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skeltnwrites · 4 months ago

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Bad Cop - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You wake to a call from your boyfriend Eddie who asks you to bail him out of jail.

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: interactions with police, mild injury, talk of fighting and bullying, sexual innuendos

A/N: I might be a little late to the Eddie Munson party but I’m here now! :D

“This is a collect call from Edward Munson at Hawkins Police Station. Will you accept the charges?”

You clear your throat but your voice still feels raw when you speak, “Yes.”

“Please hold,” the operator says.

A trilling sound as you wait, twirling the phone cord anxiously. You’d been tucked in bed a minute ago, dead to the world. The phone rang loud enough from the kitchen to startle you awake. You caught the time on the alarm clock on the nightstand as you kicked the blankets off, just after one in the morning.

“Y/N?” His voice is soft under the crackle.

“Edward.” It’s not angry per se but you never use his real name which is telling.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Are you okay?” you sigh, tipping your head till your forehead meets the wallpaper.

“I’m sorry— I’m fine. I just, can you bail me out please.”

“What happened, Eds?”

“Just a stupid fight. Nothing serious, I promise.” He pleads like you won’t believe him and doesn’t give you a chance to press for details, “There’s cash in a shoebox on the top shelf of the closet. On my side, all the way in the back.”

You want to scold him but you're still kneading sleep from your face, irritated now that you know he’s okay. You bite your cheek, considering the possibility of an argument. Knowing that it shouldn’t take place through a phone.

“You’re sure? It’s enough?”

“Swear.”

“Okay, on my way.”

He apologizes again before the line clicks.

You shuffle through the band tees he’s grown out of and have since been neglected to the back of your shared closet. You make a mental note to remind him to drop some off at Goodwill. Under a stack of vinyls, you locate the box with a rolled wad of twenties held together by a rubber band. You snap the band, biting your lip. It’s enough to buy something expensive, really expensive. You jam your heel into a laced sneaker and do not bother to change out of your pajamas. The money is pushed deep into your pocket along with the house keys. You shake away arising questions as you start the van.

Cold air smacks your bare arms as you push open the station door. You blink rapidly at the fluorescents. An officer hands you a clipboard, you sign two dotted lines, and fork over most of the cash. He retreats to a separate room without a word, presumably to retrieve your boyfriend, leaving you alone in the lobby.

Your arms pillow your head on the counter until a familiar set of steps rounds the corner. His eyes, big and sorry, find yours instantly. But your attention quickly shifts to the marbled purple and blue highlighting the arch of his cheek. The stern speech about bar fights and bail payments you’d rehearsed on the way flees your throat. He brushes past the counter to hug you and you spot a split lip too. Your shoulders deflate as you meet him halfway.

“Thank you,” Eddie mumbles into your crown.

You give his waist a quick squeeze before pulling back. His hands chase the goosebumps from your skin as you scan his face. His curls are frizzy which is typical but more disheveled like he’s been running his hands through them. Your nail traces his lower lip where it was clearly cracked open but is now glazed over with a layer of dry blood. “Lose any teeth?”

He smiles, pearls still intact, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad. His breath smells faintly of alcohol as he says, “You look tired.”

“I am so tired,” you admit.

He grits his teeth guiltily, “I’ll make it up to you.”

An officer clears his throat and passes Eddie a brown paper bag with ‘Munson’ scribbled on the front. He snatches the bag with a wink. The man offers nothing but a blank stare, maybe mild disapproval as Eddie pivots and jogs toward you, already at the door. He fishes for his lighter from the bag, kissing and pocketing it as you step outside.

“Can I drive?” Eddie reaches for the keys in your hand. You always let him drive.

You snatch the carabiner to your chest, elbowing his side, “Are you trying to get a DUI too?”

“I had one beer,” he scoffs as you unlock the door.

You believe him but pretend not to as you hop in the driver's seat. “You’re a criminal now. Can’t be trusted!” You yell playfully before slamming the door as he jogs around the hood.

“Very funny,” he mutters as he climbs in.

You sling your arm over his seat to back out. The streetlight accentuates the bruise when you glance past him.

“Does it hurt?”

“Hmm?”

You point at your own cheek.

“Oh, no. It’s fine. Should’ve seen the other guy,” he chuckles.

“We’ll ice it when we get home,” you pull out onto the main road before settling your gaze back on him. “So who was the other guy?”

His eyes roll in your peripherals, “So Shelly Watkins was there—“

“You hit Shelly Watkins?”

“Jesus! No! Her stupid boyfriend Rob Perry.” He groans in disgust. “You remember him? He was such a dick in high school!”

You shake your head, trying to recall.

“He’s a couple of years older I think. Well anyway, Shelly was blabbing her big mouth, as usual, about Robin and her new girlfriend.”

“What was she saying?” You interrupt, curious but inferring already.

“Nasty shit. And she’s talking so loud the whole bar can probably hear. I mean, I couldn’t not say anything, babe. And hey,” he throws his hands up in surrender, “All I said was ‘Seems like what other people do in their spare time isn’t your business.’”

You smirk, knowing it was not as polite as he made it out to be.

“And Rob is all ‘What did you say?’” Eddie teasingly lowers his voice, foot hiked up in his seat to face you with a finger curled under his nose like a mustache.

You steal glances from the road to watch the theatrics as he retells the story, making sure to emphasize when he punched Rob square in the nose so hard it broke.

“Did you win?” You ask, attempting to hide your proud grin by checking your blind spot.

“Oh yeah.” Eddie crosses his arms, accidentally nicking the wound on his lip with his nail as he retracts the faux finger stache. He winces, tapping the cut to assess the damage. Fresh blood coats his finger; he’s quick to press his whole hand over his mouth as he fumbles through the glovebox with the other. A deck of fast food napkins you’d organized spills out. You catch one before it falls, crumpling it into his free hand and swerving back into your lane. He replaces his hand with the thin sheet, wiping his fingers on another napkin off the floor as you pull up to a stoplight.

He tips his head like a puppy when he catches you staring. You lick your thumb, smearing a stray drop crawling down his chin. Your palm lingers on his skin, rubbing circles behind his ear as the light flicks green.

It’s not long before you pull into the driveway and unlock the front door. Eddie holds a third napkin to his face. You consider going to the ER for stitches as you toss the keys on the counter and snatch a Ziploc bag from the cabinet.

Two lines of light form a skewed L in the hall from the cracked bathroom door; A silent message that you are allowed to come in. It squeaks familiarly loud on its hinges but Eddie doesn't acknowledge you.

He focuses on his reflection as he peels the napkin away hesitantly. The blood has stopped but his lip looks swollen and angry. You hook a finger through his belt loop, tugging him until he turns. You nudge the bag of ice to his cheek and he flinches grasping your hand to pull it away.

“‘s cold.”

You tug the hand towel off the sink and wrap the plastic, pushing it back to his cheek. You hold it there caressing his lash line with your pointer. He leans into the touch, rubbing his eyes with ringed fingers. Eddie pulls the thick silver off one by one, setting them on the counter.

“Sit,” you tell him.

He perches on the edge of the toilet lid obediently. You pick a washcloth from the drawer and run it under the sink. He parts his knees as you approach him, hands snapping into place at your hips. You cup his chin, pushing up until he tilts it toward you. Cool water cleans his lips where you brush. He doesn’t flinch, even when you accidentally dig too hard. You progress down to his jaw, where blood is smeared dry, and flaky.

“Think I’ll have a cool scar?” His breath fans your chin as you work cautiously.

“No,” you say. He toys with the strings on your pants, happy to be taken care of. “But you don’t need it. You’re cool already.”

The corners of his mouth lift fondly. He fights the urge to smile, hoping you’ll work longer if he sits still. You swipe in slow strokes, also secretly loving the time and touch.

You give his face a once over before tossing the rag to the counter. He searches your expression for a diagnosis. But words are slow to find your mouth, too enraptured with the long lashes that bat his cheeks sweetly. “I love how eager you are to stick up for the people you love,” you start.

“But?”

“But, we can’t afford you getting arrested over something like this.”

“I know,” he groans and headbutts you gently in the stomach. His hands cup the backs of your thighs and his hair drapes around his face like a curtain. You comb a handful of it over his neck and he tilts his head so you can see his eyes. “I don’t regret what I did, though. He’s always been such a bully. He deserved it, you know?” He sighs, gaze drifting away, “I felt like I could finally stand up to him after all these years.”

Your fingers trail down his shoulder to smooth out the tee riding up his back. “I don’t doubt that he deserved it. I know you just want to do the right thing. But still, he can probably afford it, we can’t.” You hesitate to ask, “Where did you get that money anyway?”

He hugs your middle, muttering into your belly, “Been saving.”

“For what?”

He shrugs and says what you believe to be, “Something special.” You are curious but lean on your trust rather than insecurity. He most likely intended to surprise you with something if you didn’t know.

“Sorry, you had to spend it.”

“Not your fault.” He peers up at you as if to ensure you know that and you brush his bangs back.

“Still, sorry.”

He blinks slowly up at you like a cat waiting for more pets. Then, he shoots up, back stiff, eyes wide. “You have work tomorrow,” he realizes out loud.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” you pull his arm until he stands. “I actually have come down with a real nasty cold,” you force a cough into your fist.

“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, not only that but there's this criminal that won’t leave me alone. Think I might have to file a report at the station tomorrow.”

He laughs, flicking the light off as he follows you to the bedroom. The ice pack is left to melt in the sink and the stained washcloth to dry on the counter, a mess for tomorrow you’ve decided. You’re quick to crawl under the covers and he’s even quicker to shed his clothes and join you.

Eddie pecks the sliver of collarbone poking out of your shirt, making his way up in a dotted line. He presses gently to your lips, and you break away mindfully, aiming for the corner instead.

“You know?” Your eyes are closed but you feel his stare.

You hum.

“I think it’s kinda sexy when you call me a criminal.”

“Oh my God!” You throw an arm over your burning cheeks, “You are so horny.”

He laughs into your wrist but moves it aside to cradle your cheeks firmly. He pulls one eyelid open gently with his thumb when you refuse to engage. You release the smile you’ve been keeping. He mirrors it, teeth bright in the moonlight spilling in. “Think about it, I already have handcuffs so you can play bad cop and—“

You grope for a pillow to push into his face and then another when he chucks it off the bed, giggles overlapping.

“I’m going to call the police on you, have them arrest you again. Take you to horny jail.”

“Now you get it,” he releases his grip on your wrists to sit back on his heels and in a voice that is not his own he fawns, “Oh, officer! I promise to be a good boy from now on!”

You roll over, groaning wildly into your pillow. “Go to bed!”

He settles behind you, his heart races where it's thumping against your back. Yours isn’t far off. A final kiss is planted on your nape where he tickles you with his hair as he wishes you a good night.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #joeseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things

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deadsetobsessions · 6 months ago

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Hi! Party Planner! Danny has struck again.

——

Danny clambered onto the top of the building, eyes fixed onto the dimming Gotham City sky line. Electric blue eyes froze in concentration as his targets grappled into view. he quickly scaled the last rungs of the fire escape ladder to stumble onto the roof. Danny waved his arms, and his targets, catching sight of him mere moments later, began swinging towards him. Danny adjusted his bag strap.

“Hello, concerned citizen, what do you need assistance with?”

Danny faltered. Who the fuck was wearing Batman’s cowl?

Robin (with a sword) scowled at Batman before turning his attention back to Danny.

“Uh. Right,” Danny muttered, giving ‘Batman’ the most obvious and glaring side eye he could. Regardless, if the little Robin did not protest this Batman’s presence… it was good enough for him. “I’m a party planner.”

Robin spoke before Batman could. “And what of it?”

“The… uh, League of Evil or something, wait,” Danny fumbled while opening the bag and pulling out some papers. “Ah, Legion of Doom. Them.”

Little Robin and fake-Batman perked up. Fake-Batman tensed visibly. Danny grumbled. “Anyways, they’re contacting me- by they, I mean Lex Luthor- to see if I could plan a party in… God, why are Gotham’s names for shit so depressing?”

“Get on with it.” Little Robin snapped. Danny was reminded of Dani instantly and let it slide.

“Ah, right, they want me to plan a party in “Slaughter Swamp” on the seventh of next month. So… keep an eye on that, okay?” Danny asked Robin.

“Are you supposed to be telling us this?” Fake-Batman asked.

Danny shrugged, running a hand through his hair, practiced fingers brushing aside that little white streak of hair he got from the portal.

Little Robin’s gaze snapped up to his hair.

“It’s fine. They haven’t had me sign an NDA yet.” And, well, the devil is in the details but Danny is the devil.

“I’ll handle it.” Fake-Batman promised. Danny threw him a skeptical look.

“Uh-huh. Right.” He turned back to sword Robin, who looked torn between the supposed slight towards Batman and pride at Danny’s apparent trust in his abilities. “Look, here’s the stuff I have on them- copied them- and good luck and all that.”

He handed the file and some data in a usb stick to Robin, dipping away as soon as he could. He had a party to plan, and matching Luthor’s purple-gold aesthetic to Cheeta’s yellow and black spotted material wasn’t going to get done by themselves.

——

“Even the civilians outside of Gotham could tell you’re not Batman.” Damian scoffed as he watched their party planner slip back into his apartment.

“Hey, I thought I did pretty well!”

“I do not claim to know what hallucinogens you’ve inhaled, but do not come near me. I don’t want your stupidity to catch everyone else unawares.”

“Hey!”

“Get it together, Kryptonian. We still have half the night to patrol.”

Damian swung off, mind whirling along side Kent’s little hamster wheels for a brain. He’ll have to inform father. And Timothy. Red Robin had a grudge to settle with Scarecrow and will aid in Damian’s plot to obtain sugar gliders in exchange for the information. Yes.

——

Clark, thinking his Batman acting was bad: :(

Danny, has never met Batman: this can’t be Batman, he’s being midwestern polite

——

Also, I just want to say that the Flash has Georgia State patrol energy.

#batman #danny phantom #Damian Wayne #clark Kent #tbh it could prolly be another kryptonian guy #but still #Bruce Wayne #dcxdp #dpxdc #Danny’s midwestern senses pinging

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writingbynova · 2 months ago

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The Party ★

★ & The After Party

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ⊹ : pwp (porn with plot) - mdni - frat boys au - gojo & geto x nerd!fem!reader - party - bff drags u there - tiny mention of substances but no use - mean geto - protected sex - degrading - pet names - geto calls you: sugar/ doll & Gojo calls you: sweetie/ princess/ baby - rough sex - biting - overstimulation - threesome - slight choking/ breath play - hits of dacryphilia - missionary - Doggystyle - face fucking - praising - oral(m & f receiving) - mind breaking - dirty talk - fingering - getting caught (through the phone) - lmk if I missed any tags...

Word count : 3.6k

A/N : sorry js felt horny ಠ⁠_⁠ಠ (should have added toys but I'm sleepy) wrote this while listening the the party & the after party, shameless, often, I was never there, & coming down.

Majoring in Biology but never got fucked by two frat boys at a party ? Guess you didn't listen during the chapter of reproduction... Let's teach you some tricks shall we ?

"Going where? A party ??" you asked your eyes almost gouging out of their socket "Id love to but i don't think I can... And I wasn't invited. I have homework anyway it's better I stay and study"

You friend stands in front of your mirror, putting dresses up to her body to determine which one suites her best. They all do.

"Yeah whatever, good thing I wasn't asking you to come. I'm telling you. Get dressed, Yuji is picking us up in 30 mins. " She says leaving you alone in the room.

Frat boy's parties weren't really your thing. Although you couldn't judge because you had never been to a party, you always focussed on your studies. Hence why you didn't even know where you were heading to. Nonetheless you headed to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

"You done ?!" You heard your friend scream from another room, while you applied some mascara. "You better be when I get there !!"

You sighed. You really didn't feel extremely comfortable going. You didn't know anyone except your bestie who was basically your polar opposite. Outgoing, friends and... Well 'closer' with the popular boys. While you were the awkward nerd who didn't know anyone and never interacted with XY chromosomes possessors. Majoring in Biology.

Your friends barged into your room just as you expected and you stood anxiously before her.

"Where you going?" She asked judging you up and down. "Uh.. you said a party" you muttered, this situation really wasn't your daily life. "No, I mean where are you going dressed like a Spanish teacher, you look a damn mess girl." So that's the matter. "Oh...it's that bad ?" "That bad ? You look like you got dressed in the dark"

Pink skirt and a purple top make a cute combo tho ? Don't they? Okay, maybe not then.

"You were seriously about to walk out dressed like a 6 year old girl? And where's your makeup ?" Truthfully she was being dramatic. "I don't wear makeup and I've never seen a 6 year old dressed like this" you clapped back "Only means they dress better than you." Ouch. Touché " We've got about 10 minutes to salvage this before Yuji shows up, go get my makeup bag and the black leader dress on my bed. Quick." You nearly ran out the room. Visibly the night would be hard.

"Are you sure this is okay ? I think I look kind of weird and these lashes are sooo long I've never had them this long."

"You look like a piece a cheesecake. I'd take a bite out of that ass right this second if Yuji wasn't waiting for us" she laughs. You chuckle at her antics. As funny as she is you can't help but feel self conscious at the idea of walking out dressed like this. A black leader strapless dress, barely covering your ass. Black high heels in which you barely felt stable. A full face of makeup adorning your face you looked like a mini version of her. Hot as a motherfucker though.

"Let's head down girl?" She says, peaking through the door. Handing you a little YSL bag with a gold strap.

"Yes, be there in a second I just need to find my glasses..." You said, patting your desk in search of your square correction glasses. "Please tell me you're not planning on wearing those windshields..." She criticizes. "I need to wear them, I can barely see without them." "You're lying !! You haven't been wearing them since and you're fine let's go." She said grabbing your wrists and dragging you out. Fuck.

A pink haired boy gestures at you two before opening the car door for you two. 'Such a nice boy' you think. Thanking him and sitting next to your friend in the car. She makes small talk with him and you get to know he's one in a few classes of hers and friends with the party organizers.

"Gojo and Geto, hottest boys alive. The party is at Gojo's house he's some rich kid you must have seen him at least once." You look over at the picture. A tall boy with white hair and sky blue eyes leaning on a tall boy with black long hair and purple eyes. They're cute you can't lie. You have seen him around, he plays basketball and girls from what you heard. "They look nice" you only say. Because what else is there to be said. This is just two campus boys organizing a big party. Nothing special, you've never experienced one but now it doesn't seem like anything special

"I won't tell you what I think. Make up your own opinion were here" she says gesturing for you to open the door on your side. Suddenly it does seem like something special and the knot ties in your stomach, you start wobbling on your heels. Still your friends drags you to the door with a "you'll be okay" that does not reassure you in the slightest. A boy open the door. Pink hair. "I though Yuji wasn't coming in until later ?" You whisper in her ear "that's not Yuji it's Sukuna his twin." Yeah makes sense. He lets you both ente the house and you're hit with the smell of sex, probably some weed and sweat.

Your friend drags you over to her group of friend and they start chatting, before moving over to take shots. You on the other hand stay aside, props for not drinking but you do feel excluded. You need to isolate, Candy by Doja Cart banging within your head, it's too crowded. "Where's the bathroom" you scream over the music. Your friend points up the stairs. Without thinking you rush up the stairs, it's already better. The floor is already much more empty. What wasn't smart was not asking which door was the bathroom door. They were all white. Which one was it ?

Anyway. You didn't really need to go to the bathroom you just needed some alone time. And which the popular music playing downstairs you were soon the only one left sitting on the hallway carpet in some corner. Clearing your calendar and doing some homework on your phone. You should have taken your earphones with you. "Need some help princess?" A voice asks. You lift your head to be met with the white haired boy leaning over you, his big eyes staring at yours. So that's why she said they were the hottest boys alive...

The black haired boy sighed "is she even sober ? How many times have we told these randoms to stay off the top floor" he hisses staring you down. "Oh I'm very sorry, I didn't know and I was looking for somewhere private..and I'm not drunk, I don't drink" you say almost muttering. This is not the best encounter you ever went through, it looked like the white haired boy was intrigued but the black haired boy very obviously didn't like you. "Coming to a frat party to stay alone and not drink. Do you even know us ?" The black haired boy asks. Shit. That's true what's their name again? "Uhhh" you point at the white haired boy" Joe—go ? Jogo? And Toge? No! uhhh Geto is it ?" They both stare at you blankly before bursting out in laughter "she called you Jogo, you'll never hear the end of it" Geto? Laughs, mocking the white haired boy who's face in now red.. "Sorry was that not it ? I apologize if I said something offensive " you retract "it's okay" he offers you a hand. "I'm Geto, you got that right, and he's Gojo, not Jogo" he chuckles looking over at his friend. You take his hand lifing yourself of the ground and stepping in a much clearer light.

"Damn, ya look good" Gojo says, starring you down. They probably couldn't see you properly because corned you were in. "You actually do" Geto adds smirking at you. "How About we show you around ?"

Well they're much more welcoming now.

You can feel your face burning. Like melting off. As you walk down the corridor. You're sandwiches between a total of six ab rows. Scarily hot. Gojo's hand holds your hip, while Geto's holding your hand. "So... What do u major in ?" He asks. You're hardly able to think, the tension is so obvious. "Uhh.. bio" you say as the white haired boy unlocking a door to a room? "What are we doing here ?" You ask starting to feel anxious. Two frat boys taking you in some room sounds weird. It was pretty though, a balcony from which you could see over a good part of the city, a huge bed with silk red sheets and a plain blanket, a nightstand, a desk. And some led lights shining a pretty pink.

"Who's room is this?" You ask. Looking around. "Mine, if you looking to chill you're free to come here" he says closing the door, locking it and standing behind you, his hand on your waist. Letting the white haired boy come into view. He holds your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. They probably could tell your heart was beating at a thousand mile per hour, you tried avoiding his gaze, though he was dangerously close to your face, to your lips to be precise. "You're so soft" he says "and you smell so nice" Geto adds, his face buried in to crook of your neck.

"A-ah thank you" you stutter. You can very distinctively feel Geto's cock pressing up against you dress, which is too short by the way, entirely too short. Gojo starts lining kisses on your jaw, until his face is met with yours again, his eyes focusing on your lips, he grazes his thumb upon them. "Can I ?" He says looking you in the eyes. He wants to kiss you ? This rich ass frat boy want to kiss you ? Fuck.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, so you nod mindlessly. He leans in "just relax" his lips meet yours and the feeling in euphoric, he's crazy skilled, it feels like bliss pure bliss, you taste a minty hint on his lips before his tongue slides into your mouth. Chasing after yours "mmhf!" You whine feeling Geto behind you, trailing bite marks all over your neck. "What'd you say sugar ?" He says coily, watching you avoid the question. Thing is you don't stand a chance before them. When's the last time you've had sex ? A year and a half ? Maybe two? And now you two guys slowly hiking up you dress. "Listen here sugar. How about we make you feel realll nice? You seem so pent up..." He says against your skin. Kissing the spots he previously bit. "Ah uh I don't really kno-"you start saying, interrupted. "oh won't you look at that ? So horny she got her panties and my pants wet! We should take care of that" Gojo says shining a runway worthy smile. Shit. You knew you were kinda wet, who wouldn't be, squeezed in between these two boys, ready to ruin you while the biggest party on campus was going down a few feets below. Before you're able to speak Geto offers you a hand "Let's play sugar. You can only win here." The offer was tempting so tempting you took his hand, blushing at Gojo's cheers behind you.

"Talk to us. What do you want sugar ?" Purple eyes grazing upon your almost naked body. It didn't take Gojo much time to slide your dress off you, leaving you in your black laced matching underwear set. Good thing you were wearing that one. "Focus" he ordered. You were laying back on his chest, while he was playing with you bra's clasps. Focus. Focus? Right he asked a question. "I uh... I- don't know.." you muttered, eyes fixed on the white haired boy kissing your pussy through your panties. Having you throb like crazy..

"Mhm a virgin maybe?" He said, studying your look. "No! No.. I have had sex in the past I just.. you know..."

"No we dont. Use your words sugar. 'fore I take them away" he warns. "You're making her wet! Such a needy thing." Gojo adds, taking a break from teasing your pussy though your panties. "When's the last time you got ate?" He asks training his finger up and down your soaked undies. What? How was that relevant ? "I had lunch if that matters ?" It's the way his eyes go wide that makes you wonder what the fuck you just said. "You've never gotten ate before ?Oh I have to be your first" he said shifting behind you to get up. The white haired boy reluctantly move but before he whispered something to Geto that makes him lightly chuckle and say "okay okay"

His face stills between you thighs, you're mesmerizing by his beauty and assurance. The tensions is building up in your stomach "just trust me and relax". You simply nod, trying to put your focus away. Gojo's laying next to you. Kissing your chest, his hand wrapped around you, slowly u doing your bra. "Oh fuck..." He says, flinging the fabric at some end of the room before latching on your nipples. "Ah!" You yelp, feeling his hot tongue rolling over your bud. You close your eyes, too busy relishing in the feeling to bother realizing Geto's sliding off you panties and spreading you thighs far apart. You jolt and moan loudly when he licks a long strip from your pussy to your clit. "Ya like it uh ?" Gojo teases, finally letting your boob free, with a satisfying "pop!". You nod frantically, whatever he's doing he's great at it. So great you start lowly moaning for more. Trying to cover your pathetic whines with your hand "Go on tell him you feel good" Gojo says encouraging you to speak. Your eyes drift over to Geto, teasing your hole with his fingers and sucking your clit. "Ahh... I- I like it, it- ah! Feels nice..." You whine, felling your face heat up.

Geto's eyes stare into yours, and you can feel him smiling against you. "Good girl, see, wasn't so hard" Gojo says, making you return your attention to him. He lands a soft kiss against your lips, not letting you pull away. And you're moaning into the kiss, your chest hovering up and down the faint sound of 'Coming down' by the Weeknd playing downstairs, Geto's fingers stretching your walls open while he licks you down. The squelching sound and feeling sending butterflies to your lower belly. You eventually pull away from Gojo, out of breath. Your legs shuddering, your moans growing louder and louder. "Hmm! 'm cumming! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" You mewl throwing you head back into the pillows. Your body jolting up at each additional suction he makes. He trails kisses up your body, upon your navel, between your breasts, up your neck before settling for your lips. You whine when he pulls away from your dripping cunt Making you crave attention. "What was that sugar ?" He asks caressing your heated cheek. "Felt nice...so nice...wan' more" you shamelessly admit, while still recovering from your high. "Say no more" Gojo says standing between your thighs in an instant.

Fuck it's big. Fucking huge, fully erect. Precum leaking from the tip, veins, lining its girth. "Satoru. Wrap it" Geto says. "Oh yeah" Your eye candy leave and starts searching through the bedside table, taking out a box of condoms. XXL. "Satoru?" You mutter. "Gojo's his last name. Satoru's what close friends and... Special people like you can call him" Geto answers. You nod thoughtfully "is Geto your last name too?" You wonder. "Yeah, but you're gonna have to earn calling me by my name sugar. Be patient you'll get there eventually" . Your cheeks heat at his words, you're being way to confortable for someone who's sprawled out on a bed she's never seen with two men she just met at a party. "Eyes up here sweetie, swallow it all" against your will your eyes drift from Geto's pretty eyes and land on Gojo's- no, Satoru's dick. Fuck are you really about to take all that. Your ex boyfriend was much smaller and frailer that this. "Don't worry darling you can take it" Geto whispers behind your ear, his voice sending butterflies to your stomach.

Satoru's cock nudges your hole, and he slowly pushed his tip in, stealing the words from your mouth, the more he pushed in the more you're feeling hot all over. "Fuck, love me some good tight pussy, you're perfect sweetie" he groans. "So fucking tight s' making me crazy" you whimper at his words, holding for dear life onto Geto's bulky arm. "Ah- are you in?" You babble, feeling your cunt throb around his girth. "Yeah...'bout halfway" he said gathering spit on his thumb and rubbing it messily over your clit. You moan loudly "Arh- shit! S-satoruu!"

His eyes ignore yours and perk up to his mate instead. It happens withing a fraction of a second: Satoru makes head movement. Tilting his head to the right. Geto pins your hands down and before you even have the right to wonder what exactly is happenings his lips crash against yours, his tongue poisoning your senses. *Thrust* your eyes open with, a thunder sensation runs up your spine before your stomach starts burning and you pussy raining. Your eyes roll back and fill with salty water, while you whine, whimper and mewl breathlessly into the kiss. Your pussy fluttering around his girthy cock.

Geto finally lets go of your lips, a string of saliva connecting both of you. Again you're mesmerized by his purple eyes. Until another thrust punches through you. Making your eyes close shut. You gather up strength to get on your elbow. "Satoru! Satoruuu" you whine and purr. "Feeeels too good, wanna cum 'gain" you pout feeling your brain disconnect. It's all you can think about right now. His thick cock stuffing you full, occupying you, fucking the breath in and out of you. "Anything for this thigh ass pussy don't mind be breaking you" he says. His hand grabs your hips but he doesn't thrust anymore, no. He drags your body over and over again on his cock, grunting over your high pitched moans. Fuck his dick was good. Good as fuck it got you screaming shamelessly. "Fuck i'd drown in this pussy anyway sweetie! Fucking tight!" He grunted switching to rutting his hips into onto your ass.

You couldn't be more grateful for the loud music playing downstairs, you had to thank Megan thee Stallion for covering the lewd pornographic sounds you both were making. Your pussy clammed him down, throbbing relentlessly around him. "Go on baby cum some more on my cock" he purred, watching your eyes flutter and chest hover up and down. His hips slam into yours exactly two more times to send you over the edge. Two thrust stretching your pussy to its maximum entent. Your voice rang against the room's walls " 'toru! 'toru! Cumming!" You cry, unfolding on him, a white sticky substance now covering the condom he wore. Inside and out, he grunts and moans over you "Mhm! fucking milking me out huh ?" He pulls out, letting the euphoric feeling wash over you.

You feel silly, so silly you want more, you miss his cock, you want more so much more. Your eyes wander off to Geto, who's eyes are fixated upon the lower part of your body. "How d'you feel doll?" He asks, his arms wrapping around your back to lift you up on your knees. Your teary eyes land back on his, how you missed them. His soft concerned look. "Arh- I wan' more" you're basically just giving out your ability to walk. That's probably not the best of ideas.

He chuckles lightly, " if that's what you wish...turn around sugar." Fuck it you can't get enough. You lay on the bed facing it's end, you can't know for sure but by the sound of it he'd putting on a condom. In the meantime you gawk at the sight of Satoru pumping his ,now, hard again, cock right in front of your face, you're on the verge of reaching over, drooling and all when you feel Geto's pressing your back into the mattress, locking both your wrists with his one hand.

You whine at the loss of your eye candy. But soon totally forget about it, well maybe not totally but there's another dick on your mind in the moment. He slips in with less effort than Satoru had to use. Still his girth is spreading you apart. "Fuckkkk, so tight, just like that squeeze me good sugar" he grunts, fucking you into the mattress. You're blabbing and whimpering pathetically and he pull you up, with a hand on your lower back making you arch, thrusting into you like a maniac, making your ass bounce repeatedly, "Fuck, so fucking good sugar, 'm never letting you go. Stay like this." He orders through his ragged breathing. His hand slides up front and you know, his fingers attack your clit, you accidentally lean forward. Only slightly but it's enough to have his cock fucking you in all the right spots, "Ah! Geto! F-fuckkkkk s'deep soo— deep!" You coo and mewl, it's barely descriptible, like the tip of his cock was stuffed so deep in you, so fucking far you wondered if it was actually hitting your cervix. Where was all that biology knowledge? "Ah- fffuck I know, I know sugar" He's dragging his cock so far up your cunt, thrusting so hard it vibrated within your entire core.

Your eyes brim with tears. You're barely coherent in your thoughts and words. "Ahh! Geto! Geto! Geto— Mmph!!" You cry out, trying to get his attention. His cock thrusting deeper and deeper at a mind breaking pace. "S-satoruu! Tell him to be n-nice puh- please" you beg tugging on the boy's arm. "Calling out his name while I'm fucking you ? What a slut. Open your mouth." You might have been getting fucked stupid you knew not to ignore his orders. Your lips parted, offering the perfect opening for Satoru to thrust his aching cock into "Repeat after me slut, Su-gu-ru". Fuck you try, try to think and act. Act quick. Satoru's cock filling your mouth, deepthroating you, till you're gagging and choking. Suguru fucking your slick pussy like there's no tomorrow. "Shu guwu mhm!" You whine around Gojo cock, using your tongue to play around his shaft. Making him grunt your name. Youre slowly losing your mind.

A faint ringing sound in the background, not enough to get your attention but enough to attract theirs. You only realize when the white haired boy walk off in direction of the noise, leaving you mouth hanging empty. He returns and points a phone in your face and it takes a few seconds for you to collect your thoughts and read. Fuck, Fuck it's your friend but fuck it feels good

"mhm ? Pick it up" Suguru whines behind you. Roughly slamming his hip into you. "Huh nah! Fuck!" You're done for. The white haired boy display a mischievous smile before tapping the green pick up icon. "Girl ??! Where are you ??" You hear ringing through the phone. You stay quiet. As best as you can pleading Satoru with your eyes. 'Please hang up' you think but he only smiles and plants a kiss on your lips. "Hellooo ???" Your friend says. Suguru's hand wraps around your neck pulling you up close to him. "Speak" your eyes roll back. You're so fucking close. Shit. The boy in front of you kneels on the edge of the bed before his hand slide down between your legs starting to toy with your bud, circling and pressing his thumb over the bud. "Fucking speak" he orders. To think you had called them nice boys few hours ago. You wrap your arms over Satoru's shoulders for support when Suguru's hand leaves your neck to pinch your nipple. "

"Sugu! Sugu! Suguru! Ah! F-fuckkkkk Suguru you're the best! Y-yes the b-best" you cry out. Your orgasm winding you out. Fat tears sliding down your face. Huda beauty setting power and Charlotte tilbury meeting spray might be very good at keeping makeup intact, it was powerless face with this much face fucking, kissing and overall destroying.

Forgetting the jealous man in front of you watching you get fucked like he disappeared. Satoru grabs ahold of jaw. Using his finger to tap on your cheek. "The best huh ? Open that cock sleeve of a mouth for me, slut." Shit. "ahh I'll call you l-later 'm busy" you say as normally as you could. It's not like you just came on the phone. *Bip* He hangs up. And now it just the three of you again.

"Ahh!! I'm sowwy— Ngh!" You cry out. Another spank hitting your already sore ass. Suguru's spanking you like a mad man making you huff and hiccup relentlessly. You can't tell how you feel, the line between pain and pleasure being blurred. "How many times did we have to fucking tell you before you spoke ? Slut" Satoru gripping your hair to shove himself deeper down your throat. Fuck

It's Suguru first. His thrust turn erratic and he's groaning so much. "My pussy to fuck, Mine, 'gon f-fuck you today, tomorrow and every-fucking-day" he grunts, shoving himself into you one more time, before his long strings of cum are stopped by his condom and he bottoms out. Still he's not done. While you're too focused on giving your best head in stock to Satoru he takes off his condom and throws it away. He lays between you legs, his arms wrapping around your thighs to make you sit on his face and again he's licking long strips of your cum, soiling his chin. Making you whine out of surprise around Satoru's dick, sending shivers down his spine and a cum load down your throat.

"F-fuck it sweetie, don't swallow yet, let me see all'at" you're mewling and brainlessly lagging in your actions, involuntarily riding Suguru's face your tongue lolling out, white sticky strings adorning your mouth. "So good!! Mhm ahhh!! " You moan. And *click!* A nice pic of the three of you having fun added to your photo gallery. You're to busy cumming hard on Suguru's tongue to care. You stretch your arm to Satoru, sticking your tongue out and it's barely a second before he's holding your chin "Swallow it." And like clockwork you do. And using that same clock your thighs shudder around Suguru's face, your toes are curling and you're making the lewdest face at Satoru, sending the blood straight to his dick. "My turn sweetie"

Visibly you were right when you said the night would be hard.

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alltheirdamn · 1 month ago

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Diamond Dolls | Joel x stripper!f!reader

Chapter I : Diamond Dolls Club

Series Summary: Running from the past led you straight into the arms of club owner, Joel Miller. He’s quiet, respectful, and devastatingly handsome. He’s nothing like any man you’ve come across, and it’s so hard to keep your heart guarded when he’s tearing down the walls. Chapter Summary: After fleeing Miami, you find yourself a spot at Diamond Dolls, and meet Joel Miller. The man who can change everything. Rating: 18+ Word Count: 7.2k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, Joel is in his early 40s reader is in her mid-20s, mentions of alcohol, strip club setting, nudity, sexual tension, mutual pining, eventual smut, explicit language… more tags will be added as the story goes A/N: Well, a very belated hello to everyone! I've been in the darkest recesses of a writers block, and had to drag myself to the surface to finally finish this one out. It's a slow start, but it's something nonetheless. Anyway, love you all lots and i hope you stick around for this lil story <3 xoxo

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

One week ago

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. You were holed up in the bathroom of a shady hotel, listening to the sound of pleasured moans coming from the bedroom. Your friend, Diana, had been going at it with some stranger for the last half hour, and you were scared. Private parties were typical for the dancers. In fact, Richie loved it. He loved being the type of owner who showcased all his dancers in whatever way he pleased. But you knew something was off when you stepped out of the black Escalade and into the hotel lobby. This type of party differed from the rest; you had this nagging feeling it would all go wrong.

And it did.

The sound of heels rattling inside your bag drifted through the empty parking lot as you neared your last resort. Diamond Dolls. Your gas tank—and lack of money—only got you as far as Austin, Texas. It wasn’t an ideal place to end up, but beggars can’t be choosers, so it would have to suffice.

It was early afternoon, no doubt the slowest time of day since only a handful of cars were parked in the lot aside from yours. With the sun still shining, the neon pink lights of the sign above the door were turned off, but it still looked inviting. Diamond Dolls was already far different than your club back in Miami; it was different in a good way.

At least, you hoped it was.

Cracking open the front door, you shuffled your bag over your shoulder and took a deep breath. This was your only shot at putting your life back on track, and you prayed you’d be given the chance to set things right. You couldn’t go back to Miami. Not now…not ever. The bridges you burnt could never be rebuilt; running away would only take you so far.

A few patrons turned their heads your way when the sun streamed through the hazy club, no doubt an annoying reminder that the world still existed outside this tiny place. The entire club was drenched in low neon blacklights, the purple and pink hues painting the shadows in a sultry ambiance. Above you, diamond chandeliers hung from the ceiling, twinkling lights refracting off the gems that clung to the metal branches curving upward. The black leather couches around the stage were shiny and clean, another sign that this club was far better than where you came from.

High-top tables scattered the open areas in the club's corner, tiny tea lights flickering on their marbled counters. Everything was meticulously detailed, as if whoever owned it had put all their effort into making this space unique and beautiful.

Across the back was the bar; the counter stretched from end to end with an array of liquors stacked on glass shelves that hung from the wall. Behind the counter was a lone bartender busying himself with cleaning glasses.

Perfect, you thought. This was your opportunity.

“Hey,” you cautioned, walking up to the black countertop. “I was wondering if you guys are taking in any new dancers.”

“Can’t say for sure,” the bartender shrugged.

He had a snug black top stretched across his chest and dirty blonde hair that stuck back along his scalp with too much gel. A few tattoos marked up his forearms, disappearing under the cuffs of his shirt and reappearing along the column of his neck. Instinctively, you knew he was well paid by any female clients who came into the club late at night. A few drinks and maybe a few flirtatious conversations made him a wealthy man by the end of his shifts.

“Who should I be asking then?” You questioned, tapping your nails along the edge of the counter.

The bartender glared at your nails as they tapped repeatedly on the counter. You retracted your hand with an apologetic look, letting your arm hang heavy at your side. He bristled at your presence, obviously unamused by your friendly antics. Charm wouldn’t work here…noted.

“Joel’s up in his office. Why don’t y’go bother him.”

“Joel…” You echoed.

“The owner?” He cocked a brow, almost annoyed that you didn’t know who Joel was.

Obviously, you didn’t fucking know.

“Gotcha,” you nodded.

The bartender slung the drying rag over his shoulder, retiring the glass he had been cleaning to the other stack of dishes. He pointed down the hall near the stage toward the black-painted door to the right.

“You’ll find him in there,” he said.

You muttered a quick thank you before walking down the hall and past wandering eyes. Smoothing down your hair, you inhaled sharply before rapping your knuckles against the door.

“Come in!” A deep voice called out.

You timidly turned the doorknob, peeking your head around the door with a sheepish smile. An older man, probably no more than forty, leaned back in a leather chair. He had on a simple black button-up, the sleeves rolled up his tan arms, exposing the muscles and veins that spidered from his fingers to his biceps. You lifted your eyes to his face, brown scruff covering his jaw, small patches of gray threading through the wiry hair. His plush lips curved into a slight grin, his bottom one plush and pouty—a very dangerous thing to see when you realized he could potentially be your new boss.

“How can I help you?” He asked, clearing his throat.

Your eyes shot up to his, immediately pulled under the dark brown waves that swam through his irises. You expected the club owner to be less appealing, maybe even a bit sleazy, given your track record of who you’ve met in the business. You didn’t expect him to be this attractive.

You stepped over the threshold, unsure if you should shut the door behind you. You didn’t know Joel, nor could you trust him to be different from the other men you had encountered over the years. Despite your weariness, he motioned for you to shut the door and extended a hand toward the chair in front of his desk.

“I was, um, wondering if you were taking any new dancers?”

You didn’t mean to word it like a question, but your uncertainty got the best of you.

“Might be. Y’from here?” Joel asked, his southern drawl thick with each syllable.

You slid down into the chair, letting your bag drop to the ground by your feet. Joel tracked your movements, watching you squirm under his heavy stare while he waited for your response.

“Miami, actually. Just drove in this morning.”

“What brings ya’ to the Lone Star State?” He asked, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

“Family,” you lied a little too quickly.

Everything about being a dancer was a lie, and you weren’t about to change your ways for some owner you didn’t know. Joel stretched his arms over his head, his biceps flexing as he interlocked his fingers behind his neck. It should be a crime for someone to be this handsome; clearly, he knew what you were thinking because his lips twitched with an amused grin.

“Y’got experience in a club?”

“Yep,” you nodded. “Worked at my last one for three years.”

Joel’s eyes raked over you, lingering on your glossy lips and finally trailing back up to your eyes. Your skin flushed under his stare, your ears burning the longer he drank you in with slow, deliberate passes over your body as you crossed and uncrossed your legs behind the shield of his wooden desk.

“I’m assuming you’ll want to see me dance,” you said, filling the dead air between you.

“Not necessary.”

You stared at your hands in your lap, crestfallen. This had been your last resort, and you were down on your luck now. You barely had a hundred dollars in cash left in your wallet, and you told yourself it was for emergencies only. You weren’t even sure it was enough to cover more than a night's stay in a motel somewhere in town. There wasn’t anyone you could call. There was nowhere else to go.

A soft creak of his chair stirred you from your swirling thoughts, and you looked up to see Joel bracing his elbows on the desk. He was so much closer now, his age materializing into something softer as he studied you. Worry lines creased his forehead, smoothing out around his temples where his brown hair curled behind his ears. Even if this meeting was all for nothing, at least you got to enjoy a small glimmer of hope dressed as a beautiful Southern gentleman. You reached for your bag, ready to beeline it out the door and back to your car before you could make any more of a fool of yourself.

“I don’t need an audition, sweetheart,” he said softly.

You blinked up at him, both confused and hurt. He didn’t need to kick you while you were already down; he made it very clear you weren’t getting a spot in the club. You lifted your bag into your lap, shoving the chair back hard enough to make the legs scrape against the floor.

“I appreciate you taking the time to meet me. Have a good day.”

The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth, and they didn’t sound much better either, but you didn’t care. There was nothing for you here, and you needed to search for a place to stay before the day slipped away. Clinging to whatever dignity—and hope—you had left, you turned for the door without another glance over your shoulder.

“Wait.”

Joel’s voice radiated through the room as your hand hovered over the door handle. You half-considered dismissing him and continuing with your hopeless day, but a nagging voice inside your head told you to stay. Steeling your emotions, you turned to him with your arms folded over your chest.

“Come back at nine. You’ll be on stage tonight,” he offered, rising from his seat.

“What?” You balked. “You just told me you didn’t want to see me audition.”

Joel shoved his hands in the front pockets of his dress pants, his shoulders lifting slightly with a shrug. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and shove you out the door. But there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm in his tone nor a look of deception in his soft eyes.

“I never ask my girls to audition,” he explained.

“Why? What if I’m bullshitting you?”

“I’ll find out if you are, but I got a feelin’ you won’t let me down.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you tonight.”

Joel dipped his head toward you, his lips curving at the corners under his thick mustache. You were in deep shit, knowing you’d get to see that warm smile every day. With nothing left to say, you muttered another thank you and opened the door, disappearing into the hallway before he could retract his offer.

An upbeat tempo thrummed through the air as you passed by the stage, and you took a quick peek at the girl spinning on the pole, her blonde hair falling in a cascade of curls down her bare spine. The handful of patrons you had spotted coming into the club were now crowded around the stage, enthralled in her body as she moved to the rhythm of the music. Crisp dollar bills scattered the glass stage, falling at her feet as she lowered herself onto her knees. Your steps faltered as her eyes connected with yours, a friendly smile ghosting over her face before she returned to her routine. Digging through your bag, you reached for your wallet and dished out a couple of bills to toss onto the stage. It wasn’t much, and you knew better than to lessen your savings, but it was enough to show your respect for her hustle. She understood this life as much as you did.

You spent the better part of the afternoon driving around the city, familiarizing yourself with the sidestreets and small shops you would come to frequent. There hadn’t been much luck finding a place to stay for the night, but you hoped you’d have enough money after your shift to afford a room, at least for the weekend. You were more than ready to sleep anywhere that wasn’t your car and even more ready to have cash in your pockets again.

Anxious to start your first shift, you circled back to the club much earlier than Joel had asked. The sun was barely kissing the horizon as you put your car in park, the neon lights above the building flickering to life as the night swallowed the sky. You were two hours too early, but you didn’t want to wait any longer. You wanted to be on the stage now.

Searching through the bags of your belongings stuffed in the trunk of your car, you found your pile of club outfits and began piecing together different options to wear for the evenings. You laid out a matching pink lingerie set, the bra entirely rhinestoned in refractive colored jewels. It had done numbers on stage, a perfect outfit for making first impressions. You scoured for one more set—a just-in-case outfit—and found a thin, black lace teddy at the bottom of the pile. You could pair it with your taller heels and use it as your outfit for your second dance on stage. If you got that far. Everything else looked unappealing, but you’d have time and money to shop during the weekend for new clothes. New everything, if you were being honest. You were starting from the ground up in Austin.

As you tucked your clothes in your bag, you heard the sound of car keys jingling behind you. It was instinct to tense up at any noise in a parking lot, and your defenses were always up to foreign noises. Spinning quickly toward the sound, you came face to face with the same blonde you had seen on stage earlier in the day.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you!” She apologized.

“No, it’s okay,” you assured her, releasing a shaky breath.

She was wearing an oversized shirt and gym shorts, her feet stuffed in a pair of fuzzy blue slippers. With her hair pinned up and most of her makeup wiped off, you knew her shift was over.

“You must be the new girl Joel told us about. I’m Monica.”

She extended a hand toward you, and you quickly introduced yourself.

“Sorry, I probably look like a mess. I just got in today.”

Monica looked over your shoulder into the trunk of your car, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the mess. Everything left of your life was stuffed into only a few bags; it was embarrassing, to say the least.

“Do you have family in town you’re staying with?” She asked.

“I do,” you lied. “I just haven’t had time to stop by yet and drop my things off.”

Monica looked between you and your car, skepticism crossing over her features. Dancers were great at lying but even better at discovering one. She saw through you in less than a minute.

“Let me give you my number,” she offered, pulling her phone from her purse. “When you’re done for the night, just call me. I’ve got an extra room you can crash in for a couple of nights if you need it.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. That’s, um, that’s way too kind of you,” you stammered.

She bristled at your words, shoving her phone in your hands to exchange numbers. You typed with shaking hands, the numbers mixing up as you deleted and retyped repeatedly. Handing the phone back to her, you waited for a text to ping through the air, and it did.

You made your first friend in the new town and only hoped things wouldn’t end like they did in Miami.

“There’s plenty of girls still here for the night,” she started. “They’ll set you up in the dressing room and make sure you’re taken care of tonight. If anyone gives you hell, just tell them Monica’s looking out for you, and I’ll set them straight.”

You laughed softly at her gentle threat. You weren’t expecting such hospitality so quickly, but it was refreshing to know someone cared about you. After a few more minutes of casual conversation, she parted ways for the evening, and you were left standing in front of the neon lights beckoning you inside.

Showtime.

The crowd inside the club had doubled since you had left earlier in the afternoon; the couches and bar tops were littered with groups of men and women all drinking high-priced drinks and shadowed in plumes of smoke. Three bartenders worked behind the counter, their routine flowing together as they worked in tandem, taking orders and making drinks.

As you walked down the hallway by the stage, you noticed Joel’s door shut to the club. It confused you since the club was ramping up for the night; owners were usually out mingling with customers and dancers. You considered knocking on the door and thanking him again, but the thought passed just as quickly as it came, and you found your way to the dressing room.

The room's bright lights were stark in contrast to the rest of the club, and you had to squint your eyes to adjust to the sudden change. Only two girls occupied the room, working on their hair in front of the vanity. The second you entered their eyesight, they turned with wide grins.

“You’re the new girl!” One squealed, her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders as she ran up to you.

She quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, her heavy vanilla perfume floating around her body and onto yours.

“I’m Heather,” she said, pulling away. “And that’s Carolina.”

She gestured back to the other brunette, who gave you a shy wave. She was shorter than Heather, her hair cut into a sharp bob and streaked with caramel highlights. You waved back, introducing yourself to them both. Heather bounced back to the vanity, moving her array of makeup to the side to make room for your things.

“There are open lockers to the side over there, so feel free to stash away anything you need,” she explained. “If you need a curling iron or hairspray, you can always grab mine. And Carolina has extra body glitter, too, but I’m guessing you have your own.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some in my bag, but thank you. You guys are really sweet.”

You sat next to Carolina, dumping your makeup bag on the counter. Carolina worked at fixing her black nipple pasties, both of them on display under her sheer red bra. Her curves filled out her mini-skirt, the red material matching both her bra and Pleaser heels. She was fiery; you liked that.

“Joel said you’re from Miami,” Heather started. “This has got to be way less exciting than your old club, huh?”

You tensed up at her question, deciding on what to divulge. Heather and Carolina were sweet, but they were still strangers, and after last week…your guard was higher than ever. Pulling out your foundation and eyeshadow, you quickly started your makeup routine, dodging any invasive questions they tried to ask.

“How long have you both been working here?” You asked, flipping the focus onto them.

Heather fluffed her hair in the mirror, adjusting her purple halter top over her breasts before turning back to you.

“I’ve been here since Joel opened the club, so almost five years,” she stated.

“And I’ve been here for a little over a year,” Carolina said beside you.

“How is Joel?” You asked. “As an owner.”

Heather and Carolina let out a little giggle, clearly something private between them that went unsaid in response to your question.

“We like to say he’s like a recluse,” Carolina explained. “He hardly ever comes around during business hours. He just stays quiet and tucked away in his office. We pay him house fees at the end of our shift, and he leaves us alone.”

That piqued your interest. How could a club owner be so hands-off? Or maybe this was normal, and everything you had experienced in Miami was incredibly unprofessional. It was unprofessional, but you only assumed parts of it were like having your boss pimp you and other girls out for drugs and money.

“Isn’t that weird, though? I mean, most club owners don’t do that. They’re usually—.”

“Creepy and a bit unsettling?” Heather offered.

You nodded slowly, focusing on yourself in the mirror as you lined your lips with a pink lip liner.

“Joel isn’t like that, I promise you. He’s probably the most respectful man I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t even think he’s seen our tits,” Carolina giggled. “I can’t even tell you the last time I saw him outside his office during a shift.”

You shuffled off the vanity chair, returning to your bag to pull out your first outfit. As you peeled your shirt off, you mused over their casual information on Joel. You couldn’t make sense of it; how was Joel real? He must be too good to be true. He had to be.

“But how does he know what’s going on around here?” You pressed.

“His brother, Tommy, comes around, checks in on us, and reports to Joel if there’s anything worth knowing,” Heather shrugged.

“That’s it?”

“Yep!” Both of them said in unison.

Carolina strolled to one of the lockers behind you, retrieving a red garter from her back to tie around her ankle. You eyed her as she tightened the straps of her heels and adjusted her bra one last time. As she flounced to the door, she looked over her shoulder and gave you a slight wink.

“You’ll be just fine here, doll. I promise.”

The moment your heels clicked against the glass floor of the stage, everything in your mind turned off. You gave the DJ— Bradley, call me Brad, doll— your music of choice before stepping onto the stage: a slow, sensual track that made the crowd turn their heads in curiosity. Until then, Heather and Carolina had taken turns onstage doing routines to high-tempo songs, keeping the crowd engaged and rowdy. But that wasn’t your forte.

You started things slowly, wrapping your hand around the pole and teasing the crowd with meticulous movements of your body that swayed to the beat of the music. Your fingers teased the outline of your breasts, cupping them seductively as you made eye contact with a few men sitting near the edge of the stage. Their undivided attention on your body was exhilarating; the promise of money dropping at your feet was enough to keep you going. Hooking your leg around the pool, you pulled yourself up, spinning in gentle turns as you flowed with the music. Everything you did was unrushed, and you took your time commanding the stage.

Eventually, the tips started piling up on the stage. More clients drew closer, their eyes hungry and watchful. You slid onto your knees, crawling toward a younger man who hovered by the side of the stage, his button-up shirt disheveled and wrinkled—no doubt from a private dance he paid for only an hour ago. You graced him with an inviting smile, swaying your ass back and forth behind you.

“Hi, beautiful,” he crooned, his voice barely audible above the thrum of the music.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you replied.

You knew how to bait them and make them chase after you. The thrill of it all was intoxicating, like the world was a blur around you, and all that existed was just the stage, the money, and your ability to make men crumble at your feet. Dragging yourself onto your knees, you coasted a hand down your abdomen, grinning as he tracked your fingers as they dipped over your navel. The money roll in his hand caught your attention, but you refrained from staring too long. Eye contact was crucial—if you kept him reeled in, the money would come to you.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” You asked, breathless.

“More than you know.”

He curled a finger, beckoning you closer. You didn’t like when clients reached for you, but you saw the crisp fifty-dollar bill hiding in his palm. Like a moth to a flame, you drew closer to the edge of the stage, letting his fingers work at the waistband of your thong. He didn’t prod or explore; his touch was respectful and gentle. Blowing him a kiss, you tucked the money under the thin fabric before returning to the center of the stage to finish your set.

The music drifted to an end, the applause from the crowd around the stage rippling above the sound as the DJ returned to his playlist of choice. You gathered the tips off the stage floor, stuffing them into your moneybag as you left your set.

For some strange reason, you were disappointed to see Joel’s office door shut off to the club despite Heather and Carolina’s words. You understood he didn’t come out during business hours, but part of you wished he had watched your first routine. Wasn’t he curious? And why did you care to have him watch you perform? It wasn’t like you were trying to impress him…Okay, maybe you were…

Passing the DJ booth, Brad gave you a proud smile and a small congratulations. You hurried back into the dressing room, frantic to change into your next outfit. Heather lounged along the benches in front of the locker, her nails tapping against her phone screen as she typed furiously.

“Ugh!” She exhaled. “Men suck.”

You giggled as you plopped beside her, enjoying the simple camaraderie of being in another sisterhood with other dancers. You missed your girls in Miami, but that wouldn’t stop you from making new friends. And from what you’d already experienced in your short few hours at Diamond Dolls, these girls were genuine and caring.

“Who’s the guy?” You asked.

“His name is Michael. We’ve been seeing each other on and off the past year, and he’s just… I don’t know. I feel like I give all my time and energy and get nothing in return. You know what I mean?”

“I do.”

You knew it too well. You had never been lucky in relationships; they were messy, and it was hard to come across a man who truly understood your field of work. Some of them loved the idea of having someone overly sexualized and, in their words, slutty. They considered every stripper to be the stereotypical version of a woman, all glitz and glam and naked on display. You were more than that, but none stuck around long enough to find out.

“Can I give you some advice?” You offered.

Heather stopped her typing, giving you her full attention.

“Men don’t deserve shit. If he’s not going to give his time and dedication to you, then he doesn’t deserve an ounce of your respect. You’re worth more than that. You deserve someone who will treat you like a queen.”

“Those types of men don’t exist,” she laughed. “They’re all sleazy and just want their dick wet.”

“I don’t know. I think there could be some good ones out there.”

Unwanted images of Joel flashed through your mind. There was no way you actually were thinking of him in this setting. You knew nothing about him or the type of man he was, so you couldn’t let your mind wander to the thought of him as a love interest, nor did you want that. He was a stranger and your boss.

“Well, if you find one, send him my way.”

“Absolutely,” you smiled.

As you both sat in comfortable silence, you worked at sorting through your wad of cash from your set. Smoothing out the bills and organizing them, you counted out over two hundred dollars. Not the best for your first routine in the club, but it was more than you had walked in with. And it was enough to hopefully find a place to stay over the weekend. However, Monica’s offer still remained in the back of your head.

It was well past three AM when you decided to call it quits for the night. After two more sets on stage, you collected another four hundred dollars, leaving you satisfied for your first shift. Clients were generous, and the atmosphere inside the club was intoxicating. You wanted more, but you wouldn’t be greedy. Not yet, at least.

After peeling off your clothes and replacing them with the sweats you had walked in with, you said your goodbyes to the girls and made your way to Joel’s office. A flight of butterflies swarmed in your stomach as your hand wavered over the door. Why did he make you so nervous? You were never nervous around men; you were usually quite the opposite. But Joel…You couldn’t get a read on him. You didn’t know what to expect, which made it so much worse.

“Hi,” you said quietly, softly cracking the door open.

You peered into the office, spotting Joel hunched over the desk, rifling through some papers. He glanced up quickly, his eyes shifting back down to the papers…Then, immediately right back up to you. You didn’t miss how his gaze drifted down your body, the hunger flickering to life behind his irises. You were in nothing more than a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but you might as well have been naked with the way he undressed you with his heavy stare.

Your name fell softly from his lips, his mouth curving up in that same grin you melted over earlier.

“Heard you were the star of the show tonight,” he smiled.

“I don’t know about that,” you laughed.

Sliding into the office, you shut the door behind you, leaving only a few feet of space between you and Joel’s large frame. Somehow, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, his gravity pulling you forward.

“No need to be modest, sweetheart. Everyone was talkin’ ‘bout you out there.”

“How do you know that? The girls told me you stay in here all night.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. He wore that snug black button-up, and the soft material still deliciously clung to his muscles. His biceps flexed under the shirt, and you trained your eyes on him to keep the temptation of looking at bay.

“Don’t worry, I hear everythin’ inside this club. Got eyes and ears everywhere.”

“How’d you get into the business?”

“That’s a story for another time, sweetheart. It’s late, and I’m sure y’wanna get home,” he chuckled.

A mystery. That's what Joel was: an absolute mystery. You couldn’t dig under his walls, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let him dig under yours. If he kept his life close to his chest, then you’d do the same.

“What’s your price for house fees?” You asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Flat rate of twenty dollars. You can tip out the bartenders and Brad if y’want, but I pay them well enough that y’don’t have to worry ‘bout it.”

“Twenty?” You gaped.

His brows furrowed together, trying to understand your shock. You pulled a twenty from your money bag and walked toward his desk to slide it to him.

“They charge you less in Miami?” He questioned, reluctant to take the money.

“No, it’s not that. They charged a lot more…Like over a hundred some nights.”

It was Joel’s turn to stare at you dumbfounded; his lips parted in confusion. Wasn’t it normal for house fees to be that high? Or had you been lied to all these years?

“You’re fuckin’ with me, right?”

“I swear I’m not. That’s what the club owner charged us down there.”

Joel ran a hand down his face, his eyes squeezing shut. You swayed awkwardly, your fingers digging into the material of your money bag.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologized. “Didn’t mean to cuss at you like that. Just surprised me, that’s all.”

“It’s okay,” you replied quietly.

“M’gonna take real good care of you here, ‘kay?”

His words shouldn’t have affected you, but heat crawled up your neck as you tossed his words over inside your head. Once again, Joel was proving to be far different than what you were used to back in Miami, but you wouldn’t let yourself overthink it.

“Thank you, Joel. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t gotta thank me none, sweetheart. Y’get home safe. I’m sure your family will be happy to see you.”

You cringed at the statement, another reminder of the web of lies you were already weaving. You’d tell him the truth eventually, or maybe not at all. You wouldn’t jeopardize your chance at a new life here.

Joel’s eyes did one final pass over your body, and your anxiety nearly drove you right into the door when you turned to leave. He needed to stop looking at you like that. You didn’t need any more fuel to the fire burning inside your stomach.

You spent far too long hovering your finger over Monica’s contact information, debating whether or not to take up her offer of a place to stay. You had enough money for a hotel room, but the idea of saving it and tucking it away sounded more appealing. You didn’t know Monica— or any of these girls— but her willingness to help you earlier proved how loyal these dancers were to one another.

Dialing her number, you tapped your fingers against your steering wheel, watching through your dirty windshield as patrons filed out for the night. You wondered which of these cars belonged to Joel and promptly stopped yourself from wondering about anything else. Why was every thought beginning and ending with him?

“Hello?”

“Hi, uh… Monica?” You reintroduced yourself, stumbling over your words like it was your first time speaking.

“Look who made it out alive in her first shift!” She said cheerily. “I’ll shoot you my address, and you can drive over. I’ve already got the guest bedroom set up for you.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude on you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! You’re not intruding at all, honey. I’ve got the house to myself this weekend and could use the company.”

“I really appreciate it, Monica. Thank you.”

The city was nothing like Miami at night; the streets were empty, and the air was silent and calm. You kept the volume low on the radio as you drove to Monica’s house, enjoying the sound of the breeze as it drifted through the crack in your window. You focused on learning the street names as you passed every intersection, replacing the thoughts of Joel’s warm smile with things that would prove to be more important to you. But the memory of his eyes and smile still lurked in your mind, and no matter how many green lights you sped through, you couldn’t escape it.

Monica’s home was tucked away in a residential neighborhood nearly half an hour outside the city, her tiny home the only one with a porch light still flickering under the dark sky.

You barely opened your trunk when you heard Monica’s voice trailing down the driveway.

“Hi!” She squealed.

You turned to find her bounding down the pavement barefoot, her blonde hair tousled into a high ponytail and her pajamas hugging her curves. Setting your bag on the ground, you emptied your arms to welcome her into a hug, which should have felt awkward given you had hardly known her less than a full day, but with Monica…It felt normal.

“Thank you again,” you exhaled, your body slumping into her tight embrace.

“Oh, don’t even mention it. My ex has the kids this weekend, so the place is extra lonely.”

“You’ve got kids?” You asked.

It wasn’t an accusatory question; you had danced alongside several women who were single moms supporting their children. Not to mention, Monica looked way too young to have kids, let alone more than one.

“I’ve got two,” she explained with a tired smile. “Twins, actually. Jackson and Luke. They just turned three in June.”

You shuffled your overnight bag over your arm while Monica led the way to the front door. The moment she opened the door, you were welcomed into a very lived-in home. Kid's toys littered the ground, while mismatched socks and shoes lay around in other spots. You smiled to yourself, seeing such a cozy place; you missed being in a home. Living in shady apartments and hotels left you bitter and yearning for somewhere to call home.

“Sorry it’s such a mess,” she laughed absentmindedly. “The boys tend to destroy any clean area in the house.”

“You don’t have to apologize at all. I love it.”

She glanced back at you, quirking an eyebrow at your statement. It was true; you did love it. And you loved being welcomed into a home without feeling like a total burden. Monica gave you a small tour of the house before guiding you down the hall to the guest room. It was set up with a queen-sized bed and a small vanity in the corner—perfect for a night or two to get you back on your feet.

Once settled in, you returned to the living room, where Monica was lying on the couch.

“Thank you so much again,” you said, collapsing into the cushions.

“Of course, girl. I tend to be the motherly one out of the group, so if you ever need anything, you can always come to me. How was the first night?”

You stretched your legs out along the sectional, burrowing further into the pillows as you let your body unwind. Monica mimicked your movements, curling up under the small blanket draped over her body.

“I didn’t know what to expect,” you admitted. “Being in a new club is always scary, you know? But everyone has been so welcoming, and the customers are great. And Joel is…” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“Joel is what?” Monica pressed, giggling slightly.

“He’s amazing. I’ve never met a club owner like him. He really cares about all of you girls, and it shows. I’m not used to that.”

“You had it bad out there in Miami, huh?”

You shifted slightly, trying to mask your unease with the question. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Monica; she hadn’t given you a reason yet not to, but the question was too fresh to answer. Glimpses of that night suspended themselves in your head, moments you couldn’t shake and only hoped you’d never have to relive. Everything you saw… everything you did… you wanted to forget.

“Is it alright if we don’t talk about it?” You asked, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap.

“Of course, honey,” Monica said softly. “Whatever happened out there, just know it’s in the past, and you’re okay now. You’re safe here with me. I’ll take care of you, and so will Joel.”

Joel.

Everything kept circling back to him. He was an enigma dressed in all black with a warm smile and a country twang. You were used to men being nice; they almost always had an ulterior motive for their kindness, but not Joel. His kindness wasn’t self-fulfilling, as far as you knew, and you could see how serious he was about the safety of everyone in the club. Maybe things would turn out differently here; maybe things would be okay.

The early morning sunlight slowly began to seep through the living room curtains as you and Monica fell into endless conversation. Eventually, she mumbled something about needing a few hours of sleep before needing to run errands, and you took it as your sign to retire to bed. As you settled under the covers, you forced your mind away from the wandering thoughts of Miami. It was easy to forget everything that had transpired in the hotel room when you kept yourself busy, but in the silence, there was nowhere to run from the memories.

“Alright, which one of you are we fucking first?” One of the guys asked.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, undoing his belt, as he asked the question. Your stomach rolled with nausea as the realization hit you; Richie had pimped you out. This wasn’t a party; this was a setup. You swayed in the corner of the room, eyeing the door to figure out how to escape without being snatched up by one of the men. But there were too many of them and just the three of you to try and fend for yourselves. What did it matter, though, when your two closest friends were already drugged out of their minds?

You couldn’t have slept more than one or two hours. The sun was too bright inside the bedroom, and your body was coated in a thin sweat as you jolted from the bed. You were safe. You were in Texas. You were at Monica’s house. You repeated those reminders as you rolled out of bed and entered the guest bathroom. The reflection in the mirror felt like a stranger; your eyes puffy and your face pale.

“You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself.

Splashing cold water on your face, you took a few minutes to gather your bearings. The days spent on the road running from Miami were catching up to you, and so was the anxiety that you had kept at bay.

“Hey!” Monica called from somewhere down the hall.

You braced yourself against the bathroom sink, swallowing the startled gasp that threatened to bubble out of your mouth.

“I’m headin’ out to the grocery, so if you want me to grab anything for you, just shoot me a text! I left breakfast on the kitchen counter for whenever you’re hungry,” she continued.

“T–Thank you!” You stuttered.

Dammit, you were okay.

You waited until you heard the sound of the front door closing before emerging from the bathroom. In your slim hours of sleep, Monica had cleaned up the house from the night before. Toys were piled in small bins beside the couch, and the miscellaneous clothes and shoes had disappeared, most likely to their respective places in the laundry or kids' bedroom.

The lingering smell of breakfast led you into the kitchen, where a plate of eggs and bacon sat neatly on the counter. Monica was truly a godsend, and knowing you were in good hands settled some nerves. Settling onto the kitchen barstool, you inhaled the aroma of the plate of food and reached for the fork. Your hand wavered as you spotted a piece of paper tucked under the plate's corner, dainty handwriting scribbling across the note.

In case you need it, here’s Joel’s number.

You stared at the series of numbers before you, your throat dry. Joel. The man that was giving you a second chance at this life you had decided to live. Joel. The man with a kind heart and even kinder eyes. Joel.

The one person who could change everything.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel x stripper!reader #joel miller x stripper!reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au

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corroded-hellfire · 19 days ago

Text

Mad Love - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie goes to visit Dustin at college and meets the Harley Quinn to his Joker at a Halloween party

Note: I had this idea because I needed a good Harley and Joker fix after watching the insane disappointment that was Joker 2.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m receiving, alcohol, Harley and Joker are crazy and so is Eddie so what do you expect

Words: 5k

“The party is where?”

“It’s at a house on the edge of campus.”

“A frat house, Dustin. A frat house. How do you even know these guys?”

Dustin sighs and grabs his deerstalker hat.

“I’m tutoring one of the guys who lives there,” he says.

“And this isn’t just some prank?” Eddie asks, a brow raised in skepticism. “Cool frat bro asks his younger, nerdy tutor to come by his Halloween party?”

The shorter man scoffs and shakes his head.

“Clay is a good guy,” Dustin defends. “You think I wouldn’t have been able to sniff out if he was some douchebag bully by now? My asshole detector is accurate, and you know it.”

“Fine.” Eddie picks his purple blazer up from where he laid it over the back of a chair. He slips his arms into it and adjusts it until it’s comfortable. “The music will probably be shit, though.”

“Look dude,” Dustin says, “you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. You can hang out in my dorm. Or one of the dining halls stays open pretty late. Grab some food.”

“Nope,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. His green-tinted curls sway with the motion. “I drove for hours to see your scrawny ass; I’m not going anywhere. Plus, I love Halloween parties.”

“Exactly how many have you been invited to before?”

“Hey, I provided great party favors in high school. I was a welcome sight for the most part.”

“Doesn’t mean ‘invited’...” Dustin mumbles as he adjusts his Sherlock Holmes cloak.

Eddie hears him anyway and knocks the hat off his friend’s head before grabbing the bag of makeup he brought to complete his costume.

Eddie’s first thought when he walks into the frat party is that it looks exactly like every college movie he’s ever seen. Red solo cups are in almost every hand, with a dozen or so already lost or discarded on the hardwood floor. The music is awful, as predicted, and despite the chilly October air, the room feels muggy because of all the bodies crammed inside.

“I don’t know what half these costumes are supposed to be,” Eddie shouts over the thumping bass.

Dustin shrugs in response and the two of them move farther into the room. The deeper into the crowd they get, and the more he looks around, the happier Eddie becomes that he came. Apparently, most college girls like to go for the “slutty” versions of costumes and Eddie can’t say that he minds one bit. A particular girl in a Princess Leia gold bikini catches his eye, but Dustin grabs his arm and drags him towards the stairs before he can even muster up a witty line to say to her.

“Why the fuck did I dress as a clown?” Eddie murmurs to himself.

“Eddie!” Dustin shouts. “This is Clay!”

The older man’s immediate reaction is that this guy looks like a much taller and less douchey Jason Carver. He doesn’t exude the same sense of superiority and holier-than-thou-ness that the Hawkins High basketball player did.

Clay offers his hand to Eddie with a smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he calls above the music. “Dustin has told me a lot about you.”

Eddie shoots Dustin a smirk, to which the faux Sherlock Holmes rolls his eyes.

“Good to meet you, too,” Eddie says, shaking the man’s hand.

“Keg’s over there,” Clay says, gesturing towards the front corner of the open area, “bathrooms upstairs. Have fun!”

“Thanks, man,” Dustin replies.

Eddie feels like his head is on a swivel, looking in every direction at all the girls around him. He’s pretty sure he’s never been around this many girls in his life.

“Come on, Joker,” Dustin says, patting his friend on the back. “Stop looking over your shoulder like Batman is gonna pop out at any second and let's go get a drink.”

“M’not looking for any man, dude,” Eddie says as they head towards the keg. “Besides, you’re not old enough to drink.”

“Ya know, for a villain, you’re pretty uptight. Especially for one who used to sell drugs.”

Eddie shrugs and swipes up a clean solo cup. He opens his mouth to reply as he takes another step towards the keg, but he’s cut off as he almost bumps into someone also going for the tap.

“Whoa! Sorry there, Puddin’.”

Dark brown eyes go from his own black sneakers to black boots with red laces, scan up one red and one black pant leg, a long sleeve top with the colors on the opposite sides, and up to the prettiest face Eddie’s ever seen—even if there’s a black mask over her eyes. The cherry on top is the black and red jester hat with the small white cotton balls on the ends.

“My apologies, darling,” Eddie croons, sketching a bow. “After you.”

The female clown giggles and shrugs her shoulders coyly.

“Thanks, Mister J.” Her voice is sweet and clear, even above the noise of the party.

Dustin doesn’t need to be dressed as Sherlock Holmes to figure out how Eddie is looking at this girl. The college freshman sees the way his friend’s eyes follow every move she makes as she fills her cup with beer.

“I, uh, see a friend from my chem class,” Dustin says, shooting Eddie a sly smirk. “I’ll leave you clowns to it.”

Eddie nods without really listening, eyes never leaving the red and black dream standing in front of him. Once her cup is filled, she steps aside so her villainous counterpart can take his turn.

“Where you been hiding on me, huh?” Harley asks before taking a sip of her beer. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Then again, I guess the white paint and red lipstick could disguise anyone.”

“I could say the same to you.” Eddie nods to where she’s left a red lipstick stain on the rim of her solo cup.

“Well, I do have to admit that I’m not quite as outgoing when I’m not hiding behind a pound of makeup and a mask.”

“And I have to admit, I don’t actually go to school here.” Eddie winces before taking a large gulp from his own cup.

“It’s my lucky night, then!” She grins and reaches out, a red glove tugging on a purple lapel to bring him in closer. “Not here visiting a girlfriend, I hope?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head as he leans into her space. “Visiting a nerdy freshman that I took under my wing last time he was a freshman.”

“Sherlock Holmes?” Harley asks. She tilts her head to the side and Eddie can’t help but smile at how it adorably skews her hat.

“That’s him.”

“That’s so cute!”

The keg starts to gather a crowd, so the dynamic duo steps out of the way. Unfortunately, it’s closer to a speaker that has the music blaring in their faces.

“Outside?” Harley mouths, hitching her thumb over her shoulder towards the backyard.

Eddie nods and follows his fellow jester out into the crisp autumn night. Partygoers mingle in varying costumes, conversations able to be heard out here even over the thumping bass flooding out from the house. There aren’t any empty chairs or places to sit, so the pair decide to take a lap around the yard.

“What do you study?” Eddie asks as they walk side by side.

“Psychology,” she replies, giving a small dramatic bow that lets the white pom pom balls on the end of her hat shake back and forth.

“Ah,” Eddie says, raising his eyebrows. “Not just Harley Quinn then, we’ve got Dr. Harleen Quinzel herself.”

“In the flesh,” she says with a cheeky shrug of her shoulders. “Or, well, in the clown suit and makeup, anyway. It’s my last year so I figured it’s time to go all out and have fun. Hence the costume.”

“And I just dress like this regularly,” Eddie jokes, adjusting his purple tie with his free hand. “I’m a natural green head, by the way. None of that dyed shit for me. It’s always so obvious when it’s fake.”

“It goes so well with your deathly pale complexion and naturally thick eyelined eyes,” she says, gesturing to his makeup.

“Don’t forget the au naturale blood red lips,” Eddie adds, puckering them for emphasis.

“Who could forget those lips?” Harley’s eyes darken as she speaks, her gaze drifting down to Eddie’s mouth before coming back up to meet his eyes.

“God, it’s freezing out here,” a girl in a hula skirt and coconut bra complains as she hurries past the clowns with a friend, heading towards the door for the house.

“I’m comfortable,” Harley says, stopping to do a twirl in between steps. “Have no idea why she could be so chilled! They call me crazy, but at least I know to be covered up outside in Indiana in October. Ah, but I suppose that would ruin the sexiness of her costume, wouldn’t it?”

“Well,” Eddie says, not hiding the fact that he’s looking her up and down. He figures he might as well shoot his shot. “You’re literally covered from head to toe, down to your fingertips, and you managed to be the sexiest one here tonight.”

It takes her a moment to recover from the unexpected compliment. Flirting? Okay, she was absolutely doing it too. But Eddie’s words warm her from within and she can feel the heat seeking its only outlet in this costume: her face.

“Aha, but word on the street is that you’re crazy too, Mister J.”

“Maybe crazy, but not blind,” Eddie replies.

She smiles and it makes Eddie’s heart stutter in his chest.

Before Harley gets a chance to open her mouth and reply, the back door of the frat house busts open and a whole gaggle of drunken guys come spilling out.

“Stupid boys,” Harley says, shaking her head. She looks back to Eddie and offers her hand, palm up. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“I’d be delighted.” Eddie’s white gloved hand takes her black gloved hand, and the two intertwine their fingers as they head to the side of the frat house, to walk around to the front.

There are still people streaming into the party. Cars are parked up and down the street and some are clearly circling the block to see where they might be able to squeeze in as well.

Harley leads Eddie across the street and down a side road, away from the chaos of the party.

“So,” she says once they’re far enough away to hear one another easily, “what’s your real name, Joker?”

“Eddie,” he tells her, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “What about you?”

She tells him her name and Eddie can’t help but think how pretty it is.

“But tonight I’m Harley, cause she ain’t as shy as I am,” she says.

“I’m pretty sure Eddie is on the same level of outgoing-ness that Joker is, so I’m good with either,” he says, making her laugh.

The two of them walk towards the heart of campus and come to the point where Eddie actually starts to recognize buildings.

“This is the student center, right?” he asks.

“Yep. The best place to get good on campus, just as a heads up.”

“I will definitely keep that in mind. My buddy says he mostly eats in the East dining hall cause it’s right in front of his dorm building,” Eddie explains.

“That’s the East dining hall right there,” Harley says, pointing to a long one-story building to their right.

“Which makes that Haynes Hall.” Eddie gestures to the looming brick building behind it. “That’s where I’m crashing.”

“Is that so?”

The sultry, suggestive tone goes right to Eddie’s cock.

“Would you, uh, like to see it?” he asks, tilting his head to the side with a small smile.

“You know,” she says, leaning forward to rest her hands on the lapels of his purple blazer, “I lived there back when I was a freshman.”

Eddie feels his heart drop. Was he reading the signals wrong? If so, what does it mean that she has her hands on his chest right now?

“I’m curious to see how it changed over these past three years,” she finishes.

The grin on Eddie’s face is as wide as the one the fictional character he’s dressed up as usually sports.

“Well, let’s not keep you in suspense any longer,” he says.

Harley gladly slips one of her hands into one of Eddie’s and tugs him in the direction of the twelve-story building. As soon as both of their pairs of black shoes are squeaking down the entryway hall down to the elevator, Harley gently pulls her hand away from Eddie’s to yank off the red and black gloves. The Joker follows suit with his own white ones, wanting to be able to hold her hand without any offending material in the way.

Their fingers lace together as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for the pair of them, and Harley jabs the elevator up button with her thumb. The silver doors glide open and as soon as he’s inside, Eddie is pressing the button to Dustin’s floor with urgency, before switching to the button that closes the elevator doors.

The moment the doors slide closed behind them, Eddie backs Harley up against the side wall of the elevator and cages her in by resting his arms against the litany of flyers that have been taped up on either side of her head. Her black mask slowly starts to slip down her nose as she gazes up at him. Eddie lowers his head to hers, his mouth only a breath away. A cheerful ding letting them know they’re on the right floor interrupts the almost-kiss.

Her eagerness is clear with the harsh tug she gives Eddie’s arm to lead him out of the elevator and down the thinly carpeted hall.

“Uh, 802,” Eddie says, scanning the room numbers of every door they pass.

“Oops,” Harley says with a giggle. “We’re going the wrong way.” She does a clumsy attempt at a ballet spin to turn one-eighty degrees and face the other end of the hall.

As soon as Eddie starts to think that they’re never going to find this goddamn room, they turn a corner and skid to a halt in front of the correct door. Eddie digs the extra key that Dustin gave him out of his pocket and slips it into the lock.

The moment they’re inside, Eddie is fumbling for the light since he doesn’t know the layout and can’t blindly lead her to the bed. The last thing he needs is either of them tripping on some textbook and breaking an arm.

Dustin’s bed is pushed against the right side of the wall and Eddie already makes a mental note to beg his younger friend’s forgiveness as he’s either disinfecting or burning the sheets later. Speaking of said younger friend…

Eddie doesn’t have the time or inkling to go digging through Dustin’s drawers to find a sock to hang on the doorknob, so he kicks off his sneakers and yanks at his black socks. One gets tossed to the cluttered floor while Eddie opens the dorm door and puts the other on the doorknob. The universal sign that you better come back later—even if this is your room.

Now Eddie can return his attention to the one place he’d like to keep it tonight: the beautiful jester in front of him.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Puddin’?” Harley coos, patting the edge of the mattress.

He sits down where she instructed and is rewarded with the sight of her kneeling on the floor between his spread legs. Eddie drops one of Dustin’s pillows down on the floor—since the bedding is all going to need to be taken care of anyway—and she gives the man above her a grateful smile.

Bare hands work at the belt holding the purple pants up and Eddie can’t keep his eyes off of them. He admires how soft and smooth they look as her fingers nimbly work. She then pops open his fly and drags down the zipper. Eddie lifts his hips and together the two of them push the pants and his boxers down his thighs. His cock springs free, already hard and begging to be touched. Her eyes immediately land on the precum beading at the head and she licks over her lips eagerly. A soft hum from the back of her throat is the only warning Eddie gets before she takes his length in her hand and immediately begins licking up the side of his shaft.

Eddie’s head drops back with a low groan. One hand falls to the mattress beside him while the other gently rests on the crown of her jester hat. When she takes the head of his cock in her mouth, Eddie clenches the comforter that his hand is resting on in his fist.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans. He tilts his chin forward to look down at the sexy supervillain sucking his dick. The bright red lipstick leaves a ring around Eddie’s cock that he never wants to wash off. He watches her go deeper and deeper each time, the crimson smears getting closer to the dark patch of hair at his base.

When her head begins to pick up speed, bobbing up and down, Eddie knows he needs to stop her before the real fun begins. Gently, he presses against her shoulder, which she is able to interpret and pulls her mouth off his cock with a pop. She looks up at him and her black eye makeup has smeared, smudging beneath her eyes and dark tear trails carving a path down the white face paint—all with the mask still in place.

“You’re too good at that,” Eddie tells her with a breathy chuckle.

“Good thing you stopped me, or I would’ve just kept going,” she says, laying her head down on his thighs and looking up at him with eyes shiny from tears. “And where would the fun be in that?”

“Exactly, darling.”

Eddie helps her up from the floor and she takes a seat on the bed next to him. She watches his every motion as he stands to kick his pants and boxers all the way off. Once he’s finished, she turns so her back is facing him.

“Would you mind unzipping me?” she asks.

“Not one bit.” Eddie leans in and presses a kiss to the side of her neck, which causes a shiver to go down her spine as Eddie drags the pull tab in that same direction.

Harley stands and kicks her boots off before shimmying the bodysuit costume down her frame. Eddie’s eyes make sure to capture every last detail of the reveal. With every new area of skin that’s exposed, it becomes his new favorite. The black lace bra and red lace panties make him chuckle.

“Even in the right colors down to that sinful underwear,” he remarks.

“Thought it was only fitting,” she says with the shrug of one shoulder. She kneels down on the bed and leans forward, working on popping open the buttons, first, on the yellow vest beneath the blazer, and then the mint green shirt below that. “Didn’t think that anyone was actually gonna see me like this tonight, so that makes for a nice surprise.”

“Didn’t think you’d be hooking up with someone with clown makeup on?” Eddie teases as he shrugs out of all his top layers.

“I could ask you the same question, Mister J.”

“Mm,” Eddie hums as he slips his arm around her waist and lowers her down to the mattress. “So we’ll be naked, just clowns from the neck up.”

“You’re already naked,” Harley muses, her eyes running up and down his bare form as he crawls on top of her. “Least you can do is make it even.”

A sound suspiciously close to a growl rumbles from Eddie’s throat before he speaks.

“Gladly.”

She arches her back, and Eddie counts his blessings when he’s able to unhook her bra fairly easily. He helps her get it off her arms and throw it somewhere in the dorm to be found later. Next, she lifts her hips off the mattress and Eddie is able to free her of her panties in one fell swoop.

Calloused fingers run up the outside of soft thighs before he lets them trail down to the part most aching for his touch.

Harley feels on edge—his hand is so close and he can’t move it fast enough. A desperate whimper tumbles from her lips and Eddie can’t help but find it adorably endearing.

“P-Please, Eddie,” she whines.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Eddie croons. His fingers travel down farther, and she automatically drops her legs open wider for him. A thick middle finger slides down and up her slit. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

“Want you so bad,” is the only thing she can get out, through a hoarse wispy voice.

“Is my Harley Quinn all needy? Hmm?” Eddie’s voice is soft and slow as his middle finger slides up and presses against her clit.

“Yes!” Her hands grip at Eddie’s upper arms and her eyes practically roll back in her head as he rubs tight circles against her sensitive nub. “Yes, Puddin’. Need you so bad.”

“Tell me what you need,” Eddie purrs.

“You,” Harley whimpers. “Your cock.”

“Whatever my partner in crime wants.” Eddie smirks as he positions his body on top of hers and guides his cock to her entrance. He moves slowly and she feels every inch as he pushes inside of her.

“Feels so good,” she whimpers, reaching up to hold on to some part of him.

“Tell me how good, baby.”

“M’so full,” she whines, hands moving higher so her fingers tangle in his green-tinted locks. “You’re so fucking big.”

Eddie’s hips pick up the pace, building a steady rhythm that makes the mattress below them squeak. Neither can hear over the sound of their labored breathing, though.

Using her grip on his hair, Harley pulls Eddie’s face down to hers and smashes their mouths together. Their lips meld together and tongues dance with one another, only adding to the intense pleasure. A particularly hard thrust of Eddie’s hips has them moaning into one another’s mouths. When the kiss breaks, Eddie buries his head into her neck while Harley’s breaths become even more shallow.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking tight,” he growls against her skin. “Feels goddamn perfect.”

Fingers tighten in Eddie’s hair in response, and the man isn’t able to hold back a guttural groan when she gives a small tug on the strands.

“Someone likes his hair being pulled,” Harley murmurs.

Eddie pulls back and looks down at her. He opens his mouth to respond but breaks into strangled laughter before any words can come out.

“W-What?” she asks.

“I had some witty retort questioning if you like your hair pulled, but I can’t even see your hair because of that adorable fucking hat.”

Harley lets out a soft giggle and shakes her head from side to side so the white pom poms on the end of the sides wiggle all over the place.

“How are you so goddamn sexy and insanely cute at the same time?” Eddie asks, a breathy laugh of his own coming out as his hips keep up their punishing pace.

“Mm, well, insane comes with the territory.” She grins and Eddie can’t help but dive back in to press his lips to her again. The red lipstick each of them is wearing smears to combine a shade of red that’s a compromise of both hues.

“Can I take your mask off?” Eddie asks against her lips.

“Please.”

Eddie balances himself hovering over her body before he reaches up with one hand and takes the small black mask off her face. He gently tosses it to land on top of the costume in a heap on the floor before focusing on her face. It’s still covered in white makeup with black tear tracks, but he can see much more clearly what she looks like underneath the whole Harley Quinn getup and it makes him smile.

“Beautiful,” he says, not even realizing he said it aloud at first.

“Not so bad yourself, gorgeous,” Harley says, giving him a wink.

A minor tilt of Eddie’s hips has his cock hitting just the right spot to make her see stars. A mix between a gasp and a moan erupts from her throat as her hands move to grab Eddie’s upper arms. Her fingers curl into his triceps and her eyes fall shut at the immense pleasure of Eddie’s cock repeatedly brushing that perfect spot.

“Holy shit,” she gasps.

“Good, baby?” Eddie coos.

“Uh huh,” she mumbles, forehead crinkling as her mouth falls open in awe. “God, right there, Eddie.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. Eddie drills his hips into hers, his eyes boring down at hers as she blinks them open.

Face still scrunched up in ecstasy, Harley stares right back up at Eddie. The combination of him hitting that spot over and over again mixed with the intimacy of the intense eye contact creates a familiar tightening in her lower abdomen.

“Eddie, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“That’s it,” Eddie rasps. “Come on my cock, sweetheart.” He reaches down and rubs her clit in time with his thrusts into her.

The friction is just what she needs to send her over the edge. Her back arches off the back, pressing her breasts into Eddie’s chest, and she lets out the most beautiful moans that Eddie’s ever heard as the wave of pleasure crashes over her.

The clenching of her already tight pussy around Eddie’s cock has him spilling into her seconds later. His thrusts are sloppy and desperate, but it sends a warm pleasant feeling over Harley as she comes down from her high.

Once Eddie is spent, he rests his forehead against hers. The face paint on both of them has smeared and smudged, now runny from sweat. They just gaze at one another as they attempt to catch their breaths.

“God, that was good.” She finally breaks the silence.

“So fucking good,” Eddie agrees. He leans down and presses another kiss to her lips before rolling to the side and plopping down next to her.

There’s a silence between them that has the potential to turn awkward, but they turn their heads to look at one another at the same time, and they both burst out in laughter.

“Do I look as funny as you do?” Harley asks, reaching up and smearing some of the white paint on his cheek.

“I’m afraid so,” Eddie replies with a nod.

“What a couple of clowns we are.”

Eddie snorts a laugh and brings his hands up to cover his face. When he pulls them away, they’re covered in white and red smears. Harley goes to lift her own hands to her face but stops halfway and lets out a soft squeal that turns into laughter.

“What? What is it?” Eddie asks.

She can’t stop laughing, so she turns her hands to show they’re now green from the coloring in his hair.

“Oh damn,” Eddie says, starting to laugh himself. “I’d say we’re in need of a shower.”

Harley turns on her side to face him and props her head up on her elbow.

“The bathrooms in this dorm aren’t co-ed,” she says. “Buuuut I also know that no one really gives a shit.”

“Dr. Quinzel, are you proposing we shower together?” He widens his eyes in fake shock.

“As long as you lend me something to wear afterwards, Puddin,” she croons, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. “I can’t exactly go around looking like this.”

“Looks good to me,” Eddie says with a smirk, which earns him a playful swat on the chest. “Even with the hat.”

“Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m still wearing this thing,” she says with a laugh.

“May I?” Eddie gestures towards the jester cap.

“Go for it.”

Eddie undoes the strap that was holding the black and red hat in place and gently removes it from her head. He can’t help but give a goofy grin now that he sees every part of her—except the clear skin of her face.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mister J.”

After both clowns have shed their makeup and are squeaky clean, Eddie lends her an oversized hoodie and she pulls her panties back on. Eddie changes into a pair of pajamas he packed with him.

He takes a step over to the bed now that he’s freshly dressed and winces when he sees the sheets. The navy-colored fabric is smeared with white face paint, red lipstick, and black eye makeup—not to mention other spots and stains that Eddie doesn’t even want to think about Dustin finding.

He makes quick work of yanking all the bedding off and shoving it into Dustin’s hamper. Clean? Burn? Both? Eddie’s not sure, but he’s leaning towards the fiery option. If the situations were reversed, Eddie would not want to be sleeping on these sheets ever again.

“Say, partner in crime.” Eddie sidles up next to her and wraps his arm around her waist. “Want to destroy some property with me? Quick question though…is it only arson if it’s a building or does it count for lighting anything ablaze?”

“We can just ask the cops when they arrest us,” she says with a shrug. “I’m sure they’ll know. Or maybe it’ll be Batman who gets us!”

The response makes Eddie chuckle. He leans in, cupping her clean, clear face in both hands and presses his lips against hers. The two of them get caught in the moment, mouths moving fervently, when there’s a voice outside the dorm door.

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me. This asshole doesn’t get laid the entirety of high school, but now it happens in my room? God damn it, Munson. Stranded out in the hallway as Sherlock fucking Holmes. Just perfect.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic

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springwitch26 · 1 month ago

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picture you (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)

summary: when melissa comes over to check on you after a rowdy night, she's met with a tantalizing display of what the thought of her stirs in you.

warnings: lesbian sex duh (18+), voyeurism, masturbation, squirting, alcohol consumption and memory loss, teasing, vibrators, overstimulation, "casual" sapphic situationship

notes: hi sorry for being gone for six months (if anyone cares), but i'm back at least temporarily for kinktober. this is a fic based on "picture you" by chappell roan, so go listen to it for the full experience. i feel like this is kinda bad and idk why i wrote it other than i'm gay and deprived of affection. but that's the writer's burden is it not

the morning after ava's halloween party, you startled yourself awake with a jolt and a gasp. given how much alcohol you'd had the previous night, you expected to wake up in a puddle of sweat or worse. instead, you were tucked into your bed, dry, warm, and barely hung over. well, mostly dry.

you shifted your legs under the sheets and sighed. another pair of panties ruined because of her, you thought.

and yeah, you did blame melissa. she spent the whole night riling you up, only to then deny you sex because you were drunk. the two of you had been hooking up at every opportunity for a couple weeks. it was meant to be an occasional thing, an escape from the stress and tension of your daily lives as educators. but once you finally got your hands on each other, neither of you wanted to pull away.

vignettes from the previous night played on a loop in your mind. your memory of the party was a hazy blur that began at melissa's place. after much convincing, melissa had agreed to be the rio to your agatha for halloween. it was an easy look to throw together last-minute, given the amount of green in her wardrobe and black in both yours and hers. this was convenient because ava, true to form, had announced her party just two days before it was meant to happen.

"hold still," melissa said as she leaned into you. your eyes fluttered shut as she lifted the purple-dusted makeup brush to your eyelid. her free hand found purchase on your thigh. you held your breath as she gently applied the eyeshadow. "shakin' ain't still, princess."

"sorry," you breathed. she painted your other eyelid and then reached into her bag, retrieving a soft pink lipstick. she uncapped it and raised it to your mouth.

"open," she said simply. your lips parted and she smoothed the lipstick on. you were so focused on the command and the smell of her perfume and how close her face was to yours; you didn't even notice the way her fingers were slowly creeping up your thigh. "alright, pretty girl, you're done."

she withdrew her hand from your inner thigh and smiled when you whimpered at the loss. then she took your hand, pulled the hood of her green cloak over her head, and started toward the door. you scoffed at her fruitless teasing.

"come on," she planted a kiss on your cheek. "we're already late."

lying in bed, you remembered how she looked in that moment: the slinky black dress teasing her cleavage, the lacy green robe draped over her shoulders and caressing her long red waves. you recalled the warmth of her palm on your leg and the unmistakable lust in her smoky eyes. your face flushed and you squirmed under the covers.

once again you felt the dampness of your underwear, which reminded you of the racy dream you had after melissa tucked you into bed and left. you pressed your thighs together as the dream came back to you in bits and pieces—a subconscious compilation of all the things you wanted her to do to you last night.

in your mind's eye, you saw the redhead pinning you against ava's bathroom door, one hand over your mouth and one sneaking under your skirt. you remembered dancing with her, her hands running greedily along your curves and summoning goosebumps in their wake, and imagined what would have happened if her fingers had dared to venture under your dress. you could practically hear her reaction: "no bra? you must want me bad, baby."

now you were hot and bothered again at the mere image of her. almost unconsciously, you reached down and dragged your ruined underwear down your legs, leaving you bare except for the oversized tee melissa picked out for you to sleep in. on instinct, your fingers began to migrate down your body, searching for the source of the tingling between your legs. another flashback from the party swept your psyche.

the game was simple: you jump, you drink. you, melissa, mr. johnson and gregory—who was only participating out of loyalty to his unspoken status as the most rational and collected teacher at abbott—all played along while watching sinister.

"sit on my lap, sweetheart," melissa whispered in your ear as the opening credits played. there was plenty of room for the four of you on ava's couch, but that didn't matter to the redhead. when you sheepishly complied, gregory gave you both a puzzled look. "gotta make sure this one doesn't cheat."

you got comfy on melissa's lap and watched the screen, steeling yourself for the scares ahead. not even ten minutes into the movie, you had to take your first drink. the protagonist crept around while ominous music grew ever louder, and you braced yourself for the first jumpscare. just then, while you were on the edge of your "seat" on top of her, melissa pinched the back of your right thigh harshly. you startled in her lap, and mr. johnson hollered, "that counts, bottoms up!" melissa smirked and soothed a thumb over the bit of skin she'd squeezed while you sulked through a shot of vodka.

"don't be scared, honey. it's just me," she cooed, continuing to rub firm circles into your flesh. you couldn't stop yourself from thinking of her repeating that same motion elsewhere on your body. feigning fear at the movie, you turned away from the screen and buried your burning face in the crook of melissa's neck.

lost in reminiscence, you were hardly conscious of the fact that your fingers had begun drawing circles on your clit. you whimpered, lamenting that your own touch would never be as magical as melissa's. you had only the memory of how her fingers felt on your body, how her sultry voice sounded in your ear. these things alone were enough to make you spread your legs and touch yourself in earnest.

about an hour into sinister, melissa cut you off. you had been jumpscared one too many times, and the older woman decided it was time to switch out your alcohol for water. this meant that when the film was over and it was time to go home, you were more coherent... but only by a little bit.

sitting next to you on the edge of your bed, melissa pulled at the ties on your purple dress until the garment fell away from your torso. giddy with excitement because she was finally undressing you, you turned around and placed an enthusiastic kiss on her lips. she reciprocated, but pulled back when you reached for the buttons on her dress.

"no touching, my little witch," she said, batting your hand away. you huffed and pouted at her. "you're drunk. don't start. if you're good for me tonight, maybe i'll reward you tomorrow."

tomorrow.

your eyes flew open and sure enough, there she was—leaning forward through the doorframe, dressed in a blue jacket and leather pants, a smug smile on her face. your hand froze between your legs.

"no, please, go on. i was enjoyin' the show," melissa teased. "unless... you need my help?" she took a few small, measured steps toward you. "sounded like it from downstairs. you know i can't resist you when you moan my name, angel."

"i was... saying your name?" you asked.

"oh yeah, you've been whining for me since i got here," at your look of alarm and embarrassment, she went on. "babydoll, i heard dirtier things from you last night anyway."

at this, your mouth dropped open. you had no idea what she was referring to, and she could tell. she grinned and stalked toward the bed.

"you don't remember, do ya? well, that's a shame. you were beggin' me to touch you, sayin' you'd die if i didn't," her fingernail found your calf and traced a slow, meandering path up your bare leg. "it was cute. i've never seen you so needy."

more clips from the previous night ran through your head. melissa trying to help you into your pajamas while you grabbed at her fingers, trying to drag them where you wanted them. the stern look she gave you when you arched your back, pushing your breasts into her working hands. in the present, your whole body ran hot with embarrassment, and melissa chuckled.

"i came here to pull you back from the brink of death, sweetie, but if you'd rather do it yourself..." melissa trailed off, lifting her finger from your skin.

"no!" you protested, taking hold of her hand and looking deeply into her olive-green eyes. "please, i still need you."

"that's what i thought," she beamed, positioning herself over you. "now... what do you want, princess? fingers or tongue?"

"fuck—" you gasped as she cupped and squeezed your tits through your shirt. "tongue, please."

melissa wasted no time, lifting up your shirt and inching toward your center with featherlight kisses down your torso. when she finally reached the hem of your panties, she rubbed her finger back and forth along your clothed sex. "so messy today," she cooed before sliding the garment down your legs.

"yeah, 'cause you spent the whole party feeling me u-" your scoff gave way to a moan as melissa licked through your folds. your frustration melted away with each hot stroke of her tongue, just as she intended. she devoured every drop of you she could reach while you mewled, helpless against the pleasure. "god, yes!"

"not god, babygirl, me," melissa drawled between licks. she teased around your clit for what felt like forever, until your pleading noises cracked her resolve. she stimulated your bundle of nerves by drawing, and then scribbling, spirals with her tongue. "that's it, honey. doesn't that feel nice? isn't that worth waiting for?"

"yes, yeah," you babbled, already getting close from her ministrations. when your hips began to buck against her mouth, she paused. when she withdrew from the bed altogether and went to rifle through her bag, you huffed. "i didn't come, mel."

"i know you didn't, doll. that beautiful brain of yours gave me some great ideas last night, ya know," she said with a hint of amusement. "kept telling me to use toys on ya so i wouldn't technically be touching you while you were drunk. your logic was nonsense, but it did get me thinkin' of more creative ways to play with you."

once she was done speaking, she held up a deep green, curved dildo to your line of sight.

"it's a g-spot vibrator. can i try it out on you?"

you nodded vigorously, and she grinned. melissa grabbed the vibrator and positioned herself between your spread legs, nuzzling into your clit just to hear your sharp gasp. she switched to swiping her thumb over your button while her dominant hand teased your entrance with the toy.

"just relax, sweetheart, open up for me," she coaxed as she pressed the tip of the dildo inside you. fortunately you were more than wet enough to take the stretch, and it went a lot more smoothly once melissa turned on low vibrations. her finger traced lazy yet encouraging patterns on your clit. once the toy was fully sheathed inside you, it nestled against your most sensitive spot. even the gentlest vibrations made you shake and squeal. "aw, is that the spot, angel? good girl, i knew you could take it."

melissa turned up the vibrations by three settings, and it took all your willpower not to scream. while you adjusted to the new sensation, her mouth returned to your clit and suckled. the pressure on both of your sensitive spots proved too much, and you tumbled over the edge for the first time that morning. the redhead only doubled down in her efforts as you jerked and trembled through your release, nursing on your bundle of nerves with force.

when the stimulation started to feel overwhelming in the afterglow of your orgasm, your panicked eyes flitted to melissa. the pleased smirk never left her face as she dialed up the vibrator by several more notches and swapped her mouth out for her fingers rubbing your clit. "last night you promised i could fuck you however i wanted, for as long as i wanted. well, now i'm giving you what you begged for. how's it feel to be at my mercy?"

you moaned and writhed frantically as a second, more powerful wave of pleasure threatened to crest at any moment.

"is this what you were thinkin' about when i came in? me in that pretty costume, taking good care of your pussy?"

with these words, a drive of the dildo into your g-spot, and a pinch of your clit, you came undone again. this time melissa's hands were soaked in a gush of wetness, but she kept on rubbing you through the very last spasm.

"what, you been holdin' out on me? you've never done that before," melissa said lightly, passing you a glass of cold water. you shrugged and looked away in embarrassment. "hey," she started, lifting your jaw in her hand to meet her gaze, "it was gorgeous. and now i'm gonna try like hell to make you come like that every single time."

as she gathered her things, you cocked your head. she usually preferred to stick around and let you return the favor. melissa noticed your raised eyebrow and offered an explanation.

"i got errands to run today, and satisfying my girl was first on the list," she said before leaning in for a deep kiss. "i'll see you tomorrow at work, okay hon?"

you didn't have the chance to reply before she slipped out the door. she had spent the night looking after you and the morning pleasing you, then called you her girl. ha, you thought, so much for casual.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti smut #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary fanfic #wlw smut #kinktober

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seafoamsol · 4 months ago

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The best years of my life...

... what I wouldn't give to have them back.

I had the great pleasure of working with @spiderscribe on a DeadCeptor work for the @tf-bigbang, which you can (and should!) read [ HERE ]!

Details and artist commentary under the cut!

Okay, first off, I just wanna say, thank you so much to @spiderscribe for picking up my very loose scribble and taking the jump. She's an absolute champ, and I IMPLORE you to read her writing. She did a knockout job on the fic, and guaranteed, these two pieces wouldn't have been so elaborate without her. If you're a fan of deadceptor, parallels, lovers to enemies to apocalyptic teammates to ???s, I'm sure you'll find that and more in there.

[ HERE ] is the link to that, if you missed it the first time around.

The background for the supermarket was a MASSIVE undertaking. I ended up blurring it in the final to keep the dream-like quality, but there is a lot happening there! Most of the time I spent on the background was (jokingly) complaining though.

Anyone who works retail will know the agony of customer-misplaced stock. The little canisters of energon additives seem like prime candidates to be placed willy-nilly.

The little warning sign... My favorite soda, apple sidra, has a carcinogen warning, so I'm familiar with it. It was slightly surprising to me that those warnings are not countrywide, despite the fact that they very clearly say "California Proposition 65", and well. Not something else, like "Federal" or whatever.

The bags of nuts and bolts below, I asked several people what flavor they would be, and I suppose I failed in my job, because I wanted the purple to be the "regular" flavor, and the green to be the "sour". But grape and lemon-lime work as well!

The tub is full of rust-sticks. I have no idea if that came across. My friends kept calling the individually wrapped ones slim jims, which I mean, I guess!

The car batteries... My idea was that they were similar to shots, in a way? So that's how I ended up with a battery with enough terminals to rival an international airport. It's also sunset-coloured, because, I don't know, that's what Party Flavor is to me.

Okay. The second illustration. This one was a headache, mostly due to my own lack of planning, and the fact that I lost the file for... basically everything I did, including the above illustration. So it was a bit of a rush job.

The background bots started off as these very vague silhouettes, which I'm a little proud of. Look at how nice and somewhat readable they are! Okay, now what if I ruined it? What? You don't like that? That's rather unfortunate, because that's what I proceeded to do. In fact, if I take off all.. 10 or something adjustment layers, they look like this:

My process went: Shadow block> Fill rest of form> Color randomiser> Copy and skew (to populate background)> Hue adjustment> Gradient map> Fill Light> Chromatic aberration> Vignette> Levels> Curves.

The.... Magenta cube is there because due to the nature of the color randomiser, the foot had a high value, and stuck out like nobody's business in the end.

Here's what it would look like without the cube. Begone, distracting white blob! (I didn't have to worry about the lava arm because Percy happened to cover it up. What a save! But if he didn't then... there would have been a second cube.)

Basically, it was a mess. But... at least it came out fine in the end! I hope!

I'd love to have speedpaints on hand, but I was switching between CSP and PS for a good majority of the work.

I'd say that's it for these two pieces! I actually have more, but those demand more time. I'm much slower at doing inks than I am at painting, but I hope you'll get to see them soon.

#phew! been a while since I last did some commentary for a piece #I didn't even go over what everything was on the background shelves but just know if you asked me i'd probably be able to tell you #I have... an additional several pages of a comic based off of the fic that I unfortunately have not finished in time #but I definitely will #again it was amazing working with caroline and I hope to work with her again in future!#maccadam #transformers #tf perceptor #tf dead end #transformers cyberverse #tfc #deadceptor #perceptor #dead end

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heartfullofleeches · 4 months ago

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[Orange Murder Clown, during a shift at the pizzeria they work at, picks gum out of their hair - staring down at a fryer with intent.]

Orange: Should today finally be the day I stick my head in there....

Co-worker: Hey- There's some people outside looking for you.

[Orange groans - stomping out of the kitchen. A bag is immediately thrown over their head as they exit, screams heard as they're dragged out of the building. Hands carefully remove the bag from their head as they're set down in the back of a van - Mime Reader smiling warmly at them, wearing a party hat.]

Mime Reader: <3 [hugs Orange, placing another party hat they stole from the pizzeria on them.]

Pink: Afternoon, Love. Our sweet Mime decided you needed to get off work a little early today.

Blue: Y-you've been more stressed than usual lately...

Purple: Buckle up, Loser- We're going bowling!

💛: For your makeup and everything right here-

[Orange wraps their arms tightly around Mime - grinning from ear to ear as tears prick their eyes.]

Orange: Assholes- I love you guys so much....

Green: aw, they do have a heart...May I take a bite of it? Joking, obviously- ....maybe.

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere #yandere headcanons #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #male yandere #Murder Clown gang #yandere harem #yandere oc #yandere text #poly yandere

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thepaperbagstore · 1 month ago

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#paper party bags #paper bags with handles #gold gift bags #purple gift bags

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mygnolia · 1 month ago

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TASTE OF LIFE. l. heeseung

THE TALE GOES...heeseung is invisible to everyone, robbed of recognition as people pass through and never acknowledge him. to live as a shadow who observes is hard—heeseung sinks into corners and simply wishes for a chance to be a part of something. but when you finally come to the biggest halloween party of the year and see him, he can’t help but be attached.

pair -› lee heeseung x fem!reader | trope -› horror, literally no fluff | warn -› major character death, violence, stalking | REN SAYS.. first installment! also this is shit guys im so sorry I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT ASAP ugh writing this much lowk killed me </3 | 3k words | library

---

Mediocre. Normal. Ordinary.

That’s exactly how you’d describe the house that stood before you, with your bags tightly held in both hands as you ascended the few stairs to the porch. It felt like any other house, and you’d even compare it to the old one you were in.

The previous home was different in one major way—it added years of aging onto your parents somehow, as if something had sucked the life out of their minds. It drove them crazy to stay home, and you couldn’t help but be embarrassed every time they mumbled in public about going home.

They looked crazy. You just had to droop your head and pretend you didn’t know them.

Your parents’ eyes lit up when they entered through the door, with wood flooring and a color scheme that reflected on their preferences. It was almost identical to your other house, so why exactly did they choose to move to a home that was no different than the last? If anything, you were just glad they were starting to feel more comfortable within the new space. It felt breathable, and something about the old place you lived in felt dirty and plagued.

It wasn’t much of a struggle as you began to unpack the bags of clothes and boxes of items you brought with you, considering how little you cared about accents and decorations. With furniture already there, your room felt akin to your other one, but something was off. You tried to move the desk over to the window to gauge the effectiveness of the natural lighting, and when your curtains gave way to slightly clouded rays of sunlight in your room, you hummed with some satisfaction. Good enough.

As Halloween came around, you understood how much everyone in the local town loved to celebrate. Houses on your way to school were filled with webs, lights, and jack-o-lanterns, and it made you believe that the pumpkin farm on the outskirts of town had a smart business model. On top of having an abundance of fall flavored desserts, the Yang family held the biggest party of the year, seeing as their son went to the same high school of yours.

You had only heard whispers of the annual Yang Halloween party, rumored to be the best party of all time, was something you were looking forward to every year, even anticipating the post-celebration news to hit you from the town over.

The day neared, and you got more and more excited to finally get to know people ever since you arrived in town. People knew of you as the new girl, but no one reached out, all too consumed in their own cliques to introduce themselves to you.

—

“Taste,” you told the man waiting outside. “The password is ‘taste.’ “

The windows were tinted in red as moonlight streamed through one side of the building. The rest of the house was dark, with only flashing orange, purple, and green lights strung carefully to add to the mysterious ambience. Music blasted from the speakers and shelves were lined with decorations, ones that you were careful to avoid knocking over as you slid your way between crowds. There seemed to be never ending snacks, as people with tattered black cloaks always managed to keep the drinks filled and the rows neat.

It was obvious that the family knew what they were doing when it came to throwing parties—you hadn’t seen one person without a smile on their face. The festivities like horror rooms and games were all through-out the floor, and there was always something for everyone to do.

You fell into conversation with a few people, cutting it short as you excused yourself to the restroom. Down the same hall was a door that was left ajar, and you went to shut it before returning to the boy who you just met.

“Hi.”

You jumped back, eyes darting around as you searched for someone to match the sudden voice, and you heard a small curse in the same direction. Your feet were frozen as you only looked around, your hand still on the knob of the empty restroom as you hoped someone would come to break you out of your stupor.

There was nothing, you promised yourself, and the door shut with a click. Still, your gut swirled with fear as you slowly turned, anxiously rubbing the goosebumps on your skin.

“You can hear me, huh?”

You knew the sound was coming to your left, where the flashing lights were nowhere to be found. All you had was the phone you fished out of your back pocket before you saw a flash of something pale. You immediately turned, trying to find it once more.

You could’ve sworn there was something.

“Hello?” You probably looked insane to any bystander, calling out to the dark when you swore you saw something nearby.

To both your surprise and horror, someone floats through the closet door, his limbs passing through as a grin makes his way onto his features.

You’d think the ghost in front of you was attractive, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were experiencing something supernatural for the first time.

Bile rose in your throat as you became disoriented looking at the figure. With a yelp that caught confused stares from only a few people nearby, you scurried out of the house, bumping into bodies as the door grew closer and closer.

Like a bubble about to burst, the house feels stuffy and humid until you open the large doors, swallowing the cold air of the night like a lifeline. Your head spins with confusion, and you can’t seem to understand what you just saw until he seeps through the wall once more.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.” You yelp at the sound of his voice, taking a few steps back as you look anywhere but his sullen face.

The sound of your heart won triumph over anything else as you kept trying to make space between you and the creature in front of you. When he begins to glide closer, you take it as your sign to grab your small clutch and begin a brisk walk back home, no matter how dark.

“My name is Heeseung. No one’s ever seen me,” he explains, easily drifting behind you.

“Get the fuck away from me, Heeseung.” Your voice sounded shaky as the wind rushes past your ears. You felt hopeless, unable to hear his footsteps or gauge where he could be.

He’s right next to you, speaking directly to your profile all of a sudden. “Please, no one’s recognized me since I died. Please, you have to help me.”

The change in proximity has you jumping from being frightened, and you try to cover your ears to block out his voice.

The worst part of it all was that Heeseung could touch you. You felt the cold of his fingertips without the pressure of his mortality in his fingertips. Effortlessly drifting next to you, he worked to pry your fingers from your ears as a plea for you to hear him out.

“I don’t care. Leave me alone.” You began speeding up, seeing your house in sight and the ghost beginning to fall back in his misery. You didn’t care about it, only wanting to go home and pretend everything was a bad dream. While the ghost wasn’t ugly by any means, the supernatural facet of his identity kept you up as you feared the creature outside your window at any moment.

What you didn’t know was that your gut feeling was right–Heeseung wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted.

—

You didn’t know what was louder–Heeseung’s voice in your ear, or the thudding of your heartbeat.

Your scream echoed around the empty house when he appeared for the second time, your heart dropping as the lack of sleep you got from the night before made you even more on edge now. Everytime you looked down a corridor, shivers racked your body and you were unable to go anywhere without a flashlight. You swore you saw him in the corner of the room, and if not–something was horribly wrong with you.

There he was again, staying by the edge. “Please, get away from me, I can’t give you what you want, Heeseung.” You tried to keep your voice as steady as possible, as if you weren’t shaking from fear that you’d be joined by an intruder everytime you turned the corner.

You couldn’t shower or change without wanting to tear your hair out, and there was no way to quell the anxiety after you saw him stick an arm through your home.

There was nothing you could do. No one who you could go to about this. You were truly all alone.

Class felt like a blur with an ache in your head and an emptiness in your stomach. It was exhausting for you to dart around the room, waiting for him to appear.

He was waiting for something, you knew it.

You felt on edge constantly, like you were going insane. Every small movement triggered some sort of reaction, so much so that your classmates began to notice and snicker.

You felt like your parents–and you had no idea how to make it stop.

—

It was the third day of your sleepless torment. Your parents often left you alone according to their new work schedules, and you were still stuck having to hide from the apparition until you left for school. He looked torn apart, too, but you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t give you space. It got so bad to the point where you heard whispers of him in every corridor. You couldn’t stand it anymore, and your bloodshot eyes and scratched arms were a sign that something had been wrong ever since Halloween.

There was only one person you could tell about this, and you didn’t even notice how bad your fingers had been when you went to pick at the dry skin once more.

“Jungwon,” you mumbled as you passed him. He turned around, immediately recognizing you as someone he didn’t know much about.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concern knitting his eyebrows as you asked for him to talk with you outside.

Something was off that day. The clouds were gray, dipped with unease. The sky was bathed in dread, and Jungwon could tell something was wrong by the way you couldn’t find the sun no matter where you looked.

“What’s wrong, ____? You’ve been looking horrible ever since Halloween.” You flinched at the word, eyes stinging with tears as you were pushed back into thinking about that night. You never should’ve worn your black dress or added some cute cat ears. You never should’ve left the house.

“There’s something in your house, Jungwon,” you pleaded, your gaze frantically searching for any sign that Heeseung followed you. “It’s like a spirit, something happened and it won’t—“ your words came to an abrupt halt when you heard a chuckle from the boy in front of you.

A laugh tore through as Jungwon crossed his arms and looked at you with a pitiful grin. “You’re funny. Good prank, though,” he smiles, about to turn.

You had no idea what came over you when you went to grab his arm. Jungwon was practically a stranger to you, but one more sleepless night without a cure would’ve made you go insane if he kept following you. You needed to get rid of Heeseung.

“No!” Your voice rang out louder than anticipated, and the sudden shout made you wince, still holding onto Jungwon’s arm. “You don’t get it, something’s following me around, he keeps talking to me and no one else can see him—“

The boy yanked himself out of your grip, suddenly frustrated, and you feared the worst; Yang Jungwon would tell the whole school that you were crazy.

“Please, Jungwon—” you tried once more, “he’s real—he’s everywhere and I can’t get rid of him—it was because of your party,” at this point, your eyes were filled with tears as you begged your only hope from leaving. “You have to help me—“

“I don’t have to do anything for you, ____.” He sneered, growing impatient. “I don’t know who put you up to this whole prank, but you need to stay away from me.” He spun around, paying you no attention as you crumbled to a heap on the ground and sobbed hopelessly on the pavement.

The sky was darker than ever, and it was still afternoon.

Even as you walked down the empty dirt roads to your house, you couldn’t help but hear Heeseung’s voice ring in your ears. As you started running to push the sound out and replace it with your heavy breathing, your eyes began to shut with exhaustion. Slowing to an eventual stop in front of your house, you heaved, gasping for air that felt like it was escaping your lungs any moment as you held into the porch railing

“You’re home. What took you so long?”

Your vision was blurring slightly in the corners, and the corners of your eyes felt puffy. You were slipping out of consciousness, but you remembered that voice anywhere. “Get away from me, please.”

Heeseung pursed his lips, feeling slightly bad for the state that you were in. “I told you, I can help you.”

When you saw his pale shoes in front of you, your body reacted instantly, scrambling back to create some distance. You hadn’t registered that a wooden splinter from the floor cut into your palm until Heeseung saw the blood seep into the planks underneath you. The porch made no sound under his quick footsteps, and it only instilled more frustration at his lack of perceptibility. His sudden approach left you frightened as you waved a hand in the air, unable to feel the wound from the state of your body. “Go away, Heeseung!”

He frowned angrily. “Let me help.” He kneeled next to you and reached out for your wound before you yanked your hand back, stumbling as you got back up and tried to make your way to the entrance.

“Please, stop,” you cried, taking two steps towards the railing before your legs gave out. Heeseung tried to reach out for you again. But you pushed away his hand, the slap of the force making no sound. It was almost humorous how much your torture was one sided, but you had no more energy left to defend yourself.

Heeseung went to grab your wrist, worry etched in his features as your state deteriorated in front of him. You kicked his leg, hot tears staging your cheeks as you sobbed for him to leave you alone, but the more carelessly you moved, the more the large splinter dug into your hand. He begged for you to stop–to let him help you before anything bad happened, but you couldn’t understand through the sound of your own hysterics.

A mix of going days without sleeping, paired with your lack of appetite and delirium left you defenseless no matter how much you tried. You struggled against the ghost of Heeseung’s grip as he tried to stop you from hurting yourself even further. You felt bile in your throat when he was close, and you found the opportunity to yank your arm out of his grip. You underestimated the force, however, and your hand hit the wood behind you. Momentarily distracted, you focused on the blooming pain of the impact and the slowly trailing blood. It was out of body how you couldn’t process the sensation of your fingers tracing the messy wound, and you became a slave to your exhaustion as the boy came back.

You fought against him weakly, the blood from your wound becoming a larger problem the more you used your hands to do anything.

“You don’t get it!” He yelled, tears of his own forming from the anger of having to go against you.

Why couldn’t you just stop? Why did you keep pushing him away? You were selfish, trying to ignore him as if you didn’t understand his predicament. You were the only one who could’ve seen him, and he was the only one who saw you in return. “Even Jungwon doesn’t believe you,” he mumbled bitterly, seeing you slowly slip in and out. “You wouldn’t even help me, ____. It’s all your fault.” He talked as if you could hear him, the life in your eyes gone by the time he wiped his tears and finally looked at you, with your wrist going limp in his hold.

“I don’t get it.” He wept angrily, before getting up and leaving you there on the porch steps in a heap.

Heeseung turned to glance at you again, his semblance of a heart in pain from how things had to end up. “You seemed so nice–so promising. Jungwon swore we could've been friends.”

–

You didn’t know if it was possible to kill a ghost twice. After all, your death turned you into a floating apparition of yourself, as you watched your parents mourn their attempts to shield you from their own fate. Being a ghost wasn’t so horrible, but Heeseung was right; it was lonely.

When a voice calls your name apologetically from where you sit on your rooftop, your gaze settles on him with fury, and the moment you rush over to him and your fingers close around his wrist, you knew that you wouldn’t stop until you properly got rid of Lee Heeseung.

No matter how long it took.

i swear the rest of them will be better. and shorter.

zyvlxqht firstclassjaylee @riribelle @jaylajakey @minfolio @strxwbloody @r1kification @strayy-kidz @mimismenu @jwonistic @haechsworld @machambrx @ririsreverie @hollxe1 @wonnina @heeseungismymanz @cyjhhyj @eunimaybe

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eiightysixbaby · 1 year ago

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i love it loud

word count: 6.5k+

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you get invited to corroded coffin’s halloween party with your best friend chrissy. you don’t anticipate on having much fun, but that changes when you meet eddie…

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. alcohol consumption, a rogue billy tries to hit on reader, use of petnames, use of y/n (like maybe a few times), oral (f receiving), fingering (f), unprotected p in v - he pulls out tho!, brief description of reader’s costume but no mention of body type/etc.

You didn’t want to go to this party. Not really. Your best friend had insisted you come with her, because arriving alone would, in her words, be social suicide. Being invited to Corroded Coffin’s Halloween party was a big deal, she’d said, even though you know she was only invited because she’s been going out with the drummer. Of course he’s going to invite his girlfriend.

You hadn’t even had a plan for a costume, and with only a couple day’s notice you didn’t have the time to prepare something good. The stores were all picked over as far as Halloween costumes go, and so you went with the most basic, half-assed option you could’ve possibly selected.

You’re dressed as a cat.

It feels silly, it feels low-effort and stupid and basic, but here you are with your fluffy tail and soft felt ears, black high heels and whiskers painted on your face. A pink nose to top it all off. You did think you looked good, you had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t the costume you would’ve preferred. You awkwardly adjust your stockings as you step up to the front door of the large house, feeling horrendously out of place.

You glance at Chrissy beside you, her hippie costume bright and colorful - an extreme contrast to your all black attire.

“Okay, just texted Gareth that we’re here,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag. “Don’t look so thrilled,” she says sarcastically, pouting at you.

“Sorry I’m not exactly excited to be at a party where I know no one,” you say.

“You know me and Gareth,” she replies, looking at you like she’s confused.

“I barely know Gareth. And don’t act like the two of you won’t be running off to bang the second you get a chance,” you smile at her, knocking shoulders playfully.

“Listen… his friend Eddie, the lead singer, is super hot. Maybe you’ll get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“I don’t know, Chris. There’s going to be a million girls at this party, do I really want to be another notch on some rockstar’s belt?” you ponder.

She doesn’t get the chance to respond before the front door is swinging open in front of you. The figure on the other side is… Peter Criss. More like, Gareth dressed as Peter Criss. Fully outfitted in leather and silver studs, hair spray painted black with white and black cat makeup on his face. You laugh a little as you take him in, and he shoots you a teasing glare.

“Hey ladies,” he greets, pulling Chrissy in for a quick kiss. “Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“You know Chris always gets what she wants,” you reply with a laugh, and he laughs with you, agreeing.

He steps to the side, ushering you both into the large foyer of the house. It’s decked out in Halloween decor; bats on the walls, fake cobwebs, hairy toy spiders with light-up red eyes. There’s orange and purple string lights hung about, and you’re honestly impressed with the detail. The house is clean, aside from the stray cup or plate left behind from the current party guests, and the decorations are carefully placed.

“Holy shit, you guys really did it up for the party,” you say, eyes wandering to every corner.

“Oh yeah, that’s all Eddie. He loves Halloween. It was his idea for us to dress like KISS,” Gareth says with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t complain, you look so good in that outfit…” Chrissy says, trailing a finger down his chest.

“I’ll have to give you the official house tour,” he says to your friend. “You coming too?” he asks you, but you shake your head.

“Think I’ll get myself a drink,” you say, sticking out your thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

“Sounds good. There’s stuff on the counter and a bar out back by the pool, you can go wherever you’d like,” Gareth says with a smile, and it’s genuine. “Make yourself at home, say hey if you see the other guys around! You can’t miss ‘em, they’ll be dressed like me,” he adds, and you laugh, waving them off as Chrissy tells you to text her if you need anything at all.

You wander into the open kitchen, pleased with the selection of liquor that awaits you. If you’re going to be spending the night alone, you might as well get pleasantly drunk, you think to yourself. People are scattered throughout the room, talking with their circles of friends and acquaintances. There’s a couple different punch bowls filled with various concoctions, each one labeled with the contents. You take your pick of the poison, scooping the liquid up with a ladle and filling your cup.

You scrunch your face as you take the first sip, lips pursing as you adjust to the bite of the alcohol. You glance around the kitchen, taking note of even more decorations as you slink into a corner alone. They seem to fill the whole house, seeping into the living room and the dining room, any area that you can see. Gareth had said it was all Eddie’s doing, and you find yourself growing more curious about the man in question. You really didn’t know anything about Corroded Coffin, didn’t care much to do any research, you only knew what Chrissy told you.

You know that Grant, the rhythm guitarist, has rich parents, and that his dad bought the house for the band to live in while they’re recording their album. Chrissy always says Grant’s the nerdiest of the bunch, insanely smart and very friendly. You know that Jeff, the bassist, is apparently a sweetheart, a bit shy but would give you the shirt off of his back, and you know that Eddie…. well, you know that he’s supposedly “super hot”. Other than that, you’re drawing a blank. Chrissy hasn’t said much about him at all, now that you really consider it. Maybe he’s an introvert and doesn’t come around often, or maybe he’s a complete dick. He is a rockstar, after all. And there’s plenty of pretty women in his house right now, so… you can gather a few assumptions, to say the least.

You don’t get much more time to ponder the subject before you hear loud, raucous laughter coming in through the sliding doors to the backyard. Two figures stumble in, but in the dim light you can’t get a good look right away.

“I was made for lovin’ you baaaabyyyyyy!” a voice booms, and you don’t need more confirmation that it comes from another member of the band.

“How many times are you gonna sing that tonight?” the other voice counters, and you finally see two unfamiliar men walking towards the kitchen, dressed like other members of KISS.

The annoyed voice comes from the stand-in Gene Simmons of the evening, a frizzy black wig on his head and the signature makeup on his face, making him stand out. He sticks his tongue out obnoxiously at the other man, eliciting a laugh from him. Your eyes flit over, then, to the taller figure. Your attention is immediately grabbed — he’s intriguing right away and you aren’t quite sure why. Tall, slim, with a head of shaggy hair that diminishes his need for a wig for the costume. He’s dressed like Paul Stanley, a black star around his eye, surrounded by a face otherwise full of white makeup. He’s not wearing a shirt, at all, just a thick black studded collar around his neck and leather pants. Chunky heeled boots are on his feet, making him appear taller than just about everyone else in the room.

And if he’s dressed like the singer of KISS, then you can only assume this is Eddie. The singer of Corroded Coffin.

“Oh fuck off, Jeff. Have a little fun! It’s Hallo-fucking-ween, dude,” presumably-Eddie says, leaning into Jeff’s space.

“Sorry my idea of fun isn’t listening to your drunk ass sing KISS songs, Ed,” Jeff says, and the nickname gives you confirmation that this is, in fact, your guy.

Eddie just so happens to look up in that moment, his eyes falling upon yours unintentionally. He smiles at you, genuinely smiles at you, all while playfully rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. You giggle into your plastic cup, feeling like the two of you are the only people in the room for a moment. He gives you a teeny little wave, the slightest wiggle of his fingers, and you feel your heart rate increase as you return it. What is wrong with you? You were going to blame the alcohol, for the time being.

The moment is gone as soon as it came, Eddie’s attention getting redirected. You watch in fascination as they pour drinks for themselves, easily greeting the other partygoers who come up to them, eager to talk to the hosts. There’s a swarm of girls around Eddie in thirty seconds flat, and your heart deflates, much to your own dismay. Why should it bother you? He doesn’t even know you, and you don’t know him. Chrissy’s implication that you might hit it off with Eddie tonight is letting you get too in your own head, you decide, trying to shake it off.

You scoff, watching as a girl dressed like a devil leans on the counter into Eddie’s space, pressing her breasts together as much as she can. Her fake fangs are exposed as she laughs too loud at something he says, her bright red lipstick accentuating her mouth. You want to internally criticize her and her basic costume, before you’re reminded of your imitation of the most basic furry friend to ever grace Halloween.

As if on cue, someone comes up behind you and yanks on your tail, making you jump. Your drink sloshes over the rim of the cup at the sudden motion, splashing against the front of your outfit. You spin on your heel, met with the face of an unfamiliar man, which really isn’t saying much since almost every face here is unfamiliar.

“Can I help you?” you snark, flattening your lips in a straight line.

“Woah, calm down, pussy cat. Don’t have to bring the claws out,” the man says, smirking at you as if he has genuinely no clue why you’re bothered.

He reaches one arm out, flattening his palm against the wall behind you and leaning his weight on it, towering over you. He smells like cigarettes and booze, and you watch as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“If you don’t mind,” you snap. “I really need to go wash the liquor out of my costume. Asshole,” you mutter the last part, ready to make your exit when the stranger grabs your arm.

“Going so soon? I thought we’d make friends,” he smiles at you, blue eyes piercing down at you as you grow wildly more uncomfortable.

“I’ll pass,” you emphasize, stomping the heel of your boot down onto his foot.

He yelps in pain, releasing your arm and allowing you to speed-walk out of the crowded kitchen. You can see various pairs of eyes on you as you scurry out, and you can hear your victim cursing you out through the bass coming through the stereo.

You high-tail it out the back door, heels clicking aggressively on pavement as you push through more people surrounding the pool. You finally stop to calm yourself down when you find a lull in the crowds, a spot where you can be relatively alone. You silently thank yourself that the stranger didn’t follow you, but what you didn’t realize is that someone else had.

You exhale, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a swig. Your now-wet top clings to your skin, aggravating you, but the last thing you want to do is wander back into the house in search of the bathroom.

“H-hey, um, are you alright?” a voice rings out directly behind you.

You jolt just slightly, not expecting company. Turning to face the other person, your eyes first land on those big, black platform boots. Eddie had followed you. Your gaze trails up his figure, leather pants and studded belt and bare torso, until you meet his eyes for the second time this evening.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw what happened in there and, uh, to be honest I don’t even know why we keep inviting Hargrove to these things—” Eddie rambles, as if Hargrove is a familiar name to you, as if he’s nervous to be around you — like he isn’t the star-studded host of this party.

“I’m okay,” you reply, cutting off his sentence, smirking a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I know these parties can get crazy, but… I always want to make sure everyone’s safe,” he says, his gaze softening as he says the last part. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake.

You immediately notice the big, silver rings adorning many of his fingers, your eyes lingering on them for maybe a second too long before you remember he’s waiting for you. You extend a hand, grasping his and shaking it.

“Y/N,” you reply. “I, uh, I’m here with Chrissy.”

“Oh, you’re Cunningham’s friend!?” he asks, lighting up at that. Excited as he says it as if you’re the celebrity here, not him.

You nod, smiling at him now.

“Damn, and she already ditched you to go screw Gareth, I’m assuming?” he jokes, and you laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Forgetting your less-than-pleasant encounter from moments ago.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” you say sarcastically, smiling wider when he snorts.

There’s a pause, you can feel him staring at you as you take another sip of alcohol. “Well, I’m a little offended she didn’t tell me that she had such a beautiful friend,” he says, and you feel your cheeks grow warm at his forwardness.

You duck your head, avoiding his eyes as your face scrunches in a shy smile. “Ah, there’s the rockstar charm,” you say, loving the sound of his laugh that comes in response.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he playfully asks, cocking his head as he leans forward to meet your gaze.

“How many other girls have you used that line on tonight?” you counter, playful but keeping a safe distance.

“Ouch, sweetheart. You really take me for that much of a player?” he stumbles back, clutching his chest as if he’s been wounded. Your eyes linger maybe too long on the tattoos littering his torso, the slight smattering of hair on his pale skin.

“Well, you are parading around your own party shirtless. Seems like a tool move to me,” you smirk, finishing off your drink with one last sip.

“Darling, you’re dressed like a cat. I don’t think you can come for my costume right now,” he flashes his perfect teeth at you, unable to contain his smile at your banter.

There’s a moment of silence, you staring out across the yard at the bright lights of the city down below, stretching vast and far. Then he speaks up again.

“I mean it. I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re very pretty,” you say honestly, letting yourself give in to his flirtations.

“Is it the makeup? Am I gonna have to wear this every time I see you now?”

You giggle. “Every time? Are there going to be more times, mister rockstar?”

“I mean, I’d love to take the time to get to know you outside of a party setting, if that’s okay with you,” he smiles bashfully, and you can only assume he’s blushing under all of that makeup.

“Yeah. I think that’s okay with me,” you reply.

Conversation flows easily with Eddie, the less-than- pleasant encounter with the stranger and the spilled alcohol on your shirt long forgotten. He tells you about his life before the band started to make it big, how he always dreamed of being a rockstar. He shyly told you about how he used to parade around his home as a kid, playing his little guitar and singing songs he made up until his uncle was begging him to quiet down and go to bed.

You confess that you really didn’t know much about the band, other than things Chrissy had told you, and you apologize although he tells you it’s absolutely not necessary.

You both end up sitting in the grass side-by-side, talking so much you don’t even remember making the choice to sit, it just happened. There’s a lull in the conversation, his eyes searching yours before glancing down to your lips. He moves just slightly closer, his breath hitting your face with each exhale. You feel yours catch in your throat, anticipating his next move.

You don’t get the chance to see what that move is before the girl in the devil costume from the kitchen approaches. She instantly has her hands on Eddie, grabbing his arm with a red-gloved hand and pulling him to stand. “Eddieeee, come on! You have to come play spin the bottle with us!” she pleads, her voice too whiny to not be part of an act.

“I- uh,” he stumbles, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place.

The girl moves to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his chest now, starting to push him backwards. “Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t play,” she continues, her shrill voice grating in your ears.

You don’t like how close she’s getting, how unafraid she is to be touchy with him. Who even is she? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? She’s pushing him further away from you by the second, not once acknowledging your presence. You scoff, looking to the side, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

Before Eddie can really do anything, he’s being shoved fully away from you. You don’t see the way he desperately looks to you for an out, simply bothered by the fact that this girl won’t leave him alone.

You wonder if you were right, if he called you beautiful just like he calls every other girl beautiful. You didn’t want to believe it, but, he’s about to go play a game with a bunch of drunk people where the whole point is to kiss each other, so. It’s not looking great for you.

You’d be lying, though, if you said your curiosity wasn’t peaked. You find yourself bored watching partygoers splash around in the pool, and you can’t shove down your internal need to find out what mister rockstar and the devil girl are up to inside. Your feet are carrying you before you can decide against it, leading you back inside, back through the kitchen where you pour yourself another drink, and then to the living room where you find a large group sat in a circle.

You hang back, just slightly, not wanting to make it too obvious that you’re watching the game, even though you aren’t the only one who came to spectate. To be completely honest, the first few spins you witness aren’t very exciting. You don’t know any of these people, so what should it matter to you if they kiss? You’re about to step away when the circle erupts with various ‘Ooooh’s and whistles.

“Come on, Eddie! You gotta do it!” a now very drunk Jeff screams.

To your absolute horror, Eddie had spun the bottle, only for it to land on the little bitch whose name you still don’t know in the devil costume. Eddie looks at the girl, who is very clearly eagerly awaiting a kiss from the singer of Corroded Coffin, but then he looks up at you.

You didn’t think he’d realized you were there, didn’t think he saw you lurking, but he looked at you too pointedly for it to have been an accident.

You swallow, suddenly feeling awkward amongst the silence of the room. Everyone’s watching Eddie, expecting him to get his kiss over with and move on. He stands finally, stepping forward. You almost want to look away, not interested in watching him lock lips with someone that isn’t you. But you can’t look away, not when he bypasses the anonymous girl and heads right for you.

“Um, I’m right here!” she says, her tone snarky and honestly annoying enough to make you want to slap her.

“Yeah, well I’m not kissing you, Tina,” Eddie says. “Spin the bottle. What are we, fourteen?” he asks, eyes still locked on you as he stands merely a step away now.

Your heart thumps in your chest, every bit of your nervous system attuned to him. Your mouth hangs slightly open, not knowing what to do or what to say.

He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I want to kiss you, that okay?” he murmurs, letting one hand rest so gently on your waist.

You want to laugh in Tina’s face. You want to point and laugh and rub it in, but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response here. You need to kiss Eddie, sooner rather than later.

You just nod, a smile playing on your lips. He leans his face closer to yours, hovering by your ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, about her. She’s… a friend of a friend who always ends up at our parties. Trust me, I have no interest there.”

The reassurance really isn’t necessary, you barely know Eddie after all, but it’s extremely appreciated. You feel your heart flutter a little, smug and satisfied all in one. And then his lips are on yours, not giving a damn who’s watching, not a care in the world for what anyone might say.

His lips are soft, warm against yours and the way he cradles the back of your head in his hands makes you weak at the knees. Your noses brush before you pull away, and the two of you giggle in unison like you just shared some exciting secret with each other.

Tina is dumbfounded where she sits on the carpet, watching you. You swear steam would be coming out of her ears if this was a cartoon. You give her a little wave and an all-too-fake smile before Eddie grabs your hand to lead you away.

Not a single word is spoken as he pulls you out of the living room, you’re silent until you reach the stairs to go up to the second floor.

“So you really don’t have history with Tina?” you playfully ask, pressing the issue just to be a pain, and he groans.

“Ugh, god, no. Like I said, she always ends up at these things and she’s all over me. But the funny part is, we went to high school together. She bullied the crap outta me,” he explains, and you can’t help but laugh. “Spread some nasty rumors on social media…” he shakes his head, smirking at the thought now.

“Of course,” you roll your eyes, “Now where are you taking me, rockstar?” you grab his waist once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, pulling him closer to you.

“To my room, because there’s no way I can handle any more interruptions tonight,” he says, his hands finding your hips, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment.

Another kiss is ghosted over your lips, open-mouthed and teasing, leaving you chasing after him when he pulls away and starts to walk down the hallway. He opens the dark wood door, gesturing for you to enter first.

The second he’s inside with you, his mouth is on yours, your back pressed to the wall as his hands grip your waist. He fumbles with the light switch behind you, providing a dim glow throughout the room. He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, licking inside of your mouth and groaning when your tongue meets his. Your noses brush and you’re sure his makeup is getting smeared on your face, or vice-versa, and the thought makes you smile into the kiss. His lips work their way down to your jaw, nipping and mouthing at the skin before residing on your neck, sucking till it stings.

You hiss, arching your back into him, hands grabbing at his bare shoulders as your nails dig into the skin.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, hands grabbing your face as he brings you in for another heated kiss.

He starts to walk backwards, guiding you with him towards his bed. His boots are kicked off of his feet carelessly, and you toe off your heels in tandem. He reaches the mattress, falling back onto it and scooting backwards until he’s fully on the bed. You follow his lead, straddling his lap and letting your hands roam his bare chest. He watches you like you’re an ethereal being, eyes big and round and completely full of desire. His hands wrap around to grab your ass beneath the fabric of your skirt, filling his open palms with the soft flesh and squeezing.

Your hands waste no time in finding their way to the zipper of his pants, tugging it down after undoing the button.

“Need these off, Ed,” you say, sounding more whiny than you’d wanted. Your face gets hot at the smirk he gives you in return.

“Oh, so we’re desperate now, huh?” he says, the cocky rockstar demeanor coming out in full-swing. It makes you embarrassingly flustered, your cunt throbbing for him.

All you can do is nod, your hand trailing over the bulge that waits for you beneath fabric.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, starting to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

You remove yourself from his lap, letting him undress — your mouth practically watering when his cock springs free and smacks against his stomach. He’s fully naked for you now, given that he already wasn’t wearing a shirt. All that’s left is the studded choker around his neck, and it makes you drool.

“Like what you see, baby?” he asks, a smug little grin on his face as he watches the way you take in his entire body.

You already noticed the tattoos on his chest and arms, but now you’re noticing the ones on his thighs. He’s unreal, so unfairly gorgeous and captivating. He’s perfectly sculpted, a sharp V carved into his pelvis that simply leads your eyes down a path to his perfect cock. It’s big — long and not too thick, veiny with a pink, leaking tip. He must catch your intrigued expression, because he laughs, a devious little sound that tells you he can’t have any pure intentions.

“Why don’t you lay down so I can get you ready to take this cock?” he purrs, slender fingers stroking up and down one side of your body.

You shudder at his touch, moving to lay down on his bed. You pull your shirt off before you do, leaving your black, lacy bra on display for the man beside you. Your tits rest perfectly in it, and Eddie’s sure to get an eyeful. His hands gently hold your hips once you’re situated comfortably, partially laying down with your back propped against his many fluffy pillows. He leans down, letting his lips graze over your jaw, your cheek, your nose, before finally pressing to your mouth. He brings one hand up, pulling your cat-ear headband off of your head, deciding it can’t be very comfortable to have on for hours at a time. It makes you breathe a little laugh into the kiss, remembering how silly you must look with your painted on whiskers and nose.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it, his mouth pulling off of yours and starting to travel down your neck. He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, sucking on the most sensitive bits of skin and making you whine as you wriggle beneath him. He finds his way down to your breasts, hands sliding your bra straps down your shoulders as you arch your back for him, giving him room to unhook the clasp that sits at your spine. His lips immediately attach to one of your pert nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the small bud. One of his large hands cups your other breast, the cold silver of the rings on his fingers a sharp contrast to your searing skin.

He switches after a moment, sucking the opposite nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Something akin to a growl leaves his mouth when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, and it spurs you on to keep going. His lips unlatch themselves from your breast, his mouth moving down down down, trailing kisses everywhere it goes. Your cunt throbs when his mouth approaches the waistband of your tight little skirt, his eager hands hooking beneath the fabric and beginning to yank it down, along with your underwear.

He peppers kisses lower and lower on your body, his mouth following close behind the clothes that he pulls off of you, covering every inch of skin as it’s exposed to him. He discards everything onto the floor, definitely tearing your stockings in the process of ripping them off of you. Your mind is a blur as he hastily attaches his lips to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you with complete ease. You weren’t expecting all of the stimulation so suddenly, your body writhing on the mattress as he sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth.

“More, Eddie, need more,” you pant, knowing you’re probably being greedy but knowing all the same that he won’t deny you what you want.

He hums against your cunt, immediately adding a second finger inside of you. He curls the digits, collecting your sticky wetness and groaning at the filthy noises that his movements make. Your hands tug harder on his hair as you throw your head back onto the pillows, cursing at how good he feels. Going in, you had no idea how tonight would play out, but you certainly didn’t expect to be hooking up with the frontman of Corroded Coffin. Your head spins at the thought of how many other people would probably die to be in your position right now, and it only makes you more turned on.

“Want one more, baby? Need to make sure you can take my fingers before you take my cock,” he purrs, smirking up at you.

“Yeah, please, I can take it,” you reassure him, and he slips a third finger in.

His fingers are thick, no doubt about it, and they stretch you so deliciously you feel like you could cry. The silk sheets beneath you feel cold against your skin, easing the heat that floods your entire body. You grip them with one hand, the other still in Eddie’s hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit in the perfect rhythm. He doesn’t dare change his pace, not with the way you’re moaning his name like a siren song, drawing him more and more into you.

You’re rapidly approaching your release, that much he knows, and he wants to send you free-falling over that edge. The way you suck his fingers right in practically makes him drool, he can’t get enough. Loud, shrill moans of his name leave your mouth as he curls his fingers into that perfect soft spot inside of you, and Eddie couldn’t care less if the whole damn house can hear you.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, ohmygod—” you’re cut off mid-sentence, the air stolen from your lungs as you come undone for him.

You squeeze around his fingers, soaking him as your body trembles. He pulls them out of you, slowly bringing them to his lips, making sure your eyes are on him. He sucks the digits clean of your juices, humming contently around them. You ache for him, your body desperate to have him even though it’s only been seconds since he’d been pleasuring you.

He moves to hover over you, reattaching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It’s somehow gentle and rough at the same time, a weird but enticing juxtaposition. He tastes like you and it drives you crazy as your mouths clash together, all teeth and tongues.

“Fuck, baby, hold on. Let me get a condom,” Eddie says, nearly breathless as he pulls away.

“No— want you to fuck me raw,” you mewl, reaching out to stop him as he goes to stand.

“Baby…” he says, looking at you with uncertainty. He never goes without a condom, and certainly doesn’t want you to feel pressured to forgo one.

“Please, Eddie. Just pull out,” you plead with him, and you honestly can’t believe your nerve right now. Begging the famous rockstar you just met to fuck you raw, as if you have all of this power over him. What you don’t know is that Eddie already wants to give you anything you ask for.

“Okay, alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before positioning himself on top of you.

He lines his cock up with your entrance, and you can feel the way you throb for him. You know you’re even more soaked than before, and you hardly worry about whether or not he’ll fit.

“You ready?” he asks sincerely. Big brown eyes searching yours for your approval.

“Mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter closed when you feel him start to press in.

Moans leave each of your mouths in unison as he sinks inside inch by inch. Your nails dig in to the skin on his back, dragging down when he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses, breathing heavy as he tries to gain some composure. You feel so good around him, too good, and it takes all of his focus to not bust immediately.

“Please move, need you to move,” you whine, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes.

He nods, “Okay, baby. Gonna give it to you so good, yeah?”

He starts thrusting, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost fully out of you before rutting back in. The air is forced from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent moan. His movements stay slow like that for a little while, giving you the friction you need but still teasing. Moans leave your lips as he slowly pushes himself all the way in, letting you fully feel the way he stretches your walls to fit him.

He starts to speed up then, setting a steady pace as he fucks into you harder. He does it so well, filling you to the brim and making you clench around him. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock, the pleasure making your body erupt in goosebumps.

“Shit, feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Eddie pants, his hips smacking against yours roughly. “Wanna try something different?” he asks, waiting for your approval which comes without hesitation.

He pulls out of you, making you wince slightly. He stands at the side of the bed, coaxing you to move towards him. You oblige, scooting right to the edge of the mattress. Strong hands grip your legs, hoisting your feet up onto his shoulders, exposing you perfectly to him. You feel more vulnerable like this, and it makes you antsy as you wait for him to slide back in. When he does, you see stars. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting spots it couldn’t before. You watch as he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck prominent as he clenches his jaw, a guttural groan escaping him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking back down at you with sincere eyes. “How’d I get the most perfect girl on the planet?”

And then he bends down, your legs still hooked over his shoulders, your body practically folded in half now. You nearly scream out his name, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the space. He leans down to kiss you, his lips and firm against yours, muffling your pretty noises. He pulls away, letting out a smug little chuckle at the way you instantly moan for him, noticing the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

“Gonna cry for me, baby? My cock feels so good you’re gonna cry about it?” he teases, watching your brow furrow in concentration as you get closer and closer to release.

“You’re very — fuck — very fucking modest,” you choke out, trying and failing to bite back your whimpers.

He laughs again, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you fucking love it,” he murmurs, teeth biting at your earlobe before he pulls away. “I can tell you love it, cause you’re suckin’ me in like you were made for me.”

You let out a whine at his words, pinching your eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he continues to split you open. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop,” you plead, your body jolting with every harsh thrust he gives you.

He grunts as he fucks you faster, watching in awe as your tits bounce on your chest. He can feel how soaked you are for him, can see your cream pooling around the base of him when he sheathes himself fully inside.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps, leaning down to kiss along your jawline.

All you can get out is a wobbly “Uh-huh,” nodding your head to the best of your ability. His fingers dig in to the meat of your thighs, a dull ache from his harsh grip barely noticeable in the back of your mind. One hand moves from its spot on your leg to reach down and play with your clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing quick circles over it.

Your back arches off the mattress, your legs shaking as you cry out his name. A few more deep thrusts and you’re plummeting over the edge for the second time tonight, your cunt tensing up around him over and over. The way your walls flutter around his cock brings him dangerously close to release, and he pulls his cock out quickly before he’s pumping it in his fist. All it takes is a few strokes before ropes of his cum are covering your body, splattering over your bare chest and stomach.

You let your legs drop from his shoulders, aching as you stretch them out. You feel like you’re made of rubber, limbs wobbly as your feet drop to the floor.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say, staring up at his ceiling as he chuckles at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he says, shaking his head with a sweet little smile. He stretches, muscles flexing as he raises his arms to the ceiling, cocking an eyebrow at you when he catches you staring.

“Says you…” you reply, pulling the sheets up to hide your face, suddenly shy.

“Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks, holding out his arm for you, pulling you up when you take his hand.

When you step out of the shower with him, after your body has been cleaned and every inch of your skin has been kissed by his soft mouth, he gives you his big clothes to put on. You change and brush your hair, letting his hands hold your waist as he tries to invade your space to kiss you even more. You can’t help but admire his face, even more gorgeous now that his Halloween makeup is washed down the drain.

You both shuffle out of the bedroom carefully afterwards, trying to gauge how much the party has died down, only to be met with a laugh from the opposite end of the hallway.

Your head shoots up, seeing Gareth and Chrissy stepping out of his room, looking wildly similar to you and Eddie; costumes off, makeup off, a few extra hickeys on Gareth’s neck. Chrissy’s mouth hangs open, her eyes flitting from you to Eddie and back again.

“I told you!!” she shouts, giggling before Gareth takes her hand, pulling her down the stairs with him.

You try to bite back a smile, heat creeping up to your face.

“What exactly did she tell you, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks down at you, pulling your body to his. His cocky expression gives you the hint that he already has an idea.

“Shut up, rockstar.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic

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goldustwomun · 7 months ago

Text

bags (s.h.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!

wc: 2.2k+

note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)

Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags

You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.

Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.

You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.

It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.

And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.

“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.

Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.

“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.

So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.

He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.

He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.

The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.

And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.

“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.

“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"

His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”

“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.

“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.

“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”

And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”

He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”

You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.

“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—

“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.

“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.

“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.

His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”

“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.

“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.

“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.

“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.

“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal. “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.

He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”

He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #bags

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papaya-twinks · 2 days ago

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me? forget - l.n 🎈

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

“Morning, baby,” Lando smiled, walking into the kitchen behind you, his torso bare as he huffed you from behind. You could feel his chest pressed to your back, his arms round your waist, fingers sliding over your bra, his curls tickling your jaw as he held you to his body.

“Extra affectionate today,” you said, giggling as he pressed a warm kiss to your shoulder, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your panties. “Mmm, can’t help it,” he mumbled, “you look hot in this,” he tugged on the white shirt you had on, unbuttoned.

“Mhm,” you hummed, ducking under his arm to continue making your tea, tying your hair into a messy bun as you worked. “Should I get, like, snacks for upstairs?” Lando smiled, flashing you his goofy grin as you raised a brow, blinking in confusion.

“Why’s that?” you asked, turning your attention back to your tea cup, missing the way his smile fell slightly. “Y’know, we’re gonna stay home and cuddle and…stuff,” he shrugged, walking back to you to kiss your neck, only to have you duck under his arm once more.

“No we’re not,” you frowned, “I have some stuff to do,” you said, grabbing your car keys from the dish on the side. “Oh…okay,” Lando said, forcing a smile onto his face as he watched you leave, going up the stairs, a frown on his face. Had he done something wrong?

You’d never forgotten his birthday, or your anniversary or anything like that, has he done something? Had he forgotten yours or something? Lando stayed upstairs, not even bothering to come down when he heard your car rolling into the driveway, thinking to himself.

“Hey Lando,” you smiled, walking into the room as you placed your bags down, met with nothing but a half-hearted grunt and an incoherent mumble. “Enjoy the shops?” he finally said, not lookin up from his phone. “It was…just a shopping trip, nothing to enjoy,” you frowned.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, turning on his side, his back facing you as you sighed. “Can you go out and grab me some snacks?” you asked, “I’m feeling a bit sick of driving, cramps and stuff,” you lied as he rolled his eyes, shrugging and standing up.

“I guess,” he mumbled, grabbing the keys and leaving. Perfect. As soon as he left, Carlos, Max F and a bunch of his other friends crept in, as you’d gone to pick them up instead of going to the shops, a bright grin on your face.

“God, you look happy,” Max said, nudging you as you followed them into the house, grabbing all the balloons from whet your stuffed them into the closet. “How can I not be?” you said, dumping a bunch of balloons around the place, turning some lights to purple.

“He was kinda, like, pissed at me, I think,” you said, half-grimacing as Carlos helped you hang up some decorations, Max working on wheeling out the three-tier cake onto the middle of the table. “Coz of the whole ‘forgetting his birthday’ thing?” the Spaniard asked as you nodded.

“Maybe a surprise party wasn’t such a good idea,” you said, chewing on your lip as Max sighed. “There’s not much we can do now,” Carlos said, “it’s happened now, so we might as well make it special for him, no?”. He was right, now all you had to do was wait for Lando to come back.

“Surprise!” you all cheered as Lando walked into the too, looking bewildered as he walked into the room, weakly clutching his bag before he blinked a few times, his eyes widening.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he immediately went to you, all his earlier coldness forgotten as he dumped the bag in the couch. Max and Carlos popped some confetti things as you grinned, slinging your arms round his neck as he blinked at you, confused. “I-I thought you…forgot my birthday, I-,” Lando rambled, a smile sliding onto his face.

“Bullshit, like I’d forget your birthday,” you said, squeezing his side as he pushed your hand away, a smile on his face as he kissed your jaw. “Knew it wasn’t like you,” he said, his cheeks tinged slightly pink as he swayed on the spot, watching his friends parade around in celebration for his birthday.

“I fucking hate you,” he said, watching in awe as Max lifted the knife, handing it to Lando to cut the cake. “God, I love you,” he said, pulling your hand onto his as he cut the cake, the slice falling perfectly onto a paper plate. “I love you,” he said again, kissing you once more.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris x you #f1 #lando norris smut

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sugawhaaa · 4 months ago

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ATEEZ X READER

Just want attention, fuck this tension

Warnings::SMUT

Genre:: nipple play, teasing, that's about it for now

Pairing::ot8!ateez! X fem!reader

A/N:: Tumblr decided to enrage me and POST THIS EVEN WHEN I TOLD IT NOT TO. So now this is going to be split into two parts 💔 I am so mad rn

You knew what you were doing was quite terrible. This job was almost like a last resort that you managed to get through pretty privilege. You basically kissed your human decency away as soon as you agreed to the job. You were going to be a sex toy for the one and only ateez.

They're all grown men after all but they don't have time to meet women and actually hook up with them. Sure they can often go to clubs but they get tired really quickly from all the partying that comes along with it. They just needed someone they could casually have sex with whenever they wanted and somehow the company agreed to let them pick out a girl to ask. You were that lucky girl and today was your first day as…a whore.

Considering the circumstances you were given a key to access their house and a room of your own to live in. It wasn't much and of course you'd be allowed to leave quite frequently but when night rolled around you were completely and utterly theirs.

You hesitantly stuck the key into the door and pried it open to find the house empty and quiet. You called out softly into the empty room. “Hello?” You step into the entryway and shut the door behind yourself. You put the keys back in your bag and saw a little space where they put all their jackets, shoes, purses, and bags. You slipped off your shoes and set them in the pantry before hanging up your bag. Their house was fancy yet it still held this homey aura. It was calm and cozy but when you got to the kitchen you noticed a pile of dishes that were probably put off for days due to their busy schedules. You decided to put some calm morning music on as you did the dishes for them almost as if to say thank you for letting you into their private life.

Midway through doing the dishes you heard someone stirring away. You had to mentally prepare yourself to talk to them and try not to sound creepy for letting yourself into their house. A tired Hongjoong stepped into the kitchen, startled to see a woman in their house. “Good morning,” you smile with pink cheeks.

“Morning?” Hongjoong chuckled as he walked up to you. “You must be Y/N right?”

“Yes,” your eyes scan his body up and down. “No one answered the door so I thought I'd just…” your words trail off as the embarrassment sinks in.

“I don't blame you,” Hongjoong swished his hand, brushing off your embarrassment. “So, have you done this kind of job before?” He crosses his arms, raising a brow. He wanted to get to know the girl he'd be offering to his members, perhaps even going for a test drive.

“Well not necessarily, I'm not a…virgin but I haven't had many jobs that would include a skill list of these things,” you chuckle and finish rinsing the last dish. “The way the company described it, it didn't seem like I had to have any previous, serious, experience,” you explain as you start drying dishes. Hongjoong seems interested in your words, leaning against the wall and nodding. “It sounds like I'm mainly just to be used…for my body,” you explain, avoiding eye contact. Hongjoong was bare faced, with messy hair and still in his pajamas. This was enough to make any woman fold.

“I see why you would think that,” he starts before walking over to you. “But, I at least, don't think of you like that,” he smiles. “I want to spoil you, I want to care for you,” Hongjoong gently brushes his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. “I want to give you all the attention you deserve,” he brings his hand from your shoulder to your chin, making you look up at him. He smiles softly as he analyzes your features. Then you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Ya done?” San stands with a mug of coffee and a purple housecoat draped around his body. His hair was also messy, spikey almost, and his bare face was going to make you do backflips. Hongjoong chuckles and turns to San.

“San, meet Y/N. She's the girl I was talking to you about the other day, our little dove,” he pats the back of your head as San walks over to you. It was clear San wasn't fully awake, not in the right headspace, as he analyzed you.

“She's pretty,” he smiles softly before walking off to make some breakfast. As the morning goes on the members all arise, most of them are in similar conditions as the first two. Two of them however wake up full of energy, Wooyoung and Yunho. Wooyoung is over the moon excited to have a girl in their home to hang out with, sexually or not he's excited. Seems like not only Hongjoong was excited to have a girl to watch over. Yunho was nervous at first but he quickly adjusted and got comfortable with you.

Wooyoung was the main one to show you around their humble abode. It wasn't massive but it was homey. On your little tour you finally met Mingi. He was in the washroom with the door half open, brushing his teeth without a shirt and sweatpants. That was something you were going to have to get used to when living with a bunch of 20 year old men. Mingi was unphased, giving you a little smile and wave. You could only blush and wave back. Wooyoung then dragged you down the hall telling you which room was who's and helping you settle into your own room.

Their house was kind of split in two. Furthest to the left you had a hallway with a bathroom and five rooms, one a massive storage room. Then there was the massive living room with beautiful windows. On the other half of the building it was much the same. Five bedrooms, one a guest room, one washroom, the kitchen and dining room. In between both sides was a gaming room or just a place to hang out. Their house wasn't the cleanest you've seen but it was very clean for a kpop group you must admit.

After your encounter with Mingi, Wooyoung took you to the living room with a TV and a very long couch. Wooyoung sat you down, gave you the remote, and asked if he could get you a snack or drink of sorts.

“Give the woman a minute to breathe,” San ruffled Wooyoung's hair, leaning over the back of the couch. You were startled by his sudden voice and turned to look at him.

“Yeah don't worry so much Wooyoung she'll get used to it all,” Jongho said, sitting next to you with a plate of breakfast.

“Dude, how many times do we have to say you shouldn't eat in the living room,” San sighs with a shake of his head. You watch back and forth as the members converse. The members were quite entertaining even when they were just talking like this. Surprisingly the day went on quite normally for them, or at least a normal vacation day for them.

After lunch you went back to the couch and opened your phone. You went to the notes app and started writing down some speculations about each member. Based on the conversation you had with Hongjoong he seems to be leaning toward the dominant type. He's definitely got a possessive side to him and maybe even controlling in some ways. He could potentially have a thing for “daddy” type prompts, but it's definitely not set in stone.

Seonghwa so far is a closed and locked book. You haven't talked much with him and he doesn't even really seem interested in you. Not a good sign, that's for sure considering your job is to make them want you basically.

Yunho was shy at first but quickly got used to you after some small chatter. He is pretty mysterious right now but something tells you he's gonna be an interesting card in bed. He definitely knows what he's doing.

Yeosang is also kind of a mystery. He doesn't talk much which doesn't give you many leads at all. The less a person talks to you, the less you get to grasp their personality and make some guesses on the intimate life. He seems pretty shy and timid which could leave the door open for being dominant with him. Or he could be the type of guy who's all cute and rainbows until they're pounding into you. Once again, he's a mystery.

San is pretty relaxed, a chill vibe flows from him. This could be brought into intimate hours as well. He's probably the type of guy who likes lazy sex or pure intimacy and love. Something deep downs telling you he likes spoiling his girl as well but there's no actual lead to that yet.

Mingi is a wildcard as well. He wasn't shy at all when you saw him half naked but that means nothing about him. You get the vibe from his energy that he's pretty rough in bed, doing all kinds of kinky things but deep down he's gotta have a submissive side. There's no way he can't.

Wooyoung is a gleaming ball of energy when it comes to you. Whether he's excited to fuck you up or be fucked by you is once again a mystery. The first time with him will probably go something like, you touch one part of his bare skin and he'll shatter beneath you.

Jongho seems to not really care much for you either, which is also bad. But you can't ignore the way he acts with you. He may treat you like a big sister most of the day but there were odd times where he'd look your body up and down in a hungry way. He's interesting for sure…

As you type out these notes you feel eyes peering over you and turn to see Mingi intently reading each word. Your face turns red and you shut off your phone. Mingi looks up at you with a frown.

“Hey I just started reading mine,” he pouts and you sigh in relief. How embarrassing would it be if he got to read his own.

“Good,” you retort back and he gasps, over acting way too much.

“Oh you wound me princess,” he puts a hand to his head and you sigh. Mingi chuckles before leaning closer to you again. “So you think Hongjoong has a daddy kink?” He tilts his head and you instantly freeze up.

“W-Well it's just an assumption, I don't know for sure yet. These are all things just to test out,” you explain and Mingi nods.

“Well I can say for sure that Yunho's is pretty damn accurate,” he smiles and looks at the TV. He takes the remote from the side tables and turns it on. “Yunho is a huge flirt when he's alone with someone he likes. From what I've heard and seen he seems to be kinda rough as well,” Mingi informs you as he scrolls through Kdramas.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” You raise an eyebrow as you turn your phone on, writing down all of Mingis comments on Yunho.

“Why not?” Mingi shrugs and you hum. Yup that sounded like a good answer. You turn your phone off and shove it in your pocket. You stand up before turning to Mingi.

“Does it matter which washroom I use?” You chuckle and Mingi shakes his head. You rush to the washroom and try to compose yourself. These men were going to be the death of you. Constantly creeping up on you and blinding you with their good looks. You needed to get a grip, it was your job to be flirted with, used and essentially fucked. You needed to get yourself together. While you wash your hands you look over at their shower. Maybe it'd be a good idea to get a shower and clear your head. You nod to yourself and dry your hands.

When you exit the washroom you look down the hall to Hongjoongs room. You gently peer in with a little knock. Hongjoong looks up at you from his phone. He takes off one headphone before saying “hey Y/N, what's up?” He smiles and you chuckle softly.

“Hey uhm would it be alright if I got a shower?” You smile.

“Of course,” he says as he stands up off his bed, taking off his headphones and leaving them on the bed with his phone. “Here I'll help you get it ready,” he offers and you thank him kindly. He gets you a towel and hangs it up for you before telling you how the shower works. The shower head had three different modes but the temperature handle worked like any other. He shows you the shampoos and conditioners they have that you can borrow. They get a lot of samples of stuff from skincare and haircare places for you to use. He nods before closing the door. “Have fun,” he laughs and you laugh back.

“I'm sure I will,” you smile before undressing. You turn the shower on to test the temperature. Absolutely scorching, perfect. You use the sampler hair products and borrow some of Hongjoong body wash that he said you could use. When you got out of the shower you used the prepared towel and as you dried off your hair the scent of the ateez members filled your lungs. The towel smelt just like them and it made your heart skip a beat. It's a no-brainer that the towel would smell like them, or more so their laundry detergent, but it felt amazing. You felt like a part of their crew now. You dry off and wrap the towel around your body snugly

You turn the shower on to test the temperature. Absolutely scorching, perfect. You use the sampler hair products and borrow some of Hongjoongs body wash that he said you could use. When you got out of the shower you used the prepared towel and as you dried off your hair the scent of the ateez members filled your lungs. The towel smelt just like them and it made your heart skip a beat. It's a no -brainer that the towel would smell like them, or more so their laundry detergent, but it felt amazing. You really felt like a part of their crew now. You dry off and wrap the towel around your body snugly. You collect up your clothes and phone before walking out to your room. When you open the door simultaneously, one of the bedroom doors opens. Yeosang innocently looks at you, his eyes traveling down slightly.

Yeosang chuckles before running off to the kitchen. You brush it off and go to your room. You dry your hair, brush it, put it up and start unloading some more things from your bag. For today you didn't bring much but in time there would be much more in your room. As you unpack the scent of cooking meat fills your nose. It's not long after you hear a knock on your door and Seonghwa creeps the door open.

“Dinner is ready,” he smiles warmly. He was wearing a cozy sweater and his hair was half put up by a claw clip. Strands of his black hair remained in his eyes and face. You thank him and go out to the dining room. San from the kitchen asks you how much and what you'd like.

“We have bulgogi set out on the table but we also have some glass noodles and mandu back here because somebody couldn't choose just one thing to eat tonight,” San scowls at the younger two members. You chuckle and ask for a mix of everything. San comes out with two plates in hand. As he puts the plate in front of you, you can't help but notice his muscles in his tight black shirt. Your eyes linger over his pecs for a moment before he sits down next to you like a smile. You look up at his face with pink cheeks and he playfully raises his eyebrows before digging into his food.

On the other side of you was Wooyoung. You look over at him eating before shifting your gaze over to Seonghwa who was looking right back at you. His chin was tipped down and he looked up at you with hooded eyes. You blush and look away but unbeknownst to you he doesn't. Next to Seonghwa is Hongjoong, eating elegantly but quickly. On the other side of Seonghwa is Yunho, sophisticatedly eating his food as well. You pick up your chopsticks and look down at your food before hesitating.

“Do you not want this?” Wooyoung looks at you with worried eyes, gesturing to your plate.

“No, no I'll eat it, it's fine,” you smile and bring your chopsticks down to your glass noodles, mixing them around.

“Here try some of the mandu,” Wooyoung picks up some Mandu from your plate and holds his hand under it, in case anything spills or he drops it. “Open~” he smiles and you hesitantly do as he asks. You open your mouth and he guides the food into your mouth. Your eyes widen. The flavors dancing on your tongue. “Good right?” He smiles and takes a napkin, wiping your chin and bottom lip from the soy sauce. You nod with a smile and you can feel a gaze piercing your soul from behind you. You swallow your food and go to pick up your glass. San picks up the cup before you can.

“No, no, let me,” he sits up and gently holds your chin, guiding the rim of the cup towards your mouth.

“I-I can do it myself san,” you chuckle with pink cheeks as the members watch the kdrama unfold.

“Stop talking or you'll choke,” San chuckles before bringing the glass to your lips, tipping it up so the water flows into your mouth. He pulls the cup back and lets you swallow. He smiles, satisfied with his competition with Wooyoung. Wooyoung clears his throat before continuing to eat. You look around awkwardly before continuing, the entire time you could feel their eyes on you, especially Seonghwa's. His gaze didn't feel the same though. It felt more predatory.

After finishing eating Wooyoung and Sans antics don't cease, only begging for your attention more. You stay at the table in respect, waiting for the rest to finish. San brings his hand up to your hair, brushing it out of your face. “Your hair is so soft dear,” he smiles and Wooyoung frowns.

“Don't put your hands in her hair, you just finished eating. What if you get soy sauce in her hair?” Wooyoung interrupts your intimate interaction.

“You put your hands all over her face when you were feeding her,” San crosses his arms. Hongjoong groans and leans back in his chair.

“You two stop bickering,” Seonghwa chimes in. “Or take it to another room. Everyone's finished eating now,” Seonghwa says before taking a sip of his water. San and Wooyoung mumble under their breath before parting ways.

“I'm going to workout, you wanna join Y/N?” San leans over the back of his chair as Hongjoong starts collecting up the plates.

“Thank you but I'm good, I need my food to sit for a while,” you smile and put your hand to your stomach. In truth, seeing San in that state might just make you go feral, lose your train of thought and act on impulse. San shrugs and heads to the active room. You help the two eldest members clean up after dinner and as the night grows near you feel butterflies stirring up in your stomach. You needed to talk to them about what they wanted to do to you but how could you casually bring that up? After contemplating for a while you go to Hongjoongs room, knocking on the door as you enter cautiously. “hongjoong? Can we talk for a minute?” You ask and Hongjoong instantly helps you into his room.

“Sure Y/N, come in,” he smiles and guides you to his bed before shutting the door behind you. “What's up?” He asks softly as he sits next to you on his bed.

“Well I have been thinking about plans for tonight,” you explain and Hongjoong nods. “There are many ways we can go about it but…I thought it'd be a good idea if I started with you,” you explain and Hongjoong turns to you, surprised by your offer.

“As honored as I am to be your first out of all the members, I have to say…I think it'd be best if we talked to them first,” he smiles and brings a hand up to your hair. “All of them want you so bad, they can hardly control themselves. Myself included,” Hongjoong laughs.

“Really? Even Seonghwa and Yeosang?” You look at him surprised and he nods.

“Of course, especially Seonghwa. Have you not seen the way he's been looking at you? The poor guy can't keep his eyes to himself,” Hongjoong laughs. “During dinner he kept staring at your chest and lips. When you helped us clean up his eyes were glued to your ass, attentively watching it,” Hongjoong chuckles as he calls out his friend. You blush, shocked to hear such things about seonghwa. “Trust me all of the members are going crazy over you,” he smiles and twists a strand of your hair around his finger. “Why don't we call them all out to the living room and we can talk?” Hongjoong proposes. You nod softly and Hongjoong kisses your cheek before standing up. You're taken aback by the sweet gesture but quickly follow after him.

You eventually get all the members together in the living room and Hongjoong gets the ball rolling for you. “So our little dove here wanted to know what approach you guys wanted to try tonight,” Hongjoong explains as he looks at you. “I know you're all itching to give her all the attention she deserves but we need to be gentle with her at first remember,” he reminds everyone and you blush. They made you feel so delicate and cherished.

“We could start with something simple to ease into it, just start by stripping and getting comfortable with touches and stuff,” Yunho proposes and Hongjoong nods his head.

“That's smart. What do you say Y/N?” Hongjoong turns back to you and you smile with a little nod.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡SMUT♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“We can start now if you want,” you stand up with a smile. Hongjoong blushes but eagerly agrees. You stand in front of the surprisingly large crowd of men before taking off your shirt, pulling it off your head. Most members have a similar reaction, hungrily watching, except for one. Yeosang sitting on the furthest side of the couch, nibbling on his nail or finger tip while he bounces his knee. His eyes are glued to you but he seems more nervous than the rest. You pull off your socks and unzip your jeans, pulling them down until they pool at your ankles. You step out of them and put your clothes in a small pile on one of the furthest ends of the couch.

“You wanna stop here or keep going?” Jongho asks as you set your clothes near him.

“Let's stay like this for a while,” you chuckle before sitting back on the couch. Their couch was large, definitely enough to fit all of you with a lot of room to spare but suddenly Seonghwa and Hongjoong were sat closer to you than before. The other members all leaned forward to see better and you chuckle softly. “Don't be shy, you can move around to see better if you want,” you chuckle and Jongho instantly does as you suggest, sliding off the couch and sitting in front of your knees. You chuckle softly before feeling a hand come around your back to your waist. You turn and see Honjoong eyeing you up as he strokes your skin.

“Your skin is so soft baby,” he whispers in your ear, making your skin crawl. Seonghwa is suddenly unable to control himself. He leans down and bites your neck, sucking on the soft skin. You let out a small gasp at the feeling of his teeth and mouth on your skin. He begins to roll his tongue around your sensitive skin. Hongjoong is still rubbing your back and waist, searching for a soft spot or a weak point. Jongho just watches intently, watching all of your little reactions. Your eyes flutter shut from the feeling of their hands on you, their bodies pressed against you. You then hear whining. From one of the maknaes.

“Why do you guys always get to go first,” Wooyoung whines. You chuckle as he pouts.

“You can come over Wooyoung,” you smile as you look over at him.

“But where would I touch you? Seonghwa has your neck Hongjoong has the other side of your neck and your torso and Jongho is in the way of everywhere else,” Wooyoung crosses his arms and Jongho scowls at him.

“We'll make room,” you smile as you wave your hand for him to come closer. He Saunters over and you encourage him to sit on your lap. He sits down, embarrassed by how submissive he looks. You kiss his lips softly and he looks at you wide eyed. The two of you make out while you feel numerous sets of hands coursing over your body. You've lost track of whose hands are who's. You feel a hand, most likely Hongjoongs, come up to the back of your bra. He undoes each clip, one by one, giving you time to refuse if you wanted to. Finally all the hooks come undone and your bra loosens off your body. Surprisingly San is the first one to slide it off of your body.

His hands come around from behind you, sliding the silky fabric off your shoulders. He pulls it off your body before throwing it in the pile of clothes. Seonghwa instantly moves his lips from your neck to your chest. He circles his tongue around your nipple, biting it softly, licking all around the plump skin. His right hand comes up to your opposite breast, pinching and sandwiching the nipple between his fingers, occasionally groping the your entire boob as well. This leaves an opening for San to come in and bite at your neck, leaving his own marks before whispering in your ear ever so softly.

“We're going to make you feel so good tonight baby,” he smirks before running his fingers through your hair. You lean back as your eyes flutter shut. So many touches, so many lips, teeth, pinches, it was all so much but it felt like heaven itself.

As the group of them shower you with kisses and attention Yeosang and Yunho sit to the side. Yeosang seems a lot more shy and reserved than Yunho. Yeosang has a pillow brought up to his face, hiding himself, but his eyes are still glued to the scene in front of him. Yunho on the other hand is leaned back as he watches, his erection straining against his pants.

Yunho would hate to be the one to take things too far or move too fast but he can't resist discreetly touching himself through his pants. Yeosang glances down at Yunho but quickly adverts his eyes.

Mingi is on the other side of the couch from Yeosang and Yunho and he is barely keeping himself together, doing very similar things as Yunho except more discreetly. Mingi moves his hips slightly making his erection rub against the inside of his boxers.

You can physically feel the arousal growing in the room. You can taste it, you can feel it, you can hear it, you can smell it.

The group of men surrounding you start getting into as well, their bulges impossible to ignore. The pure lust in the air begins to engulf you, falling into the fantasies, bending to their will. Hongjoong is the first to initiate the real sexual touches. His hand trails down to your panties, gently searching for your clit. He feels the bud and presses down on it, electing a gasp from you. Hongjoong smirks widely knowing he's found the spot but Wooyoung remains in his way. Hongjoong removes his hand before pushing Wooyoungs chest lightly.

"I can't touch her when you're in the way," Hongjoong whines, and Wooyoung reluctantly joins Jongho on the floor. Jongho loves the sight above him, soaking in your lustful scent while watching the way your body squirms beneath the member's touches. Wooyoung on the other hand, not so much. He feels discarded, he wants to be the one touching Y/N, he wants to be the one making her whimper and squirm.

Hongjoong goes back to what he was doing, rubbing up and down your wet folds through your panties. "She's so wet already," he grins. "Look at her~" he cooes and the members are intrigued. Seonghwa is still occupied by your tits and San can't even see your core but Jongho and Wooyoung get a perfect view.

"Damn," Wooyoung says, hypnotized by the wet patch on your panties.

"Spread those little legs baby, show the Maknaes how wet you are for Daddy ~" hongjoong whispers into your ear making your stomach flip upside down and your pussy throb even more than it already was. Mingi catches wave of Hongjoongs words and runs over to you, sitting next to Jongho. to see your wetness, slightly nudging him. Mingi curses under his breath before extending his hand

"Hey we've been waiting patiently this whole time and you just barge in here and start feeling her up?!" Wooyoung whines but Mingi tunes him out entirely.

#ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez ot8 #part 1

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