeah, you look terrific,” Max rolled his eyes, walking to retrieve his own bag and deciding he was done with the whole scene, “feel better-”

He never quite finished his sentence, before Vince let out a little strangled noise and then rushed across the room, to the teacher’s bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and Max cringed in sympathy as he heard a muffled groan.

Now he couldn’t just leave the idiot, right? Not after he had driven him home?

Max carefully walked closer, tapping his knuckles against the door, “Monacelli, do you need anything? Meds? The nurse? Your mom?”

He expected to hear Vince telling him to go fuck himself, but instead there was a noise of liquid hitting liquid, followed by retching and more liquid.

Shit. Perhaps, even, literally.

Max chewed on his lip, looking around the room helplessly as if an older adult would appear and take over the situation, but he sadly was the only adult. He looked at his watch. 3:40 PM. Office hours were over, the janitor and the security would soon be finishing their rounds and closing up the school.

“Dude,” he sighed, knocking again, “you kinda need to leave, they’re gonna lock us here.”

“Go away…” Vince groaned, his voice raspy and choked up.

Max scoffed, “are you crying?” really? “Mona-”

“I said, go away,” Vince repeated, much harsher now and Max’s mouth snapped shut, his cheeks heating up as his temper got the best of him.

“Fine,” he said bitterly,loudly walking away, “drown there, see if I care.”

Sadly, much to Max’s displeasure, he had a guilty conscience and couldn’t make it even to the parking lot. He let out a sigh and glared at the now empty parking lot. Only four vehicles left, one of them being Vince’s stupid motorcycle.

There was no way the man could go home in a fucking bike.

“Moron,” Max groaned, walking back inside. He fully expected to find Vince back in the teacher’s lounge, so it was much to his surprise when they ran into each other in the hallway. Or rather, he ran, because Vince was frozen in place, an arm wrapped tightly around his belly and breathing through the nausea carefully.

“Oh there you are-”

“Thought I told you to leave,” Vince groaned, not looking up from the spot in the linoleum he was staring at, trying to keep his stomach in check, “careful, or I’ll believe you give a shit.”

“Fever must be through the roof, you’re delusional,” Max snarked, curiosity getting the best of him as he stepped closer and raised a hand to touch Vince’s forehead.

Monacelli was much taller, and bigger, so when he pushed Max’s hand away with an impatient huff, the other teacher stumbled on his feet.

“I don’t have a fever,” Vince scoffed, straightening up. He looked worse, more green and more drenched in sweat, “I’m lactose intolerant and I ate- I ate half a chocolate cake…” his gut let out an upset, whiny gurgle that was loud enough for Max to hear.

The blonde stared at him for a second, before cackling “are you fucking with me!?”

When he didn’t get an answer, except for Vince’s cheek ballooning with yet another burp that he muffled with a fist, Max’s laughter lessened down to a chuckle, his shoulders shaking, “oh… You’re serious? You’re in this shape because of some chocolate?”

He really was the one to judge, Max thought with a snort, remembering he’d be hurling much sooner if he ate half a chocolate cake. But then again, he wouldn’t be stumbling around cradling his tummy and whining.

“What do you want, Daniels?” Vince groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, “I don’t fucking get you. I helped you, not once, not twice, but three times by now, and you’re still a dick.”

Max’s chuckle died immediately, his cheeks burning, “sorry, should I’ve been bowing and kissing your feet? What do you want, cuddles and kisses because your tummy hurts?”

Vince raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “I’m really sorry you weren’t hugged enough as a child,” he said coldly, “but yeah, actually, I do have people who take care of me when I feel ill, because I’m not a fucking jackass.”

“Says you,” Max snorted, rolling his eyes and gesturing to the empty hallway, “where’s the queue to cuddle you? I don’t see it.”

“I know what your problem with me is,” Vince scoffed, pressing his back to the wall behind him and huffing. He was shaking, which was not a good sign and Max bit down the urge to ask if the guy was okay.

“Enlighten me,” he said instead and Vince folded in half, planting his hands on his knees and breathing through a cramp.

“You’re jealous,” he said through his teeth and Max glared daggers at him, his stomach dropping to his feet.

He wasn’t jealous, he was… He just didn’t think Vince was anything special. Surely he was allowed this opinion?

For example, if Vince was so great, why was he about to hurl all over the floor that Maurice had probably already cleaned? That was asshole behavior.

Max mentally patted himself on the back, before saying loudly, “here, Mr. Moron, don’t hurl all over the floor,” and pushing a garbage bin in front of the guy. He didn’t expect Vince to make immediate use of it, falling to his knees and grabbing the metal bin with his hands, hugging it to his chest as a huge gush of projectile vomit fell inside of it.

He jumped back, startled, then tip-toed closer, feeling a new shade of shitty as he heard Vince let out a whimper and bury his head in, burping wetly once more and continuing to convulse and cough.

“If you’re such hot shit, why didn’t you not eat the thing you’re aware makes you super ill?” Max asked, mostly to himself, hesitantly moving closer to plant a hand in the middle of the guy’s back. Even down on his knees, Vince was still pretty freaking tall.

Max patted his back in a hesitant manner, then cringed as he heard footsteps down the hallway. Curse both their lucks, Vince’s because he was about to be caught hurling his brains out, and Max’s because now he’d have to look out for the prick.

He braced for Fernanda, the principal, or Maurice, the janitor, but raised his brows as the person who rounded the corner was no one he knew. The man was well into his mid fifties or early sixties, with wavy light brown hair and blue eyes… And he was really tall.

Max cringed as suddenly he realized he knew Mr. Monacelli from parent-teacher meetings and that the old guy would be expecting him to act like a lovable guy, the same lovable teacher he was when talking about Sophia or Livia. Fuck.

“Mr. Mona-”

“Dad,” Vince croaked, lifting his head for a slight second, “fuck- Fuck, it hurts.”

Mr. Monacelli all but ignored Max as he crouched down next to his son, planting a wrinkly hand on his back and rubbing in wide circles, “I got you, I got you. Get it up and then I’m taking you home.”

Max bit the inside of his cheek so as not to chuckle at that, “Uh- Hi…?”

“Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe zeroed him, opening a small smile, “thank you for keeping him company.”

Sure. That was what he was doing.

“Yeah, uhm- Of course,” Max scratched at his beard, as Vince let out another sickly belch, bringing up a bit more watery vomit, and then leaned back, his head hitting the lockers, chest heaving, drenched in sweat.

“Babbo, I’m dying.”

“You should be,” Giuseppe glared at him, “what a stupida idea was that?” he softly thumped on his son’s forehead, “I couldn’t believe my ears when Livia told me. Cazzo, you’re an adult, Vincenzo!”

Vince frowned, looking pathetically close to tears, “babbo,” he breathed out, wiping at his mouth and clutching his bloated belly, “later?”

“Idiota,” his father scoffed, grabbing his arm and helping him get up, “Non pensi?”

“Dad,” Vince said a little harsher and his father stopped scolding him continuously, glaring at his son.

“Let’s go home- Thank you for helping him, Mr. Daniels,” Giuseppe said, still oblivious to the role, or lack of one, Max had played.

“Of course,” Max said cheekily, following them out, “any time, Vince. I hope your tummy feels better.”

“Go fuck yourself, Danie- Babbo!” Vince cried out, as his father slapped the back of his hand, dragging him out of the school and towards his car.

“Don’t swear at the boy, he helped you,” Mr. Monacelli glared at Vince, “get in the car.”

“What am I, five?” Vince groaned, stumbling to the car and bracing against it, breathing deeply through the nausea.

Max bit down a smirk, “Bye Mr. Monacelli,” he said happily, “bye Vinny.”

Behind his father’s back, Vince raised a middle finger at him.

#sickfic #mywriting #vince monacelli #lactose intolerance #emeto #emetophilia #nausea #stomach ache #loads of bantering in this one

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