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itsmarsss · 6 months ago

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Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!” You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo.

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time.

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.”

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings.

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round.

And you won. This time, you fucking won.

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together.

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused.

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again.

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power.

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new.

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird.

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open.

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time.

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too.

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise.

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing.

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you.

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face.

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you. His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw.

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real.

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise.

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?”

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout.

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it.

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor.

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet.

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses.

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin.

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.”

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear.

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more.

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance. He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?”

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that.

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.”

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it.

After a few minutes, he does.

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?”

He nods.

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon.

“I- yes. Yeah.”

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking.

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help.

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs.

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you.

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.)

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name.

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-”

You can feel his smile.

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more.

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet.

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive.

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.”

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out.

“What- what do you want me to do?”

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants.

He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light.

“Go on, baby.”

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs.

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally.

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now.

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside.

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out.

“Holy shit,” he agrees.

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you.

You roll your eyes at him.

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

#cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #miguel diaz #miguel diaz x reader #miguel diaz imagine #miguel diaz x you #cobra kai x reader #johnny lawrence #eli moskowitz #hawk #tori nichols #mars writes #miguel diaz smut #miguel diaz x reader smut

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hees-mine · 1 year ago

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𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Synopsis: A fun day out to the mall with you turns out to be not so fun when heeseung gets mixed emotions about your interaction with a cashier.

Warnings: smut, stepcest, step brother, cum swallowing, oral male receiving, multiple orgasms, white dragon 💀 (pls lmk if there’s another term for this because…) inexperienced reader, kissing pet names, jealousy, insecurities.

If you're uncomfortable with step relationships, this is not for you, so please kindly click off. Also they are both consenting adults. This is a work of fiction.

Genre: 18+, smut, minors do not interact!

WC: 2,176k

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

“Morning, little one,” heeseung smiles at you all tucked up on his chest, looking absolutely adorable in the early morning. How he wished to wake up like this every morning.

“Hi, Bubba,” you mumble into his chest, warm breath blowing on his skin as he stretches out his limbs.

“We have the day to ourselves. What do you want to do sissy?” He tucks your hair behind your ear, giving your forehead a tender kiss that you melt into.

“Oh! Bubba, can we go to the mall today, please, please, please?” There’s no way he could ever even think about saying no to your precious face. He’d take you to ten different malls if that’s what you wanted.

“Of course, bubbas got you. Go get ready. I’ll join you soon.”

“Okay!” He smiles when you excitedly jump out of bed and run to the bathroom.

He went to your bedroom, picking an outfit for you to wear so you could both match when you went to the mall together. Once he found the perfect fit, he joined you in the shower a couple of minutes later, and you both took turns washing each other before finishing and turning off the water to get ready for your evening trip.

“Bubba, what do you think about this one?” Doing a little twirl, you show off your baby pink dress, and he swears you look just like a princess, his princess.

“Looks good on you. My little sister is so adorable,” he says while stepping into the changing room, caging you against the wall. “Want you to wear this during our playtime tonight?” A chill ran up your spine when you felt his warm lips pressed against your ear. “Mmm, as a matter of fact,” leaning back, he gives you a look before ripping the tag off the dress because there was no way he wasn’t going to see you in this for the rest of the trip. You just stand there a flustered mess, still feeling a tingly sensation from where his lips touched your ear. “Come on, sis.” Taking your hand, he leads you to the register after you tuck your other clothes away in your purse before shyly walking with him to the checkout.

Heeseung doesn’t respond to the cashier because as soon as he got there, he could tell that the worker was checking you out. “Bubbas got it,” he tells you, putting a hand on your waist to show that you’re his as he reached into his pocket, pulling out his card, and swiping it.

You were used to him showing you affection, but not in public, and you couldn’t help but smile as his fingertips pressed into your waist softly.

Heeseung turns to you and sees you looking at the cashier, mistaking your shy smile for you showing interest in the worker. Little did he know his rationality was clouded by anger, and as soon as he thought you were interested in somebody else, his mood was completely ruined.

“We’re going home.” Dragging you out of the store, he ignores all your questions about why he suddenly wanted to leave and keeps you close to his side.

He angrily tossed your bags in the back, still ignoring you. “Bubba, what’s wrong?” A pout finds your lips, and upon hearing your voice, he finally starts paying attention to you cause it sounds like you were seconds away from crying. “Did I make you mad, bubs?” That’s the only thing you could think of at this point, and the last thing you ever wanted was for your big brother to be mad at you.

He sighs deeply and cups your cheek, shaking off his ridiculous thoughts cause he didn’t want you to be mad over his jealousy. “You love your bubba, yeah?”

“More than anything in the world,” you smiled.

“Then get in the back seat.” Unbuckling your belt, you frown slightly, wondering why, but you don’t question it, and seconds later, he’s sitting next to you in the back.

“Bubba, why-“

“Kiss me.” Cutting your words, he demands a kiss just so he could feel reassured that you still wanted him. Without hesitation, you lift yourself up off the seat so you could reach his taller frame and kiss him clumsily. “Show me that you love me more than anything else in the world.” he silently looked at his crotch, practically telling you what he wanted you to do to him.

When you saw his cock hard under his jeans, you smile, knowing that he got like that for you and only you.

You before him on your knees, placing your hand on his thigh and your other on his cock, pressing down slightly, a low hum emitting from his broad chest from your gentle touch.

His hums soon turned to soft moans as you began stroking it under his jeans. He whined and writhed in his seat. After about a minute or two , he couldn’t take the teasing anymore.

He didn’t bother checking his surroundings before unlocking his belt and pulling down his pants around his knees, freeing his stiff cock.

“Bubs,” you gasp at the sight. He was really hard, and big, veins riddled his entire cock, and the tip was shiny and wet.

His big cock twitches at the sound of your voice filling his ears. “Go on, sissy, make big Bubba feel good” he was pleased when you Immediately placed your mouth over the head and widened your mouth, slowly going down on him. “Yes,” he sighs, relaxing into the seat.

You moan, tasting something sweet on your tongue, and go further down until his tip is situated down your throat. “Remember how I told you to suck on it?” He leans back, eyes half open, spreading his arms to the headrests while he instructs you.

Pulling off his shaft, you look into his eyes, answering his question. “Like a lolli” he smirks at your words and nods, encouraging you to start sucking him off.

You gag the instant you start moving, but that makes you take him even deeper into your throat, if that was possible. The sounds he was making filled your ears and traveled straight to your core seconds later, the wetness that you’ve become accustomed to had stained the crotch of your panties.

The wet slurping sounds of you suckling on his dick filled up the car along with his moans, and nothing felt better than being the one that was able to make him feel good.

His hand stroked some hair out of your face, forehead creasing as he watches the way your swollen lips wrapped tightly around him, and he loved nothing more than seeing his thick base covered in your sticky spit. “Keep going, sis. Bubba feels so good.” he pets the top of your head as you look up at him, eyes nearly going crossed when you bury him deep down your throat. “So nice. Does Bubba feel good inside your mouth?” He manages to say in between heavy breaths the feeling of your warm and wet throat becoming too much for him to handle every little thing you did to him felt so so good he swears he’d let you suck him off every single day cause he was addicted to your sweet mouth.

You gag around him in response, and his body jerks up slightly from how nice it feels you’re so tight and wet for him all the time. “Bubbas gonna give you a sweet treat,” he smiles as your teary eyes gleam with excitement. “Want it?” You do your best to nod. “Yeah?” He moans out as you keep on sucking. “Cumming” he whispers, throwing his head back as his muscles tense with every spurt of cum he releases into your pretty little throat.

Your eyes squeezed shut, and you gagged uncontrollably, gripping tightly onto his thighs. When suddenly you felt something dripping out of your nose, you immediately pulled off of him, gasping and panting for air while he was still cumming all over you. “Fuck! Sissy, so good,” he growls as you stare at the white mess coating everything from his thighs, the back seat, and your face.

When he finally comes back to reality and sees the mess, his cock throbs at the sight, eyes flashing up to you, and he could have cum again when he saw you covered in his semen. He swears a little more cum dribbled from his tip as he notices the white trickle down your nose to your upper lip and your eyes filled with guilt and tears. “What’s wrong, sissy?” His voice comes out soft and gentle as he runs his fingers through your hair to soothe you.

“I-I made a mess,” you whine, lowering your head, but he’s quick to tilt your head up and make you look at him. What you considered a mess was his masterpiece.

“Nothing wrong with a little mess.” Blinking away your tears, you look at him innocently. “Big Bubba likes it messy.”

“Really?” You say in a hopeful tone, feeling less guilty about what you had done.

“Really” His smile makes your chest feel warm, and you sniffle a little, his cum still bubbling from your nostrils. “You did so good. Big Bubba is so proud of you,” he says, knowing that will make you smile, sensing that look in your eyes. You only ever looked like that when you had done something bad, but he wanted you to know you had done nothing of the sort. Everything you did for him would always be perfect in his eyes. “So cute” he smiles down at you gripping his base and collecting the cum from your lip on his tip. “Lick,” he orders, and you do, lapping his bulbous tip like a puppy would with water. “Taste good?”

“Yes, Bubba,” you chime.

“That’s my good little sister.” he strokes your cheek endearingly as you begin taking him inside your mouth once more. “Sissy,” he whines, feeling completely overstimulated, his nails digging into the headrests as he hunches forward.

“Wanna try again” you say enthusiastically after you pull off his cock for a breath of air, not knowing that he’s already spent, but of course he couldn’t say no to you.

He groans at the look of determination in your eyes, and feeling your throat around him once again hurts so good, but there’s no way he could stop you. “Go on, make your bubba p-proud,” he stutters and ruts his hips upward, tip nestled as deep as it could be.

Your tiny little whines vibrated on his thick shaft each time you gagged on him, tears spilling past your eyelids and chin coated in thick, stringy saliva.

The sight was pure fucking heaven. You looked like an angel between his legs as he fucked your throat into overstimulation. “Swallow it all this time, sissy I know you can,” he moans out in pleasure, shaking as little goosebumps form all over his sweaty skin.

You attempt to nod, Bobbing your head faster, and he lets go unloading his creamy like cum into your mouth. You could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, doing your best to swallow and make him proud. “Keep sucking it,” he whines, biting on his lip seeing your face covered in his cum was the fucking cherry on top. “Such a good sister for your big brother,” he shudders as you choke and pant, doing your best to swallow with him still in your throat.

Gulping all his liquid down, you shyly pull away from him, unintentionally making a quiet popping sound as you anxiously wait for his approval.

His head falls back against the seats, endless moans slipping past his parched lips, and he barely could comprehend if what just happened was even real. Still, when he gathered his bearings slightly and saw you sat prettily on your knees before him, he knows this was every bit of real, and he felt like the luckiest brother in the world to see you like this in front of him all covered in his cum solidifying that you're his. At least in his mind, you were his. “My good girl,” he smirks, pulling you up. “Knew you could do it.” he kissed your cheek as you shyly leaned away.

“Just wanna make you happy big Bubba” His eyes nearly roll back as he presses his lips on yours, not caring about his own cum getting in his mouth or on his face.

“You do, sissy. You make Bubba so happy,” he huffs out a breath, still overwhelmed by the head you just gave him. He can’t understand how you’re so good at it.

You hide in his chest, giggling softly.

He smiled at you, hugging you in his arms. “Wanna go home now?” You nod, and he grabs a few tissues from the glove compartment, cleaning you both off before helping you upfront and getting in on the driver's side to take you home.

You smile now that he was acting like himself happy again, and you felt so excited to go home cause you couldn’t wait to wear the dress for him during playtime.

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

Taglist @letapostropheesgo @skzcanmakemecream @astrologerkat

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen lee heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #enhypen hyung line #enhypen scenarios #heeseung fluff #enhypen fanfic #enhypen hard hours #heeseung x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen hard thoughts

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too-deviant · 8 months ago

Text

jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry.

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context.

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast.

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them.

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.”

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?”

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea.

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?”

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.”

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit.

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.”

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.”

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut.

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.”

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you.

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much.

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you.

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands.

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?”

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed.

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.”

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted.

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill.

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage.

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke.

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love.

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face.

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement.

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?”

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no.

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball.

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow.

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know.

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you.

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?”

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.”

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve.

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average.

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help.

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course.

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly.

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?”

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side.

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.”

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.”

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front.

He stopped laughing. You started laughing.

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?”

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath.

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come.

“Hey!”

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips.

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.”

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter.

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?”

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn.

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure.

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t.

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging.

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?”

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness.

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure.

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.”

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.”

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!”

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them?

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.”

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did.

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.”

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!”

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?”

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.”

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.”

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not!”

____________

“What’d you do to him?”

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?”

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?”

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment.

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?”

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly.

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.”

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #i am a hoe for loser!luke #i also know nothing about baseball #hence the very brief baseball scene #its just like rounders im pretty sure #but im not too confident on that #also reader maybe gets claimed in the next part #wink wink

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thenickgirl · 5 months ago

Text

DETOUR

bf!nick x male!reader

summary: in which things between Nick and Y/N get steamy on route to their romantic anniversary getaway.

genre: fluffy smut ✩ pov: idk i was just typing ✩ word count: 2.2k

warnings: swearing, use of pet names, slight rimming, anal sex, public-ish sex, choking, overstimulation, bottom!nick, top!reader.

a/n: good evening, sluts ((affectionate))!! finally, my first fic ever *crowds cheers* it’s also kinda my first smut (i’ve written smutty blurbs and HCs before) so yeah let’s just be cool about it. umm i’d love to hear your thoughts, but as you all know i do like to tussle, so please keep that mind before you say anything crazy lulz. nick nation, i love you so bad. happy reading and HAPPY PRIDE!! 🌈��️‍🔥

“I can feel your blood pressure riseeee, FUCK this tennnnsion” Nick sang along loudly as the two of you were on the way to your destination. You were only a few hours away from the condo you booked to celebrate your second anniversary. “God, I fucking love this song. Can I play it again?” Nick looks over at you, playfully biting his bottom lip. “Babe, we’ve already listened to it 5 times” you say chuckling, stealing a glance at him, but trying to keep your eyes on the road ahead. “This is the last time I swear,” he says as he picks up his phone, and before you could even rebuttal, he starts the song over, looking at you, grinning from ear to ear. You shake your head laughing, deciding if you couldn’t beat him you might as well join him. The two of you vibing and singing along to ‘Detention,’ just enjoying the ride to your romantic getaway.

“Y/n how much further? I feel like we’ve been driving for fucking ever,” Nick sighs turning down the music now as he looks over at you, his eyes darting between your face and the gps. “We? I’m the only one driving here, babe” you tease and Nick rolls his eyes. “Shut up! You know exactly what I meant,” he slaps your arm playfully, causing you to fake being hurt. “We’re only two hours away baby, just relax,” you assure him. Nick groans, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks out his window, taking in the scenery. The road you were currently on was pretty desolate at this point, just a bunch of land and dirt roads. You gently place your hand on to Nick’s knee, causing him to look at you. “You okay?” you ask, your brows furrowed with concern. “Yeah, I’m just ready to get to this house and start our mini vacation,” Nick says as he smiles, grabbing your hand and kissing it softly, the butterflies in your stomach erupting.

As you continue down the road a good while, you notice your boyfriend getting antsy, having listened to your shared playlist twice already, the brunette was beginning to get bored. You glance over at him, he sat with his legs apart, his arm against the door and his head in hand, staring at the road in front of you. You smile to yourself, finding his childish behavior adorable. Taking your right hand off the wheel, you place it on Nick’s thigh, the loving gesture being nothing new to him so he doesn’t budge. You slide your hand up a little higher, squeezing his thigh lightly, at this he looks down at your hand before his eyes dart up to your face. You share a quick look, before you turn your head back to focus on the road. You can see the smirk forming on the brunette’s face from your peripheral, your cheeks beginning to heat up as you get an idea.

You squeeze his thigh again, this time a little harder causing him to gasp. “Y/n what are you doing?” he says looking over at you, surprised. You shrug, “I’m not doing anything, my love” you utter, giving him a quick glance. Nick stares at you glaringly, his eyes narrowing as he studies the side of your face before looking back ahead of him once more. Your hand that’s still cupping his thigh moves dangerously close to his groin and Nick’s breath hitches. “Babe, I swear if you keep doing that-“ “then what? hm?” you cut him off as you look over towards the brunette, your brow raised as you question him. You begin to guide your hand over his clothed cock, palming him slowly. Nick moans softly, his cock already hardening from your touch. Still focusing on the road, you continue to palm him, and your boyfriend groans, biting on his lip, his hips bucking into your hand.

The sound of Nick sighs and moans only spur you on more as you dip your hand inside of his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his cock, your thumb circling the tip. Nick began to pant as you stroke him slowly, his mouth open and his eyes rolling back. You smirk as you quicken your pace only to slow down again, teasing him. “Fuck, y/n I- please,” he says between gasps. “Please what? Talk to me, tell me what you want, pretty,” you encourage as you continue to work his length, squeezing his tip lightly driving him insane. “I-I want you to fuck me, p-please.”

“Hm, I guess we can take a little detour.”

You pull over to the side of the road, there hadn’t been any other cars for miles, so you figured this would be okay. The two of you waste no time, hastily climbing out of your respective doors and flinging yourselves in the backseat. Nick practically jumps onto your lap, his soft lips connecting with yours hungrily. You smile in between the kiss before pulling away, “Eager aren’t, we?” you chuckle making the brunette blush. “Shhh,” he shushes before connecting your lips once again, the kiss more passionate than before.

He gasps as you lift him off of you by his waist, laying him down on to the seat gently, hovering over him. Pulling away from the kiss, you lift his shirt up and off of him, your lips trailing down his neck, sucking and nipping at his delicate skin, leaving a mark that he will no doubt complain about later. Nick moans, bucking his hips up against you, trying to gain any type of friction. You grab his hips quickly and hold them, smirking down at your needy boyfriend. “Why so desperate, baby? Don’t I always give you what you want?” you question, smirking as you pull his gray sweats down and he only whines. You lean your head down, your mouth hovering over his clothed length as you look up at him, your eyes meeting his and they’re full of lust. “Answer me,” you demand, your warm breath against his cock making it twitch. “Y-yes, you’re so good to me,” he responds breathlessly, the anticipation unbearable.

You play with the waistband of his boxers, biting your lip as you pull them down and his cock slaps against his stomach. You let out a low moan, your mouth almost watering at the sight. Your eyes take in the brunette below you, not believing that someone so perfect could be yours. “You’re so handsome, baby,” you praise him before licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, earning a sigh from your boyfriend. Deciding that maybe you’ve teased him enough for one day, you take his length into your hand before placing your mouth on him. Nick moans loudly, his head falling back as you take more of him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. “Ohh fuck,” his hands find their way to your hair pulling roughly, the sounds of his moans going straight to your already hard and leaking cock. You take him deeper into your mouth, and down your throat, your name falling from his lips over and over. “Shit y/n, mm so good, love your mouth so much, baby” he pants heavily as his length hits the back of your throat making you gag.

After a few minutes you pull him out of your mouth with a pop. You sit up and place two of your fingers against his lips. “Suck,” you demand and he opens his mouth, his lips wrapping around your digits, licking and sucking on them as he looks you in the eyes, the intense stare making your cock twitch. Pulling your now soaking fingers from his mouth, you reach down and put them against his hole, circling first before inserting them carefully. Nick gasps as you guide your fingers inside before slowly pumping in and out of him. You continue to work him open, spreading your fingers apart, and scissoring them. You lean your head down, replacing your fingers with your mouth, licking and sucking around his hole. Your boyfriend moans at the sudden switch as you begin to eat him out, your tongue dipping in and out of him. “Oh my godd, yes yes yes,” his hands fly to your hair once you add your fingers again, as he rolls his hips against your hand. You move your fingers in and out, curling them and brushing against that sweet spot inside of him. The brunette is a moaning mess, his body shuddering from the pleasure. “I- Baby. Please fuck me,” he pathetically begs and after and few more pumps you pull away. Sitting up, you pull your sweats down along with your boxers, taking your cock in your hand, stroking it slowly before lining yourself up with his hole.

“You ready, baby?” you ask. He nods eagerly, biting hard on his lip as you push inside of him, a gasp escaping both of your lips. You start to thrust into him at a steady pace, the lewd sounds of your shared moans and skin slapping against skin only encourage you. “God, you feel fucking amazing,” you moan softly, loving the way your bodies mold together, and you were sure that he was made only for you. Leaning down you place wet kisses across Nick's chest, your tongue swirling around each nipple. He pulls on your hair, earning a low groan from you as his back arches at the feeling. “Mm fuck yes, making me feel so good,” he praises as you continue to fuck him senseless. He grabs you by your face and pulls you in, connecting your lips, your mouths moving together in a heated kiss, and you moan into his mouth, biting down on his lip before you pull away. Looking down into his eyes, you slide your hand up his body, your fingers finding it’s way to his throat, squeezing as you pick up your pace, fucking him harder. You watch as your boyfriend’s eyes roll back in pleasure, “You love getting fucked like this, don’t you? Like the slut you are. My pretty little slut, all mine,” you tease and he only moans in response.

“M’so close,” he whimpers, his body starting to shake. “Yeah? Gonna be a good boy and make a mess for me?” you say as you remove your hand from his throat and reach down to his length, still looking him in the eyes. You begin to stroke his cock, squeezing every time you reach the tip. “Oh, ohh fuck i’m cumming,” he moans out as he comes over himself, taking in how beautiful he looks as he comes undone under you. You continue to stroke him as you're still slamming your hips into him. “Y/n please, no. T-too much, s-so sensitive,” he whimpers, his body trembling from being overstimulated. “I know, I know but you can take it, pretty boy, I know you can,” you encourage as you start chasing your own high. Trailing your hands to his hips holding him in place as you begin pounding into him, his back arching as he nears his second orgasm of the day. “Ohh right there right there please don’t stop,” he moans as you continue hitting his prostate. “Shit baby,” you groan, feeling that knot in your stomach finally starting to come undone. After a few more thrusts, you come inside him as he comes on his stomach once again, panting heavily as you both come down from your high. You slowly pull out and lean down, licking up his cum before connecting your lips in a passionate kiss.

Once you both cleaned up and got dressed, you hop out of the car and back into the driver's seat, only to realize that Nick hasn’t moved. “Babe, what are you doing? C’mon or we’re gonna be late for our check in,” you chuckle at your boyfriend’s silly antics. “What if someone sees me? Oh my god, I can not do the walk of shame back to the front seat,” he says, his eyes widening as he covers his mouth with his hand. “Well I’m not driving ‘Miss Daisy’ so you better figure something out,” you laugh as you look at him through the rear view. Nick sits for a moment, checking his surroundings and thinking about his next move before climbing over the armrest and into his seat, sighing contently once he succeeds. “Oh you’re so dramatic,” you chuckle as you shake your head, putting on your seatbelt. Nick does the same, rolling his eyes at your statement, “Considering the fact that it’s been 2 years now, I can only assume that you love it,” he says looking over at you, smirking. “I do, and I love you,” you reply sweetly, your eyes locking with his. Nick leans over and pecks your lips softly, “I love you too. so. so. much,” he says between kisses. You pull away smiling at him, “I love you more,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his and he blushes. “No you don’t,” he scoffs before grinning. “You’re right, I don’t,” you tease before starting the car up again.

Nick gasps in shock, slapping your arm playfully, “ASSHOLE!” “Ow I’m kidding, I'm kidding,” you laugh as you put the car in drive, pulling back onto the road. “Yeah yeah,” his eyes narrowing at you, his lips later curling into a sweet smile as he picks his phone up again, starting your shared playlist over for the third time. ‘Agora Hills’ playing from the speakers as he reaches for the volume, turning it up, “Oh my god, babe, I loveeee this song!” he yelps excitedly, and you sigh deeply, shaking your head at the boy you couldn’t help but love.

“Oh, here we go.”

a/n: hiii again, so i tried to make this cute and sweet as well as smutty because it’s what my man deserves. i’m so sorry if this is awful, i really just wanted to see if i could actually write a real fic. also i didn’t know how to format this? so if it’s hard to read or follow, i could color code the dialogue if you think it’ll be helpful. a special shoutout to the gc for helping me out, my bitches always have my back, and i love them so much, thank you baes. if you did happen to enjoy this and want more, then my condolences to you because this stressed me the fuck out and i will probably never do this again 😭

🏷️: @muwapsturniolo @mattslolita @guccifrog @luverboychris @freshloveforthefit @matty-bear @mybelovednick @ohmtoff @nickgetsmewetter @nicksbestie @sturniolossss @imsosillygoofylol @moonk1ss3d @meg-sturniolo @ghostking4m @sturnioloslut @eden4eva @certifiednatelover @soursturniolo @m0r94n

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #mr stromboli #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #n fic #a fics #stromboli fics

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kombuuuu · 1 year ago

Text

Birthday Girl.

Earth42!Miles x Reader + Pavitr x Reader

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

Headcanons and snippets C:

i want to wife him

E42!Miles: Purple Pavitr: Orange You: Pink Rio Morales: Blue

Miles Morales:

Would wake you up with breakfast in bed

if it’s a day where he’s called in for a job he’ll fight Aaron on getting the day off for you

although, the fight wouldn’t last long

Aaron likes you too, so with a sigh and a pinch of his nose bridge, he concides

letting Miles have the day off but only with a promise of working him to the bone the next day over

he rolls his eyes but the smirk on his face makes his uncle scoff a laugh

so with breakfast in hand, he’s gently shaking you awake

whispering your name with the promise of food

your sleepy voice greeting him makes the butterflies in his stomach awaken

“[Name].. Wake up, Chiquita, I have breakfast.”

“Food? Hi, Miles.”

He smiles at your slurred words, and you peak your head from under your covers. Pulling yourself to sit up.

There’s a spread of breakfasts foods in front of you, all your favourites.

“Miles..”

“Happy Birthday, Mami.”

“I’m gonna kiss you.”

“I won’t stop you.”

Spoils you with gifts

literally anything he could’ve possibly seen that you even might have liked

designer shoes to match with him (Nike Airs)

Matching jewellery as well, literally adores matching with you

gets you a chain with his name on it and one with yours for himself

whether you like silver or gold he gets you some premium shit

likes the look of white gold so that’s what he got himself

would do genuinely anything you want him 2

takes you to your fav nail tech to get you both done

he lets you choose the colours but makes sure to include purple with his own

after he takes you shopping,

you tell him off

he literally already bought you so much

knows what he’s doing tho

“Miles!”

“Aye, ma. C’mere.”

“We’re not going in there.”

“Yes we are.”

He settles his hands along your waist, turning you towards the boutique.

“Miles— It’s expensive in—,”

“I have an opening booked for us.”

His monotoned voice dragged in your ear, a shiver in its wake.

“Wha— C’mon!”

“Don’t pout at me, Mami. Might have to take you home.”

“I’m not pouting—“

“Hi.”

“Hello Mr.Morales, Right this way, Please.”

“Mr.Morales..?”

take you both to a boutique to get you clothes for the night

let’s you try on any dress you want

you try and pick the ones that don’t look too pricey

he catches on pretty quick and ends up picking the dresses for you to try himself

makes you show off for him

likes how you look in expensive shit and makes it known

“Damn, ma. Gonna have to buy that one for a later date..”

“Baby, no event is going to come up anytime soon that big enough for a dress like this.”

“I’m a patient man.”

ends up getting something that complements both your nails and the matching jewellery

also buys the matching shoes

he had a huge thing for seeing you in heels, but if you prefer flats he’ll make the workers find you something

gets a suit for himself

he’s been here before so they know his measurements.

gets a simple white blouse, with a dark grey set, a matching waist coat with it. And a black tie to go with the black buttons on the waist coat and cuffs.

doesn’t really bother with shoes

just figured he’s gonna wear his normal shit

when checking out, he makes sure to distract you with talk on what he plans for the night

adding tidbits that have both you and the store clerk blushing

the poor clerk just trying to ring you up

He leant over to whisper in your ear, rather loudly for someone “trying” to be discreet.

“Can’t wait to take you home, Chiquita. Seein’ you all dolled up for me? Jesus..”

“Oh my god.”

“That’ll be—“

“I got it.”

The clerk handed you the bags quickly before printing the receipt and going to rush off.

“Thank you, Have a nice day.”

Miles’ rumbling chuckle made your knees weaken.

“Yeah, we will.”

Takes you home to get ready,

touching you the whole time you do your make-up

whether it’d be a hand smoothing down your shoulders, massaging you while you worked

or his grip on the expanse of your waist

or even his nails raking down your back, watching the goose bumps rise as he did, infatuated

eventually you were both ready

and it was late

he took you to a high end restaurant, Electric Lemon it was called

and when you walked in greeted by his family, mingling with yours

you might have teared up a bit

“Chiquita? You ok?”

“Mmha..”

“If it’s too much we ca—“

“No, Miles, I love it. I love you—,”

You turned to him, the small smile gracing his lips a rare but gorgeous sight.

“This is perfect, thank you.”

“Love you too, Mi Cielo.”

“Oh (Name)! Feliz cumple! No es linda? Miles hizo increible!”

“Oh! [Name]! Happy Birthday! Isn’t this so nice? Miles did amazing!”

“Momma, Please—“

'Oh! Y Aaron era tan secreto sobre lo que era -'

“Oh! And Aaron was all secretive about what it was—,”

She leaned close to you, whispering “-así supe que toda fue para ti”

“,—so I knew it was for you.”

She smiled sweetly at you while you giggled back. Thanking her for coming to see you. She waved you off, walking you an Miles over to Aaron as she spoke.

“No, no me das gracias. Tu eres mi hija. Sería un crimen no venir.”

“No, Don’t thank me. You’re my daughter, it’d be a crime to not show up.”

You glanced over to Miles, seeing the sincerity behind his eyes when watching the two loves of his life interact so sweetly. You smiled back in turn.

He whisked you away from the party, after a while. Taking you to the more secluded parts of the rooftop. Completely devoid of life, he cradled your head to his and kissed you earnestly. Putting his Heart and Soul into loving you.

You giggled into his mouth, watching him smile back. You dragged your finger down the centre of his braids, something he’d come to love you doing. He pulled back from you, watching you smile up at him. His eyes shining with an endless love.

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

—

he is so boyfriend coded

Pavitr Prabhakar:

will do similar to Miles, but not with breakfast in bed

will wake you up with flowers and kisses and an outfit he knew you liked set out for you

like i said in this, sleepy you makes him go insane

he’d let you sit with him a while whilst you woke up, and would smother you in love, whispering his praise to you

pulls you into his lap to look him in the eye while he confesses how much he loves you like it’s the first time all over again

“Thithli, you mean the world to me—,”

He massaged the flesh of your thighs, resting along his waist. He was flustered looking up to you, knowing you were there, with him, drove him farther head over heels.

“—You’re the love of my life, getting older with you is the greatest blessing of my life.”

“Pav.. baby..” You whined his name, waking up to such affections would be something you could never get used to.

“I’m so glad you exist with me, Shonu.”

You shoved you head into his neck, hiding your lovey-dovey smile from him.

“Love you, Pavitr..”

“Love you more, [Name].”

When you’ve woken up more

he coaxed you for a shower, taking care of you like the doting lover he is

pats you dry and helps you dress, then dresses himself

all while telling you how you make him whole, how you’re the reason he’s here and he’ll never be as happy as he is with you

it’s obsessive, but you’re just as bad

you tell him more in touches than in words, and he takes it in stride.

he’s come to know your love language, both of you sharing touch, but you take in the quality time trait as well

so he makes sure to drag the day out as long as he can

makes the morning slow, brings you his gifts and starts the food while you open them

he pets your cat and cooks, watching you out of the corner of his eye

He’d gotten you a set of bangles with small spiders engraved, crested in diamonds.

ones matching to the ones he wears

accompanied with a matching collar for your cat, which you smiled at

he’d also gotten you smaller, sentimental things likes references to your first dates, massage oils,

and things you’d said you liked in passing, that’d he’d remembered. because of course he had

he smiles when you shyly cover your mouth, looking down at the things he’d gifted with teary eyes

knowing how hard it is for you to accept gifts,

he doesn’t say anything, just turns the stove down and walks over to kiss you

“You okay, Jaanu?”

You looked up at him from the paper in your hands, nodding with a pout of your lips and a tremble in your voice.

“Yeah—, Yes, I’m good.”

He leant over to kiss your temple, smiling as he turned back to tend to the food, “Thank you, Pav.”

He glanced back over at you.

“My pleasure, Thithli.”

you lie in bed together for another two hours after you eat

just taking in each others prescience and letting the calming white noise of a distant show in the background soothe you

you hold him close, listening to his heart beat

when a song comes on he recognises and he sings to it softly, the contented sigh you let out is involuntary

he eventually gets you up again, since you’re already dressed, you feed your cat and leave

he walks you through the streets of his home, bringing you to his favourite spots

to feed the stray dogs with him, or to grip onto him and swing over the immense traffic

“Pav, If I fall, I’m blaming you.”

“Thithli, you won’t fall. I promise.”

“Okay.. But if I do—“ He grabbed your waist and hoisted you against him, shooting a web to a high building and swinging you up. Using his bangles to create more momentum and fluidity with his swings.

“Pavitr Prabhakar! I’m going to kill you!”

“Kiss me? Doesn’t really sound like a threat..”

“I swear—“

His sweetened laugh interrupted your spiel, and you couldn’t even be mad.

he eventually leads you back to his house

where your friends and family (his included), are waiting for you.

They greet you in tandem, with a cute, fairly out of sync “Surprise!”

the furniture in his house had been pushed into the far corners and the tiles of his family’s large lounging area had been made into a make-shift dance floor,

everything else being decorated in a very honest sense

and if there was a ache in your chest for the love you’d felt then, no one but you would know

all your spidery friends were there as well— only making the evening even more special

festivities shown were upbeat and exciting and you hadn’t felt more of a community than you had at that moment

When a lull in the upbeat songs play, and a slower, more set tone starts through the speakers—, Pavitr cuts in, taking you from Hobie, who shoots him off with a wink.

He holds you close, starting a slow dancing sway with you.

“How’re you finding it, Shonu?”

The lights dancing in your eyes make you evermore pretty to him.

“It’s—.. Its beautiful Pav, I’m so happy,”

People had started to sway with you, keeping the middle of the floor clean for you and your lover.

“,Thank you.”

“Only the best for you, [Name].”

You’d swayed with him for another minute before the end of the song had approached. Him twirling you out and catching you in a dip whilst you laughed and went along with it.

He brought you up into a quick, cheesy kiss.

“How romantic.”

“Cause I love you.”

Your voice quietened. “Love you more, Spidey.”

He stared at you a moment longer, placing a kiss along your temple once more.

“Happy Birthday, [Name].”

—

FOR MY BDAY GIRL @juneberrie 🥳🥳‼️

and ty to my lovely translator 🫶 @kissmxcheek

(PUT ME IN A CELL 💥💥⬇️)

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #pavitr my beloved #earth 42 miles morales x reader #atsv pavitr #pavitr x you #spiderverse pavitr #pavitr x reader #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x y/n

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sukiipjs · 9 months ago

Text

❧ POSITIVE

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ chris sturniolo x fem reader

↳ words - 717

↳ summary - you find out your pregnant and freak out, chris assures that it’s all going to be okay.

↳ contains - fluff, swearing, crying/panic attack, pregnancy, pet names (baby), use of y/n, idkkk

↳ song - nothing matters but you by madison beer

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

i’m currently freaking out, waiting for the pregnancy test to reveal its results. i’m a week late and i’m always the one to jump to assumptions so here we are. me and chris have seen together for about a year, maybe some day we would have kids but not now, definitely not now.

i’m pacing in the bathroom the test on the counter next to my phone with a timer, almost over. “oh my god, oh my god, fuuuck,” i mutter to myself, overthinking about everything that would change, everything that could go wrong, only thinking of the bad.

my timer going off stops me in my tracks and i walk to the counter, turning off my phone and peering over to look at the test, it’s positive. my mouth opens slightly as i stare at the test on the verge of tears. i grab another from the box and using that one, before i know it my timer goes off, positive, again.

“oh my god,” i bury my eyes in my palms, tears dripping down my cheeks as i cry into my hands, “no no no...” i grab the tests and sink down onto the floor leaning on the side of the bathtub, hiding the tests on my stomach as i bring my knees to my chest, burying my head into my knees, crying and crying. i don’t know if i’m sad, happy, confused, scared, excited, or all…

i don’t hear but the front door opens and chris calls out, “baby i’m here!” i ignore, not even sure if i did hear him. i continue crying on the bathroom floor, freaking out. i assume he hears me crying out when he opens the bathroom door to find me, “baby?” i cry even more, baby? hearing it now is totally different.

he kneels down on the floor in front of me, grabbing my hands off my knees to hold them in his hands as i lift my head up, “what’s wrong? talk to me,” i try to open my mouth to speak, it’s too hard. i cant. what if he leaves me? i don’t want to think of this right now.

“it’s okay.. it’s all okay, just what’s wrong?” he brings his arms around me, giving me a hug then going back to holding my hands. i can’t speak, all noise from me stops and i just sob. one of his hands reach to my face, wiping off some of my tears. i reach one of my hands to grab the tests that are on my lap, holding them tight until i drop them on the floor beside us. chris turns his head to see them on the floor, he picks up both, taking a moment to look and process what they are, “oh my god.”

he drops them back on the floor and i bury my head into my hands again, trying to hide myself from him. he reaches for a tissue box and setting it next to me, i left my head up again, my heart skipping beats, my breath hiccuping, tears running down my face. “y/n… it’s okay, breathe okay?” he smiles softly, his hand guiding mine to my chest, “focus on your breaths, you’re okay,” i start to take deep breaths until i catch my breath, grabbing a tissue and wiping off my tears.

“chris..” i say softly, my eyes puffy and nose red. “how.. how do you feel about this?” he smiles a little more, rubbing his thumb on the hand he holds, “you know i love kids,”

“yeah but we never thought about this now? your career and everything, this wasn’t supposed to happen now,” i sigh, i feel like my tears are coming back. he chuckles a little, “but it did happened now, we’re going to get through this okay? this is amazing, we’re going to have a baby,” he smiles even more, pulling me in for a kiss. now i start smiling too.

“i love you chris,” he kisses my forehead, “i love you too, and i promise, it’s all okay, yeah?” i nod, both of us smiling, and now i think of the good things. we’re going to be parents, us together, raising a child. there’s no one else i would rather to that with than him.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sukiipjs #𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐢𝐩𝐣𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝜗𝜚⋆#𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐢𝐩𝐣𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝜗𝜚⋆

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 4 months ago

Text

Monster Part 3

Description: Part Three of the monster series

Here is the other parts: Monster Part Two

Word Count: 2,252k

Author’s note: I will not be updating this until season 5

Y/n sat on the side of the camera as John looked so depressed and annoyed to be on FireCracker’s show. Y/N hated that he was but knew that he kinda had too. Victoria was also there and that was the exciting thing. But by the look on John’s face, he didn’t care. Of course FireCracker would praise John. That made both Y/N and John roll their eyes but John had to hide it better. He put on the fake smile that he learned to do.

Y/N zoned out during the whole thing until Homelander said something. “Ally Victoria, really?” Homelander laughed. Y/N sat up in her seat now listening. “We’re all here to tell the truth so.. Tell the truth.” Victoria looked a little scared and cleared her throat “The truth is…” But Y/N was more interested in what John’s response would be. “I’ll do it.” He says. Y/N’s heart was pounding but for once she enjoyed the show. “Victoria here is a super hero.” “Thanks for the compliment.” She said but that wasn’t what he meant. “It’s all true.” FireCracker said and this is where Y/N would zone out but this was interesting.

Y/N covered her mouth as it was exposed that Victoria was a supe. Homelander got up and walked away as Victoria tried to get his attention. Y/N sat in shock but John pulled her up to follow him. “I worked my whole life to keep that secret.” She told him. “Well secrets rot your soul.” He said and Y/N wanted to laugh. But she could tell this was very serious. “Baby, can you gave us a second?” He asked her and though she wanted to hear she agreed and walked away so he couldn’t see her as she listened to them.

“Your girlfriend is working with Butcher. You don’t think she’ll tell them?” “Why do you think I sent her away?” He growled at her. He really didn’t trust her? Her heart hurt at that but she didn’t walk away until they were done talking. She ran away before he could find her and called MM.

She sat on the table watching Frenchie work on the virus. She knew that eventually she’d have to pick a side but she felt safe with both and she would always side with boys no matter how much she loved John. “If I had another choice I’d take it.” MM said to Hughie over the phone. Frenchie flipped him off making Y/N laugh. He smiled at her, “So how are you and the bad Supe?” He asked. Y/N wished that he didn’t ask that. She was trying to keep them separate.

“Frenchie, you don’t have to act like you want to know about that.” She tells him. “I know but I also know where your heart truly lies.” He said. Did she even know? Y/N felt her phone vibrating so she looked down and saw that John was calling. She answered, “Where are you?” He asked not even saying Hi. “I am relaxing, why?” She said which wasn’t entirely a lie. “I need you home.” He said and she sighed. “I will be later.” “You’re with him aren’t you?” He asked but it sounded almost like a growl. “No. I have no idea where Billy is.” That was the truth. He sighed through the phone. “Whatever you’re doing, come home after.” He says and hangs up.

“Frenchie you stay here. Kumiko and Y/N you’re with me.” She wasn’t paying attention until her name so she looked up at MM. “Me?” She asked and he nodded. She got up and followed him out the door. “What’s the plan?” She asked as the walked. “We fucked up our offensive. All we got is defense.” He tells her. “About Victoria?” She asked. “And the virus.” Hearing about it made her sick. Annie wasn’t herself and that Y/N could tell but she hadn’t been around much anymore.

“For all we know the shifter could be here.” Y/N looked around at everyone for a sign of a flaw but truth be told a shifter could act just like the person. “Does he know you’re down here?” MM asked her. “Hopefully not.” She said. “He doesn’t have tracking on you?” She shrugged, “He trusts me enough. Not enough to share information though.” She said. “Annie is the shifter.” Hughie said.

Y/N and MM looked at him. “Look forward. Like we aren’t talking.” He said and they did. “How do you know?” Y/N asked him. Annie came up to them and showed off the ring that Hughie gave her. Y/N’s jaw dropped but for a different reason than that. He proposed to the fake Annie? MM was trying so hard not to crack but Y/N couldn’t hide her shock. One second she is staring at the ring and the next she is unconscious on the ground.

When she woke she looked around and noticed that she was in Homelander’s bed. She sat up way too quick, ��Too fast. You need to relax.” He said and sat on the bed. She looked at him in horror and confusion. Did he know where the president was hiding? How did he get her? “You weren’t answering your phone so I went to your house.” He brought her from there? “Why’d you remove me from my bed?” She asked. “I want you to move in with me.” He states, ignoring her question.

The shockness she felt got more intense after that. “Oh.” She said and looked away from him. “What do you mean “oh”?” He was kind of offended. She sighed, “I overheard you tell Victoria that you sent me away from that conversation because I’m working with Billy.” She says. “Oh.” He said. “I try to keep our relationship separate from work.” She says. “Yeah but you can’t.” He said. “What does that mean?” She asked. “You can’t because Butcher and I are mortal enemies and you’ll have to pick a side.” He said and he wasn’t wrong. But Y/N didn’t know what side. “Look I know this isn’t easy for you but unless you plan on giving me information on what they are planning, then you have no need to be with them.” He said.

But she doesn’t support him in his actions. She couldn’t say that out loud. “What are you going to do if I choose them?” She asked. “I will have to kill them all and maybe you.” He did not just say to her. She stood up, “John, are you fucking serious right now?” “You brought it up.” He was acting like it was no big deal. “I’m well aware that I will have to choose a side but it’s not now.” She said. “Billy wants me dead. I want Billy dead. There is no soon.” Billy wasn’t even talking to her right now. “Billy hates me now so I have no idea what he is doing.” She said.

“There ya go then. You don’t even have to choose.” She wanted to roll her eyes. “The others? Those are my friends.” “They wanna take me down also so that’s still his side.” “We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you didn’t say that to Victoria.” “How do I know you won’t go back and say all the things you know to them?” He asked. “I’m not. Like I said before, I am keeping us separate from them.” “You can’t!” He stood up. Y/N rolled her eyes, “I have been!” He laughed. “You don’t think that you are uneasy around you and keep things from you because of that?” He asked.

“They think I’m using you.” She yelled. His eyes widened at that. “They wanna kill me Y/N. They are going to try every little thing they can too.” She knew that he was right but she didn’t wanna choose a side. She doesn’t want it to come down to that. “They have a right to John.” She whispered. “What did you say?” He growled. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, “They do have a right to kill you John. Not that I want that to happen but you have done terrible things John. And if you don’t see that then you need to open your eyes.” He looked down at her words.

She got up from her spot and went over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, “But I love you John. And if I can prevent them from killing you I will.” She whispered. He looked at her. His expression was unreadable, making her heart beat. “If you love me. You’ll leave them and be with me.” He tells her. “Okay.” She whispered. “Okay.” She leaned up and kissed him. She wasn’t sure what she was doing but she hoped everything worked out in the end. John wasn’t around, thankfully. So when her phone started ringing she was quick to answer it.

“Hughie” the phone said, so she answered. “Hey, can you meet up with us?” She knew that she should have said No but she didn’t want to. “Yeah.” She said and got ready. John was at the Vought tower and wasn’t due back for a while so she wasn’t rushing for that reason. She was rushing because she wasn’t sure what Hughie was calling her about. She looked in the mirror and sighed. John can’t know about this.

Seeing Victoria and her daughter was the last thing she expected as she walked in the room. Everyone gave her a look of hesitation on the situation besides Hughie. “What’s going on?” She asked Frenchie. “Victoria wants to get away from Homelander and she’s afraid her daughter’s life is at stake.” He said and Y/N nodded. Well she shouldn’t know that. Nor should she be here. Y/N sighed but her heart started pounding at the sound of “oi” from none other than Billy Butcher.

The guy who hates her guts. She hadn’t even thought about him not being there. She looked over at him and he looked good. He was no longer sick it seemed. He looked around and noticed her. The smirk almost dropped from his face. She stared at him, wondering what his next move was going to be. It was like the room went silent and the ringing in her ears started as Billy had tentacles and got a hold of Victoria. Everyone but her tried to stop him but it was no use. Even her daughter who Billy threw back.

Y/N watched in horror as he broke Victoria like a kitkat. Hughie and her had the same expression and she looked at Billy as he took the virus. “I should kill you too.” He said to her as he went to leave. “Oh by the way, you’re fucking welcome!” He said before leaving. Y/N looked at the rest of them in horror. His words didn’t affect her as much as she thought they would. He was a monster just like Homelander. Maybe he’s secretly been like that all along.

John was in his room at Vought Tower where Y/N finally found him. He looked happy. “I uh went back with the boys to get my things.” She said which wasn’t a lie. He turned to her, “So you’ve made your decision?” He asked and she nodded. “Yes.” She placed the box of her things down and went to sit right next to him. “Victoria is dead.” He told her and even though she was there the look of shock on her face saved her from telling him what she knew. “The President did it.” He said and she looked confused. “He confessed to it but you know I think? I think there’s more than just that.” He said and he wasn’t wrong. “More than what?” She asked. He chuckled, “She was killed by someone that wasn’t him.” He said and she was hoping that he wouldn’t start name dropping.

“You exposed her to the world. Did you not think of what would happen?” She asked. “It was all part of the plan.” He said. Before she could question it he pulled out a small velvet box. She covered her mouth as he turned towards her. “You were never part of my plan but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” He said as he lifted open the box to show a diamond ring. “Will you marry me?” He asked and she nodded without thinking.

He laughed a happy one for once and she hugged him. The tears that were streaming down her face weren’t just from this but from everything. She pulled away from the hug and kissed him before putting on the ring. “It’s beautiful.” She said and stared at it. “Beautiful things for a beautiful girl.” He said and she looked up at him. “I love you a lot John. Thank you!” She said and he nodded. “I love you more.” He said and picked her up. “Now I can fuck my fiance.” He said and she giggled. He carried her to the bedroom and dropped her on it.

Y/N woke up and saw that John was asleep next to her. She looked at his naked body and smiled at the memories of the previous night. She grabbed her phone to check the time but saw a message from Billy. Was he threatening her? She opened her phone to see the message and covered her mouth.

Is it a bad time to tell the woman that’s fucking my enemy that I’m in love with her?

#the boys #the boys imagine #the boys amazon #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander smut #homelander imagine #homelander x you #antony starr #billy butcher #the boys season 4

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superblysubpar · 1 month ago

Text

dad!steve harrington x mom!you

a How Sweet It Is story

summary: steve's baby girl isn't really a baby anymore

3,911 words

warnings: please see the How Sweet It Is masterlist for general warnings about this AU | minor spicy smutty mentions | minor alcohol mention | shitty first boyfriends, with minor discussion of feeling pressured in a relationship | overall an angsty yet fluffy story

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the story!

Autumn, 2004

There’s something burnt inside of the microwave, some vegetables they refuse to eat past their prime in the bottom drawer of the fridge. There’s a lovely drawing on your living room wall, the only evidence left behind a purple and orange crayon which leads you to believe it was Annie, Luke having dared her to it no doubt though.

The dishes aren’t done, the laundry isn’t folded, the bills need to be paid, but for once, you really don’t care.

Because Annie and Luke are with The Munson’s at the movie theater then staying over, Julie is sleeping over at a friend’s house. Olivia is with Zoe and her aunts, Grace is at her first ever boy girl Halloween party then also sleeping over somewhere and Steve isn’t even having a melt down. And your eldest, Nora, for once, isn’t with her boyfriend, but having a much needed girl’s night with her best friend, so Steve’s in a fantastic mood.

You’re not going to take the night or the mood for granted.

He’s refilling your wine and pulling you onto his lap once the movie starts, the movie you got to pick and one that has sex, and weapons, and swearing and you get to watch from any spot on the couch you want. You get to take up space and eat junk food you tell them they can’t.

Except, it turns out, you and Steve don’t really care about the movie or any of that stuff.

Steve’s got his hands running down your back, like each little dip in your spine is meant just for his fingers. His warm breath flows over your throat as you throw your head back, his kiss finds a spot on your neck and he can’t wait to mark you up like he used to. Can’t wait to make out with you for hours with no interruptions except his stupid lungs needing air. He’s gonna make you come on his fingers, and his tongue and-

Ring! Ring! Rinnnngggg-

“Don’t,” you gasp, eyelids fluttering and blurring your view of the ceiling when Steve grinds his hips up into yours, “Don’t you dare answer that.”

His lips graze your collarbone. “Answer what?”

Your laugh makes him smile against your jaw before he’s catching your head with both hands and pulling your lips down to meet his.

Hey, you’ve reached The Harrington’s! We’re sorry we missed your call, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. Have a great day!

Steve hums into your mouth, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he whispers, “Your phone voice is so cute.”

Your lips skim over his, back and forth as you shake your head. Narrowed eyes meet his sparkling ones. There’s little lines next to his eyes that almost obscure the freckles, proof of the years and laughter, direct results of letting you steal his sunglasses forever.

Beeep!

Uh, hey guys…

Both of your chests inflate, shared held breaths at the sound of Eddie Munson’s worried tone.

Steve looks over at the machine, your forehead knocks against his temple and his arms wrap around your waist as you both exhale and wait for Eddie to tell you the bad news.

A kid threw up, cried, something, and that meant they were coming back home.

It’s worse. It’s so much worse.

So, um, listen, I know, I know okay, it’s your first free night, but I just wanted to call and let you know…well jesus liv, how do you want me to tell them? If it were my kid I’d-

Steve looks at you and you both get up at the same time, worried expressions and racing towards the phone.

Christ, okay, we have Nora, and we’re bringing her home…I’ll let her tell you what happened. But uh-

Steve’s hand reaches the receiver first and his jaw is sharp as he bites out, “What?”

You’re unable to hear Eddie, but it cannot be good from the look on Steve’s face. Cannot be good from the way he grits out a ‘thanks’ and slams the phone down, almost knocking the whole thing right off the little table.

His hands are in his hair and he’s pacing, so it’s definitely not good.

Steve’s glasses slide down the slope of his nose while brown and slightly wavy hair speckled with gray gets trapped in his fingers as he yanks and ruffles it and blows out his breath.

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill her. I’m gonna-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” you pull at his wrists when he makes a third spin back towards you and get him to stop. “What’s going on? What did Eddie say?”

Steve’s arms go limp in your hold, hanging next to his plaid pajama pants as he stares at you. Eyes a little more green when they get all teary like they are now.

“Fuck, she’s…”

“What? She’s what?” You panic when he trails off, when he starts crying. You grab the front of his shirt, “Steve, tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“She’s fine, she’s,” he sniffles and presses his fingers under his glasses which he then yanks off and flings onto the kitchen counter. “God, I’m so fucking mad at her. She’s fine. She’s drunk, or was drunk, I don’t know. She was at a party or something. Eddie said they drove past her crying next to a pay phone.”

Your shoulders relax, knowing your daughter is at least safe, and your best friends found her. You’ll worry about the state she’s arriving in when she gets here.

Steve leans on the kitchen counter, his head hung between his shoulders and your palm soothes up and down his back, wary of your tone when you start to speak again.

“Okay, let’s not jump to conclusions, alright? She didn’t…she didn’t lie, necessarily. Maybe she just went out with Lindsay for a bit…they’re always being invited to parties. It’s this time of year. And…and we can’t be mad at her for drinking Steve. How many times did we-“

Steve shakes his head and turns to you, hand thrown out towards the front door as his voice rises. “You don’t think that’s the exact problem here, Kate?! I was fucking seventeen not that long ago and I know what the hell she’s doing with Charlie, I mean, christ, babe, we didn’t have her that much older than she is now!“

“Hey, don’t yell at me! I’m not the enemy here!” You shout right back.

You’re glaring at each other, his hands on his hips and yours crossed over your chest and there isn’t a sign of either of you backing down any time soon. But something in his eyes shifts, his chin wobbles a little and you raise your shoulders and clear your throat.

Steve breaks first, falling back against the countertop again as he cups his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“I know,” you whisper, your socked foot nudges his, “It’s gonna be fine, okay? Cause we do this together, right?”

He doesn’t look up at you, but his arm reaches towards you and he’s pulling you into his chest, nestled between his spread legs. He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you, tightly.

Neither of you moves until headlights slice through the sheer curtains of your little bay window in the breakfast nook next to you.

Steve sighs, deep and full of too much stress and he doesn’t let you go till he hears the sound of two car doors.

There’s a light knock on the door, then the creak of it opening, Eddie’s voice calls out, “Guys?”

You’re the first to go assess, and your shoulders tighten when you see your daughter, cowering behind Eddie.

Smudged make up and a top you’ve never seen, a skirt too short for your liking cause it reminds you an awful lot of one you wore that the boys really liked. You can smell the vodka from here and your eyes sting from the tears forcing their way to your lashes when Steve’s breath sucks in behind you with a pained breath of her name.

“Thanks, Eddie,” you clear your throat and nod to him with as much of a smile as you can muster, “Are Annie and Luke…”

Eddie waves a hand and hooks his thumb over his shoulder, “They’re at home hopped up on something Liv told them all was zombie blood but is actually just mountain dew and vanilla ice cream and in front of Hocus Pocus on Disney as we speak.”

Your arms curl around yourself and you smile a little more at that, but it falls as soon as your daughter makes eye contact with you. It’s like every ounce of calm has vanished from you, because now you know she’s here and safe, you can be mad.

Really mad.

Eddie nods once, and pats Nora’s shoulder, gently nudging her forward.

“Thanks Uncle Eddie,” she murmurs.

He kisses her temple and starts to close the door, “Anytime kid. I mean, not anytime. Don’t…anyways…”

He raises his eyebrows at the two of you and the door clicks closed.

Nora covers her chest with her arms and her chin wobbles an awful lot like Steve’s and her mouth parts but you stop her.

“Go to your room, Nora, I don’t…I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

Tears slip past Nora’s lashes at the same time as yours and she shakes her head. “You’re not gonna even let me explain? It’s not what it-“

Your hands fly to your temples, rubbing them as you close your eyes and laugh, “What? It’s not what it looks like?” Eyes open to find hers looking shattered as you keep going, “Cause it looks like my daughter lied to us about what she was doing tonight. If I call Lindsay’s mom, will she even know you were supposed to be there or,” you laugh again, colder, and not at all finding the situation funny, and hold up your hand, “Let me guess, her mom thinks you’re both here and we thought you were there, right? But really you were with Charlie at a party.”

“Mom,” Nora sobs, her hands fall at her sides, “I’m sorry, but-“

“Oh, I’m not done,” your hands land on your hips, adopting your husband’s signature pose along with his hot head, “Cause you know what else it looks like? It looks like you’re wearing clothes I’ve never seen before and I sure as hell didn’t buy for you. And that’s just looks, cause I can smell the vodka from here and-“

“You’re not being fair!” Nora shouts at you, black mascara runs down her cheeks that she swipes at half-heartedly, “I didn’t-“

“I don’t want to hear it young lady!” Your foot practically stomps just like her’s used to, her own tantrums held in this very entryway flashing before your eyes. “What’s not fair is lying like this. You don’t do this Nora. We don’t do this! When have we ever told you couldn’t go to a party? That we wouldn’t pick you up, no questions asked? That you couldn’t see Charlie? That-“

“Right!” Nora screams, her hands thrown up in the air and at you, “Your perfect daughter didn’t do something right, for once in her life! I fucked up, okay? I’m sorry!”

She sobs and you shake your head and start to walk away, “I can’t do this.”

“Mom,” her voice breaks and she sniffles as you head into the kitchen, “Daddy-“

“Nora…just…clean up and go to bed. Please. We’ll talk in the morning.” Steve’s voice is unnaturally calm and you hate him for it.

Your shoulders hunch with the sound of each step of your daughter’s feet on the stairs, your head lands heavy in your hands as your elbows press to the counter-top.

There’s a clink, a pop of a cork, liquid sloshing, and then the distinct grate of glass across the counter top, red wine sits under your face as Steve sighs.

“Well, that went super well I think. A plus parenting, mom.”

Your hands drop from holding your head so you can glare at him.

“Yeah? Thanks for the back up, dad.”

Steve shrugs, he leans against the stove and squints at you, his lips have the nerve to twitch a little like he’s fighting a smile.

“Oh, sorry, was I supposed to talk too? You didn’t really take a breath to let anyone else chime in, hon.”

Your body lifts as does the wine glass to your lips as you throw a hand towards the staircase. After a large swallow of the wine, you accuse, “What is your deal right now? Five minutes ago you were-“

Steve takes a step towards you and grabs the wine glass from you, then he holds your cheeks in both of his hands.

“I’m trying to do that thing you’re always telling me to do, that you normally do so well. Take a deep breath. Relax. Listen. It’s not always what it seems.”

He raises his eyebrows at you and your head falls forward again, though this time in defeat, in embarrassment.

Your forehead is caught by his lips, a kiss pressed there then the top of your head before he tilts you up to look at him again.

“I…” you sigh and look at the stairs, “I should go talk to her again. I should apologize.”

Steve shrugs and kisses you, soft and over too quickly.

“I think she needs some time to cool off too. You can talk in the morning, after you both relax.”

Your eyes narrow at him and his sparkle when you tease, “How many ways have you come up with to kill Charlie?”

“Twenty-seven.”

A laugh leaves you but it’s quick to cut into something that resembles a sob and a sigh, because it’s too real. He pulls you into a hug.

Both of you make no hint of moving anytime soon until Steve whispers, “Wanna start the movie over? We can actually watch it this time.”

Which is a nice thought, but in reality, you just curl up next to each other on the couch and neither one of you really sees the action past the glow of the screen.

You’re both acutely aware of the shower upstairs, the soft music of a stereo, the click of a lamp. Severely aware of the laundry piles addition of clothing reeking of alcohol. Counting down the hours till your daughter wakes up and you’ll try it all over again.

So it’s not a surprise when you fall asleep on the couch, bodies and brains too tired to make it through another hour of the film.

Steve stirs first, the click of the TV and the blue fuzzy screen turning dark startling him in his fitful sleep.

Your head is on the opposite end, legs tangled together with his and hogging the blanket. He tilts his head just make out a figure in the dark, one now quietly sneaking out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Steve holds his breath and stares at the ceiling, listening.

He hears the soft thunk of a drawer closing, the hum of the fridge, the swoosh of a burner and then nothing.

So when he rolls off of the couch as slowly and quietly as he can, and makes his own way to the kitchen, he freezes when he sees his baby girl leaning against the counter, stirring a pot on the stove, not really thinking through his actions and what he’d say when he got here.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispers, avoiding his gaze.

“You didn’t,” he lies. Steve sits at the counter on one of the stools, and lets his chin rest on his fist.

It’s quiet then. Quiet for a long time. Long enough for Nora to pull down two mugs and pour hot cocoa into them. Long enough for her to pass him one, then for both of them to take sips.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, what to do, until Nora opens the fridge and pulls out an apple. Until she pulls a knife from the wood block and starts slicing, the peel remaining intact as she spins the fruit and it furls down to the countertop.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks softly.

Nora looks up, surprised, at him, eyes that are so much his blinking right back at him behind wire rimmed glasses. Glasses he remembers telling her she could use to see for late night snacks when she didn’t want to wear them.

“Oh, um, no one,” Nora says quietly, then hesitates, “Well actually, I guess, in a way, mom?”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, lips twitching on one side.

Nora nods, smiling as she gets to the last spin of the fruit, and she hums. Steve watches her eyes get a little glassy, watches her chin wobble just likes yours before she admits, “Yeah. That movie? Sleepless in Seattle?”

Steve smiles at that and nods, exhaling a deep breath as Nora finishes the curl. He knows it well, it’s your favorite movie, and the reason one of his daughters has the name she does. Her fingers toy with the peel, voice tight as she keeps explaining since his silence is letting her.

“Mom was watching it a couple of month’s ago and she…there’s this scene. Where Annie is trying to peel an apple in one long curl and she’s listening to Sam talk about his wife, and love and mom can quote the whole thing. And…and…”

Nora swipes at her eyes as she looks at him, so hurt, so broken as she shrugs her shoulders and she whispers, “It wasn’t magic, dad.”

Steve swallows and he stands up, grabs his little girl as she falls into his arms. So small and only getting smaller and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Nora squeezes him as she sniffles into his chest. His daughter who’s somehow old enough to be crying about love and a guy who broke her heart while she drinks hot cocoa with bunnies on her feet and moons and stars on her pajamas.

“I thought he really cared about me, and when I said no, when I told him I didn’t…that it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to…he…he…”

Nora hiccups around her tears and Steve’s heart stops beating, his lungs stop working.

“He called me a tease,” she sobs into his chest, “He called me such terrible things. I thought…I thought he really loved me, dad.”

He’d kill this kid Charlie if it was the last thing he did.

Steve doesn’t say anything for a long time, just holds Nora until the front of his shirt isn’t getting freshly wet. So he whispers, “It’ll be magic, someday baby, and you’ll know, okay? It’ll just feel right. And screw that guy. I never liked him anyways.”

Nora laughs into his chest that swells at the sound and he curls her hair behind her ear when she smiles.

“But not until you’re, like, thirty.”

“Dad,” Nora sniffles, she shakes her head and hugs him again. Her voice grows tight again, “I’m sorry I lied about where I was. And I only had one drink. I smelled like that cause these guys spilled a bunch of punch everywhere and-“

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, kissing the top of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She hugs him tightly, then whispers, “Love you dad.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

Another squeeze, and then she’s disappearing with her cocoa and apple up the stairs, and his tears finally fall.

And in the morning, when he’s done prepping for a quiet breakfast before all the other kids get home, he climbs the stairs two at a time on the way to wake you.

But Steve finds the bed you’d both finally made it to at around one in the morning empty, and as he walks down the hall, he slows, hearing your voice come from Nora’s room.

“You know we don’t expect you to be perfect, right? If your dad or I made you feel like you can’t mess up or…can’t be a kid, I’m so sorry baby. We rely on you so much with the younger kids and that’s not fair to you at all, is it?”

He watches from a distance, the two of you curled up on Nora’s bed. You sit up right against the headboard, your fingers run through her hair as she hugs you, curled around your waist and chest like she used to when she was little.

Steve doesn’t hear what Nora says but you laugh and run your hand up and down her spine.

He rests his head on the wall and watches you with so much love in his chest, he feels like he might burst. And that’s before Nora asks, “How’d you know?”

And you ask, “Know what, sweetie?”

“That dad was the one? That he was…that it was right?”

Steve smiles as you tilt your head up and blow out your breath.

“Gosh,” you laugh, “That movie kind of gets it, honey. It was a lot of little things. It’s still a lot of things. I fall in love with him for a new reason every single day. The way he always opens the car door for me, or let’s me have the last of the fries. How much he loves and cares about you guys. When he picks up pizza on the way home with flowers. When he yells at the TV when his team doesn’t make the right play. The way he looks at me when I’m telling a story or the way he says my name.”

“Like it’s got all the best letters in it?” Nora asks and you smile.

“Exactly. Even when he’s mad at me, it still sounds like…”

“Magic,” Nora whispers.

“Yeah,” you nod.

Steve raps his knuckles on the door when it’s quiet for awhile, and peeks his head in.

“There’s my girls, anyone want apple cinnamon pancakes?”

Nora shouts a yes and you laugh as she jumps out of her bed and races down the stairs like she used to what feels like a really long time ago.

When you leave her room and touch his arm as you pass, he pulls at your hips, spinning you until you gasp. He catches the sound with his mouth, lips strong and sure in their kiss and saying so much with so little.

“What…what was that for?” Your eyelashes flutter when he pulls away and your stomach fills with a million bouncy balls.

“No reason,” he kisses you again and leaves you standing there breathless, shouting down the stairs to Nora, “You better not be eating that raw batter young lady!”

And later, when the sink’s full of suds and soaking dishes and kids are opening the fridge only to look inside and complain and then open it again two minutes later, or the washing machine is making that weird clunking noise again and Steve’s shouting at one of the kids to get off of the other kid and you’re scrubbing at crayon on the wall, neither of you care.

You aren’t going to take it for granted.

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/6

since there were two of these and I'm late posting, I posted the poll separately, you can find it here

#superbly subpar's writing #trick or treat freaks 💛#how sweet it is AU #steve harrington #dad!steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb

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belokhvostikova · 1 year ago

Text

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Perhaps the karma gods of the world were just as perverted as Hawkins’ residential Freak, Eddie Munson, himself, as the perfect opportunity to lay his hands on you arose when you go searching for helpless students to tutor.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, brief mentions of religion, naivety, feelings of embarrassment, perversion, and explicit sexual content: fondling, minimal spanking, mentions of virginity, mentions of female masturbation, male masturbation, tiny praise kink, stuffed animal humping, clit rubbing, handjob, oral (both receiving), corruption kink, cum eating and dubcon (just precautionary).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I tried to be gross! Sorry it took so long. It's quite hard writing about a plotline that doesn't pertain to Eddie being mad at us for taking his picture and putting it in the yearbook (my series, you should read it). I'm trying to get into the groove of writing, so I apologize in advance if this is literal butt cheeks, I tried. Also, you will be getting an unwarranted history lesson.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“…Man, I told Jeff that my mom would get pissed off if he left his beer cans in the garage, and he was all like, “Nah, dude, I promise I’ll pick ‘em up,” and he didn’t! Of course, he didn’t…”

In retrospect, tuning out the complaints of Gareth Emerson may not have been the smartest moves, as Corroded Coffin had just lost their only space to freely practice. You know, where they wouldn’t get dirty looks and threats of the police for public disturbance. And surely, as lead guitarist and singer of such an aspiring band, Eddie Munson would have been fully engrossed at the sudden mention of the deterrence into their path to wealth, fame, and glory… right? No. Because this is Eddie Munson we’re talking about here. And behind that domineering rockstar facade of leather jackets, clinking chains, gaudy jewelry, and a tight- tight pair of denim pants, yes, behind those pair of pants was a pulsating cock that was desperate to grow twice its softened size just two minutes and twenty-three seconds before he had to face Mrs. Wither’s biology class, all because Eddie Munson saw you.

Why- why on God’s green Earth would he ever choose to listen to the cracking voice of Gareth Emerson, when you were literally standing right across the hall, not even four yards away? The skirt. The fucking teeny tiny, baby pink, short skirt you decided to wear, the one Eddie was sure that if you bent forward even just a little bit, he would be flashed with the sexy crease of your fat ass cheeks meeting your doughy thighs, and he was desperate to be smothered by it.

“…So yeah, we can’t practice at my house anymore.” Gareth lamented. That’s when he noticed the oh so obvious, blatantly clear, totally discernable trance of his friend, realizing his entire tangent just deliquesced into thin air with no acknowledgement whatsoever. Gareth slammed his locker shut. “You weren’t even listening to me!”

Eddie’s eyes finally shot away at the bleated tone of Gareth’s rightful attitude. “‘Scuse me? I totally was listening.” He hissed back, evidently not amused with the embarrassing fact that he was caught red-handed.

“No, you weren’t.” Gareth groused, looking back to follow the ghost trail that once was Eddie’s distracted eye line, which is when he landed on you. “You were just checking out that girl.”

“That girl has a name, y’know?” Eddie retorted.

“That girl isn’t going to help us find a place to practice!” Gareth retaliated. “Stop looking for chicks to score, I’m serious.”

“Hey,” Eddie perked, as he stood straight, countering his friend, “y’know, she’s actually really smart and, like, super fucking funny-”

His friend could only incredulously scoff. “Oh, right, because you’ve totally had a conversation with her.”

“I-I’ve… stood next to her a-and have heard her talk to her friends.” Definitely not the riposte Eddie hoped to shoot out. The stuttering sure as hell didn’t help.

“Oh, so you’re a stalker.” Gareth nonchalantly derided, leaving Eddie to deadpan him. “Look, whatever, man, you can perv on girls all you want, but we have bigger issues at hand, dude. Where the hell are we supposed to practice?” Eddie’s chest ended up being victimized by the harsh poke of Gareth’s stern finger. And if he wasn’t so annoyed with his friend, he would have winced, because that actually kinda hurt a little. But just a little. Eddie’s ego wasn’t about to take a hit today.

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Relax, alright? We’ll work our way around it.”

Truthfully, Eddie had no actual plans of working their way around it, in fact, it was quite a large issue he should have prioritized, but that could wait. Should it? No. But it would. Yes. Surely, staring at you was more of a fun game. He’d done that for the past two years he’d known of you, and he never got tired of it, I mean, how could he? One day—he always chalked up—he would get the balls to actually speak to you. You were always so nice, so sweet, skirting around the halls of Hawkins High that Eddie felt were too unworthy for your leisure, smiling and waving at any and everyone. Last Tuesday, the day you met his perverted eyes—oblivious to his hungry stares—and kindly threw him a beguiling smile as if it wasn’t the most dangerous weapon on Earth, was the day Eddie Munson skipped fourth period and jerked his aching cock in the dingy stall of the boys’ bathroom, before speeding home to fold his pillow in half and slide himself into the makeshift pussy just to fuck it with screwed shut eyes to invision the perfect image of you laying on your back with bouncing tits.

But unfortunately, that was just a dream Eddie Munson would have to deduce himself into every night, because the reality of you ever actually speaking to him was tragically low. Mostly because Eddie was scared he’d stutter and fuck up in front of you. It was embarrassingly shameful when it occurred in the comfort of his own bedroom, as he acted out what he would say to you in the mirror. You literally weren’t even there and he still tripped over his words!

But maybe the karma gods were finally aligning with his life, because he watched you happily place a “Need a Tutor?” sign on the bulletin board of the main hall, with little slips of your phone number ready to tear off and grab for anyone needing some “intimate one-on-one session time.” And, my god, was Eddie Munson anguished for that, so when the pink thumbtack stabbed your preciously designed poster into the cluttered corkboard, and you walked away with a innocent smile that was ready to help anyone in need, Eddie could hear an angel receiving its wings in the distance, as a harp played, and a choir harmonized heavenly, because his mind was stirring with the endless possibilities of raunchy and crude wet dreams. And Eddie was finally receiving a chance to dive into some pussy galore. Gross.

“Oh, yeah, and how exactly do you plan on doing that? My drum kit can’t fit in your trailer, Grant’s grandma nearly had a heart attack the last time we practiced at his place, and Jeff’s mom still thinks it’s the “devil's music,” so what exactly is your plan here, hotshot?” Gareth scoffed.

“My plan?” Eddie chimed with a menacing smirk. “Oh, well I plan on getting tutored by my future wife.” He slyly leered, as he sauntered his away to your advertisement, Gareth following behind feeling beyond the definitions of vexation.

“You’re actually insane, y’know that?” Gareth exhaled, as he watched Eddie eagerly tear off a slip and examine it with a prodding tongue through his lips. “This says for anyone needing a tutor in history.” Gareth pointed out.

Eddie shrugged, as your number slipped into the back pocket of his jeans. “So?”

“You’re not even taking history!” Gareth stressed, as the bell rang to commence class. “What are you gonna do when you show up completely clueless?”

“Dude, she’s looking for idiots to tutor,” Eddie patted him on the shoulder, “she’s expecting cluelessness. And I am the perfect guy. Kay?” He triumphantly smiled. “Stop stressing, go to class. And don’t worry, I’ll send you an invitation to our wedding. Thinkin’ of making it BDSM theme.”

Gareth grimaced.

Eddie Munson may not have caught onto the obvious insult he just hurled to himself, but that didn’t matter. Not when he had a call to make after school.

The ticking minutes of the afternoon couldn’t have passed by any slower, as Eddie managed to work up every excuse in the book to get his uncle, Wayne, to leave early for work: grab some lunch at Benny’s before hand, stop for some coffee at the local cafe, show up an hour early to impress the bosses—though, the bosses didn’t pay Wayne enough for him to feel the need to turn up before his scheduled shift—and soon the minutes turned into hours, and the sun would be setting soon. Eddie could feel you slipping through his grasp, as someone who probably actually needed a tutor was bound to call you before he could- or worse, some sick perv with the same bright idea as him would call you. Though Eddie Munson was adamant on the fact that none of the other guys who creeped on you could take care of you like he could.

Sure, the only experience he ever had was when the older bartender with bouncy hair offered to show the lead singer of Corroded Coffin a “special thank you,” which promptly led him to losing his virginity in the loathsome bathroom of the Hideout, which also led to a frantic eighteen-year-old Eddie anxiously running to the local health clinic for STDs testing when it dawned on him that he just had unprotected sex with a stranger during the dangerous minutes of post-nut clarity. But, Eddie Munson was still a hormonal teenager, and once the negative results cleared him from the nerve-wracking chlamydia or gonorrhea scare, he laid back and relished on the memory of having sex and, well, by the sounds of it—if his memory serves him right—she seemed to enjoy it, too. Granted, Eddie never engaged in any more of her efforts to try again because- well, he was left scarred, but all that is beyond the point. The point is Eddie Munson wanted to be the one to love on you, dote on you, make you feel so fucking good that you were programmatically addicted to him- to his cock.

Oh, fuck, he’s hard already.

But finally, as the clock struck six o’clock, his uncle waved him goodbye, and Eddie had ran through the numerous piles of clothes in the trailer—ones he promised to fold—and slammed into the wall phone to begin his endeavors. The crumpled slip of your phone number had been retrieved from his back pocket, and he skimmed the digits, letting his fingers dial as he read each number. It was nowhere near remotely possible, but Eddie Munson had even managed to find your phone number to be so sexy. Mm, so even and divisible. God, he was sick. But nonetheless, the phone rang and rang, and he was muttering the “c’mon, pick up, pick up” mantra to lead him one step closer to you. Communicating through a phone would surely ease his worries about potentially screwing up. He just had to take a deep breath and let the conversation flow itself. But, shit, it was ringing for far too long. You were probably already knees deep into some boring textbook with a helpless classmate, or getting flirted by Nathan Cavanugh, who Eddie once saw check you out; or you were probably cuddling up with Bryce Walters, who would always lean against your locker to sweet talk you during school; or, fuck, you could have already been getting handsy with Harrison Moran, who would always come up and hug you after a footba-

“Hello?” Oh, shit.

“Oh- I mean, uh, hi.” This wasn’t going to work. He was already slipping up. Eddie had never internally cringed so hard, his hand pragmatically slapped his forehead in disbelief, but his mouth just kept moving. “It’s, um, me.” Me?! How the fuck would you know who me is?!

“Oh, my god, hi, Eddie!” You perked with giddiness. What the fuck?

He stammered with confusion, “Wait… how’d you know it was me- like, me, Eddie?”

“Duh, your voice, silly.” You giggled, as Eddie huffed a breathy chuckle, and leaned against the wall with a curling lip. Maybe this could work.

“Oh, yeah? You recognize my voice, sweetie?” His lit into a teasing, sultry crisp that had you flustered on the other line.

“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re always making quite the scene during lunch.” You delicately laughed into the receiver. “I guess it just kinda got stuck in my head, like, you know, when you hear a catchy song?”

Eddie sucked in a breath, as his hand played with the hem of his shirt to tease his sensitive naval with soft touches, and you could thoroughly hear the smirk of his grin oozing through his words. “Oh, really?” He teased rhetorically. “Yeah, no, I understand. I can happily say the same for you, sweetheart. Got such a pretty voice.”

“Oh,” you were clearly rattled, as his compliment hit you, “th-thank you, Eddie. You’re so nice.”

“Aw, well, actually, sweetheart, it’s you who’s so nice. Offering others your help with tutoring, just so sweet, aren’t ya, huh? It’s actually why I’m calling.” He smiled. “You wanna… help me out, princess?”

“Yes, I’d love to!” Your bubbly voice made it certain that you were ready to genuinely help him with his studies, and provide him with the needed lessons. It could almost make Eddie feel guilty. Almost. But his dick was thumping with eagerness, and he was containing all restraints to keep from pressing his bulge against the paneling of the wall to your sickly sweet voice, and thrusting his hips. That would be a new low. Even for him. “I’ve been waiting forever for someone to call, Eds, you don’t even understand. I was beginning to think nobody needed a tutor.”

“Oh, no, sweet girl, I can assure you I desperately need a helping hand.” He sighed, as the rings on his finger began dancing around the protrusion of his pants, applying just a small amount of pressure. “And I’d fucking love yours.” Your innocent mind absolutely swooned at the opportunity to aid his learning, completely unbeknownst to Eddie’s perverted meaning.

“That’s great, I’d love to help you, Eddie.” You gushed, and Eddie’s teeth had to bite down onto his lip to uphold the self-control of being so desperate he was debating dry humping the wall. “Are you able to come over tonight?

“Oh, yeah, baby, I’ll definitely be coming tonight.” As soon as the call would end, Eddie Munson would drop to his knees and repent all the wrongdoings of his life, if it meant this actually working out for him. It’s doesn’t necessarily fall under the codes of Catholicism to exactly pray in front of the random “Bless this house, O Lord we pray, Make it safe by night and day” calendar with the hopes of finally having sex with his high school crush, but Eddie wasn’t exactly the type to carry around his own crucifix for an impromptu prayer, and he was truly just really fucking horny for you. And he was also smart enough to know his luck. If his life taught him anything, you would actually say that plans came up and you would be too busy to tutor him, and just like that, his opportunity would have disintegrated into dust. Now, while the possibility of that occurring was plausible, it genuinely should not have garnered him the idea to suddenly believe in divine interference and pray to a calendar that he’d get laid, but Eddie Munson did it anyway. Because you had him that fucking forlorn.

“How does seven-thirty sound? You can come over then, does that work for you?” You were already planning the layout for your study session, when all Eddie could think about was caressing your figure.

“Absolutely.” He affirmed with a tight breath when his teeth bloodied his lip.

“Great, I’ll see you then, Eddie- oh, wait, before you go, do you like cookies? I can make us some as a snack.” God, you really were so fucking sweet.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbled under his breath, “cookies? Yeah, I like cookies, sweetheart. Can’t fucking wait to taste them.”

“Okay, good, I’ll gladly make you some!” You cheered with excitement. “I’ll see you soon!”

Attending high school for six years would surely be more than enough time to, I don’t know, memorize at least one thing about the many lessons Eddie had to endure—science, math, hell, even construction—but nothing cemented into his mind more clearly than the address you’d given him- the address he’d fuck you at… hopefully. God, he could already picture it so vividly. Your pink room of frills and silk. The room where you study. Where you sleep. Where you change. Where you lick your fingers and snake your hand under the lace of your panties to rub your pussy to the thought of being fucked-

Oh, how the hell was he ever going to survive being in your house?

Eddie Munson had stared about the likes of your neighborhood for a good five minutes, finding the audacity to suddenly play undercover detective as a means of “scoping out the scene” to ensure the sanctity of his sexual endeavors. Perhaps the karma gods were desperate to get this twenty-year-old man laid—they had to be tired of the countless prayers for pussy that flooded their heavenly inbox—as Mrs. Winthrop, the forty-something-year-old lady of fancy tracksuits and shiny pearls who loved to patrol the regulations of the HOA, was, fortunately, accompanying her newlywed seventy-something-year-old husband at the City Hall’s Annual Fundraiser Banquet. Had she decided to not meddle into the world of small town aristocrats to weasel her way into her elderly husband’s will, she would have surely caught wind of Eddie Munson’s suspicious activity, and had your house flooded with flashing reds and blues as he sat in the backseat of a police car; hands in cuffs and boner in boxers.

But Mrs. Winthrop hadn’t been home. And Eddie had deliberated the risk of a possible wandering neighbor catching a glimpse of his dubious acts, and taken it, because in doing so, he was met with the glory of an empty driveway to your home. Where a car—like the silver sedan he learned your mother drove to drop you off to school or the black truck he learned your father drove to pick you up from school—was typically parked had been abandoned to an emptiness, leaving the cemented path to your garage exposed. And peering just a little to the left, he would come face-to-face with the familiar fateful sentiment of that of an empty driveway: an empty curb.

Long gone were the risks of parental interference.

Eddie Munson was fucking you tonight.

Your doorbell had diffused into quietness. Hidden behind the denim pockets of his jacket, his fists balled tightly, as his mind ran through the notions of how he would manifest this to occur. Worst case scenario, you’d reject his advances… possibly realize his agenda… might call him a freak… definitely a perv… probably slap him in the face, he would deserve it… you could tell the whole school… it would surely spread across town… then the torches and pitchforks would come out- yeah, okay, he should really stop overthinking right about now. But then there were the other thoughts. The thoughts- the debauched thoughts that filled his head of just you and your body completely at his mercy. Best case scenario, you’d fall into his arms… he’d shove his hot tongue down your throat- ooh, better yet, his cock… he’d certainly grope the fattiness of your ass… might tug on your nipples with his teeth… spit on your clit… fuck, then undoubtedly plunge his cock into your cunt until it was drowning in his sticky cum. There was only so much space behind the seam of his zipper before his growing dick would burst through.

The ten seconds of impending footsteps held no merit of preparation for Eddie Munson to secure the steady breath of cool, calm, and collected like he wanted to. He was supposed to up his bravado, put on that bad boy demeanor he knew to flaunt while strutting the streets of Hakwins, Indiana to ensure his character was never physically targeted by the clear disdain the town held for him. And it worked. Never once had it failed to be intimidating. In fact, that very intimidation that was going to be his reliable source of timidly scaring you tino pulling up the soft cotton of your top to flash him the bouncing volume of your boobs for him to pervertedly grab. If it had to get that far.

But that was all too easy.

And Eddie Munson hadn’t accounted for the fact that his breath would hitch at mere sight of you beaconing him into your humble home with a peachy “Hi, Eddie” and that sinful skirt that seemed to love your body just as much as he did from the way it clung to your dips and curves.

“H-Hi, sweetness.” His lips hungry rolled against themselves, as his eyes raked your silhouette upon entering the foyer of your house. “I, uh, I didn’t see anyone in the driveway. C-Can I assume we’re, um, alone?” Eddie shyly smiled.

You were there to kindly answer. “Oh, yeah! My parents drove out of town to attend a familiar friend’s wedding.” See, this is where an attempt at a nice conversation could have occurred, had you not daintily secured your hands together behind your back with pristine posture. With your puffed chest, Eddie’s eyes had absentmindedly diverted to the now pebbling outline of your nipples that seemingly hardened from the draft Eddie had brought in. Heaven truly was a place on Earth- or whatever the hell that Belinda chick sang about. “I hope that’s alright.” You giggled.

“Huh…?”

“I mean, I’m definitely nowhere near as good a cook as my mom, but I made those cookies for you as a treat, and I hope you’ll like them.” You bit your lip. “But, um, if you’re still hungry, we can totally order something for dinner.”

Eddie didn’t know what was louder, the beating in his heart or his cock. Either way, it was blatantly obvious the effect you had on him, and his body was desperately lurching for yours. “Oh, yeah, no, uh, no worries. I-I, um- sorry, I’m just a bit… nervous.” He shied away with a teasing grin.

What more could be expected? Out of the kindness of your heart, your face contorted with concern. “Oh, please don’t be nervous!” You held a soft grip to his bicep, pulling him close. Hook. “I know it can be a little scary being tutored, but I promise you’re totally in control here.” And reel. “We’ll go at your pace. I’m here to help you, remember?” You’d be doting on him the whole night.

If intimidation wasn’t going to get him to see your pussy tonight, maybe the kicked puppy act will.

A sickening smirk consumed his face, and his hand flew over his heart. “Aren’t you just the sweetest? Got the prettiest heart and face in this town, huh?”

Oh, and how that compliment had you flustering in his grace, looking away with a breaking smile of demure. Being tutored may not have been the most conventional way of getting laid, but the favor was working on his side, and Eddie was loving his ingenious idea of stealing your advertising slip. “I- well, um, thank you, Eddie.” You smiled, attempting to meet his eyes again. “You know, you’re really nice, too. I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Donna.”

“Donna?” That crank with a stick up her ass, who seemingly tried to control every little thing you did? That Donna?!

Now, say all you want about the morality of following around someone you love, but don’t misconstrued things here, Eddie Munson was not a stalker. Nope. Nuh-uh. Sure, he liked to linger around you, who wouldn’t? And, while, yes, oftentimes- no, all the times, you didn’t know of his presence, but still, it wasn’t stalking. He was just learning things about you. Yeah, learning things. Learning the make and model of your parents’ vehicles. Learning your class schedule in hopes of catching glimpses of you in the hallways. Learning about your favorite subjects and what you hated. Learning the acts that guys did that made your face scrunch up with disgust. And yes, learning about Donna fucking McIntyre, who did seem to catch on to his stalking presence- no, linger presence (totally not a stalker).

In the many instances Eddie stood close enough to eavesdrop on your conversations, he’d grown quite a distaste for Donna McIntyre. Actually, it’d do no justice to deduce his hatred as “distaste.” Eddie Munson fucking hated Donna McIntyre. Listening to her speak was like shoving a knife through his eardrum. He’d only endure it if it meant hearing your honey voice and learning more about you. This particular disdain for your close friend hadn’t appeared from thin air, no, Eddie Munson had complete reasons to hate the ginger; Donna McIntyre had sensibility. Where your naivety had you blissfully unaware of Eddie’s hungry stare, Donna McIntyre had caught onto every one of his perversions. Call it bias, he didn’t care, he hated her. In hindsight, your two year friendship with her had truly saved you from some compromising situations in which creepy men bestowed themselves upon you. Donna McIntyre was there to save you. Leave no girl behind. And you loved her for it.

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, despised her for it.

A daily routine had manifested itself between the two rivals. One where Eddie would lovingly stare at your perched breasts spewing from your low-cut top, only to accidentally make eye contact with Donna during his spare seconds of eyeing you, being met with one of the most—rightfully—disgusted stares from her. He was left scoffing every time she grappled onto your elbow and pulled you away wherever you stepped within his vicinity.

“Yeah.” You sorely pouted. “See, she’s, like, my best friend ever, but she always says the nastiest things about you.”

“Like what?” He questioned with squinted eyes.

“Well, I don’t want to say the mean names she calls you, but she always mentions how I need to stay away from you; something about you being bad news.” You huffed. “I mean, literally before you came here, I called her all excited that I was finally tutoring someone tonight, because it looks really good on college applications, you know? But when I told her it was you, she completely lost it, saying you were just taking advantage of me.” Fucking divine interference?!

Eddie Munson had to give it to her. She may have been a pain in the ass, but Donna McIntyre was smart.

“Uh, well, y’know, princess, some people are just downright rude.” He dejectedly suspired. “People have been pickin’ on me since I was a child, y’know? Just because I’m different.” Maybe the bruised kid was taking it a little too far, but a special place in hell was already being dedicated to Eddie Munson, with a fiery plaque being engraved with the devil’s sharp talon, so did he care? No. Not when his sob story had you jumping to console him with a sympathizing hug, one where your tits squished against his chest, and he reveled in the feeling of your poking nipples brushing against his body.

A more than content hum groaned out of Eddie’s mouth, as he wrapped you close, and inhaled a waft of your perfect smell. “I’m so sorry, Eds.” Your heart of gold oozed out with all sadness for him.

“It’s okay, baby-”

“No, it’s not.” You pulled back to pout at him. “People shouldn’t treat you like that. It’s mean. People shouldn’t be mean to you.” Eddie cooed, copying your protruding lips, and sighed happily at your word of action. “You have me as a friend now! And I promise that I’ll never be mean to you. I just want to be nice to you. All the time, be nice to you.”

There’s no way you couldn’t feel his boner pressing into your tummy. “Aw, precious, I’d really like that. You’ll be nice to me? Do anything for me? Make me feel good?”

The quickness to your fervent nod had a sickening grin formulating on Eddie’s expression. “Yes, of course! Always, that’s what friends do.” You smiled. In a flash, you acted on impulse and pressed your lips to his cheek, where your gloss had marked his skin and burned his body. Witnessing you shyly smile at him afterwards had his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. “I just wanna help you out.” You whispered.

“You can definitely help me, princess.” He spoke in hushed tones. “Y’know how you can help me?” His face gravitated to yours, target of interest aiming for your lips.

And you looked at him with those innocent, round eyes. “Tutoring you!” You beamed, like you just answered the million dollar question on a game show- well, not Eddie’s preferred game show.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat with a forced laugh to keep you smiling, “yes, of course, sweetheart, tutoring me. That’s the only reason I came here, anyway.” He internally perished.

You squealed in excitement, jumping from the giddiness of being helpful. “Yay!” You beamed, forcing Eddie to follow suit, his faux enthusiasm compelling him to swallow thickly in order to constrain the blood back to his brain if he was going to sit through a tutoring lesson before seeing your ass in whatever baby pink thong he pictured you wearing. You laced your hand within his—being his only saving grace for enduring schoolwork after hours—and tugged him into the coziness of your living room. “So, are you taking American History or World History?”

“Uh…” Two years ago, Wayne Munson urged his nephew to exercise his newfound 26th Amendment Right to vote at the ripe age of eighteen for the 1984 Presidential Election. Granted, not so much newfound, given that Eddie was still falling off of monkey bars when protests about the monstrosity of what was going on Vietnam managed to lower the voting age; but nonetheless, Eddie had gotten severely tired of being bombarded by Reagan signs that infested every neighborhood street he drove past, enabling him to proudly wear Hawkins’ very own rendition of the ‘I Voted’ sticker. Though, the excitement was short lived, when the Munsons gruffed in disappointment watching Ronald Reagan win his reelection and haunt their lives for another four years to come. Eddie Munson didn’t know what the hell was going on with the world fifty years ago, but the CBS Morning News was raving about the wave of the conservative movement, talks of Gorbachev meeting Reagan was happening, something called the internet was kinda freaking him out, and Eddie Munson voted, so how’s that for American history for you?

“American- yeah, yeah, American History.”

“Perfect!” He followed your movements, and joined you on the couch, textbooks and cookies laid out in uniform perfection against the wood of your coffee table. Just for him. “With Mr. Conklin? Or Mendez?”

“Mendez.” At least, he did when he was still a junior and vandalizing the back desk with engravings of immature pornographic sketches.

“Oh! Donna’s also in that class.” Eye fucking roll. “She told me about that killer quiz you guys had today. Said something about how none of the questions were on the study guide that Mr. Mendez gave to y’all.”

Eddie drawed out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah.” He lied right through his teeth. “I-It’s why I came to you, sweetheart! I completely flunked that quiz, and- well, then, you- you were just like this angel sent from heaven, offering your help.” He grinned watching you heat up from his heavy stare. “Just meant to be, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Your nerves flustered, as your teeth bit into your lip. “I’m happy to help you, Eds. Anytime you need.” You could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. “Um, did you, uh, bring your books?” Actually getting a good look at him, Eddie hadn’t brought anything. At all. “Or, um, at least… some notes?”

A whistle of slow realization escaped Eddie’s mouth. “Uh… oh, y’know what happened? See, I was just spiraling from the quiz, a-and then I got so nervous for our tutoring lesson that, y’know, it just completely slipped my mind. I’m sorry, princess.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay.” A sweet reassurance came from your part. “We can just share my book.” You patted the distant space of cushion between you two, one which Eddie gladly took up.

And, my god, was he happy he did, because thighs touching thighs, scents mixing with scents, body pressed against body, and one look down, Eddie was exposed to the glory of low-cut shirts, and your tits presented themselves so beautifully to his eyesight. But a worn textbook weighing the size of a fat dog had slammed into his lap, and suddenly his eyes were tainted by the image of an old, white man who surely didn’t arouse him like the picture of your boobs.

“Great… Thomas Jefferson.” A tight-lipped smile concealed his dismay.

“Uh,” your shy giggle captivated his attention, “no, Eddie, that’s actually James Monroe.”

“Psh.” He puffed his cheeks, nonchalantly waving his hand in the air to brush off his blatant error of mistake. “Right. Totally knew that, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay if you didn’t.” You smiled. “I’m here to help you, remember?”

“Mhm.” His arm circled around your shoulders, letting your rest back in the comfortable bliss of soft cushions and his presence. He hummed seeing you tuck within yourself, thighs pressing into one another, and he could only imagine what you were trying to relieve. Because Eddie Munson had made you feel things. The sweet tingles you would get when you were alone at night and had all the time to yourself. When you would visualize what it would be like to have a boy like you, enough to want to be your boyfriend, and what you two would get up to. Lacey Fisher, four weeks ago, returned from her weekend birthday trip, and confided in you on how her boyfriend, Henry Aronofsky, took her virginity. She detailed to your curious mind that it had hurt. The initial intrusion, it stung. But then he kept going. And it started to feel good. But what was even better was the closeness. His body on hers. His lips on hers.

You craved that. And having Eddie’s domineering heat radiate on your skin had your pussy pulsating with a thumping tingle that you didn’t know what to do with. Eddie was cute. Cuter than Nathan Cavanugh, Bryce Walters, or Harrison Moran. Eddie Munson had an edge that made you question why your cotton underwear was becoming uncomfortably wet under his stare. How could Donna McIntyre not like him? He was scarily hot.

“W-What,” You cleared your throat, “what, um, period are you guys on… in Mr. Mendez’s class?”

Shit. “Uh…”

“It was period four, no?” You opened the textbook on his lap, flipping the silk pages to thumb through the chapters. “Donna had mentioned it, said she wanted me to help her study this weekend.”

Thank god for Donna McIntyre’s big ass mouth. Even if it did shit-talk him. “Yeah, yeah, period four, mhm.”

“Okay, so lucky for you, we will be talking about Thomas Jefferson today.” You chuckled. “Period four spans from 1800 to 1848, which will cover different aspects like the developmental growth of political parties as a result from the expansion of suffrage, and definitive aspects of American culture expounded by the Era of Good Feelings…”

Fuck me.

Eddie Munson sat through forty-seven minutes of the Jeffersonian Era, listening of the profoundness of the Revolution of 1800s, and America’s god given right to expansion and the manifest destiny- or whatever bullshit propaganda that damn textbook pounded out to high schoolers just to get to some pussy. But if the United States could gain the delusional superiority complex to conquer and prosper on westward, Eddie Munson could do the same- well, on you. This was just one obstacle. One hurdle. One step closer to obtaining his holy grail of getting his dream girl. Shoving a dozen of the triple chocolate chunk cookies you’d baked him was enough to get him through the painful lecture of the demise of the Federalist Party, though, the events of the Mexican-American War was interesting enough to get him into cheering on Mexican troops over Texan volunteers during the Battle of the Alamo, but enough was enough.

“…With the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, the U.S was able to gain the southwest territory, which would include New Mexico, Utah, Nevada, and California, but Mr. Mendez likes specifics, so also be sure to remember we gained the majority of Arizona and Colorado, which bled into parts of Kansas, Wyoming, and Oklahoma.” You huffed in one breath. “Oh! And recall the Monroe Doctrine! Given that we had now warned European countries of the potential threats that would happen if they continued to colonize the western hemisphere, the American win over Mexico had further cemented the U.S as growing world power, which gets into the promotion of democracy and isolationism, which we can get into next-”

“Okay, sweetheart, stop right there.” Eddie scrunched his eyes in agony, cutting you off from proffering anymore mush that was stirring in his already confused brain. “Sorry, uh- sorry, but, like, can we take a break?” He sighed.

“Oh.” Embarrassment rushed to your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sometimes I can get too much into things, we can totally take a break or, um, call it a day if you’d like-”

“No, no, no, no.” He adamantly interjected, closing the textbook with crumpled notes of his compulsory—upon your request—chicken scratch handwriting, brandishing it away next to the crumb-filled platter that once was delicious baked goods. “No, baby, trust me, I don’t want the night to end.” He delicately nudged your chin with his finger, a teasing smile to pair. “I just got a little headache, s’all.”

“Well, are you sure you don’t want to leave to get some rest?” Your brows molded with concern. “We can pick this up tomorrow, or whenever you’re free.”

Eddie Munson played into his bluster of confidence, leaning in close to run a rough-tipped finger down the dough of your thigh, letting your skin wake and react to his heated touch. “What if I wanna rest here with you?” He whispered. “Have you take care of me?”

You gulped. “Um, l-like what?” You nervously giggled. “I can, like, make you soup for-for your headache.”

“Well, I was thinking more like we can lay down.” He pouted to emphasize his pained facade. “Will you take care of me in bed, baby?”

You licked your lips timidly. “Um, I-I don’t really know if that’s, like, a-appropriate for, um, study sessions. Like, I don’t want you to think I brought you here under the guise of doing… stuff.”

“You can say it, princess.” He smiled. “Say it. You didn’t bring me here to have sex.”

Hearing Eddie’s sultry voice whisper the word had sparked up the special tingles nestled between your thighs, and he could see the sensation consuming your being. “Um, y-yeah. I didn’t bring you here to h-have sex.” Heart racing, you could barely gain the courage to force your eyes upon him. “That’s what, um, Harrison thought when I offered to tutor him.”

“Aw, no, I know, pretty girl.” He cooed, as he firm hand squeezed down on your thigh, pressing the hem of your skirt high. Your sunken teeth had become your only extenuative from letting out a squeal from the jolting sensation. “God, those morons are just dicks. Don’t appreciate how good of a tutor you are. How much of a good girl you are. Right, baby? You’re just such a good girl looking to help, huh?”

You nodded to confirm his sentiment. “Yes, Eddie.”

His hand creeped to separate yours, where they stayed tightly clasped within one another, and he rubbed his fingers against the softness of your warm palm, before confining your hand with his. “Why don’t we go to your room to just relax for a bit, sweetheart? You smell so good, bet your room smells just like you. I love it so much.”

“Uh…”

“It’ll make me feel so much better, princess.” He cajoled. “C’mon, that’s what friends do, right? You said it yourself, sweetheart.”

“And then we’ll study again?” You eyed him with a twinkle in your eyes.

“Man, you really like history, huh?” He teased with a chuckle.

“Of course!” You happily answered, which had him smiling at your enthused face that glowed giddily. “Why wouldn’t I like something I’m good at?” Spoken with all the confidence.

Eddie softly laughed in admiration. “You’re so cute.” He gave your thigh another tender squeeze. “Why don’t we do this: you make me feel good, like friends do, and I promise to make you feel extra good?” He stuck out a promising pinky, as he watched you consider his all too innocent proposition. “I’ll make you feel so good, precious.” He whispered.

“Just relaxing? A small break?”

“Mhm.” He smirked. Fairly ambiguous; not necessarily a lie if not clearly verbalized. But just enough to get you alone in your bedroom. Pinky promised.

Hands held together, you guided Eddie Munson through the halls of your house to reach your beloved bedroom, where secrecy and intimacy laid between the silks and cottons of your sheets. Each step had Eddie’s dick thumping with excitement, just as anticipated as his heartbeat racing out of his chest. You had never had a boy in your room. In fact, this would have to go untold to the authority of your mother and father, too archaic to understand the innocence of it all. Because that’s all it was. Right? Helping a friend in need to aid him to recovery. Headaches can be killer. Mrs. Weber's fourth period chemistry class often had you succumbed with migraines. Science wasn’t like history. As how Eddie Munson wasn’t like Harrison Moran. He wouldn’t do you as the star quarterback tried with you. Because Eddie Munson was different. Nothing like Donna McIntyre tried to get you to believe. He was different. Right?

“We can just relax here for a bit.” You spoke, as you both entered the confines of your room.

The essence of your own personal girlhood defined the sacred space of your room. Where clean, white walls brightened the mood, personal pictures and feminine posters had livened it up. Sweetness had invaded Eddie’s nose, as he was surely met with the arousing smell of your perfume, predicted to the exact notion. Gold jewelry, the one that complemented your skin beautifully, where dainty necklaces would become suffocated in the valley of your tits, where shiny earrings would decorate your earlobes that Eddie wanted to mouth on, had displayed themselves neatly amongst the products of beauty and self care. Pinks and silks, frills and lace, embodying your sweetness to a T. Effeminate in all aspects of nature.

And Eddie Munson was ready to defile everything.

Unabashedly, Eddie had breached beyond the realms of a visitor’s right, and taken advantage of the whole ‘make yourself at home’ sentiment that you had actually never spoken; nonetheless, he’d marched his way to your comforting bed occupied by a number of stuffed animals that unfairly got the privilege of seeing you in your most intimate times.

He splayed himself on the expanse of cushions, a groan leaving his mouth as he relished in the feeling of a bed that wasn’t stabbing of springs, starfishing the expanse that left you giggling on the sideline. “What’re you laughin’ at, you little punk?” He perked.

“Don’t be mean.” You laughed, watching him grab onto one of the many companions that inhabited your bed.

“Mm, I think I’m deserving of pokin’ a little fun at someone who owns like fifty stuffed animals.” He smirked, as he beckoned you with a curling finger.

Given his limbs had almost entirely taken up the breadth of your bed, you were left to sit back on your heels, posture pristine as ever, with your hands neatly kept on the safety of your thighs. Such a sight for sore eyes. Brazen without a care, he hungrily eyed you top to bottom. Bitten lips to round boobs to soft waist to expanding hips. Your revealing skirt inching away and away, giving him a sneak peak to his next meal.

But while his stares lingered on your body, yours had unintentionally followed suit. Laid flat, the apparent bulge beneath worn denim did not hold merit to the art of concealment, and a quiet gasp left your mouth as you scolded yourself for even peering at your newfound friend like that. “N-Not fifty.” You sternly stated with a smile to get your head straight. “Just four.”

“Still a lot.” He said, investigating the furriness of a chubby bumblebee, one where pink and white instead took over the naturally occurring black and yellow.

“Oh.” His comment had suddenly hit you in a way that made you shame with embarrassment. Unbeknownst to him, of course, he was still finding amusement in the flappy wings of the plushy insect. “Um, d-do you think it’s, like, childish? N-Not mature?” You scratched the back of your neck. Perhaps it was the attachment to the juvenile interest—referred to as by Montgomery Davis, a former love interest that didn’t last too long—that prohibited you from finding an adequate boy to be with.

He had chuckled at the fat stinger. There’s no way that could impale someone. But he had heard the apprehension in your voice, peering up from your stuffed animal to see your more than disappointed face. “Oh, no, baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly forwent Bugsbee the Bee to the side, as a calloused hand landed on your knee for reassurance. Sitting up, Eddie Munson overstepped the boundaries of a tutee to whisper his hot breath against your lips. “I fuckin’ love ‘em. So cute, babe. Just like you.”

“Really?” Your dough eyes scanned his face.

“Would I ever lie to you, sweetheart?” He pinched your cheek. “That’s just not what friends do.” He smiled, as he laid back down. “So, is that what you like to do for fun? Get stuffed animals?”

“Um, not necessarily.” You beamed. “I just like having them around, you know? Keep me company for the things I do like to do.”

“Like what, baby?” He squeezed your knee. “Tell me all that you like doing.”

“Well, let's see, oh, uh, I love journaling. Like, writing my feelings down.” He nodded along, prodding as encouragement for further information. “Uh, typically it started out just in the morning, like, when I wake up, I’d write about what I’d like to accomplish for the day. But then, I kinda realized it’d be nice to vent after a long day, so now, I really just do it whenever.” You shrugged.

Boys didn’t care about this stuff, but Eddie Munson asked questions. “Yeah?" He grinned. “That sounds nice, baby. Feels like some therapy shit I need.” He chuckled. “Does it make you feel good to write about your feelings?”

“Yeah!” You happily answered. “Um, sometimes it's hard to talk about what I’m feeling to my friends. Like, Donna, for example; she’s got her whole life planned out, she’s so smart. If it’s hard for me to understand what I’m feeling, then I know Donna won’t. I’m scared she’ll judge me.”

“Donna’s a bitch.” He gruffed, with a groan of disdain.

“No, don’t say that, that’s mean.” You chastised him. “She’s my friend, Eddie.”

“Right, right, sorry, baby.” He quickly made up for it. “It’s just hard to get along with her, s’all. But, uh, this journaling… what kinda feelings do you write about? Like, uh, I don’t know, private ones? You can tell me, honey.”

You nervously laughed, squirming in the seated position of being on your calves. “Y-Yeah, like, uh, well sometimes I worry that I won’t ever get, like, a real boyfriend. Like, a serious relationship. Not like whatever gross hookup the boys at our school want. I don’t want that.”

Eddie caressed the skin of your leg. “Totally, babe. Don’t waste your time with the little boys at our school. You need a real man, huh? Someone who’s gonna take care of their pretty girl.” He smirked, as you nodded in agreement.

Your heart lumped out of your chest, as you followed the languid movements of his large hand encapsulating your bent knee. His touch felt fiery against your skin, creating a series of goosebumps in his guided path, like a mark of territory. Your thighs, once again, clenched at his mercy. Seeing the prominent blue veins reveal themselves from under his alabaster skin had you striked with a familiar heated tingle. The tingles you’d have to satiate alone at night. “You think I can find someone like that?” You softly asked with all vulnerability.

Eddie snaked his hand upward to gently hold one of yours. “Ugh, absolutely, princess, are you crazy? Sexiest and sweetest thing in the world, remember I told you? I meant it, baby. Sometimes you just gotta look right in front of you.” He smugly smiled. Your mouth went dry, as you attempted to ease your flustered smile. “Just like me, I need a princess to take care of.”

“Mhm, you deserve someone nice, Eddie.”

“But, uh, I also need someone who’s not gonna judge me.” He perfected a pout that had you sympathizing at his feet. “Y’know, like I said before, some people are just so mean, wouldn’t understand me. Would you judge me, princess?”

“Oh, no! Never, Eddie! Solemnly, I understand the feeling, I’d never do that to you.” You preached with such vehemence, it had Eddie’s blood pooling to the length of his dick with a sickening smile eating his face.

“So, you wouldn’t judge me if I told you what I like to do for fun, baby?” He played with your fingers, an act of innocence that had your heart soaring.

“Nuh-uh.” You affirmed with a shake of your head. “You can tell me.” You delicately approached.

“Well, sweetheart, I really really love touching myself.” He whispered, reveling in the sensation of your hand automatically squeezing his in a tightening hold, eyes rounding in surprise. “I do it all the time, sweetheart.”

“Oh.” Flustered beyond recognition, the single word had become the only thing trusted to speak, as his admission had ignited millions of sparkling tingles, letting a gush of wetness uncomfortably soak your precious underwear.

He sneered with delight in power. “You’re not judgin’ me, are ya, baby?”

“No, no!” You rushed out. “I, uh- it’s totally n-normal… um, doing that. People- everyone does it.”

“Yeah?” He piqued with interest, watching you unfold into his ingenious trap. “You do it, too, princess?”

Your cheeks were invaded by hot blood, tainting your face with humiliation at the thought of giving up such intimate information. But he was your friend. You didn’t want him to feel judged. And lying was awful. Taught by the man, himself, Honest Abe. Great, and now history was being brought up again! It felt as if the devil had blown his burning breath to flame your face with embarrassment, but the devil was enticing, inching you to the darkside, where you’d be gifted with the persuasion of pure hedonism for the rest of your life. Eddie Munson was the devil. Materialized in the most euphoric way possible.

You were wriggling, letting spiking friction torment your pussy under his glare. He was waiting. “Um, y-yeah, Eddie. I-I do it. Sometimes.”

An airy groan left his mouth, one he didn’t obscure, simply letting it out for you to witness. “Mm, I knew you would. Pretty girls like you love to touch themselves.” Holding his hand seemed to be the only form of comfort to enduring his gross words. You didn’t want to let go. “Love rubbing your pussy, don’t you baby?”

You didn’t like that word. But words deemed filthy by your definition only seemed to burn you coming from the mouth of Eddie Munson, himself. Harrison Moran once said he’d like to see your pussy. It made you scowl in disgust, and kick him out. But Eddie Munson had you enamored.

“Yeah.” You whispered bluntly, feeling that his trust could leave you to softly speak with no repercussion.

“Tell me, sweetheart, with your fingers?” He embraced your hand. “You play with your pussy with your fingers, put ‘em inside to fuck yourself?” Before you could reason, your head had taken the liberty to shake itself for you. No. Eddie’s brow lifted in confusion. Not to define you by the shyness of your nature, but you hadn’t necessarily struck the pervert, himself, as a user of sex toys. Well, at least, he hoped not. Something about introducing you to the world of vibrators and dildos made his cock jump with joy. “You don’t finger yourself?

“Hands are too small.” You meekly answered, so lightly he could barely hear it.

“What do you do then, baby?”

Perhaps the alchemy of wizardry and spell casting from his beloved hobby of Dungeons and Dragons had magically manifested itself into his current reality—at the very least, it felt as though it had—as Eddie Munson’s words had you reeling in a sudden candid behavior too unfamiliar to your prospective nature. Not to say fibbery came as an innate trait for you, in fact, you honored yourself in the frankness of your words.

But you had never acted on impulsion.

And it felt as though Eddie’s provocative language had you destined at his mercy, forcing your body to act with no regards. There was no thinking under his gaze. No hesitation. For the briefest second of quickness, your eyes had landed in the ivory plush of an adorably stuffed bunny sat just three inches away from his shoulder, that had answered his ribald question.

Your cheeks had ablazened when his quick eye followed your glance that lingered in the air. The corner of his lip had disgustingly peaked into a diabolical smirk, as his perverted mind exploded at the revelation. “Aw, sweetheart.” He groaned, a curious hand reaching out for your bunny.

“No, Eddie!” You tried to jeopardize his movements with urgency. “D-Don’t touch it, it’s not-”

“What is it, sweetheart?” He picked up the bunny, despite your protests. Eddie examined the cute stuffy, his perverted reflection shining back at him through the glassy, round eyes that mimicked your humiliated ones. “Shit, princess, you rub your pretty pussy on your bunny, hm? Does humping your stuffed animal feel better than fucking your fingers inside your cunt?”

“Eddie.” You whined with embarrassment, so shamefaced, dropping your head in your hands to conceal your burning expression.

“It’s okay, darlin’.” He smiled, loving the twisted feeling of having his dick pulsate at your sheepish state. Eddie pried your hands away, revealing your timid face to him. “Remember, baby, I’m not judgin’ you, I just wanna know. Friends, they tell each other everything and help one another out, you gotta tell me, baby.” With a single hand gripping both your wrists tightly, you refused to look him in the eye, fear consuming you at the thought of Eddie Munson finding you gross for your actions. A wave of tears were threatening your eyes, and you hoped peering at the organized clutter of your nightstand would be enough to withstand the mortifying experience of crying after having him learn what you did.

“You’re gonna make fun of me.” Your trembling lip managed to mutter out.

“Aw, no, baby, I would never.” He turned your chin to force you to face him. “Honestly, sweetheart, thinkin’ of you doing that is so sexy.” He groaned with a bite to his lip. “God, picturing you humping your little stuffed animal has me feeling a little hot, see.” His hand deserted your face to rake over his pronouncing bulge, that seemed larger than before. “Mm, got me so worked up, baby. This is all your fault.” He moaned, squeezing his cock with a heavy hand.

Your mouth had opened at the sight of him touching himself over his pants. Those funny tingles had bursted between your thighs, and so insecurely, you questioned him. “Really?”

“Ugh, absolutely, babe.” He returned to your bunny, laying back to play with the small arms of your teddy, as his hand remained stationed on his boner, massaging his erection with breathy grunts leaving his mouth. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” While attempting to ease your emotional nerves, Eddie had taken a good look at your bunny, the evidence of your usage being found in the matted fur surrounding the pink nose of your innocent companion. “Shit, did you fuck yourself this morning, baby?”

“That’s why I didn’t want you to touch it!” You dreaded. “I promise I’ll clean it, give it here-”

A loud gasp left your mouth, as Eddie rejected your request, bringing your stuffed bunny nose to nose, inhaling a waft of the lingering scent of your pussy. His eyes closed in ecstasy, moaning loudly as your raw smell invaded his being, rubbing the tent in his pants harshly for any form of relief. “Fuck, baby, you smell so good. I gotta touch myself.” He flung your precious stuffed animal back, in reach for his belt, cursing under his breath as his abrasive movements momentarily caused the leather to tighten when needing to be off.

“W-What?” Your brows jumped to crease your forehead.

“I can’t help it, baby, you’ve got me so fucking hard right now.” Eddie tugged opened his belt, rushing to undo the brass button of his pants. “Fuck, you’re not gonna judge me, right? That’s not what friends do. In fact, friends help each other out. Especially when they’re as sexy as you, baby.”

Swollen to a girth of thickness, Eddie’s cock smacked out with eagerness to fuck, and his precum oozed out, as he watched your face morph into surprise at seeing the first cock in your life. His ringed hand wrapped around himself, cursing under his breath as he felt the jolts of pleasure crash over him. “I touch myself like this, baby, fuck.” He squeezed the head of his cock, smearing his precum down to his base. “Do it so much to you, god, fuck me, princess, I think about you all the time. Can’t stop myself from jerking off at the thought of your pretty, little face.” Eddie whined.

Your lips stayed stationed agape from the divulgence and sight of what was occurring in front of you. You hadn’t even prospered the fact that your body was reacting more candidly than your mind had anticipated, and Eddie nearly blew his load watching your thighs swish against one another to relieve your arousal. “Y-You think about me?” You delicately spoke.

“Of course, fuck, fucking look at yourself, mm.” He tightened his grip. “Shit, baby, are you feeling horny, too? Is lookin’ at me making you wanna rub that fucking pussy?”

“U-Um, I-I don’t know.” Nervous eyes attempt to look around for anything that wasn’t Eddie Munson masturbating in your bed. “I-I don’t wanna do anything… anything bad. I don’t wanna get in trouble, Eds.”

“No, no, baby, it’s not bad, it’s good- so fucking good.” He sucked in his breath, as his hand picked up the pace. “Fuck, you’ll feel so good, darlin’- let me make you feel good, princess.” Eddie heaved, inching his large hand up your thigh until his fingers brushed your risened skirt. “Don’t tell anyone, and we won’t get in trouble.”

You watched with heavy pants, as Eddie’s strength managed to dig his fingers into the fat of your inner thigh to part them, and reveal those drenched baby pink panties he so perfectly predicted in the filth hive of his mind. “L-Like this- um, Eddie I’ve never done this with someone else, I-I don’t what to do-”

“Shh, shh.” He demanded, saving your breath from a wrecking tirade of being inexperienced. “Just let me touch you like good friends do.” His fingertips skimmed the puddle in your panties, causing an unwarranted squeal to escape your mouth, as you bucked your hips into his touch. “Oh, my-”

“Mm, Eds, you’re making me feel funny!” You attempted to close your legs, but his hand was quick to lightly slap your thigh in refusal.

“Don’t fucking close your legs, fuck, just let me touch you.” His grip held you exposed to him, and he was aggressive with the way the pad of thumb smushed against your covered clit, forcing you to ball your sheets into your tightening fists.

A guttural moan was ripped from you, as his thumb worked intricately to circle your clit, letting your hips ride his fingers. “E-Eddie!”

“That’s right, just hump my fucking hand, baby.” He whined, as he continued to jerk his cock, until his hips were following in sync with yours; his pivoting to thrust into his hand, yours grinding in desperate need for release. “Shit, touch me like I’m touching you- fuck, put your hands on me.”

Eddie’s slick hand grappled onto your wrist, pulling your resisting fist from your balled blanket onto his dick, where he maneuvered your fingers to wrap around his girth and mimic the strokes he once gave himself. A surge of wetness gushed at your given ability to elicit a deep groan from Eddie Munson. Seeing him react to your touch as such spurred a wave of confidence to continue your ministration, tightening your grip around his dick and providing him the languid movements that had his heavy sack pulsating with a need to cum.

But Eddie Munson’s ego was growing expeditiously.

And he wasn’t about to be putty in your hands- your oh so tiny, soft hands that gripped him like a vice and made him to want to fuck it for an eternity. No. Not when his hand was cupping your hot pussy, fingers becoming moist through your wet underwear, as they dug between your lips to rub that sensitive little clit and had you whimpering at his command.

“Fuck, stand up, princess.” He shoved your hand off his cock, simultaneously choosing to regrettably tear his away from the warmth of your cunt.

Whining in despair, you stuttered. “W-What? Why?”

“Because,” Eddie positioned himself to the edge of bed, grabbing your hand to guide onto wobbly feets, pins and needles pricking your legs as they woken from their previous position, “I’m gonna put my cock between your pretty, little lips.”

Manspreading, his thighs parted for your residence, Eddie’s penis burning red with desire, as it hung heavy against his abdomen, each protruding vein slimed with a coat of his precum. His hands rested on your hips, and he smirked as he took in the sight of your body, one he desired so much to just touch and violate for his pleasure. The blatantly obvious was shown in your face; your undivided attention had primarily focused on his dick, and he couldn’t help the chuckle of egotism that erupted from his chest, as he smoothed down the bumps and curves of your body.

“Aw, you like looking at my cock, princess?” He sneered with a drenching voice of condescendment that had your head snapping with embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“No, no, baby, don’t be.” Eddie’s focus began shifting to the hem of your shirt, teasing it up to reveal the soft navel of your belly. “It’s all yours to look at. Just like your pussy is all mine.” He bit his lip. “Especially when I fuck my cock inside of you, hm, you gonna let me, baby?”

That had your chest heaving with bursts of nerves, both good and bad. To know Eddie wanted that closeness with you was profoundly what had your heart fluttering with the idea of him loving you to a committed relationship. One where he was a boy calling you his girlfriend, and you were a girl calling him your boyfriend. But Lacey Fisher’s words had suddenly begun playing in your head like a record on loop. “It hurt.”

And Eddie Munson’s cock was pulsating at a length in which both of your hands had to wrap around his girth just to mount it.

“Um, I-I don’t, uh- Eddie I’ve never done that b-before… I want you, like, to be my boyfriend, right? Like, this is what boyfriend-girlfriends do? B-But maybe I should wait- or we should… as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

There was a little hint in your voice. The way you suggested your ending in a lighter octave, fear that Eddie didn’t want to be your boyfriend, that he’d be just like Harrison Moran. But Eddie Munson wasn’t Harrison Moran, and his smile lit up at the timidness of your stature.

His dream girl.

“I get to be your boyfriend, baby?” He leaned in to press a tender kiss upon your thigh.

A shy smile corrupted your face, as you nodded to his question. “Mhm! Is it okay if we kiss like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

He chuckled at your cuteness, squeezing the meat of your legs in frustration at the overload he was feeling for you. “Of course, princess, c’mere.” Bending slightly at the waist, Eddie took the liberty of enduring most of the labor of stretching as far as he could until his lips crashed upon yours. Your mouth just as sweet as your being, Eddie moaned at the moisturizing sensation of the vanilla strawberry lip gloss that conjoined you together. His hands were aggressive to suddenly keep your cheeks in place, forbidding you to leave his mouth until he was ready to let go. It’s why you squealed when learning Eddie had no shame being the messy kisser he was; pushing his tongue between your lips, clashing teeth with teeth, consuming your mouth, and plunging an obscene amount of spit to your tongue, as his ravished in exploration. “Mm, fuck, love kissing you.” His delirious voice murmured against your lips. “Remember, honey,” he finished you off with one more peck, “you can’t tell Donna and friends about this. Not about how we got together, okay?” Eddie stroked your face. “They wouldn’t understand, only say mean things about you and me.”

“Okay.” You quietly agreed, wanting to protect your boyfriend from the harsh words Donna would possibly say. How could she pull you away under the guise of protection, when Eddie Munson’s been nothing but sweet to you? What was she seeing that you weren’t? Surely, you always kept your mouth closed, deciding against your sour opinion of Tucker Walsh, who Donna had on-and-off dated for months.

“Yeah, you’ll be a good girl and won’t tell anyone?” He cooed, stroking your face.

“Uh-huh.” You gently beamed, seeing his eyes scan your face with proudness.

“Perfect.” Eddie pecked your nose. “Now, c’mon, sweetie, don’t you wanna show your boyfriend your tits? Always dreamed of seeing ‘em.” Untrustworthy of your awkward movements, you had let Eddie take the reins, simply standing straight to have him, once again, persist the labor of handling you to undress in front of him. His fingers tickled your sides, as they grappled with your shirt to pull it over your head, and spring your tits from the confinements of the tight material. Eddie dramatically sucked in his breath upon sight, mumbling swears because your nipples had hardened from the chill air. “So fucking pretty- fucking beautiful, sweet girl.” He groaned, taking advantage of your topless self, and having a squeeze at your boobs.

“Y-You think I’m beautiful?” You whimpered, loving the beguiling feeling of his callouses scraping your tits, only to pull and pinch at your sensitive nipples.

“So fucking beautiful.” Eddie was quick to answer, placing a kiss to your belly button, which had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, making you swoon over your kind boyfriend. Boyfriend. “Most gorgeous fucking girl I’ve ever seen. Just wanna be with you so bad- always wanted to be with you, sweetheart.”

“You are with me… now.” You giggled, which had him grinning salaciously.

“Yeah, I am, huh?” He hand traveled down to your skirt, playing with the soft fabric. “Got the prettiest girl in school at my hands, I’m so fucking lucky.” He teased his way to the hem of your underwear, teetering between gently pulling them down, only to secure them back in place just to have your squirming with want. “I want you to do somethin’ for me, baby, okay? Just wanna see you out of these cute, little panties, but, honey, turn around and do it.”

Ready to please him, you obliged, turning your backside to him, leaving you to look back and watch him sit back to enjoy the incoming show, as his hand wrapped around his cock and, once again, began his slow strokes. “Like this?”

“Mhm.” He breathily sighed. “Just bend over real deep, princess, so I can see up your skirt, and I wanna- fuck, I wanna see you take off your panties just like that, shit.”

Eddie Munson was a little weird.

But maybe that’s what makes your boyfriend so interesting. Getting to know him will be fun. But for right now, you’d do as he says. The idea of making him happy made your heart flutter with joy, as a little voice in your head spoke to you that Eddie Munson was there to make you happy, as well. Bending forward, your skirt had completely risen, exposing your ass to him and that darkened spot in your panties waving at him as a tempting testament to how horny he was making you feel.

“God, what a fucking ass.” Eddie grunted, spurring his hips to fuck up into his hand. “Go ahead and take those panties off, baby, show me what’s waiting for me.”

Grabbing the lace of your underwear, you tugged down the cotton, fighting the bit of resistance from when Eddie’s fingers buried your panties between the lips of your pussy. But they peeled off, showing him strings of sticky wetness that clung to the gusset and glistened your cunt. Eddie had to immediately stop touching himself, almost shooting his cum out from the sight of your puffed pussy lips squished between your thighs. As your panties teased down your legs, pooling at your ankles, you were startled from the abrupt groping from your boyfriend, feeling him grab handfuls of your cheeks that kept you spread wide, as you stood straight.

“Eddie!” You shrieked into small laughter.

“Oh, my god, you’re gonna fucking kill, baby, fuck, look at you- this ass, look at this fucking wet pussy.” He kneaded the dough of your butt, before placing a stinging spank to watch the fat jiggle from his heavy hand.

“Ow, Eddie!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He was quick to land delicate kisses to the burning area, as the incriminating hand ran over your skin to soothe you. “Just can’t fucking help it.” Securing your hips, Eddie turned you around until your pretty face was smiling down at him, letting his cock twitch with all love and adoration for you.

“What now?” He loved your curiosity. Getting to corrupt your innocent mind into wanting more, until you were his eager slut, begging to shove his cock into all your holes until you were leaking his cum.

“Now,” he smiled, reaching behind him to bring forth your plushie bunny, one tainted with your cum and it had his dick jumping for joy, “you’re gonna show me how you fuck your little bunny, baby.” You swallowed thickly at his request, a twinge of embarrassment coursing through you at the request of showing Eddie something so carnal. But he was your boyfriend. And you could find trust in your boyfriend to make you feel good. “But I also need you to work that little mouth around my cock, honey. Can you do that? Suck it for me?”

You feared disappointing him. “I-I don’t know how. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ll teach you, baby. Just get on your knees for me, yeah?” Last month, Eddie nearly combusted into the crotch area of his jeans watching you suck on a red lollipop during the chaotic minutes of lunch. Safe to say, an entire monologue teasing the meaning behind the potential return of hooded cultists had been ruined in the midst of advertising his upcoming campaign to his eager friends, who embarrassingly had to watch their Dungeon Master choke on his spit, when Eddie found your tongue twirling around the cherry ball of candy, only to suck up the syrupy saliva into you mouth. The head of his cock was no different than that lollipop. You’d do just fine.

Letting your knees rub against your carpeted floor, your hands find perch onto his denim thighs, and you outlined the length of his cock with eyes, wondering how something of that thickness could fit into your mouth. Eddie parted ways with his pants, shuffling out of the rough material, with a metal chain and leather belt clanking along the way, to ensure enough room to have you get off on your stuffed animal.

“Go ahead, baby, start humping your little stuffie for me.” Eddie had meticulously placed your bunny between your legs, watching you for the moment your pussy came in contact with the nub of its nose.

Eddie hissed at the affliction of pain from your nails digging into his hairy thighs, as you became too enlivened by the friction of your clit grinding against your little bunny to account for the provocation you were besetting against him. But Eddie Munson loved it. His immoral mind found arousal in watching you abuse his skin from pleasure, compelling his cock to jerk with profound need.

“Yeah, feel good, princess? Rubbin’ that fucking pussy?” You pathetically nodded, gentle whispers of whimpers leaving your mouth, as you humped your teddy with all conviction. “God, just love usin’ that little bunny as a fuck toy, huh?” He pinched your chin to force your glossy gaze upon him. “Just like I’m gonna use you, right, honey?”

“Mhm, oh my- mm, fuck!” Your tummy clenched, as your hips picked up the momentum to circle the stuffed animal's face, and defile its fur with your wetness.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be my sweet, little bunny?” Eddie’s thumb began pulling at your bottom lip, leaving him cursing as it bounced back to its plumpness. “My sweet, little bunny who’s gonna be my little fuck toy to use whenever?”

“Y-Yes, Eddie… whenever.”

“Fuck, open that pretty fucking mouth for me, and stick out that tongue, baby.” Holding his cock up, Eddie smiled as you obliged so kindly, letting him smack the angry tip of his dick against your tongue, as you finally got a taste of him.

“This w-will make you feel good, mm?” You pondered through mumbles, as you lost yourself in the sensation of pussy buzzing from the burning friction against your clit.

“Yes, baby, fuck, just keep your mouth open.” Eddie’s hand fell heavy upon the top of your head, as he beckoned you to take him deeper, letting his cock to become enveloped in the soft warmth of your mouth. It became no question of whether this would feel good for him, the guttural moan that left his mouth upon intrusion had your hips bucking with fervency.

The viscid coating of his cock with pungent precum made you hum, igniting a series of grunts from your boyfriend, as hissing vibrations exploded in his body. Eddie guided your hands to the base of his cock, encouraging you to massage the leftover that wasn’t occupied by your mouth. “Fuck, yes! Make it messy, baby, just spit all over it!”

Eddie Munson sat back in rhapsody, losing himself in the delirium of having you choke on his cock, as your spit puddled his length, escaping your lips as you suckled on the frenulum of his head. His hair cascaded down, letting his body become too heavy to support as your mouth was bringing him a gratifying high that he never wanted to come down from. Your humps grappled against thumping his thumping veins, enclosing him into a vice grip that had him moaning at your mercy.

“Mm, sh-shit, princess, your—ugh, aaahh—mouth!” He huffed against his restricting lungs. Eddie’s hips began to mimic your bucking, as you moaned at the fizzing rub of your bunny scratching that greedy itch on your clit, allowing him to shove his cock to the gummy constriction of your throat, forcing you to gag on his invasive cock. Sweet spit raining down to his heavy balls, letting his pelvis of bushy pubes become soak with your secretion.

You pulled off with a sore throat, thick strings of spit sticking from his cock to your lips, as your watering eyes scarily gleamed up at him. “Ugh! Y-Your too big- I can’t-”

“Yes, you can, fuck, it’s feels so fucking nice when you choke!” He urged your head back down, now blubbering with a need to finish on your tongue. “J-Just keep fucking yourself, shit! Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Your tongue reached to tickle the underside of his dick, memorizing his stern rigids that had your jaw hurting from breaking open. Eddie sat up to spy down your backside, where he virtually lost it at the sight of your ass cheeks recoiling from the lively movements of your hips humping your stuffy. “Ugh, you gonna cum, sweetheart?” He cupped your face, guiding your languid movements up and down his cock, as you went through the endeavor of nodding to his question. “Fucking cum, baby, cum all over your little bunny!” He demanded.

His heavy hand landed on the back of your head, shoving your face to become suffocated in the unruliness of his pubic hair. Nose inhaling his musk, you sputtered on his cock, gagging at his length prodding at the back of your throat, all to bring Eddie’s long arm down to reach for your ass. A burning sting from a substantial slap had you wailing on his fat cock, “Fucking faster.” He dictated your movements, spurring your hips to drive into the plushy with spanks to your tormented ass. “Cum with me, fuck! M’gonna cum! Cum, baby, cum!”

The bundle of nerves in your pussy began detaching from one another, like a rope inching to snap. Rutting into your stuffed animal, your muffled moans were buzzing his cock, bringing you to the brink of a gushing explosion. Your thrusting became uncoordinated, as your tummy bursted with euphoria, and your release adulterated your white bunny.

Sobbing on his cock, his stomach muscles tightened into an agonizing cramp, as his balls clenched to pump out his seed, flooding your throat with his hot cum. “Ah! Shit, shit, shit—ugh! Fuck me!” Gagging, your hands repeatedly swatted his thick thighs—decorated with the crescents and blistering scratches of your nails—to release you from potentially vomiting on his dick.

His hand relinquished his hold, allowing you to come up for air. Gasping, struggling to find a breath of fresh air, as a concocted mixture of spit and cum dribbled out from your mouth, but you had no hesitation licking your lips to consume the strange taste of his release.

“Holy shit, that was incredible!” Eddie dropped back onto your bed, hands gripping his sweaty curls, as he urged his mind to collect the events that just transpired before him. Chest heaving, teeth gritted, skin moist, this- this is what that Belinda chick was singing about! It wasn’t until a warm head landed on his thighs, that his thoughts jumped to prioritize your wellbeing. In retrospect, the notion of his sticky balls pressing into your temple with his flaccid cock resting upon your forehead shouldn’t have been so idyllic to Eddie Munson, but my god, was his heart constricting at your exhausted state—half-lidded eyes begging for rest, plump lips parted for airy breaths, and your manicured fingers delicately tracing against the hairs of his thigh to soothe the injuries you were beginning to feel remorseful for inflicting.

His hand gently stroking your cheek, garnering your attention, letting you tiredly peer up at his rosy state of pink cheeks and glistening skin. “You okay, princess? Too much? I shouldn’t have gone so rough, I’m sorry, baby. Fuck, just lost myself, you felt so good.”

“It’s okay.” Your saccharine voice assured him. “You’re my boyfriend, you can do anything to me.”

Eddie Munson lovingly smiled at you, as he caressed your hot face. “As long as you want it. Only. Okay?” You nodded with confirmation, and you gazed up at your boyfriend with endearing eyes that had him bubbling with devotion to you. “Such a good girl, did you cum?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I promised to make you feel extra good, didn’t I, baby?” He smirked. “C’mere.” His strength guided you onto your bed, laying you against your cloud-like pillows, before reaching down to grab a hold of your bunny. Soiled with your cum, Eddie’s menacing grin cracked through his face, as he lightly pressed a finger into the wet fur. Your tummy stirred watching his tongue delve into the drenchness, and humming with delight. “Fuck, your pussy taste so good.” He groaned, discarding your stuffy to climb between your thighs.

Steady on his knees over you, he peeled off his ragged shirt, exposing his ivory skin of sharp bumps and squishy softness, ornamented with scary images of permanent ink your parents would surely scowl at if they ever saw. You beamed at him. “You’re so pretty, Eddie.”

His teeth stabbed into his lips, as he teasingly smiled with giddiness. “Thank you, darling. Never as pretty as you, though.”

While wanting the intimacy, you couldn’t help the surge of anxious nerves that brought an onslaught against you, as Eddie began trying to liven his cock with small strokes while eyeing your glistening pussy. “W-Wait, um…” His brows jumped into his bangs, as he awaited your concerns. “No.” You swallowed thickly. “Eddie, I’m not ready for… that.”

He could be Harrison Moran. He could break up with you. He could scoff at your prudeness. But Eddie Munson was simply a perverted man who devoted his longing into the beautiful girl that graced the halls of Hawkins High. He wasn’t Harrison Moran. And you learned that as Eddie stayed silent, merely leaning down to place an electrifying kiss to your lips, pouring out all his adoration for the girl that captivated his dreams every night for the past two years.

“I still wanna keep my word, sweetheart.” He murmured into your kiss. “Can I do something else?”

You meekly looked into his darkwood eyes. “Will it hurt?”

“Not at all, princess.” He eased the scrunch of your worriment brows with a peck to your forehead. “I’d never hurt you.”

With the nod of your head and the words of your mouth, Eddie had your corroboration to do as he please, and his mouth had traveled down the junction of your neck, sucking small love bruises to the column length; to the valley of your breasts, where his lips unclosed your hardened nipples with gentle suckles; and the softness of your bell, decorating your stomach with appreciative kisses that made you feel beautiful to the touch; before his breath became hot over your needy cunt. Sugary kisses of mawkish desire met the plushness of your inner thighs, inching to your swollen pussy lips, irritated and slick from the rawness of rubbing against your bunny.

His long tongue dragged its way to part your cunt, leaving your breath to hitch at the newfound contact of his wet muscle ravishing you. If this is anything close to what he felt when your mouth was on him, surely you could forgive him for the bruised throat you’d have to aid in the following morning. Eddie became brutally gluttonous at the tangy arousal he slurped from your pulsating hole. So small and unused, he’d have a fucking field day when the moment would come he could drill his cock into you virgin pussy.

The tip of tongue burned against your abused clit, agonizingly teasing swirls around the nub just to flick it with fervency, and have you crawling away from the unbearable overstimulation. “E-Eddie!” You stumbled for air. Your foot had planted itself against his hot forehead at an brutish attempt to push his determined mouth away, but Eddie Munson triumphed you in the realms of physical strength, and his arm had pried you open, before securing themselves to ground your squirming thighs.

Latched like a leech, Eddie was becoming feverish from the deliriums of being pussy drunk. Sucking onto your clit, his head shook to abuse you, forcing the muscles in your legs to tighten with trembles. Your scent had engulfed him, as his nose smushed against your clit to snake his tongue into the clenching walls of your velvet pussy. Incoherent words were tumbling into your pussy, entirely unheard from your wrenching moans.

“So fucking good.” He gargled into your cunt, groaning into your pussy, and making out with your entrance. Heaven was a place on Earth, and it was you.

“I-I can’t, Eddie! Too much!” Though, your actions had conflicted with your words, hands buried into his hair, shoving his face to be submerged between your thighs, as your hips gyrated against the dimensions of his pretty face. On the precipice of letting go, your back flew off the surface of your bed, shaky legs lovingly crushing his head, with a moan beyond hotter than the numerous porno films of corny lines and exaggerated screams Eddie consumed just to perfect his skills. “I’m c-cumming- aahh!”

Eddie slurped your remaining juices, tonguing your pussy in search for anymore of your delicious cum that he would relish in. Patting your throbbing clit with a cherishing kiss goodbye, Eddie climbed your limp body, with a mouth and chin laminated with your wetness. One he smashed into your mouth with a smearing kiss against your lips, giving you a taste of the tarte sweetness of your pussy.

“You’re such a good boyfriend.” You breathily giggled against his mouth, leaving him chuckling at your inebriated-like state. “Best one I’ve had.”

“I’m the only one you’ve ever had.” He laughed, as he guided you to rest on the thumping beat of his full heart.

“So?” You smiled. “Donna’s always complaining about Tucker, and you’re nothing like him. I could never complain about you.” You were making him melt into a puddle of mush, as your words erupted in his tummy. He smiled down, kissing your hairline, before nudging you to grab a hold of your lips to his. “Mm, you smell good.” You hummed with delight.

Eddie guffawed. “Princess, that’s your pussy on my face.” He bumped your scrunching nose with a tender finger. “I probably smell like sex, sweat, and cigarettes, sweetheart.”

“But it’s you. I like you, Eddie.” Your round eyes peered up at him, and he held your contact.

“Yeah?” He whispered. Insecurity was swirling within him. Surely you were just babbling from the orgasm gifted upon you from him. Eddie Munson was Eddie Munson. You were fucking you. His vulgar behavior and profligate mind was undeserving of a girlfriend like-

“I’ve liked you for a while.” You smiled with closed eyes. Relishing. The bombshell of the revelation had his bursting with cinching brows of astonishment. “Remember, two years ago, we had art class together?” Remember? It was the day Eddie Munson first laid his eyes on you, of course, he remembers! Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t s- “I saw you, and you were just so cute doodling in your sketchbook. These scary monsters, and stuff. But they were good. I always wanted to compliment you on it, but I never got the courage. Just stuck to having a crush on you.” You delicately giggled.

Eddie Munson could have been fucking you for the past two years?!

You were quick to hum into a light slumber. Eddie was stupefied at the actual idiocy he was currently metaphorically forehead-slapping himself for. That was until your sudden jolt had him jumping with concern.

“Oh, my god! Eddie, we completely forgot to go over the promotion of democracy and isolationism coming into the late 1800s!” You heaved.

He cooed. “Oh, sweetheart…”

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @sierrahhh

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