#with brown curls and a leather jacket and all!
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There isn’t enough IWTV and SPN crossover content!!!
They’re literally sitting across the bar from each other.
Daniel: So what do you do?
Dean: I’m a hunter.
Daniel: Cool cool, last time i came here a vampire tried to eat me, or maybe fuck me, i’m still not sure.
#yes i know the timelines don’t add up but spn has timetravel#so maybe Dean was on a little misadventure in the seventies looking for dad but wound up meeting a different (future) deadbeat dad#with brown curls and a leather jacket and all!#iwtv#daniel molloy#spn#supernatural#dean winchester#interview with the vampire
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ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)
ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.
Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.
He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.
You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.
The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).
“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”
Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.
“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”
“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”
“No?”
“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”
“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.
You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”
“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.
You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.
“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”
“You’re not dumb, Eds.”
“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”
You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.
He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”
“I’ll die,” you deadpan.
“You’re so dramatic.”
His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck.
That’s where he lingers.
Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there.
He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.
His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.
“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.
Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.
“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”
You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed.
You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”
He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.
Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”
“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”
“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”
He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”
The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”
“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”
“But not all the time, though, right?”
“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”
“Sure…”
Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”
You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.
Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”
Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.
“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.
“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”
He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now.
Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.
The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.
“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.
Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”
His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”
Again, you nod.
“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”
“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.
Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”
“So… on you?”
“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.
“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.
He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”
You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.
Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”
“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”
His smile widens. “Exactly.”
“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”
Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy.
“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.
You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”
“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.
“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”
“Oh, fuck…”
You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.
“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.
Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things smut#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: fictober!
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have sum steddie! maybe modern!au, no upside down!au & a meet cute <3 | ao3
Steve sits in the booth, his foot tapping away mindlessly under the table, with half a mind to abandon the table entirely.
In fact, the only reason he hadn’t yet was because of the $20 he was hanging out for at the end. And the bragging rights, of course.
Robin had set him up on this blind date, plied him with all the promises in the world that he would enjoy it — said she’d spent a decent amount of time hunting for the right first gay date for Steve.
She also conceded that if he, for whatever reason, didn’t enjoy it, she would cough up 20 whole bucks for his wasted time. But he had to actually see the date through for the prize to be claimed.
And the bragging rights were so that Robin — with her uppity, healthy, and happy relationship that Steve was only a little bit envious of — could ease onto the breaks when it came to Steve’s love life.
So it was looking a little bleak at the moment, so what? Every stallion or… lion or whatever had their moments, right? Moments where their mane is a little uncouth and food is low and…. Where was he going with this?
The point was, that Robin got into one relationship and suddenly decided she was fit to become a high and mighty matchmaker. Never mind that Steve had reminded her numerous times that he had dated a lot more than she had.
So, for 20 bucks and the right to stick his tongue out at his best friend when she tried to meddle, Steve could stick one night out.
Besides, she was right about one thing. They weren’t in Hawkins anymore — and San Francisco had a hell of a larger dating pool than his hometown.
Still, that didn’t make people anymore for prompt for dates though, apparently. Steve’s foot taps incessantly under the table, his knee bouncing up and down in his nerves. He runs a hand through his hair and checks his watch again.
7 o’clock, Harvey’s Diner, a cute little Italian place that Steve had begun to frequent since they moved to the city, and a date with a dude called Daniel whom Steve had no idea what he looked like.
This was his Friday night plans.
His watch reads 7:12pm and Steve sighs, his fingers beginning to fiddle with the strap of his watch just for something to do. Great. He had gotten all dressed up for this? To be stood up? How was this any better than his usual Friday night plans that Robin claimed were so pathe—
“Hi.”
Someone sits down in the booth across from Steve, landing with a thump loud enough to give him a fright.
Steve’s head whips up from its focus on fiddling with his watch and— woah. Steve blinks once, twice, and feels his jaw unhinge a little, his lips parting an inch as he gazes at the stranger across from him.
Holy shit, this dude was hot.
He’s got curls for days, dark chocolate ringlets all messy and unkept spilling over his shoulders— long and probably perfect for burying your hands into. Steve flushes a little at the unexpected thought.
He has beautiful brown eyes, widened with a smudge of eyeliner and framed with long lashes. Steve thinks he can spy a smattering of freckles across his forehead. His nose is long and his lips are plush and pink and holy shit, this dude was pretty.
“Oh— hi.” Steve manages to remember his manners. Only after he fully checked this dude out, of course.
God, couldn’t Robin have given him a better warning than just ‘he’s probably your type’? Couldn’t she have warned him that this dude was ‘do-a-double-take-on-the-street type hot?’ What the fuck Robin?
The man across from him grins, wicked and alluring all at once, and shucks off his heavy leather jacket. His eyes do a once-over on Steve, taking his time to check him out— which is great because Steve is stuck on all the glorious tattoos that have just been revealed. So much skin shown in his roughly chopped muscle-tee, swirling ink all down his arms. This dude is hot.
Silently, Steve curses Robin and the 20 dollars that is totally slipping away from him. Why did she have to be right all the time?
“Been waiting long?” The man, Daniel, asks as he makes himself comfortable across the table. He pushes his hair back with both hands, using one hand to gather it into a ponytail, holding it up to air out his neck and Steve now realises he is slightly puffed.
He must’ve run part of the way here, to avoid being later than he was. Steve can’t help but be slightly endeared by that fact.
The man grins again, “Promise I was trying to be on time but, you know how the subway is.”
Steve huffs out a laugh, any annoyance at being kept waiting melting away at his date’s sincerity.
“Not too long,” Steve admits, smiling to ease Daniel’s apparent concern. Across the table, Daniel slumps a little and releases his hair, his curls pooling back around his shoulders. Steve watches, entranced.
“Well, that’s good,” Daniel smiles, eyes bright like he really means it, and his hand darts out to steal the drinks menu from the edge of the table. He looks back over to Steve, a furrow in his brows. “You didn’t order anything?”
“I thought I should wait,” Steve says with a shrug. No point paying for food if your date never shows up.
Daniel looks up from the menu through his lashes and smiles, placing his elbow on the table and dropping his chin in the palm of his hand. “Aw, you’re sweet.”
Steve is a little embarrassed by how easily the compliment makes him blush, feeling his cheeks glow lightly. Across the table, Daniel seems to revel in it, drinking in the way Steve’s face filled with colour with a cheeky smile. His eyes flick back down to the menu.
“You know,” Daniel begins, keeping his eyes on the menu, scanning it with a hum. “Chrissy said you were good looking but I think she seriously undersold you.”
He takes his eyes off the menu to trail up Steve’s body, his gaze heavy. Steve feels a delighted zing go up his spine, feels the way he preens at Daniel’s attraction. Steve opens his mouth to respond, more than ready to return the flirt when—
“Can I get you two started with anything?”
The waitress interrupts. She’s poised with her notepad, standing at the edge of the booth. Daniel perks up and nods.
“Can I get a chocolate milkshake please?” He asks with a polite smile. Steve laughs lightly at his selection and Daniel’s gaze cuts from the waitress to Steve.
“What? Not a milkshake man?”
Steve tries to contain his grin, all too endeared by the man before him. He shakes his head and raises his hand in defense. “Nothing against milkshakes just… for dinner?”
Daniel gasps theatrically and his head snaps back to the waitress. “This man has never had the delight of a Harvey’s milkshake with his dinner. Please bring us two chocolate milkshakes!”
Steve watches as the waitress dutifully writes down the order and turns on her heel, heading for the kitchen. He turns back to his date and gapes, taken aback by the forwardness.
“Did you just order for me?”
“Did you just diss milkshakes?”
Steve scoffs, but even then he can’t stop his lips from curling up into a smile. He can’t believe it but he’s genuinely glad he waited this date out. It's not at all like he was expecting. Even Robin's short description of this dude pales in comparison to the real thing. Steve nudges his foot forward into Daniel’s shin lightly.
“I did not diss milkshakes,” Steve argues, his smile widening at how Daniel’s eyes dart to the table before back up at Steve with a grin.
“Uh huh,” Daniel nods, his voice sarcastic and 100% unbelieving of Steve’s insistence. “Just wait, okay? You’ll be changing your tune soon enough. Harvey’s milkshakes are class. I’ve had a thousand of my best ideas in here, sipping on a chocolate milkshake.”
Steve grins and leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Under the table, he feels Daniel’s boot nudge against his leg gently— and he laughs to himself. This has gotta be the most teenage way of flirting and he’s fucking loving it.
“You know,” Steve begins hesitantly, letting his forearms lean up against the table. “You’re not quite what I expected, Daniel.”
Across the table, Daniel scrunches up his face, his expression one of pure befuddlement. He puts his hands flat on the table and leans forward.
“Wait, you think my name is Daniel?”
Steve splutters for a moment because even though the answer is duh, yes, it’s become increasingly apparent that the man across from him is not who he was expecting. But if he’s not Daniel, who is he?
Suddenly, the door chimes and someone else is entering the diner. It’s a man dressed like Steve — on the preppy side with hair that must’ve taken at least an hour. He scans the booth and spots Steve’s booth, wandering over, his eyes fixed on the man across from Steve.
“Hey, are you Eddie?” He asks confidently, ignoring Steve’s presence on the other side of the booth.
The man — Eddie — freezes as he glances up at the newcomer and then back down to Steve ahead of him. Steve deflates a little inside as he realises abruptly what’s happened— a mix-up of wrong dates that was completely warranted because this dude dresses exactly like Steve. Steve doesn't stare too long to see if he's any hotter.
Instead, he tries to give Eddie the all-clear with his eyes. He smiles polite as he can and gives a little nod to let him know it was alright to abandon him for the date he was supposed to go on. Not to get stuck with Steve.
Eddie clears his throat and smiles, not cheeky like he had with Steve, but stiff and polite. “Ah sorry man, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. My name's Daniel.”
Huh? Steve takes his eyes off the table to steal a glimpse at Eddie (is his name even Eddie?) and something inside him burns hotly when the man glances across at Steve and winks.
The man standing by the booth wavers for a moment, glancing between them in the booth as Steve schools his expression to neutral. After a moment of silence, there's a half-assed apology as the man retreats, heading back out the door he had just come through. The door chimes again on his way out.
Steve straightens up and peers over his shoulder, watching the door slowly swing shut. He turns back to the man across the booth and squints at him. The waitress returns briefly, dropping two large chocolate shakes onto the table, topped with a mountain of cream. She murmurs something about coming back to take their order in a moment.
"Wait, so who are you?" Steve asks, gently sliding his shake closer to him. "Daniel or Eddie?"
His date —well, his new date— has already begun taking a big long sip from his own milkshake, so enamored with it that when he pulls away there's a dot of cream on the end of his nose. He swallows with a satisfied ah and grins across the table at Steve, not noticing the dairy on his face.
"I'm whoever gets me talking with you a little bit longer."
Steve grins, an endeared roll of his eye at the blatant flirting but he can't deny how it makes his chest warm. He grabs one of the napkins and reaches forward, adoring how Eddie goes cross-eyed as he watches Steve smudge away the cream on his nose. He laughs sheepishly, giving his nose a little wipe with his own hand.
"I'm Eddie." He says, finally introducing himself. He doesn't offer his hand, just gives Steve a little nudge under the table and a grin over his milkshake. "And I think you just saved me from a terrible date."
Steve laughs, giving a little shake of his head. He finally goes in for a sip of his own milkshake— and it's just as heavenly as Eddie had promised, glorious chocolate dancing over his taste buds.
Steve groans quietly, eyes bright when he glances at the other man over his glass, entirely amused by how wide-eyed Eddie has become. He releases the straw and sits back, more invested in this date than he has been in... years. Stallion's got its mojo back. Or lion. Whatever.
"I'm Steve," He responds, giving a little nudge back under the table and a grin of his own. "And I think you saved me from being stood up."
#what..... is this????#i haven't really written modern au for them#and i wrote it in about 2 hours so hopefully its like. not terrible#wahoo !#i luv a little meet cute#meet cute#steddie#ruby writes steddie#steve x eddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie blurb#ummmm i haven't posted in literal eons ive forgotten all my tags oh well#enjoy ?
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Bat-Family x Fem!OC
You smacks their ass as they walk past
Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (aged up), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle & Kate Kane
Jason Todd aka. Red Hood
- You never imagined how someone like Jason Todd could hold himself with such a dangerous blend of confidence and recklessness. He walks like he owns every inch of ground he treads, his leather jacket slung over his shoulders, the red of his helmet tucked under his arm. You don’t know what possesses you when you walk past him, catching a glimpse of his lean frame and the cocky smirk tugging at his lips. Maybe it’s the sheer magnetism he exudes, or maybe you just can’t help yourself. Your hand reaches out, and you deliver a sharp, playful smack to his rear as you stride by.
- Jason freezes mid-step, his body going rigid for a split second before he turns to face you, an incredulous look spreading across his face. “Did you just—” he begins, his voice caught somewhere between outrage and amusement. But then that signature smirk of his grows wider, sharper, and his blue eyes gleam with a dangerous, playful edge. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that,” he teases, advancing toward you with a slow, deliberate menace that’s all bark and no real bite. You laugh, the sound light and carefree, because you know Jason’s ire is more for show than anything else.
- He catches you around the waist, pulling you into his arms with ease, the leather of his jacket brushing against your skin. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing as his lips ghost over your ear. “But you’re not getting away with it.” There’s an edge of fondness in his tone, a warmth that softens his usual bravado. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, may wear his scars like armor, but when he’s with you, he’s softer, more human. You bring out a side of him that no one else gets to see, and he revels in the feeling of being seen by you, flaws and all.
- Later, as you sit curled up on the couch together, his hand resting casually on your thigh, he leans over and murmurs, “Next time, warn me before you do something like that. I might just enjoy it a little too much.” He grins at your surprised expression, his laughter rich and unrestrained. Jason Todd is a man of contradictions—gritty and rough around the edges, yet tender and fiercely loyal to those he loves. And in that moment, as he looks at you like you hung the moon, you know you’ll always be the exception to his every rule.
Dick Grayson aka. Nightwing
- It’s hard not to admire Dick Grayson as he moves with a fluid grace that’s almost otherworldly, every step a testament to his years as an acrobat. He’s the kind of man who lights up a room without even trying, his smile warm enough to melt the iciest of hearts. As he passes by you, his toned physique impossible to ignore, you act on a mischievous whim. Your hand darts out, delivering a quick slap to his behind, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet space.
- Dick stops in his tracks, his back straightening as he turns to face you, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “Did you really just do that?” he asks, his tone playful as he raises an eyebrow at you. But the corners of his lips are already twitching upward, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. “You know I have a reputation to maintain, right? What if someone saw?” His words are teasing, but there’s no mistaking the delight in his voice.
- He crosses the room in a few quick strides, pulling you into his arms with that effortless charm of his. “You’re lucky you’re adorable,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His hands settle on your hips, his touch warm and grounding as he looks at you with a fondness that makes your heart skip a beat. Dick Grayson has always been a people person, someone who gives his all to everyone he meets, but with you, it’s different. With you, he lets his guard down completely, his love unfiltered and true.
- Later, as the two of you sit on the rooftop, the city sprawled out before you, he leans back on his hands and chuckles. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” he says, glancing over at you with a grin that’s equal parts exasperated and enamored. “But I love it. I love you.” In that moment, with the stars above and his hand brushing against yours, you realize that Dick’s love is the kind that makes you feel like you’re flying, weightless and free.
Tim Drake aka. Red Robin
- Tim Drake has always been the picture of focus and determination, his mind a labyrinth of strategies and contingencies. He’s the kind of man who gets lost in his work, his attention consumed by the mysteries he seeks to unravel. But as he walks past you, his nose buried in a tablet, you decide to do something to pull him out of his reverie. With a playful grin, you reach out and smack his rear, the sound sharp and unmistakable.
- Tim freezes, his eyes widening as he processes what just happened. Slowly, he turns to face you, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Did you just…?” he begins, his voice faltering as he searches for the right words. He’s flustered, his usual composure slipping as he stares at you, half-amused and half-embarrassed. “I didn’t see that coming,” he admits, a small, awkward laugh escaping him. For someone so perceptive, you’ve managed to catch him completely off-guard.
- He sets his tablet down, his curiosity piqued as he steps closer to you. “Care to explain yourself?” he asks, his tone light and teasing as he folds his arms across his chest. But there’s a softness in his eyes, a quiet affection that belies his playful demeanor. Tim isn’t one to let his guard down easily, but with you, he doesn’t have to try. You bring a sense of ease to his life, a warmth that balances out the weight of his responsibilities.
- Later, as he sits beside you on the couch, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, he glances at you and smiles. “You’re something else, you know that?” he says, his voice filled with admiration. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tim Drake may be the genius detective, always one step ahead of everyone else, but with you, he’s just Tim—a man who’s hopelessly in love with the person who keeps him on his toes.
Damian Wayne aka. Robin (Aged up)
- Damian Wayne walks with the confidence of someone who’s spent his entire life being told he’s destined for greatness. There’s a regal air about him, a sharpness in his gaze that makes people think twice before crossing him. But as he passes by you, his posture impeccable and his expression carefully composed, you decide to test the waters of his stoic exterior. Your hand darts out, delivering a swift smack to his rear.
- He stops abruptly, his head snapping around to look at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Did you just…” he starts, his voice laced with both outrage and confusion. For a moment, he seems utterly at a loss, his usual composure shattered by your unexpected audacity. But then his lips press into a thin line, and he narrows his eyes at you. “You’re insufferable,” he declares, though the faint pink tinting his cheeks betrays his embarrassment.
- Damian steps closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest as he fixes you with a glare that’s more bluster than anything else. “Do you think this is some kind of joke?” he demands, his tone sharp. But there’s a flicker of something softer in his eyes, a warmth that he can’t quite hide. Damian may be the heir to the League of Assassins, but with you, he’s just a young man learning how to navigate the complexities of love and vulnerability.
- Later, as the two of you spar in the training room, he catches your wrist mid-strike, his grip firm but gentle. “You’re infuriating,” he says, his voice low and almost fond. “But I suppose I wouldn’t have you any other way.” Damian Wayne may be a warrior at heart, but when he’s with you, he allows himself to be just Damian—a boy who’s discovering that love is the greatest strength of all.
Barbara Gordon aka. Oracle / Batgirl
- Barbara Gordon is a force to be reckoned with, her mind as sharp as her combat skills. She moves with a quiet confidence, her every action deliberate and precise. As she walks past you, her auburn hair catching the light, you feel a sudden surge of mischief. Before you can think twice, your hand reaches out, delivering a playful smack to her rear.
- She stops mid-stride, her head tilting to the side as she turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Really?” she says, her tone dripping with amusement. There’s a playful glint in her green eyes, and you can tell she’s already plotting her revenge. Barbara is nothing if not quick on her feet, and you know she won’t let you off the hook easily. “You realize you’ve just declared war, right?” she teases, a sly smile spreading across her face.
- Barbara steps closer, her hands resting on her hips as she looks you up and down, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to play innocent. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” she says, her voice warm and affectionate despite her mock-annoyance. With you, she allows herself to be vulnerable, to let go of the weight of being both Oracle and Batgirl. You remind her that it’s okay to laugh, to let her guard down, and to simply be herself.
- Later, as the two of you sit in front of her computer, the glow of the screens casting a soft light over her features, she leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re impossible,” she murmurs, her voice filled with affection. “But you keep things interesting.” Barbara Gordon may be a genius, a fighter, and a hero, but with you, she’s just Barbara—a woman who’s found someone who makes her feel alive in a way she never thought possible.
Stephanie Brown aka. Spoiler
- Stephanie Brown has always been a whirlwind of energy and determination, her spirit unrelenting even in the face of impossible odds. She walks past you with that carefree confidence she wears like armor, her blonde hair bouncing with every step. You can’t help but admire the way she carries herself, equal parts stubborn and radiant. Acting on impulse, you reach out and give her a playful smack on the rear as she strides by.
- She stops dead in her tracks, her head whipping around to face you. “Excuse me?” she exclaims, her voice full of mock indignation, though the corners of her lips are already curling into a mischievous smile. “Did you just Spank the Spoiler?” she asks, emphasizing her vigilante codename with a dramatic flair. Stephanie has never been one to take herself too seriously, and you can see the spark of amusement in her bright eyes as she folds her arms, pretending to be offended.
- In a flash, she’s back at your side, poking you in the ribs as she laughs. “Oh, you’re so in trouble now,” she teases, her voice light and full of affection. There’s something infectious about her laughter, a sound that seems to chase away the shadows in your life. Stephanie Brown is a fighter, yes, but she’s also someone who finds joy even in the smallest, silliest moments. She loves fiercely, and her heart is as big as her grin.
- Later, as you both sit on the couch sharing popcorn and bad movies, she nudges your shoulder and gives you a cheeky grin. “Next time, maybe warn me,” she says, her tone teasing. “Or don’t. I kind of like being caught off guard.” Stephanie leans against you, her warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket. With her, life is always an adventure—messy, unpredictable, and full of laughter.
Cassandra Cain aka. Orphan
- Cassandra Cain moves like a shadow, her every step silent and purposeful. She walks past you with a grace that’s almost hypnotic, her petite frame radiating a quiet strength. You’ve always admired her discipline, her ability to say so much without uttering a single word. But today, you decide to shake up her composure. As she walks by, you reach out and deliver a playful smack to her rear, the sound breaking the otherwise tranquil air.
- Cassandra stops, her body going still as a statue. Slowly, she turns her head to look at you, her dark eyes wide with surprise. She blinks, clearly unsure of how to process what just happened. Then, to your delight, the faintest smile tugs at the corners of her lips—a rare and precious expression that feels like a reward in itself. “Why?” she asks simply, her voice soft but curious. It’s not anger or embarrassment, just genuine intrigue.
- You shrug, offering her a cheeky grin. “Because I couldn’t resist,” you reply, watching as her smile grows just a little wider. Cassandra doesn’t say much, but the way she steps closer, her hand brushing yours, says everything. She’s always been more comfortable expressing herself through action, and with you, she doesn’t need words to show her affection. Her trust in you is absolute, her love quiet but deeply felt.
- Later, as you sit together on the floor, her head resting on your shoulder while you read, she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “You surprise me,” she says softly, her voice filled with warmth. “It’s good.” Cassandra Cain may be the most skilled fighter you’ve ever met, but in your arms, she’s just Cass—a woman who’s learning to embrace the lighter, softer side of life.
Duke Thomas aka. Signal
- Duke Thomas strides through life with an easy confidence, his optimism shining as brightly as the sunlight he manipulates. He walks past you with a casual swagger, his golden-brown eyes warm and inviting. As he passes by, you can’t help but admire the way he carries himself—steady, resilient, and undeniably charming. Acting on a whim, you reach out and smack his rear, the playful gesture a stark contrast to his calm demeanor.
- Duke pauses, his head turning as a look of amused disbelief spreads across his face. “Really?” he says, raising an eyebrow as a slow grin tugs at his lips. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.��� There’s no annoyance in his tone, just pure, unfiltered amusement. Duke has always been good at rolling with life’s surprises, and this one is no exception. He steps closer to you, crossing his arms and tilting his head. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”
- You laugh, and the sound makes his grin widen. Duke’s hand rests lightly on your hip as he leans in, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur. “You know, you’re going to pay for that, right?” he teases, his tone laced with affection. With you, Duke’s natural warmth grows even brighter, his easygoing nature making every moment with him feel effortless and fun. He’s the kind of man who makes you feel like the center of his world without even trying.
- Later, as the two of you watch the sunset from the rooftop, he nudges you gently with his shoulder. “You’re something else, you know that?” he says, his tone soft and sincere. “But I wouldn’t change a thing.” Duke Thomas is a beacon of light in a world full of shadows, and with you by his side, his glow only grows stronger.
Selina Kyle aka. Catwoman
- Selina Kyle is the embodiment of elegance and mischief, her every move a calculated blend of grace and seduction. She walks past you with the confidence of a queen, her hips swaying in a way that’s almost hypnotic. You can’t resist the temptation she so effortlessly exudes, and before you can think better of it, your hand darts out to smack her rear as she passes by.
- She stops, one perfectly manicured hand resting on her hip as she turns to face you, a single eyebrow arched. “Oh, darling,” she purrs, her voice smooth as silk, “you’re playing a dangerous game.” There’s no anger in her tone, only amusement, her green eyes gleaming with a predatory kind of delight. Selina loves a good challenge, and you’ve just given her the perfect excuse to turn the tables.
- She closes the distance between you in a few fluid steps, her fingers trailing lightly along your jaw as she tilts your face up to meet her gaze. “Careful,” she whispers, her lips curving into a sly smile. “I might just decide to return the favor.” Selina Kyle is a master of control, but with you, she’s willing to let go of the reins—just a little. She loves the way you keep her on her toes, the way you’re unafraid to meet her at her level.
- Later, as the two of you lounge on the balcony, the city lights twinkling below, she leans against you, her head resting on your shoulder. “You’re lucky I like you,” she says with a soft laugh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. Selina Kyle may be the infamous Catwoman, a thief who’s always one step ahead, but with you, she’s just Selina—a woman who’s found someone who can keep up with her.
Kate Kane aka. Batwoman
- Kate Kane walks with the authority of someone who’s seen it all and refuses to back down. Her stride is purposeful, her crimson hair a striking contrast against the stark black of her attire. As she passes by, her no-nonsense demeanor is enough to make most people think twice about approaching her. But not you. With a playful grin, you reach out and smack her rear, the sound sharp and deliberate.
- She stops in her tracks, her head turning slowly as she fixes you with a piercing gaze. “Really?” she asks, her tone dry but laced with amusement. “That’s how you want to play this?” There’s no real annoyance in her voice, just a hint of disbelief mixed with a begrudging smile. Kate Kane doesn’t do surprises often, but you’ve managed to catch her off guard in the best way possible.
- She steps closer, her arms crossed as she looks you up and down, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to play innocent. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that,” she says, her voice low and teasing. But there’s a warmth in her eyes, a softness she reserves only for you. Kate may be tough as nails, but with you, she allows herself to be vulnerable, to let down the walls she’s spent years building.
- Later, as the two of you sit by the fire with glasses of whiskey in hand, she leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re impossible,” she mutters, though there’s no mistaking the affection in her voice. Kate Kane may be Batwoman, a hero who stands alone in the darkest of nights, but with you, she’s just Kate—a woman who’s found a love worth fighting for.
#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader#barbara gordon x reader#batgirl x reader#oracle x reader#stephanie brown x reader#cassandra cain x reader#duke thomas x reader#selina kyle x reader#catwoman x reader#kate kane x reader#batwoman x reader#batfam#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#dc x reader#dc comics x reader#dc comics imagines#dc comics headcanons#dc imagine#dc headcanon#dc#dc comics#x reader
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Just something I’m still toying with in my head. Will continue a little later probably
Punk!Ghost x Nerd!Reader
Warnings: violence, bullying, mention of abuse, pretty vague but still a tad heavy overall
Unsweetened lemonade (part 1)
Part 2 || Part 3
Ghost who is all spikes and cigarette smoke and dark circles under deep seated brown eyes. Always so gloomy, always alone, always biting the hand outstretched to him.
In his world outstretched hand means beating. In his world outstretched hand is one fucking omen and he prefers to stay away from it.
People can’t hurt you if they can’t touch you. If you won’t let them.
Ghost never does. He’ll be dead before he lets anyone up close. He’ll be dead before anyone touches him ever again (the voice in his head snarls, the voice in his head a wounded dog, the voice in his head a rabid animal — always fighting, always choking, always clawing uphill).
Ghost is all long limbs and sharp angles, growing too fast, eating too much in a house where it’s never enough for everyone to go around. Simon sucks it up because he’s the oldest, because he can go hungry, it’s no big deal — he’s used to it.
The hunger and void of loneliness sucks open a bleeding pit inside of him and he pushes his face harder into the pillow, choking back weakness.
Tears are weakness. Craving love is weakness. Feeling alone and cold and hungry and wanting his mom to kiss him before bed is weakness.
Weak people don’t survive what he survives. He’s not weak, never weak.
Ghost frankly doesn’t understand you — with your nose always in a book, headphones always in your ears, eyes always a little too distant. He doesn’t understand the quiet resignation that he sees on your face when someone gives your hair a sharp tug or throws mean, disgusting things — words coming out like damn filth, his knuckles whiten and it’s not even aimed at him.
Ghost doesn’t understand why you don’t fight. You don’t understand why he always does.
Fighting never makes it better, fighting means prolonging suffering. Fighting means anger, means screaming, means angry hot tears and red face and pain-pain-pain because it’s not fair, it’s never fair and it shouldn’t be like that.
You force it all back down before it threatens to spill out of you, bubbling and acidic.
Ghost’s lips curl in something very akin to snarl and you glare back. He’s all long limbs and sharp angles and heavy boots and old creaking leather jacket that he wears through all winter. Even when it’s so cold his lips turn blue.
Even when he’s shivering. Ghost still holds his head high, shoulders tense and square — always ready for a fight. Always ready to beat into the ground anyone who tries to beat him.
Never again, never again, never again
You stay silent, headphones already in your ears, but you still watch the broad space of his back. He’s lanky, he’s disproportionate and too big-too long-too much.
You wouldn’t call him pretty at all, his jawline too heavy and out, his eyes deep seated and harsh, his nose big — nose bridge crooked, sharp lines of his cheekbones look like you would cut yourself if you touched.
Ghost looks right back at you, but for some reason doesn’t snarl this time. Maybe he’s just tired, maybe it’s too cold to waist energy on someone like you but his lips are blue and he’s shivering and suddenly you can feel pulling your scarf off.
It’s a mad idea, it’s the worst thing your mind could come up with because everyone knows that Simon “Ghost” Riley is aggressive cunt with chip on his shoulder.
But you know all too well how it feels to stand outside — alone and cold, shivering because people that were supposed to protect you and warm you up — didn’t.
So you pull your scarf off and thrust it in his hands before practically running away, because everyone knows that Simon “Ghost” Riley is aggressive cunt with chip on his shoulder. And you don’t want to be caught in his fire.
You have it enough already as it is.
Simon watches you scramble away, scarf warm and soft in his hands and he wants to snarl again, wants to chase you, wants to ask what the fuck do you think you are doing. But you are already gone.
And he’s cold and he’s alone and he’s tired. Maybe that’s why he tentatively wraps warm fuzzy scarf around his neck and head, nose nuzzling in it immediately.
It feels so good he almost hates you in the moment.
It feels so good Simon feels like crying all over again.
#call of duty#cod mw2#girl.snippets#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley
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TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions
Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.
You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.
Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.
He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.
There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.
The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."
And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.
"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.
The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.
The world around him falls away at the touch.
---
He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.
---
They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--
He wants to kiss Eddie.
So, he does.
It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.
---
Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.
He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.
She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.
He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.
Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.
---
He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.
He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.
"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"
He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.
"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."
Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.
"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."
"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.
His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.
Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--
"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"
Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.
---
He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.
A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.
He's pretty sure he has a concussion.
"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.
Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.
"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"
Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.
---
They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.
Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.
They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.
He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.
In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.
---
He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.
"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"
Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.
They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.
"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.
"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.
---
Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--
"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."
Eddie stays limp in his arms.
"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."
The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.
"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.
"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."
Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."
He goes still in Steve's hold.
---
The images come faster now--
A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence
Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there
Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize
Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him
Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face
In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head
In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect
---
The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.
Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.
Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.
"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"
Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.
The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#soulmate au#fluff#angst#angst with a happy ending#childhood sweethearts#canon divergent au#everyone lives/nobody dies#glimpses of the future#getting together#break up#getting back together#first kiss#brief stancy#platonic stobin
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Wrapped in Him
Synopsis: After a long day of work, Logan returns to the cabin expecting the usual quiet, but instead, he finds you fast asleep in his leather jacket. The sight—and the way you’ve wrapped yourself in his scent—stirs something warm and tender in him. As he watches you nestled in the firelight, Logan is reminded of the quiet, unexpected comfort of having someone who feels like home.
Warnings: None, just pure fluff! Hope you enjoy kits <3 Also this is Lumberjack! Logan
The cabin was steeped in a cozy hush when Logan walked through the door, boots scuffing against the wooden threshold. Outside, the wind howled faintly through the pines, but inside, the crackle of the fire and the faint aroma of woodsmoke wrapped the space in warmth.
He kicked off his boots, rolling his shoulders to ease the day’s work from his muscles. The scent of the forest clung to his flannel shirt—pine sap, freshly split logs, and the ever-present, faint tang of cigars lingering in his jacket. Except, his jacket wasn’t hanging by the door where he’d left it.
Logan frowned, scanning the room, and then he spotted it. There it was, draped over your small frame as you curled up in the oversized armchair near the fire.
His frown melted into something softer.
You were fast asleep, your legs tucked beneath you and his heavy leather jacket cocooned around your shoulders. The rich brown leather swallowed you whole, the sleeves falling limp past your hands. One sleeve hung over the arm of the chair like an afterthought, while the other was pulled snug around your body.
He stepped closer, careful to keep his heavy footsteps quiet on the wooden floor. As he approached, the mix of scents became undeniable: the worn leather of his jacket mingled with the smoky remnants of his favorite cigars, all blending into something entirely him. The way you clutched the collar close to your face, your fingers resting there as though it brought you comfort, made something warm settle deep in his chest.
Logan crouched beside you, his knees groaning slightly from the long day’s work. Gently, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, his calloused fingers light against your skin. The firelight painted your features in golden hues, soft and serene, your lips parted slightly in sleep.
You stirred under his touch, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out, and shifted deeper into the chair, burying your nose into the jacket’s collar. A faint smile pulled at your lips as you sighed, clearly content.
“Damn thief,” Logan muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, though there was no trace of irritation—just warmth and a trace of amusement.
Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to breathe in the faint scent of your shampoo beneath the leather and smoke. It was grounding, soothing in a way he’d never admit out loud.
When he pulled back, he took a moment to simply watch you, his sharp eyes softening as the firelight flickered across your peaceful expression. The way you’d stolen his jacket—without so much as a word—was such a small thing, but it hit him harder than he’d ever expect. You didn’t just wear his jacket. You wore him, and you looked so at home in it that the thought made his heart ache in the best way.
Shaking his head, Logan grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it carefully over you, tucking it in where the jacket didn’t quite cover.
“You’re lucky it looks better on you,” he whispered, his lips twitching into a quiet smile.
Straightening, he ran a hand through his thick hair, his fingers lingering on the back of his neck as he turned toward the kitchen. He still smelled faintly of pine and cigars, but now, there was something sweeter in the air.
Tomorrow, he’d tease you about it, maybe pull the jacket off your shoulders just to watch you fuss and steal it right back. But tonight, he’d let you keep it. After all, it suited you.
And so did being his.
#x men#female writers#x men 97#x men fanfiction#writing#x men movies#callme_bunni#x men comics#wolverine fluff#the wolverine#wolverine#wolverine fanfiction#deadpool wolverine#wolverine imagine#wolverine x reader#x men wolverine#logan wolverine#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett x reader#james logan howlett#james howlett#worst wolverine
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my policeman
Summary: Harry is the police officer assigned to your case, though you are inexplicably drawn to one another 🤭 this will be the first instalment of a new series (if you guys like it lol)
Warnings: age gap romance, Harry is approx mid 40s and MC is early-mid 20s 🥰 smut!!
A/n: I hope you enjoy!! I really like this idea & the storyline so far for these two
You can join my taglist here! And my masterlist is here!! Happy reading 🫶🏼
“I need to speak to someone please, I’ve been mugged.”
You were panting, having run the ten minute journey to the police station from the bus stop. Someone had snatched the bulky work bag from your shoulder as you walked, then fled down a side street before you’d even had time to comprehend what had happened. Your natural instincts were to just run, and that’s exactly what you did. You ran until you stumbled through the police station doors, your heart still pounding with adrenaline.
“Styles!” the man behind the desk called out, an outstretched arm directing you to a closed door. You shuffled over, legs jelly after your spontaneous sprint. You weren’t sure whether to go through the doors or wait there, and the officer behind the desk had his back to you. But as you shifted awkwardly, the doors swung open, revealing possibly the hottest police officer you’d ever seen. He was old, older than you’d usually be interested in, but there was something about him. He was stocky and toned, grey streaks peppered through his deep brown curls. He smiled at you and extended his hand. "Officer Styles, but you can call me Harry.” Officer Harry Styles, the world’s sexiest police officer. You followed him down the corridor, into a tiny room with only a desk, a chair and a small sofa. It was cold and clinical, four grey walls lit by the same sort of lights you’d find in hospitals. It made you uneasy, but Harry’s eyes were laced with warmth as he looked over at you. "First of all, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.
You whispered a quiet “yes”, your response barely audible, but Harry caught it. You felt vulnerable now, having been too close to danger and not realising it at the time. You’d lived in London for years, heard so many tales of rape and mugging but never experienced it yourself, or had it happen to someone close to you. You were lucky to only have your work bag taken and be left otherwise untouched, but you couldn’t help feeling shaken by the encounter. “I was mugged,” you told Harry.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No. Just took my bag.”
“M’sorry that happened to you,” he said. There was a slight northern twang to his voice, the kind that suggested he’d been in London long enough to start losing it, but been in the North long enough for the accent to be stubborn. “Did you get a look at them?” he asked, tapping his pen against the sheet of paper in front of him.
“No, they were already running before I turned around.”
“Where did it happen?”
“The bus stop near Florence Gardens, going towards the station.”
“What did they take? Any valuables?”
“My work laptop. And my lunchbox,” you told him, corners of your mouth turning up slightly at the thought of the thief finding your leftover pasta. “They were in my rucksack, I had my phone and keys in my pocket.”
“What does the bag look like?”
“Black, it’s leather. I can show you?”
You pulled up a picture on your phone and handed it to Harry, watching as he wrote down the details.
“Alright, give me 10 minutes to file this, okay? You’ll be okay waiting here?” He handed the phone back to you and stood up as you nodded, then strode toward the door, the glinting badge on his chest catching the light. You’d never had to deal with the police before, and always been a little bit scared of authority figures. But Harry was warm, he made you feel safe despite the circumstances that had brought you to the police station.
It wasn’t long before Harry was back, a thick puffer jacket now covering his torso and a huge tote bag slung over his shoulder. He reached out and gently placed a comforting hand on the back of your seat. “Come on, my shifts over so I’ll walk you home.” You smiled as you followed him out of the room, grateful beyond words for his company.
“Do you not have worse crimes to solve than my stolen lunchbox?” you asked him as you walked, somehow comfortable in his presence. “Not anymore,” he told you. “Been in the police for 25 years now. Did a lot of that but wanted to settle down the last few years, s’better for me like this.”
“Guess it’s nicer for your wife that you’re not out chasing murderers,” you quipped, earning a chuckle from Harry. "Yeah, m’sure she’d appreciate it if she hadn’t divorced me already," he said with a small smile. “I’m sorry,” you told him, glancing over to try to read his face. Truthfully, you were excited by the idea of him being divorced. It didn’t mean he was single, and it definitely didn’t mean he’d be into you, but it was one less hurdle in your mind. "It's alright," he said. "Sometimes things jus’ don't work out, you know?”
“Mm, I know. My flat’s just down here,” you pointed the way to Harry. He walked you all the way to the doorstep, staring up at the building. “It’s not the best area,” he told you. "Be safe, okay? If you need anything, or remember anything, don't hesitate to call," Harry told you, a touch of protectiveness in his tone as he took out his phone. He sent a text to your number so you could save his, then watched as you opened the front door. “Thank you Harry, for everything,” you smiled. “I’m only a call away,” he said, rubbing a hand on your forearm.
Jesus Christ. You collapsed against your front door as you got inside, heart racing from just a gentle touch. You’d get mugged every day if it gave you the chance to be around Harry more. The thought of seeing him again made your head pound, the fear and violation you felt earlier in the evening long forgotten.
Maybe it was a reaction to the weirdness of your evening, maybe it was a way to work through all the emotions you were feeling, but you found yourself reaching for your vibrator as you stepped out of your work clothes. Harry was all you could think about, his hands trailing down your body, his fingers pinching at your nipple, his mouth pressing hot kisses across your abdomen. You could almost feel him hovering over you, so close and yet not close at all. He would be authoritative, demanding you press the vibrator to your clit, his fingers beginning to pump inside of you as you writhed on the bed.
You were moaning into the ghost of his mouth, his nose brushing against yours as your core tightened, a rush of emotions filling you to the brim. It was too much, your toy working at your clit with the idea of Harry’s ringed fingers pounding at your pussy, your free hand gripping onto his loose curls. You were coming faster than you ever had, hips bucking as you screamed out his name.
It was borderline insane. Coming so fast and so heavily for a man you barely knew, crying out his name as if he were here, riding you through your high. You felt almost dirty as you chucked your vibrator to the side, too mentally preoccupied to even shower or eat before climbing into bed. You just wanted to dream of Harry, try to work through your delusions before you had to see him again.
—
Your thoughts of Harry came and went over the next few days. Your manager had suggested you work from home for a few days, your only route home from the office marred by your mugging. The four walls of your apartment felt too small, too closed in even before you had an imaginary Harry following you around. You’d tried to push him out of your mind, desperate to avoid a crush on a man you hardly knew. You did this all the time, it was a symptom of being chronically single. As soon as a man showed kindness towards you, you fell in love. Harbouring a crush on the police officer working on your case was bad news, and yet as you thought about him, his name flashed up on your phone.
“Hey, y/n. How are you?”
“I’m okay, you?”
“Better for hearing your voice.” You could almost hear the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Listen, do you have time to swing by? Wanted to update you on a few things.”
“I can come now?” you offered. Working from home was slow, and you’d already completed your tasks for the day. So how could you wait any longer to see Harry again?
You looked over yourself in the mirror as you put the phone down, tightening your ponytail and smoothing a hand down the front of your top.
Harry was waiting in the reception area when you arrived at the police station, a big beaming grin sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks when he saw you. Truthfully, he could have spoken to you over the phone, but he wanted an excuse to see you again. It was silly, childlike even, the way he’d racked his brain for reasons to call or message since he’d dropped you off at home a few days ago. He felt ridiculous, far too giddy over a girl far too young for him, but he couldn’t get you off his mind.
“We think we’ve located your bag,” Harry told you as he ushered you into the same room as before. “Really?” you squeaked. “It’s not 100% yet, but we have had a few more reports of thefts in the area. We’ve tracked down an address, and we’ll be going in this week.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you grinned, throwing your arms around him before your brain could stop you. Harry chuckled, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before freezing. You’d both suddenly remembered where you were, who you were, and yet neither of you wanted to step away.
Harry gently squeezed you before saying, "It's all part of the job,” a small smile on his lips. There was something unspoken in the air as you stepped back, your gaze meeting his. “Sorry,” you muttered. His eyes were soft as he looked at you, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.
“You don’t have to apologise,” Harry told you, his lingering touch burning against your skin. You stared at each other wordlessly for a moment, tension heavy in the air, until a familiar call of Harry’s name broke the spell. You stepped further away from him, glancing down at the floor as the professional mask settled back into place on Harry’s face. “Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you later,” you smiled, turning your back on him.
—
You needed to distract yourself, arranging a last minute girls night to take your mind off of Harry. And yet, it was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you. The man you were specifically going out to forget was standing on the doorstep of your apartment building, hand poised to buzz your intercom as you opened the door. “Harry-” you started, unable to find any other, better words.
“Come to dinner with me,” he said, gaze trailing up and down your body. You were wearing your ‘good’ jeans, the ones that sucked you in in all the right places yet showcased your curves in all the best ones. You had more makeup on than he’d seen you in before, though your freckles and beauty spots still peeked through. The oversized leather jacket slung over your shoulders obscured the top half of your body, but Harry didn’t need to see any more to know just how good you looked. “Please,” he added, holding up a single red rose.
“Dinner with you,” you repeated, a little stunned by his offer. “Dinner.. with me. Should we say it once more for good luck?” Harry laughed. “Maybe once more,” you smiled, pulling your phone from your back pocket. need to cancel, something came up x you sent quickly to your best friends. “Where are we going?” you asked Harry, eyes locking back onto him as he walked back down the path. “In first, questions later,” he told you, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side door for you.
“You’re acting very murdery for a man of the law,” you laughed, sliding onto the seat. “It was a test, and you failed. Should never get in a strange man’s car,” he joked.
The drive was mostly silent, except for the rhythm of Harry’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. You were suddenly nervous, mouth dry and heart pounding as you watched the city become a blur. The sun was starting to set overhead as you drove further from home, street lamps and homes beginning to light up around you. Harry glanced over at you, brows furrowed as he tried to read the emotion etched onto your face. “You okay?” he asked, resting a strong hand on your knee.
“Shy,” you smiled weakly. It had only just hit you that you didn’t know Harry at all, couldn’t even think of anything to say to cut through the silence. You wanted the evening to go well, wanted to explore the connection you felt with him. But if you stammered and stuttered all night long, you’d have to go into hiding before a future with Harry even became a possibility.
You watched him as he drove, brows knitted in concentration as he navigated the busy streets. You hadn’t even paid attention to what he was wearing before, and as your eyes wandered over his body, your jaw went slack.
Harry wore a loose white dress shirt that although slightly oversized, seemed to fit him perfectly. He’d left the top few buttons open, allowing glimpses of his toned physique. As he moved his hands around the steering wheel, the material of the shirt shifted, revealing intricate tattoos that adorned his arms and chest. You’d seen a couple on his arms, but the amount that littered the tanned skin of his torso made your heart race. With each tiny movement, his tattoos peeked through the fabric, muscles flexing underneath the inked skin. He was handsome in a way that was new to you, rugged and yet soft.
There was something about his age that drew you to him, his years on you more a challenge than anything. He clearly knew how to act and had no problems going after what he wanted, a world away from the men you knew who were all still stuck in their fratboy mindsets.
“We’re here,” Harry said, resting a gentle hand over yours to pull you from your daydream. He’d pulled up in front of a quaint pub. The bold blue exterior was littered with bright flowers in hanging baskets and window boxes. A crowd of merry customers had spilled out onto the pavement outside, the warm glow from the pub washing over them. “This is so cute,” you told Harry, following him through the open door. “Officer Styles!” a man called out from across the bar. Harry greeted him with a firm handshake, turning his ear to the man’s mouth to hear him over the music. It wasn’t long before he turned back to you, grabbing a hold of your hand to lead you up the stairs. “I did some work for the owner,” he told you, pulling open another door. “Don’t live far from here so I come often now. Good food and good views,” he smirked, stepping out of the way to reveal the scene set up for you.
The balcony was slim, only just wide enough to fit two small tables. One was set up for dining, a bottle of red perched among ice in the middle. The other was covered in candles, wax dripping around a beautiful bouquet in the centre. It was secluded and romantic, the dream setting for your first date with what could be your dream man.
You talked and laughed for what felt like forever, voice hoarse from giggling at Harry’s jokes. The sharing plates he’d ordered sat cold and forgotten in front of you both, almost empty glasses stained pink from the wine.
A hint of a smirk played on Harry's lips as his eyes trailed over yours. “Quickfire round, since I have a feeling you won’t let me kiss you until we know each other better. Family?”
“My brother’s younger, he’s in uni. Parents live by the coast,” you told him, heat rising through your core at the very idea of kissing him.
“My mum lives up north, got an older sister too. Hobbies?”
“I like painting. Don’t do it as much anymore but..” you let your voice trail off.
“But you’re going to paint me?” Harry grinned, turning his back to you and peering seductively over his shoulder. “Draw me like one of your French girls,” he drawled, a mocking glint in his eyes.
“Nuh uh. Got to answer or you’ll never get that kiss.”
“I don’t have hobbies. I like working out and like puzzles,” Harry shrugged.
“Typical old man hobby,” you laughed. Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Well, maybe I am an old soul trapped in a sexy young body," he replied with a playful grin. "Can't complain about that, right?"
You nodded, still amused by his choice of hobbies. "You’re right, I can’t.”
As your conversation continued, you and Harry discovered more and more about each other. Your dreams, fears, and your favourite childhood memories. You laughed and shared stories, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.
“M’not ready to let you go yet,” Harry smiled, looking out over the river. It was almost totally dark now, the last rays of evening sunshine nearly vanished behind the horizon. You smiled back at Harry. “"I'm not ready to go either," you admitted, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth as you looked over him, taking in the beauty of the scene. He was the definition of a silver fox. You’d noticed heads turning as you left the pub, young (and older) women captivated by just a glance of Harry. Being the girl on his arm felt good, even if it was just for the evening.
“Let’s walk,” Harry told you, his fingers intertwining with yours. You strolled down the riverside hand in hand, chatting mindlessly. Harry shared stories of his childhood, his years working for a local bakery before he moved to London and joined the Met.
You felt so much comfort and warmth as you listened to Harry. His stories painted vivid pictures in your mind, a glimpse into his past giving you some understanding of the person he was. As the two of you continued walking, the sound of the flowing river created a soothing backdrop to your conversation. The setting sun was casting a golden glow over your surroundings, and you couldn't help but feel a growing connection with Harry. It was as if time stood still, and the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.
You found yourself opening up to Harry, sharing your own stories. He listened attentively, his eyes filled with genuine interest and understanding. It was refreshing to be with someone who truly cared about getting to know you on a deeper level.
As the evening progressed, the conversation shifted towards more lighthearted topics. Laughter filled the air as Harry recounted some of the funnier people he’d encountered during his career. His animated gestures and contagious laughter made it impossible for you not to join in. There was a boyish charm behind his manly facade, and the more time you spent with Harry, the more you realized how effortlessly he made you feel at ease. There was a natural chemistry between you, a connection that went beyond words. It was a feeling of familiarity, as if you had known each other for years.
As darkness began to envelop you, Harry gently squeezed your hand, bringing your attention back to the present moment. You both paused, eyes trailing over the other’s features under the moonlight. Harry tugged on your arm quickly, pulling you towards the wall. Your heart quickened as his gaze fell to your parted lips, his body gently pressing your back into the brick. The light cast a soft glow on his face, lust etched into every line on his face.
You felt as if you were floating somewhere outside your body as Harry leaned in, his warm breath mingling with yours. His lips brushed against your own, gentle yet filled with an insatiable longing.
You responded eagerly, your hands instinctively finding their way to his waist. The kiss deepened, becoming a dance of lust and unspoken desires. Harry's lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, his hands roaming your body. It had been a long time since a kiss had ignited a fire within your core, and yet you were burning brighter with every touch.
The taste of him was intoxicating, warm wine, sweetness and desire on his tongue leaving you breathless. He pressed you further into the wall, your bodies molding together perfectly as if they were made to be intertwined.
It had started to rain at some point, though you were too consumed by the raw passion that existed between you to notice the soft raindrops running down your skin. All you could focus on was Harry’s tongue licking into your mouth, a silent promise of the yearning and desire that he felt for you.
He pulled your bottom lip into his mouth before you both pulled away, breathless and panting. The world slowly came back into focus, but the sight of Harry before you nearly made your heart stop. The rain had soaked through his shirt, the thin material now translucent and dipping and weaving over his toned abdomen. His curls were slick against his forehead, raindrops lingering on the end of his eyelashes. His jaw was tense as he looked over your face, one hand gently grazing your waist. He was mesmerising, powerful and yet vulnerable as he stood soaked through in front of you.
You reached out with a gentle hand, pushing the wet curls from his face. But just as your swollen lips parted to speak, the heavens opened above you. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you and Harry, raindrops pelting you from every angle. You looked at each other in shock, a laugh tumbling past your lips.
Harry grabbed a hold of your hand and ran, the sound of your footsteps slapping against puddles breaking the silence of the now empty streets. You were barely able to hold yourself upright from laughter, falling into Harry’s body as your legs carried you closer to the car. His grip tightened on your wrist, guiding you through the dark paths.
As you reached the car, Harry fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking from the sudden cold. You stood beside him, shivers of adrenaline running through you. The rain smacked against the roof of the car as Harry unlocked it, pulling open the door for you. Even in the pouring rain, he was still a gentleman. You slid in quickly, the sudden warmth fogging up the windows.
You sat in silence for a moment, eyes trailing over each other as you caught your breath. A smile played on Harry’s lips as he looked at you, his hand coming up to brush your sodden hair from your face.
—
There was no way you could sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for at least an hour, the ache in your core too much to sleep on. All you could do was replay the evening in your mind, wondering exactly how you ended up alone in Harry’s bed.
“Here,” Harry handed you one of his T-shirts and some pyjama bottoms. “Shower’s through there, get yourself warmed up.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you headed into the bathroom, a tiny sigh of disappointment slipping past your lips. You were desperate for him to join you in the shower, craving more of his touch. A night of stolen glances and gentle touches had you burning up even before the kiss, but after seeing what Harry’s mouth was capable of, you were dying for more of him.
As the water washed over you, all you could think about was Harry’s lips on yours. The hunger in his eyes before he kissed you, the taste of red wine on his tongue.
—
“Would you not get in trouble for this?” you asked Harry, hands wrapped tightly around the hot chocolate he’d handed you. “Maybe. But once we have your stuff back, the case is over. They can’t say anything then,” he shrugged, turning to lean against the kitchen counter. He got more handsome every time you looked at him, as if that were even possible. Now, standing there with his old man plaid pyjama pants and a T-shirt tight against his muscular frame, you were left pressing your thighs together to keep the heat in. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Harry smiled from the sofa. You almost jumped out of your skin at his voice, having tried your hardest to creep silently into the kitchen. He looked adorable, tucked under a thick blanket with his long legs squashed up at the end of the sofa. “Just needed water,” you told him, grabbing an empty cup from the counter.
“Why don’t you want to share a bed with me?” you suddenly burst out, turning on your heel to face him. You weren’t going to beg, didn’t want to whine, but the words came out before you could stop yourself. Harry chuckled, padding over to join you by the sink. He pushed a strand of hair out of your face, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, he whispered, “come on,” his voice low and husky.
You followed Harry out of the kitchen and back up the stairs, watching as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He patted his legs, signalling for you to join him. You straddled his thick thighs, eyes fixed on his as he looked over your body. In only his t-shirt and your tiny panties, you’d never looked more delicious to him. “I didn’t share a bed with you because I try not to sleep with women on the first date,” he told you, slipping a hand under your t-shirt before holding your waist with a firm grip. “And I wouldn’t be able to resist if I were in bed with you.” His eyes came to rest on yours, his pupils blown under thick eyelashes. “You don’t have to resist, Harry,” you replied, your voice small, barely slipping out past your heart pounding in your throat. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one hand toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. His hand moved further up your body, thumb running over your nipple.
“Y’so beautiful,” Harry cooed, pulling your t-shirt off in one quick movement. He sat back for a second, an arrogant smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he gazed over you. Hunger was written all over his face, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.
He leaned in, his lips soft as they brushed against yours. Gentle, yet fuelled by desire. His tongue moved around yours, a delicate dance that left you breathless against his mouth.
Harry’s hands roamed your exposed skin, tracing patterns of heat and need. His touch was electric, insatiable as he gripped and groped at every bit of skin he could reach. He moved with purpose, tracing the curves and contours of your upper body. Every touch, every stroke, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
His lips left yours, trailing a path of fire down your throat, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips smooth as he suckled and nibbled at the sensitive flesh.
You shifted slightly on his lap, his hard cock nudging at your folds through his pyjama pants. The room was filled with a symphony of whispered moans and ragged breaths as you rubbed yourself on him, the soft scratch of Harry’s pyjamas between your thighs only adding to your desire. You needed him in a way that transcended reality, a hunger that went beyond the physical. Your yearning was deep in your soul as Harry’s hands continued to explore you, his touch more than just a physical sensation. It was a language of its own, speaking unbridled passion.
He wrapped an arm under your hips, lifting you up just enough to slip his pyjamas down his thighs. His cock sprang up between the two of you, grazing your entrance. You whimpered as his tip touched you, your head falling onto Harry’s shoulder. He stroked a hand down his shaft, hissing as his thumb brushed over the angry tip. He started to move you, not expecting you to want to ride him, but you wrapped a firm hand around his neck and shook your head softly, pulling your face from his shoulder to meet his eyes. “Like this, Harry,” you whispered, shifting in his grip until his head lined up with your folds. You pulled your panties to the side, your juices warm against his head.
“You’re on birth control?” he asked, voice strangled as he resisted the urge to push into you. You nodded, sinking down slowly until his thick cock was deep inside of you, splitting your walls wide open. A deep cry fell from your lips as you stilled, his shaft throbbing as it settled into you.
“So fuckin’ tight, kitten,” he drawled, lips planting hungry kisses along your jawline. His eyes were fixed on the mirror behind you, watching his hand grip onto the curve of your ass. His free hand slid under you, easing you up ever so slightly. You could feel him everywhere, in your stomach and in your throat as he pushed deeper into you. Your walls were threatening to burst around his shaft, the size of his cock scratching an itch you never knew you’d had. It was pure ecstasy.
“Harry,” you whined, gripping him tighter as you pushed your hips upwards, starting to find your rhythm. The burn was white-hot in your core, tingles of pleasure spreading through your body as you bounced up and down on his lap. Your nails raked down his back as he fucked into you, deep whines and moans being pulled from your mouth every time Harry’s cock hit your sweet spot. His strong arm was guiding your hips up and down, his free hand still exploring your body as he pressed kisses along your throat. You still wanted more of each other, still searching each other’s bodies as if you had been starved of touch for years.
You were as close as you could be to him, your bodies melding together with every push of his hips. Your clit was rubbing against the fabric of your panties with every movement, every slap of your cheeks against his groin sending you further into your spiral.
“You’re mine, all mine, huh?” Harry mewled against your skin, his lips moving down to find your nipple. He sucked and licked around the bud, his lips swollen and hot. “All yours,” you whined, your orgasm creeping up on you after Harry’s dominant ownership. He held you tightly, your trembling legs heavy on his arm despite how light you felt. You were sure you could take flight in that moment, pleasure coursing through you with every buck of his hips. You threw your head onto his shoulder as you came, a strangled cry pushing past your dry lips.
Your walls tightened around his cock, his lips pressing a tiny moan into your skin. He flipped you over once your breathing slowed, the new angle pushing his cock deeper into you. Harry splayed a hand across your stomach, feeling where he was fucking into you. His eyes were dark as he looked down at you, watching the way your tits bounced with every rock of his hips. His thrusts started to get sloppier, his hips knocking into you harder as he came close to his high. You could feel him throbbing inside of you as he panted, jaw slack as he pulled out of you quickly. One hand stroked the length of his cock as he came, his come splashing violently all over your chest. You released the hand gripping his shoulder to swipe a finger through the puddle, licking it from your fingertip hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he drawled, chest heaving as he watched you.
You were more content in that moment than you’d ever been, silently thanking whoever had decided to steal your bag. If it was all an insane plan to get you here, covered in Harry’s come, you’d thank them every day for the rest of your life.
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I Can Do it With a Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+ | PREVIEW
NOW POSTED
Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.
Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.
Excerpt here:
The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be this gorgeous, it’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”
He dusts the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”
He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”
Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”
He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”
Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to class its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.
It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”
A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”
“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”
Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tilted floors and fall into the depths of hell.
“She asked you out?”
“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”
That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per say. But a sweet girl like Chrissy, one that bore pretty blonde curls, a sweet smile and a sweet disposition, this is like your worst nightmare come true.
Thanks to the notion of living in a small town, you could recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.
This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.
“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, watching in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”
“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”
“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?”
Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”
This is also new. Even as his dates would happen any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this isn’t a new habit of his.
“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”
You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you tried to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.
Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what is probably another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.
You smoked more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.
-
Final word count is about 24k so I think I'll post on the 15 to give my editor a fighting chance. If you want to be tagged let me know <3
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x reader smut
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Robin is positive that Steve isn't straight. At first, she thought she was projecting. Maybe she just wanted to share another aspect of herself with her best friend, but no. She's very confident now. The way Steve acts sometimes makes it so obvious. He's listened to her talk about how scary it is, being a lesbian in a town like Hawkins, and he talks to her about it like he undertands, even if he doesn't realize it. She roped him into watching a movie with a gay couple in it, and Steve's eyes lit up seeing two men kiss on screen. He once cracked a joke about going on a date with a guy that sounded far too sincere to be a joke. She knows, deep in the depths of her very soul, that Steve is a little bit queer.
And she could prove it if she could just figure out what his type is
She's been doing research, real genuine research into what male celebrities are considered hot. Finding movies with said supposedly hot men and making Steve watch them with her. But there's nothing! No reaction, not even the slightest blush when Harrison Ford was sweaty and shirtless right before his eyes. It isn't until she gets him to watch Rocky Horror that she finally catches something. Tim Curry in all his fishnet-clad glory brings a flush to Steve's cheeks. One that gets even worse when the character dons a leather jacket halfway through. It isn't much, but it's enough.
She mentally tallys everything about Tim Curry in that movie. Dark eyes, curls, makeup, tights, and especially the leather. She tries not to get her hopes up too high, knows that Tim Curry was wearing feminine clothes and makeup in the movie, so maybe Steve was just thrown off and confused, but it's a start at least. She makes a new list of movies, and pays close attention to his reactions.
The real breakthroughs come with The Lost Boys and The Breakfast Club. Lost Boys had been planned, one of her choices designed to illicit a response from Steve. Lots of pretty boys, some with dark curly hair, some with big dark eyes, and quite a few wearing leather jackets. Steve had been interested, that was for sure, a lot more than he had in the other movies she'd shown him. The Breakfast Club was a surprise. It had been one of Steve's picks, and Robin hadn't even been paying close attention. But it was impossible to miss the way Steve's eyes shot to the screen every time John Bender was speaking.
So, Robin has an answer. Steve Harrington liked bad boys. Men with dark hair and dark eyes, clad in leather with attitude for miles. Not what she had been expecting, but she's delighted, to say the least.
The delight only grows when Eddie Munson comes into their lives, and she gets a front row seat to Steve Harrington's Big Gay Meltdown. Eddie ticks off all Steve's boxes. Dark curly hair, big brown doe eyes, leather and denim from head to toe, and he has the attitude. But he checks off other boxes too, ones Robin hadn't even realized existed. He checks off the 'great big nerd' box. Because when she thinks about it, yes. Steve surrounds himself with exclusively nerds. He checks off the 'good with kids' box effortlessly, to the point that Robin almost screams when she hears Steve telling Nancy about his six kids and a winnebago dream, because Eddie basically already has part-time custody of Steve's weird gaggle of gremlin children. He tickes off the 'queer as fuck' box too, if Robin's judgement is any good, and she was pretty sure it was. The bandana in his pocket seems like a pretty good sign, if the zines she had smuggled on a family trip to Indy were to be trusted.
Eddie Munson is perfect for Steve, in every way possible, Robin is sure of it. So needless to say, shes thrilled when Steve finally, FINALLY pulls her into the crappy little bathroom at Family Video and asks her how she realized she was gay. This is going to be the start of a beautiful little journey for them both, Robin is going to welcome it with open arms.
Part 2
#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson#stranger things 4#Robin Buckley#Platonic Stobin#Robin is already wingmanning steve before he even realizes he likes men#And she certainly doesnt miss the way Eddie blushes when they watch Indiana Jones as a group#and Shirtless Harrison Ford is on screen#ficlet#steddie ficlet
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I Hate You
𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞
wc: 5.4k
“If you don’t stop I’m going to jam that pen through your ear.”
That makes the curly brunette man take his thumb off the button, eyes shifting to give a sidelong glance at you, his mouth slightly agape as he takes in the words.
You had enough of the fingers drumming against the wooden table, the shifting around in his seat constantly, and you definitely had it when he begin clicking his pen away as if you weren’t beside him through this whole class.
“I wanna see you try.” He whispers back, his head turning to smirk at you as his pen now taps against the table gently. Oh, did you want to ring your hands around his neck.
Harry Styles, the man on campus that everyone is friends with and the one that has all the ladies gossiping about. Despite him being known for his social life he also was part of a fraternity. They were popular for throwing the most outrageous parties but also pulling the stupidest pranks throughout the year— you absolutely despised them. Sloppy drinking, chain-smoking, and making themselves look like complete idiots streaking during the schools football games.
So when you walked into your English Lit class and your teacher decided to sit you next to each other for the whole semester, you wanted to claw your eyes out. Every class he would come in and purposely let his bag hit your head, his feet kicking the leg of your chair as his knees would dig into your lower back before taking his seat. At first, you paid no mind to it because it was a tight space to fit in, however when it became an everyday occurrence and his sarcastic smile and fake tone of apologies would start you would just roll your eyes.
But, him sitting next you in class wasn’t the worse thing… It was the fact that your dorm roommate was dating one of his fraternity brothers. So nearly every weekend or event that they hosted, you always managed to get dragged along to have him pick on you.
You didn’t like Harry at all. You didn’t like his stupid curls, his laugh, or tattoos that make him look like a unfinished scrapbook, and you definitely did not like the fact that he stares back at you as if you were a joke.
You squint your eyes at him and press your lips together, your fingers that were pressed into the keys of your laptop curling in on themselves as you resist the urge to strike him.
“Easy there,” He chuckles, his eyes flickering to your balled up fists before turning his head towards the teacher, the grey haired man stands in front of the podium making drastic gestures with his hands. “You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” Harry questions, his pen going behind his ear as he closes his laptop and notebook, stuffing it into his bag.
Before you know it, Mr. Dawson is announcing the homework for over the weekend while telling everyone he’ll see them Monday. The seat next to you pushes away from the table, and you feel his feet kick your chair and knees dig into your back. Only making your fists grow even tighter, you plant your feet flat on the carpet and push your chair against his bent legs, that makes a groan escape Harry’s lips as you stand with your closed laptop and bag, eyes staring into each other as you look at him amused.
“You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” You mock him before tugging off to the library.
Why couldn’t you have one encounter with him were he wasn’t a complete dickhead.
White mini skirt and matching tube top cling to your skin, the pink cropped leather jacket shifted tightly on your shoulders as your feet tip toe towards the mirror to see yourself. You thought you looked stupid, but Faye thought otherwise.
“You need to dress like this more,” She insisted, her brown eyes wide as they scaled your body. You shook your head and groan.
“Like a joke?” You sigh, your head leaning to the side as you looked at your figure. You were never one to dress in revealing clothes, you loved crewnecks and cargo pants, especially your Converses and Vans.
“Hey!” Faye says while giving you a puzzled look.
“You know what I mean, this stuff looks good on you… not me…” You say, body now turning in the mirror to see your side profile.
You had no choice but to dress as if you were a plastic doll. The Barbie movie just recently came out which made Faye’s boyfriend, Niall, think it would be a good idea to throw a party insisting everyone dress up as if they were in “Barbie’s Dream House”. That’s why you’re standing in the mirror, white opened toed heels and curled hair staring back at you as Faye tried to make you look like Biker Barbie.
“You look hot Y/N, don’t overthink it,” She says while taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you gently, making you let out a nervous laugh.
She’s right, don’t overthink it, you’ll most likely be surrounded by dim lights and drunken bodies that no one will even notice your change of appearance.
However, despite those words that played over and over again in the back of your head, your thoughts begin to fill as you stepped into the house. Each person you passed by, gazing their eyes over your skin, lazy smiles sent your way while winks would drop other times, and you just simply wanted to disappear.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Faye yells in your ear over the pumping music. You nod your head in agreement and made your way into the familiar kitchen.
“Fancy seeing you here!” The usual Irish voice of Niall calls to Faye as he brings her into embrace. You let a small smile slip on your lips before you see Harry next to him with an amused face.
As Faye and Niall chatted with each other while taking red cups apart to pour liquor in, Harry stepped closer to you; his curls are tossed away behind his ears as he had a sleeveless light blue jean jacket with matching pants on, his tattoos exposed and glistening against the lights.
“You look good for once!” He quips, his red cup knocking against his chest. The smile falls from your lips as you send daggers at him.
“Do you ever shut up,” You say, your eyes tearing away from him and to the red cup that Faye hands you.
“Hey! I was being nice for once!” Harry chimed, lips dropping into a pout as you watch his free hand raise to his chest in hurt. Instead, you ignore him and pay attention to whatever Faye was talking about but that doesn’t last long when you feel a finger poke your hip and you’re glaring back at the tattooed man.
“Am I not Kenough?” He questions, and that only makes you snort as a laugh trails out after, understanding his reference. “There it is,” Harry grins as he takes a drink from his cup. You only roll your eyes and focus back on the previous conversation.
“Whatever,” You mutter while taking a sip of your overly strong drink.
Soon that cup turned to four more, the overthinking thoughts about how embarrassing you thought you looked tonight slipped your mind as you were dancing with the cute boy in your Social Science course, your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck as he runts his hips against your backside.
For once, you were actually happy that you came to the party and drunk more than your normal limit. You were fed up with school and with midterms around the corner, you needed this type of fun. As you felt the room beginning to twist in your version, you turn around in Caleb’s hold and let your hands rest along his chest.
“Tired?” He questions, brown eyes peering down at you as his lips tucked into his teeth. You nodded your head in response, your finger tips feeling over his flannel as you lean into him.
“Let’s go upstairs Kels,” Caleb leans down and whispers but that only makes a frown tug on your lips.
“Kels? I’m Y/N.” You state, tone filled with annoyance that the man you had your eyes on in class had his elsewhere. You feel his head move away from your ear, his eyes raking over your face as a goofy grin begins to spread.
“Oh! Y/N! You look so different… you’re not dressed like a boy, I like it!” Caleb says, only making your stomach twist in disgust.
“Yeah…” You say, small smile replacing the frown as you feel yourself step back from his touch. “I’m just gonna go to the washroom,” You rush, tearing away from his hold and not waiting for his response.
You felt your throat begin to swell as you tried to push your way through the mess of people on the makeshift dance floor. You’re not dressed like a boy. Was he serious? That’s what he thought when he saw you? Even the fact that he called you someone else’s name! You wanted to crawl into your bed and die.
Shouts begin to ring out as the floor vibrates, everyone jumping to the party anthem playing which only makes your exit out of the living room worse. You felt your cheeks heat up and tears at the brim of your eyes, just wanting to go to the bathroom as soon as possible to let them escape.
But just your luck, as the chorus rings through the air the floor boards pound under your heels, you feel cool liquid running from your chest to your stomach. Brown booze dripping on the burrowed two piece outfit and at that point you feel your ears burn, and if you could grow horns out of your head you’re sure they would be there.
Your gaze turns away from your sticky stomach and towards the culprit who spilled it on you, your eyes meeting the familiar green ones who sits next to you in English. As your lips press together and your finger nails leave indents in your skin, you watch Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drop in complete shock.
“I— I’m so sorry.. I d—didn’t mean too—“
“I hate you.” You spew, cutting him off and giving him an icy glare. Your body immediately brushing past him and traveling upstairs to get away from the party that you now wished you didn’t attend at all.
Of course, Harry had to be the one to top off this moment and ruin your outfit that you know you’d have to pay Faye back for— because this was definitely not coming out. You could handle his kicking and snarky comments, but draw the line at him completely damaging something that didn’t belong to you.
You were pissed, drunk, and wanted to be buried six feet under; but instead you stomped your way up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the stain taking up the white material, only making your eyes press shut as you feel tears begin to trail down your cheeks. This was so embarrassing; first you’re wearing something you wouldn’t ever step out in, you finally have a moment with the guy you’ve been staring at since the beginning of the semester— just for him to say you dress like a boy! And to top it off, now you have a full cup of god knows what all over you. This night sucked.
“Y/N…” You hear Harry’s voice behind the door with a knock. You open your eyes and roll them, throat letting a sigh slip out as you run your fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.
“What.” You say back, turning around to rest your back against the sink.
“I—I’m being so honest with you, I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I promise, it was a mistake.” Harry said behind the door, his voice muffled but you can tell for once he actually sounds sincere, but who knows he also could be faking it to make you feel better.
“Sure Harry,” You called back, hand leaning down as you rake your fingers through your hair, the tear streaks drying on your skin and making your cheeks feel tight when you speak.
With surprise you heard the rumble of the door knob and soon is faced with Harry who actually has a sad look written on his features.
“Ever heard of privacy,” You mutter, your eyes tearing away from his and looking at the white tiled floor.
“It’s my bathroom,” Harry responds, only making you suck in your breath and fingers drum against the porcelain sink, not realizing it was his room you escaped too.
“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, eyes still down as you break away from your stance and move towards the door. That only makes Harry stand in front of you and block your movements.
“No it’s okay don’t worry, it’s my fault. Believe me Y/N, I really didn’t mean to fuck up your outfit.” He says, genuinely which makes your gaze tear and lock with his. Your breath catches in your throat because for once he doesn’t have a menacing look.
“Okay.” You say, lips being sucked into your mouth as your stare never wavers.
“L—Let me get you a change of clothes,” Harry urges, his feet stepping back as he makes his way out of the bathroom and walk over to his dresser. This makes you trail behind him as your hands tug at the bottom of the dirty skirt riding up.
“Oh spare clothes of the girls you sleep with, yay,” You sarcastically remarked, heels clicking against the floor boards as you followed him.
“Ha ha.” Harry says, his voice serious as he dug into his top drawer and pulled out a plain black tee. That only makes you chew down on your lip, your fingers taking the garment in your hand, eyes running over how big it is compared to your frame.
“Trust me, everyone will be too drunk to remember what people were wearing tonight,” He spoke, both of his hands going to either side of him as he leans against the dresser, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but the way he is against the furniture with his jacket opened displaying his tattoos, has your mind forgetting about his treatment towards you over the past few months.
“I figured,” You mumble as you tear the t-shirt away from your chest and your eyes flicker between it and the brunette before you. “Uh.. can you turn around?” You question while beginning to shrug off the pink leather jacket.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harry scoffs while tearing his tattooed arm off the dresser and letting his hand cover his eyes. You scoff while kicking off your heels and tugging the damp clothing off your skin. “What?” Harry counters, you see his eyebrows push together in his palm as he questions your response.
“I just dress like a boy… that’s all. I bet I’m not exactly the girl you look at…” You mumble, the feeling of the clean fabric running down your skin makes your fingers gaze over it.
“I think you dress cute,” Harry confesses. The compliment making your cheeks heat up and your palms grow with sweat. You really shouldn’t even be glowing from his words. This was the guy who tormented you since September; hitting you with his book bag, giving snarky comments and mean jabs. Why are his words making butterflies erupt in your stomach.
“You’re just saying that, let’s not forget what you said in the kitchen…” You respond, leaning down and picking up the drenched clothing and balling them together. “You can look now.” You state, as you see him put his hand down and give you a bright smile. The way he’s acting so different from what you’re use to, maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems.
“You know I was just teasing… but why does it even matter?” Harry ask, that only makes your eyes tear away and look at your polished toes running over each other against the dark hard wood.
“It’s nothing… it’s whatever really,” You sigh, fingers now playing with the ends of his shirt.
“Is that what the guy you were dancing with told you?” Harry asks, only making your head snap up and send him questioning gaze.
“You were watching me?” You inquire. His turn to now dip his head down and avoid your eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that… I just noticed, that’s all.” He says, his head swinging a bit as he lifts himself off the dresser and makes a step towards you, his hand taking the wet clothes.
“Promise I’ll get the stain out,” He remarks, a goofy look on his face and that only makes you smirk.
“Make that promise to Faye, not me.”
“Fuck… She’s gonna have me dead.”
The two of you erupting in drunken laughter at the image of Faye seeing her ruined garments, just knowing the screaming match she’ll have with Harry.
“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” You asked, your hand reaching to your chest as you try to regain your breath.
“You’re the one who hates me,” Harry says giving you a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s mean to me.” You remark your chin tilting as you stare up at him.
“You can’t even blame me,” He smiles while rolling his eyes, his arms crossing over each other and the heat of him radiates onto your body. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” His head leaning down and placing a small peck on your lips.
You were stunned in place, your eyes still open as he continues to place small kisses on your lips. As you leaned in closer to him, his hands tore away from his chest to drop the clothes and hold your hips. What the fuck was actually going on right now? You were really kissing Harry and it felt good— you didn’t want to admit.
The peppering kisses turned into lips syncing onto each other, your eyes now fluttering shut while your hands lie on his inked chest. It felt so wrong but the way his lips tasted of cherry coke and rum, you wanted to get drunk off it.
Deep breathes and needy hands were soon shared between the both, your fingers were now running through the hair on the nape of his neck while his roams your backside. The way his huge hands were pushing your cheeks and shoving you closer to him made you wet.
You pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva linking you too together which makes Harry smirk, his eyes glossy and lips bruised red. You wanted to fuck him so bad.
“You’re a shit kisser.” You remark. His smirk falling as his hands tighten around your ass.
“Shut up,” He mutters before pressing his lips roughly against yours, his fingers slipping deeper to cup your bum, some digits gliding over your heat only making you whimper at the touch.
His tongue tangled with yours as his chest closed the space left between you two. Harry’s weight molding onto you as he forces you to take steps back until your knees hit the bed frame and you’re falling back onto the mattress. You let your elbows push you up on the bed, your eyes locking with his as he lowers himself on you, his lips pressing back against you as your thighs bring him in.
His clothed member pushes against your heat which only makes a whimper escape, you still can’t get over that he has his tongue in your mouth but now you’re making him hard. Was this really the same guy you were cussing at just a few hours ago.
Harry’s hands move away from your shoulders and spread to where your thighs hold him, the way his hands feel running down your skin has you pushing yourself deeper into his touch.
“Easy there…” He mutters against your lips when he pulls away, his lips traveling to your neck to then run over your clothed breasts, his eyes looking to yours as his lips gaze your nipples. You wanted to moan at the sight, the way his curls surrounded his face, his green orbs staring back at you while he descended down your body.
“Harry,” You whisper when you feel his breath rush over your stomach, his hands slipping under his shirt and feeling over your hips before playing with the band of your panties.
His response to the call of his name, was peeling the material down your legs and his mouth pressing open kisses onto your hip bone. Your heart beat was making your chest hurt from how nervous yet excited you are; was this really about to happen?
Your question was soon answered when you felt his breath against your heat, his hands pushing the shirt over your hips as you watch his curls brush against your inner thighs when you feel him lick a stripe up your folds. This made you dig your teeth into your bottom lip because, yeah this was happening.
Green eyes looking back at you as his tongue runs back up your slit to let it circle around your clit, lips suckling on the nerves before dangling it with his tongue again. This made your head knock back and your eyes flutter shut, he was teasing you, like he always does.
His mouth repeats those motions as moans tremble from your lips, head resting on your shoulder as you look at him sucking your folds. You let your free hand run through his hair, tugging at it lightly.
“I know you can do better than that.” You remark, eyes batting at him slowly as you push back down on him. In that moment you swear you watched his eyes glaze over a different shade, his hands gripping against your hips roughly as he lets his tongue delve into you.
Thick and slicked with spit his muscle flexed it’s way between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked into you, humming against your heat as his nails left indents in your skin. Words can’t even express how it felt, the way his tongue just roamed inside you so wickedly that it had whimpers and moans leave you.
The view of him was even better, his eyes fluttering as he looked like he was pleased with the way you tasted, his hair falling over his forehead. The look of Harry between your legs only makes you moan again and squeeze your thighs against his face, his fingers bruising your skin from how hard he’s holding you.
You let your back completely fall to the mattress, both hands now carding though his hair as you let your hips roll against his mouth, his tongue now lying flat against your heat as he lets you ride him. Hips running up and down the expanse of his muscle, clit smoothing against taste buds as you work yourself on him, Harry’s mouth moaning against your pussy as he peeled his eyes open to stare at you, the sight making you moan immediately.
You were too tipsy to even comprehend that this was actual reality; you were suppose to hate Harry, despise him! Yet, he was between your legs and sending shockwaves throughout your nerves.
Fingers tighten in the curly locks as your hips stutter and jerk on his tongue, the sinking feeling in your abdomen tightens as your orgasm creeps upon you. The feeling of his fingers pushing down on your hips making you seep deeper into the mattress, and moan at the roughness of his touch.
The ball in your stomach begins to build, your chest breathing in shallow breaths as your thighs twitch, his tongue licking you into bliss. Just as you feel the nerves in your stomach nearly burst, the heat of his muscle tears away and makes a cry leave your lips while Harry placed wet kisses up your body.
“You didn’t think I was gonna let you get off this easy,” Harry hums against you, his hands leaving your hips and letting it rake his shirt over your head. They then go to take off his jacket and tug his jeans down, your hands immediately going to peel his boxers down his thighs.
“For someone who hates me so much, you really want my dick right now,” He mutters, his hand going to his exposed member and rubbing himself, the sight making you clench your legs.
Now, you can really see what the girls on your campus were talking about; the way his hair dropped in loose curls surrounding his face, tattoos that flex so nicely in the dim lighting of the room, and the way he’s staring at you like he’s craving you. You finally see it.
Harry lets himself run against your heat, his head lying on your clit and rubbing over it only making you suck in a breath. He was pressed so nice and warm against you while toying with your nerves. Seconds later, he leans down and lets drool slip from between his lips to trace down his dick to drip between your exposed folds. You wanted to look at this sight forever, but you hate the fact that you like this so much but can’t help but too, Harry was hot you had to admit.
The thoughts leave your mind when you feel his head slip into you, edging himself back out slowly before continuing to seep back in. Once again, he was teasing you but you had enough with this game since you just wanted the feeling of him inside you finally.
You let your hands dig into the sheets while moving your hips down on him, his dick slipping deeper into you which only elects moans from both of you. The thickness of him buried around your tight walls sends a blissful sensation of yourself stretching around him, your mouth hangs slightly open while your eyes flutter.
Harry doesn’t take the chance to tease you anymore, instead he slips all of himself inside of you before drawing back slowly and sinking into your dripping pussy. His head leaning down to lay in the crook of your neck and press kisses against the skin there, while he continue to peel his hips back and dive back into you.
“Pussy feels so good,” Harry grunts into your ear as he begins to pick up the pace and smack his hips against yours.
Your eyes peel open and let your hands rest along his ribs, your head knocked back into the pillows and gaze caught between the loose ringlets of his curls and the popcorn ceiling, as the sound of the wetness between your legs is accompanied by the slamming of his hips fills the room. You couldn’t remember the last time you had mind blowing sex like this, it must be months now. But, the wait was definitely worth it, because the feeling of Harry’s dick diving into you while his grunts and moans filled your ear was something that you wanted to last forever.
Yet, you still couldn’t believe it was him doing this to you. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this. The man you’re suppose to hate is filling your walls and captivating every cell in your body to fall under his spell.
“You fill me up so—“ You’re words being cut off when you feel Harry pull himself out until his head is breached and thrust back into you, the motions repeating themselves which only makes your mouth hang open and your nails sink into his skin.
Completely cut off guard by the change of his rhythm, you were starstruck. Your eyes fluttering close and letting him do absolutely whatever he wanted to you, just accepting the fact that he was digging into you so deliciously that you had no words to express what you were feeling.
The smell of rum and cherry fills your nose as you feel his lips link with you, his mouth moaning when your tongues lock together, hips never stopping their tantalizing movements. The feeling of him filling up your pussy with his thickness, the way you managed to become more wet by the different flow of his hips, the way his body heat covered you like a blanket.
The familiar feeling of your climax welcomes you again as Harry keeps on thrusting himself inside of you. The ball in your stomach, unraveling with each stroke only making your thighs clench tighter and pull him into you more.
“Mhm… you like me fucking you?” Harry breathes against your lips only making you cry out in frustration as you feel yourself beginning to come apart underneath him, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this is only bringing it on even more.
You nodded your head silently, eyes fluttering open to peer into his olive ones while his bushy eyebrows were knit together.
“Answer me,” He continues his hand that was by your head wrapping around your throat and you knew just by the feeling of his fingers against the skin there, you were done.
“Yes,” You cried out, eyes never tearing away as you felt the bundle of nerves in your stomach burn inside you. Your legs shaking, thighs wrapping tighter around him and nails now dragging down his sides tiredly as the feeling of pure euphoria washes over you.
Harry thrusts however never slowed down, he kept the rhythm while staring down at you, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he watched your face go through phases of pleasure. Your fingers leave his back and trail to his neck, legs hanging loosely around him while you stare back up at him, the beating in your heart slowing down compared to the way it was erratically beating before.
“You’re so hot when you come all over me,” He mutters, his head dipping down and now sucking bruises onto your skin. Butterflies spread in your stomach and to stop a smile from forming you bite the inside of your cheek.
His hips begin to slow, breath blowing over you shallowly and the feeling of him sliding between your walls steadily, only making you crane your neck to the side to get him to look at you. Harry tears his head away from your neck, his lips stuck between his teeth and brows still furrowed.
“Fuck,” He grunts, the feeling of him buried in your heat immediately withdrawn as his warm seed spills on your stomach. You watch his chest heave up and down as he regains his breath. Soon, the warmth of him leaves your body as you watch him sit back on his knees, his arm reaching over to his discarded shirt you once wore and wiping away the fluid.
“Seems like you just make a mess everywhere you go,” You remark, that only makes Harry let out a small laugh before tossing his shirt on the floor. He tugs his boxers over his hips and kicks the rest of his jeans off, you let yourself slip into the sheets while he lies next you.
The room grows quiet, the only sound being heard is the party downstairs. Now your thoughts run wild, you’ve sobered up a bit but still in a daze, wondering if Harry is regretting what just happened.
“Are you going to go back to hating me after this?” Harry asked, his voice deep as he turned to look you.
Fingers twisting together, you let your gaze turn away from him and look at the sheets before you. If you were being honest, you were more confused then anything about what this meant and how you felt towards him now; you couldn’t explain how you felt, still stuck between the way he treated just hours before to how he made you feel just minutes ago, how can you explain what you feel?
“You’ll just have to wait and see…”
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles smut#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#smuttyaf#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles imagine#hs#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fluff#harry styles fandom#harry styles fic rec#frat boy harry#fratboy!harry
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A Return~Virgil Van Dijk
Wearning: +18,smut
Request: yes!
The sun was setting behind the hills, turning the sky orange as you and your daughter sat on the couch. The little girl, with her brown curls loose, giggled as you stroked her hair, but inside you felt a knot in your stomach. Virgil was thirty minutes late. It wasn’t new, but it infuriated you every time.
“When’s daddy coming?” your daughter asked, looking up at you with those big, innocent eyes.
“Soon, honey,” you lied softly.
As you tried to hide your frustration, a sharp knock on the door made you jump. It wasn’t the gentle sound of someone knocking politely. It was a firm knock, almost impatient. You stood up, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, and went to answer the door.
Virgil Van Dijk was there, with that imposing presence and charm that had once made you lose your mind. His dark eyes were studying you, but they were cold, distant. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and his familiar scent, a mix of wood and spice, hit you like a punch in the gut.
"Hey," he said, barely a whisper. No apology. No explanation.
Behind him, a red Mustang convertible gleamed in the sunset light.
You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest.
"You're late, Virgil."
He raised an eyebrow, as if it didn't concern him in the slightest.
"It's not a problem, is it?" he said in that calm, almost mocking voice.
"It is when our daughter waits for you for half an hour."
Virgil's eyes moved past you, to the little girl who was watching from the doorway with a confused expression.
"Hi, baby," he said, smiling slightly.
The little girl ran up to him eagerly. "Daddy!"
The sight broke your heart. How could he be so cold to you, but so sweet to her?
He picked her up in his arms and kissed her cheek, then turned to you.
"Can I carry her now?"
"love go to the kitchen for a second I have to talk to your father" you say to the little girl and she nods
"Okay mommy", he said happily, leaving you alone. He lets out another smirk as he looks down on you.
"What?" he said, his arms still crossed over his chest.
you walk closer to him "don't give me that look you know what I want to say"
he responds with a chuckle, his smirk not fading from his face.
"yeah I know." he said, his voice lowering slightly as you walked closer to him. "what do you want?"
"stop acting like that and take responsibility" you say angrily
he rolls his eyes, annoyed.
"here we go again", he said, leaning against the door frame. "it's always the same with you. And what exactly am I supposed to take responsibility for?"
you look at him in shock and move closer to him "are you seriously asking me that?" you ask angrily
his smirk fades with your answer. His irritation is now written all over his face. He lets out a huff as he looks at you.
"Of course I'm asking. I've done a lot more than you ever have." he snapped, towering over you.
you look at him in shock "oh really? and what would you have done?"
he looks at you with narrowed eyes, leaning in closer. His chest is inches away from touching you.
"I was the only one who took care of our daughter. Since we got divorced, all you did was-" he pauses, taking a breath and calming down. "I was the only one who supported her financially while you were away partying somewhere."
you look at him in shock "Don't make me look like something I'm not" you whisper angrily as you lean closer to him and you were so close
he stiffens as you get closer to him, your bodies almost touching. His gaze darkens as you get closer.
"Oh really? So tell me, what did you do then?" he said softly, lowering his head to bring his face closer to yours.
you glare at him "I take care of her, I feed her, I comfort her which you don't do" you raise your toes to get closer to his face to throw these things back at him
His jaw tightens, he clearly doesn't like what you're saying about him. He leaned in too, his breathing getting heavier as his eyes flashed.
"Bullshit. I take care of her," he snapped, his hands clenched into fists. Suddenly he put his hands on your waist, squeezing them tightly. "But at least I was the one who was actually there for her. You were too busy with parties and men to even worry about her."
"oh now I'm the one who attends the parties?" you look at him and Virgil looks at your lips
He looks down at your hands resting on his chest, as he moves even closer to you. He swallows, trying to hold it in.
“It felt like you were in on it. Especially with that bartender last week,” he says, conjuring up an old memory and holding you tighter.
“We broke up before,” you whisper, and he leans in to your lips.
“Not officially,” he says, still not letting go of the memory so easily.
He leans his face closer to yours, stopping with his lips inches from yours.
“You were mine.” He says, his voice barely a whisper. “At least you were then.”
You look at him, trying not to give in, but Virgil kisses you and picks you up, carrying you to the couch. The kiss was fiery, passionate, and held all the feelings you’ve left unsaid.
He lifts you up and places you on the couch, balanced on top of you. He leans down, hands on either side of your head as he looks down on you.
He takes a moment, admiring the view from above. He smirks, shaking his head slightly.
"God, you look so good like this," he said softly, his eyes wandering over your body.
Virgil begins to kiss your neck as you lift your dress and remove your panties. "Always so sexy," Virgil murmurs near your neck. He kisses it softly, before biting and sucking on it. He moans, and the feeling of your soft skin under his lips sends shivers down his spine.
"You're killing me, you know. This damn dress." he says, his hand stroking your bare thigh.
You moan and watch as he pulls down his jeans and boxers and enters you. You both moan as he adjusts his thick cock inside you.
"Always so fucking tight," he moans softly and pushes hard, not caring about going slow.
He moans when he feels you around him, closing his eyes and gripping your hips tightly with his hands. He lowers his head, resting it in the crook of your neck. He takes a moment, trying to calm himself.
"God, you feel so good. I've missed you so much." he murmurs and starts to push himself hard inside you again making you moan loudly.
"Virgil" you moan as you scratch his back and he moans loudly pushing himself animalistically inside you.
"Look at how you take your ex's cock, you like it yes, she was always good for me" he murmurs nibbling on your neck and you moan.
He lifts his head and looks down at you. He watches you intently, his eyes filled with desire and need.
“Holy shit, I won’t last long here,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips as he looked down between the two of you. “You’re too damn good.”
You moan and arch up before cupping his face and kissing it. It was a sloppy kiss with tongues clashing. You moaned into the kiss as Virgil pushed himself deeper into you.
His hands grip your hips, moving you in time with his thrusts. He breaks the kiss, panting against your lips.
“Fuck, I’m close.” He said, his face scrunched up in the overwhelming pleasure.
You moan and cling to him. “Me too, baby,” you whisper, moaning.
He moans at your words, his hips now moving sporadically, the pleasure becoming too much.
"F-Fuck. Baby, I'm gonna-" he cuts himself off, throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan as he pushes his hips harder, pounding into you and you moan, cumming all over his cock.
He groans at the way you're squeezing his cock and cums inside you. Virgil rides his release, his body tensing against you. He rests his head against your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.
"You're going to be the death of me," he says, lifting his head to look at you. He lifts a hand to caress your face and his eyes scan your twitching body.
"I love you so much, do you know that?" he whispers. You sigh and caress his face, "yes."
He leans into your touch, smiling as you caress his face. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off you and laying next to you. He places an arm over your waist and pulls you closer to him.
“let's give it another chance” you whisper and Virgil smiled.
He looks down at you, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. "You mean that?" he said, still not entirely believing it.
He brings one of his hands up to move a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers gentle against your skin.
You nod.He grins in response, the smile growing wider."I'm gonna do this right this time. I promise." he says, pulling you against his chest and wrapping his arms around you.
Hearing his words you smile and hug him. He holds you against his chest, relishing in the feeling of you in his arms.
He rests his chin atop your head, a content sigh leaving his lips. "I missed this. I missed having you in my arms." he said, pulling you closer.
“me too,” you whisper softly.
He smiles, running a hand through your hair. "I'm really sorry for how I acted before. I was an idiot. I should've tried to fix things instead of just blowing them away." he said, leaning a bit down to look at you.
“it’s ok” you whisper caressing his back. "now you're here."He smiles, his eyes closing as he feels your fingers run along his back.
"Yeah, I'm here." he said, holding you tighter against his chest. "I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. I swear."
A comfortable silence wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket, his steady heartbeat syncing with yours as you lay together. His arms, strong and protective, held you as if afraid you'd slip away, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe him.
Your fingers traced lazy patterns along his back, lingering on old scars and familiar curves. Each touch was a quiet reassurance — a promise spoken without words.
"You don’t have to swear," you murmured, your voice soft but sure. "I believe you."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. But all he found was trust — fragile, yes, but real. His lips curved into a tender smile, one that melted the walls you had built.
"I missed you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible."
You nodded, your forehead resting against his. "I missed you too. But you’re here now. That’s all that matters."
He kissed you then — slow, deliberate, and full of everything words couldn’t express. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was an unspoken vow. A promise of forever.
As he settled back into the embrace, holding you close like you were his entire world, you closed your eyes and let yourself breathe. The storm was over.
He was home.
#virgil van dijk#virgil van dijk smut#liverpool fc#smut imagine#footballer fanfic#sexy footballers#footballer x y/n#footballer x reader#footballer x you#footballer imagine#football x you#football x y/n#football x oc#football x reader#hot footballers#football#football blurb#short imagine#football fanfic#football imagine#football one shot#football fic#football fluff#football smut
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hi!! could I possibly request something with Eddie or Steve with their chronically ill gf? I have POTS and although I don't full on faint, I get super fainty often and can lose my vision a little sometimes from that, and I think it would be cute to see how either boys would be with a partner like that (IF NOT THAT'S TOTALLY OKAY, THIS IS A VERY SELF INDULGENT REQUEST)
i tried to make this more general since i don't personally have pots, but it ended up being very self-indulgent bc i do get fainting spells quite often so enjoy hahah :D — the one where eddie munson is a very panicky caregiver (established relationship, hurt/comfort | 1.2k)
bug's summer fic fest (ꈍᴗꈍ)
The hottest day of the season weighs heavily upon you. The golden hour sunlight and sticky summer air seep into your bones, sucking all the energy from your already tired body. You feel a bit like a vampire now — a withering thing wasting away in the center of Eddie Munson’s bed, with nothing but a clicking fan beside you blowing hot air around the room.
Eddie seems largely unfazed by the summer weather despite his metalhead qualities, which should otherwise clash with the heat.
He’s shed his leather jacket for the first time all year. The thrifted t-shirt he wears below it leaves his pale, tattoed arms on display. You can see the tendons in them pulsing every time he strums lazily at his acoustic guitar. His wild curls, more untamed than usual in such humidity, are pulled out of his face with one of your hair ties. A few stubborn strands stick to his face still — now a darker shade of brown, going damp from the sweat beading on his jaw and forehead.
You watch him tilt his head back to shake his bangs from his eyes, then smile to yourself when the attempt proves fruitless. His hair’s grown much too long now — enough to be perpetually frustrating. Not that Eddie cares to acknowledge it, anyway.
“I think it’s time for a haircut, Eds,” you try to tease, though the words come out strangely heavy on your tongue. They sound lightyears away as they spill from your mouth, and the thought alone makes you dizzy. Dizzier.
Eddie’s face, glimmering and softly flushed, screws in a boyish pout. “Don’t say that. You know I hate that word.”
“Look at your bangs, Eds! They’re way too long—”
The mattress squeaks softly under your weight when you go to reach for him. You’re barely able to sit upright without your head spinning. It’s like you blink once, and suddenly you’re underwater — vision blurry, ears ringing, the world swimming with various indistinct shapes.
You squeeze your eyes shut and sit back again.
It takes Eddie a moment too long to notice.
“No, they’re not— See?” He pauses his strumming to muss at his curls. His ringed fingers tousle his already frizzy bangs to get them out of his eyes. He smiles all cheeky at you then, as he glances at you over his shoulder. His smile ebbs at the twisted look on your face. “Hey… You okay?”
“Yeah,” you answer immediately, though the pinched look to your features never wavers.
“Okay. Yeah,” Eddie nods. “But… Are you?”
You squeeze your eyes shut until it hurts — until blue and white stars start to twinkle in the nothingness. But even in the quote-unquote nothingness, you can still feel the world spinning around you. It’s like you’re on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean, swaying in time with the rocky tides even though you’re sitting still. The notion makes your swimmy head spin.
“Yeah,” you repeat, pitched higher this time as you dig your palms into your eye sockets. A feeble attempt to ease the dizziness. “I just— I just got a little dizzy all of a sudden. But I’m fine.”
Eddie starts reeling immediately. “Shit. Are you… Are you gonna pass out?” he stammers and rises suddenly from the bed. He leaves his guitar at his feet as he rushes to you. The mattress bounces under you and makes you feel sicker. His panicking makes you feel sicker, too.
“I don’t think so,” you answer, voice quiet and faraway.
“You don’t think so?” Eddie echoes as he looms at your side.
You can’t see him, but you know he’s there. You can feel his shadow and the heat radiating from his lanky form. His ringed hands sit awkwardly out in front of him, aching to comfort you but frightened of making it worse.
“Do you— Do you want me to do something? Do you need me to get you anything? Like… Like a glass of water or—”
“Eds. I’m fine,” you interject a bit too firmly for your poorly state. “It’ll pass, just… Just sit down.”
“I can’t,” he squirms. “You’re makin’ me nervous, babe.”
“Standing on top of me isn’t helping, Eds.”
The boy sits gingerly at your side, then. He doesn’t move a muscle as he waits for you to tell him what to do. Obedient but hardly patient. He tries not to fidget too much, lest he add to your unease, but he buzzes with worry in the meantime. He watches with his heart in his throat as you finally take your hands from your face.
His wide, chocolate eyes dart over your pallid features. “You okay?” he whispers.
“Mhm,” you hum in the affirmative, though you haven’t yet tried to open your eyes.
The mattress feels less like a wobbling water bed now, but you’re still scared of what the world will look like — if everything will be slightly askew or flipped upside down entirely.
“Can you try to look at me?” the boy presses gently.
You peek one eye open and turn your chin to look at him. The subtle movement ends up being an obvious mistake. “Fuck,” you curse in a quiet murmur, shutting your eyes when the world goes staticky again.
“Don’t move so fast, babe. You’ll pass out,” Eddie chuckles despite the panicked ache in his chest.
He moves slowly so as not to jostle you too much — lifting his arm to rest over your shoulder and pulling you very carefully to his chest. His free hand covers your eyes and rests over your temple. He squishes his cheek against your hair.
The humidity doesn’t often allow for such contact, but the heat isn’t nearly as strong as Eddie Munson’s love for you. He holds you close in spite of the slightly agonizing way your skin sticks together, fully content to melt with you completely.
“‘M not gonna pass out,” you murmur, words sitting heavy in your mouth.
“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs. “‘Cause slurring your words like you’re drunk all of a sudden is real convincing, sweetheart.”
“M fine,” you insist anyway.
“Yeah?”
“Well, the world’s not spinning anymore, at least.”
“Good,” Eddie hums, smacking a chaste kiss to your head. “Lay down for me, alright? I wanna get you some water. And maybe something salty. That shit’s supposed to help, isn’t it?”
You whine in protest when he starts to move. Less because of how faint you are, and more because of how little you want him to leave.
“No. Later. Don’t move,” you grouse.
“I gotta make sure you’re alright, babe,” the boy laughs through the warmth blooming in his chest, a sparkling sort of pride perhaps, as you curl further into his side.
“I’m fine right now,” you mumble tiredly. “But if you stop holdin’ me like this, I won’t be.”
“Ah, right…” Eddie sighs in defeat. “Guess I’m stuck here then, huh?”
You nod slowly, cheek rubbing along the cotton fabric of his shirt. “Mhm.”
He smiles softly to himself, wider than he usually allows, ‘cause there’s nothing metal about being a lovesick puppy. But, in truth, he’s happy to be stuck here with you — even with your swimmy head and humid air and clicking desk fan that’s hardly working now. The circumstances a mildly inconvenient, sure, but he’d take a billion inconvenient circumstances if it meant getting to be with you.
Lovesick puppy, indeed.
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things x reader#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble#event: summer fic fest '24
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Coffee and Other Things
DI!SingleDad!Leon X F!Teacher!Reader
Summary: you and Leon have a lil lunch date, but he just can't keep his hands to himself
Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, p in v, brief fingering, choking, hair pulling, riding, car sex, semi public sex, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, age gap, foul language
WC: 4.1k lol I can't write short things
A/N: lol omg I wrote 2 things in a month?? Woah witchcraft. Yeah yall thought I abandoned this series. Well kind of. I was very unmotivated to write for it but idk I was like fuck it why not, this has been sitting my drafts since September soo. I will warn yall that this is not going to be a constant thing. I'll update when I have inspiration to write for it, so it'll probably be sporadic, but I hope yall enjoy it the same.
If you'd like to keep up with this series (or any of my works) follow @midnightreadinglibrary for updates since I no longer have a tag list and turn on notifications, don't worry, I'll only reblog my written works there
Universe masterlist
God was it hot out here. It was inhumane that's what this was. If there was one thing you hated in this world was having to stand outside in eighty degrees in the summer or thirty degrees in the winter. Right now it was the former, or close to it, anyway. May sure seemed to think so. But the sun burning on your back this early in the morning was not helping. You were praying to the Gods to save you now because this cardigan was going to be the death of you.
You counted the tiny heads standing in line— as best as seven year-olds could anyway. You were missing one chocolate brown-haired head. Weird. Leon hadn't mentioned not bringing Isabella to school today.
You looked at your wristwatch, three minutes before you had to take your kids inside. You sighed softly, folding your arms over your chest as you kept an eye on your kids, but you also kept some attention ahead, in case you maybe saw that pair that in a matter of weeks had become such an important part of your life. Even if Izzy didn't realize it yet.
But you stood corrected. Your lips curved up at the sight of a tiny Isabella, pigtails and all dragging her leather jacket wearing dad across the playground. He had her tiny lilac backpack hanging from one shoulder and her Rapunzel lunch box hung from his free hand. This was the first time you had actually seen Leon drop her off. Claire— who you had learned was a close friend of Leon's for many years now— would normally drop her off, or Izzy would come strolling into your classroom after drop off so you wouldn't see him either way. And now that you were seeing this for the first time, you couldn't hold in your laughter.
"I told you I was going to be late!" The little girl fussed as she dragged him. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily as he wondered what the hell he was raising. "Aunt Claire is never late."
"Yeah, well your daddy got—" shot at last night by the mercenaries of a deranged scientist. Leon bit his tongue and he shook his head at himself. "I got home late. Sorry, I'll try not to be late next time."
Izzy turned her head to look at him, lips pulled up into a tiny smile now. "It's okay daddy. You'll do better next time."
She stopped at the end of the line, and he stopped with her. His eyes instantly landed on you at the very front. His eyebrows irked up and his lips curled up, he didn't think he'd actually see you this morning. Fuck, how was it that you looked prettier every time he saw you? He took his eyes away from you to look at Izzy. He crouched down to her height, shrugging her backpack off his shoulder to hand it to her. She happily strapped it over her shoulders and took her lunch box as well.
"Eat some okay? I know I'm not the best cook but a sandwich and some fruit can't be too bad right?" She nodded eagerly, just happy that her dad had made her lunch. She was about to run off to her friends but he called her back. "Isabella. C'mere for a sec. Listen, I'm picking you up after school, okay? So think where you want to go eat and we'll get ice cream after, yeah?"
The way his little girl's eyes lit up at his words was better than anything else in this world. Nothing could ever top that. She threw herself around his neck and he couldn't help but smile a bit.
"Thank you daddy!"
"Yeah. Love you bee." He rubbed her back softly, pressing a kiss to the side of her hair before he motioned his hand at her. "Okay, go on. Go say hi to your friends."
Izzy happily ran off, saying a 'Love you!' over her shoulder before she squeezed her way into the line where her girl friends were also standing.
You couldn't quite hear their exchange, all you could hear was Izzy saying I love you to her dad, but that alone was enough to melt your heart. Your eyes found Leon's and you couldn't help but smile. You watched as he stood to his full height, and the look in his eyes all but called you over to him. You chewed on the inside of your cheek softly as you nudged your friend, Emily— the other second grade teacher standing on the line marked next to you.
"Hey, can you watch my kids for a sec?" You bit your lip and gave her a sheepish look. She looked at you with a confused frown but then her lips parted in realization when she saw Leon.
"For that? I'd watch your kids the rest of the day. Go girl." She said quietly and nudged you away.
You laughed softly at her and made your way over to Leon as casually as you possibly could. It was normal for teachers to talk to their parents for casual conversation, right?
"Hey Miss. How's it going?" He was really good at pretending to be cordial, you give him that. He stood at least a foot away from you, his hands shoved into his pockets, but his eyes were anything but innocent as they looked you over.
"Hi Leon. I see that you brought Izzy today?" You said, arms folded over your chest as you tried to not be so obvious.
"Yeah. I wasn't home last night when she went to bed, so I figured I'd make it up by dropping her off." He shrugged, but his nose twitched a bit as he remembered the mess of this morning. "Though, I have a feeling neither of us are used to it. She kept saying I was doing this and that wrong, that I was driving too fast, that her left ponytail was too tight. That her right was too high. I'm wondering where she gets all that attitude from."
You couldn't help but laugh at him. So much so you had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand. He clearly didn't see the humor in it and he narrowed his eyes at you.
"I'm sorry, but I can't help it. She totally gets it from you." You snorted as you remembered the first day you met. You had never met someone so grumpy and with so much attitude. It was part of his charm, you guessed.
"I'm offended." He gave you a pointed look and shook his head. You shrugged at him, hiding your smile behind your lips. But he had a tiny smile of his own. He looked around him for a second before he leaned down to speak to you. Nothing too scandalous, but his cologne was definitely intoxicating you now. "Listen, I have some free time today so, you wanna get lunch? I'm guessing you have lunch time."
"I…" You laughed softly, a soft heat creeping up your cheeks at his proposal. "Yeah I have a lunch. I got forty-five minutes at eleven thirty. Pick me up?"
"Yeah. Yeah, of course. It's a date then." His lips curled up a bit, he hadn't actually ever said that out loud. It sounded nice. A date. With you.
"It's a date." You said quietly, repeating it to yourself, almost as if you had to say it to believe it.
Sure, you've had two successful dates with Leon, and you didn't even have to get started on how good your chemistry was. But you were still cautious. Dating hadn't exactly been kind to you and Leon just seemed way too good to be true. You had honestly just expected him to ghost you at some point.
But you were so glad you were wrong.
~~~~
"Leon—" You scolded him, but the words leaving your mouth didn't match your hands. You gripped him closer, your fingers clinging to his button down shirt. He only hummed in question. "Leon, c'mon stop that. I only have like twenty minutes."
You didn't actually want him to stop. Not really. His lips on your neck, licking and lightly sucking at every spot that made you shudder. You sat on his lap, straddling him on the front seat of his Jeep Wrangler. You weren't quite sure how you ended here. One minute you had been sitting with Leon, drinking coffee and eating some cream cheese bagels, talking about your job, his job, his kid, a little bit of everything, laughing and joking for what felt like hours. And then you were here, at an empty parking lot, in broad daylight.
This was such a bad idea. But the way his lips kissed you and the way his growing hard on brushed against your clothed clit was way too good to say no.
"Twenty? Fine. I can make you come in five." He breathed into your ear, his hands running up your bare thighs, scrunching up your dress to your hips.
His words alone made you want to come then and there. You breathed out a shaky sigh, eyes closed as you tried to argue that this was a horrible, horrible idea. You were more sensible than this. His hands found your ass, and he squeezed, making you squirm on his lap. Which only made him harder against his jeans.
"C'mon. Promise I won't go so hard this time." He brushed his lips under your jaw, slightly lifting his hips to make the front of his jeans brush you some more. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please."
Fuck, the way he sounded begging, begging to fuck you. You didn't need much convincing, but that? That made you pool into your panties.
"No hickeys, and no bruises," You muttered, remembering you had to wear scarfs in this heat for days to cover the marks his fingers left. Leon smirked a bit at this. "I'm serious. I've never had to cover up bruises before you."
Leon dug his teeth into his bottom lip, leaning back to look at you as one of his hands sneaked under your dress and he kept his eyes on you as he rubbed his thumb over your clit through your panties.
"I won't bruise you this time." His lips curled up into a satisfied grin when your lips fell open into a silent moan. "I gotta say though, your neck looked so pretty with my fingers all over it."
He sat up, his free hand pulling you to him by the back of your neck and his lips crashed against yours harshly. He happily took in the moan that left your throat as he thumbed at your clit. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning softly when your fingers threaded his hair.
He held you against his mouth, his thumb on your clit for what felt like years, you honestly worried you had run out of time. But in reality only a minute had passed. He let go of your head to blindly reach for the console. He groaned softly as he touched around for a second, but ultimately had to pull away to look. He found his wallet, he dug through it with urgency before he tossed it on the passenger's seat.
Your eyes landed on the golden wrapper and you frowned at him.
"You do remember you came inside last time, right?" You asked with genuine confusion and he could only laugh in response.
He pressed a hard kiss to your lips before he replied. "I remember. Trust me, I remember. But unless you wanted to sit with my come inside you for the rest of the day. Figured this was best."
Your face heated up with embarrassment and you let out a soft laugh, Leon could only watch you with amusement.
"Were you hoping to get laid then?" You laughed softly and he only shrugged in response, his eyes never leaving you as he unbuckled his belt.
"I was hopeful. I was kinda hoping you missed me enough." He chuckled, now watching as you reached your hand to unbutton his shirt. He sucked in a sharp breath when you leaned down to press your lips to his neck.
"I did." A playful smile fell on your lips as your lips trailed further down. He let out a pleasured sigh that quickly turned into a pained grunt when your lips touched a particular spot below his collarbone.
“Hmph… Careful baby.”
You pulled back with furrowed eyebrows as you tugged his shirt aside just enough to see a purple forming on his pale skin, but it looked like a burn almost, a circle with an angry marking.
“What.. What is that? Are you okay?”
He found the concern in your voice endearing.
“I got shot last night during an assignment. But I'm here, aren't I? I'm fine.” He tried to say it as casually as possible, he looked at you with unwavering calmness, you were anything but.
“You got what?” You almost shouted, it definitely caught him off guard. You swallowed hard as you placed your hands on his chest, almost as if you needed to feel that he was okay.
“It caught my vest. But it still leaves a bruise. It hurts for a day or two. But I'm perfectly fine.” He knew you weren't convinced, your furrowed eyebrows and tight lips said as much. He sighed, “Can we not.. Do this right now? Please?”
“Yeah.. Okay.” You still weren't entirely convinced but God were you having a hard time being worried when you could feel him against you. You could yell at him later.
He gave you a small smile before he kissed you again, not wanting to waste any more time. He was quick to lift you up enough to pull down your panties and tossed them on the passenger's seat. And fuck, the look he gave you when he pulled away was enough to make you soak his jeans, you were sure if it, anyway. His eyes never left you as he spat on his fingers. He needed to watch your face when his fingers touched your clit. And what a sight that was.
“Oh, you sweet girl,” He taunted, rubbing slow circles on your clit. He parted his lips to match the silent moan you let out, but the look on your pretty face was priceless. “Already so wet for me, hm?”
All you could do was nod, heated and already breathless with adrenaline. But you couldn't hold back the cry that left your mouth when he slipped his fingers into your wet hole. Your head fell back slightly as you reached to grip his shoulder, just any part of him really. He watched your face carefully, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he buried his fingers to the knuckle, curling them against your most sensitive spot. His fingers worked you for what felt like hours, but in reality it was merely a minute or two. Though by then, the sound of his fingers in and out of your cunt was all he could hear. Other than the sounds leaving your mouth. But you could only take so much of this torture.
“Please Leon—” God, you sounded pathetic, the way you were so desperately grinding against his hand was equally pathetic. “Need you.”
Leon was a simple man. If his girl wanted to be fucked he had to comply. There wasn't anything else to it.
His fingers left you empty in an instant, and you couldn't help but whine at the loss, but you knew you'd get something better soon enough.
“Do me a favor, darling,” he grabbed your hand and placed it right where his cock was straining against his jeans. You swallowed hard, your chest still rising as you looked at him with big eyes. “Help me here, hm?”
It took you a second to process his words, maybe you were already cock drunk just on the thought of it. But your shaky hands eventually unzipped his jeans and pulled him out of the confines of his boxers. The sigh Leon let out was almost primal as he messed around with his smart watch. You couldn't quite understand what he was doing but you didn't exactly have the mental capacity to think when his cock was right there.
“Go on baby, I'm almost done here. You can ride me, can't you?” His words were almost mocking as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Your mouth was slightly open as you ran your tongue over your dry lips.
“I.. I—Yes.” You responded quietly as you slipped the condom on him. Leon sucked in a sharp breath but said nothing as he watched you lean forward, and slowly sank down on his cock.
Leon leaned back, his lips falling open as you sat on his cock. He swallowed hard, and it took him the very little control he still had left not to force you on his cock. But alas he let you take your time. His hands were tight on your hips as if to encourage you. And it took you a second to adjust but you ultimately lifted yourself before slamming back down on his cock, over and over until you were bouncing on him like that was all you were meant to do in this world.
“Shit Leon, you feel so—” you were sure you sounded absolutely pathetic, your words broken in between moans as you leaned back until your back touched the steering wheel.
Christ, Leon sure was loving this sight.
He adjusted himself under you so that he could ever so slightly lift his hips to meet with yours. He particularly loved this sight because God, this dress, it was so perfect on you. The V cut was low enough for him to see your neck and collarbone perfectly, but of course your entire chest was covered. Unless he pulled the front down..
“Fuck, feels so good, I know baby.” He breathed out, watching you through hooded eyes as his hands moved up to your chest, and he pulled the material down enough so that your bra was exposed. He groaned, and it was almost animalistic. “Take this off. Take it off, please.”
Please.
God.
Leon definitely felt the way you squeezed around his cock right then. You kept your grip on his shoulder with one hand as you somehow reached behind you with the other and unclasped your bra with the other. Leon fumbled around with the sleeves of your dress until those were off your shoulders. And the second your bra was out of the way, he grabbed a handful of both of your breasts with both of his hands. And he fucking moaned.
“Goddamn, you look so pretty like this.” His eyes traveled from where his hands were grabbing at your bare chest, to your exposed neck with your head thrown back as you so desperately fucked yourself on him. He didn't even care about the mess you were most likely leaving on his jeans. “Look at you, using my cock like you fucking own it. Fuck.”
Even in your delirium, this brought a smile to your face and you were sitting up to look at him. You brought a hand to his face, the sound of his grunts and moans were in your ear and the completely pussy drunk look on his face made you want to come right then and there.
“Say that again. Please, say it again.” Your words were slurred, breathless as you so desperately chased your release. Leon bit his lip softly, sitting up to meet you halfway. With a tight grip on your ass, he lifted his hips to thrust into you with intensity as if to prove a point.
“Yes darling, you can fuck yourself on this cock all you want ‘cause it's all yours.” His lips were on your jaw as his free hand held you by the back of your neck.
You dug your nails into his chest, surely to leave marks as you closed your eyes. Your heart was pounding, skin burning hot to the touch as he held you, each drag of his cock brushing deliciously against that perfect spot. You were so close.
“Choke me, please.” You pleaded barely above a whisper, nothing short of a whine. And the moan Leon let out at your request was by far the most erotic thing you will ever hear.
He ran his tongue over his lips as he brought his hand to your neck and wrapped his fingers around your throat. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but it definitely was tight enough for you to see white. The lack of blood flow mixed with the tight feeling in your stomach. You could only take so much.
“Oh my— Fuck. I—” Words were no longer something you knew by then, you were grinding your hips so desperately, and the way you were squeezing his cock, he had quickly learned meant you were so close.
“Mhmm just like that pretty, come for me, I know you can do that.” His thumb found your swollen clit as he held your throat and he watched with big eyes as your mouth fell open. Leon let out a soft moan that mimicked the one leaving your throat as you squeezed him tightly. Too bad he couldn't actually feel you come on his cock this time. “That's a good fucking girl. Yeah, atta girl.”
He gripped the side of his seat as he drilled into you, lifting you on and off his cock as he fucked you through you release, and chased his own, of course. You pressed your forehead against his, soft whines leaving your lips at the overstimulation of his jeans rubbing against your clit. But you could hear his soft moans in your ears, his soft praises as he gripped your throat with soft fingers, until he gave you a particularly deep thrust and he held you down on him. The string of curses leaving his mouth as he came were anything but coherent, but fuck did it make you wet all over again to hear him unravel like this, just for you.
“Shit. You see what you do to me?” He breathed out a laugh, his hand now cradling the back of your hair as he left kisses on your jaw.
You closed your eyes tight, breathing in deeply, taking on the smell of his expensive cologne mixed with his own scent, and Christ, it was so intoxicating. All of him was intoxicating. You hummed softly and threw your arms around his neck, leaning close to him, just craving to feel his warmth.
“Likewise… Look what you made me do.. I've never..” You swallowed hard, feeling yourself grow heated in embarrassment.
“What's that?” He pulled back ever so slightly to be able to look at your face, curious by what you meant. He softly tucked a strand of your loose hair behind your ear when he noticed your flustered face. How he could be so gentle and tender after absolutely wrecking you was always beyond your comprehension.
“In a car.. You know? I've never..”
A tiny smile formed on his lips, “Seriously?”
“Stop. It's just! I don't know. I've never done anything risky like that. Like we could totally get arrested for this.” You almost wanted to curl up into yourself in embarrassment but Leon never let go of you, not once, he simply chuckled.
“You do know I work for the government, right?” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your embarrassment was quickly gone, to say the least. “Gotta say Miss, I am totally ruining you.”
And he was indeed. What a pretty thing you always were. And by the time he was done with you, you were a flushed, fucked out mess, your hair tousled and your dress pulled down. But he rather enjoyed seeing you like this. And the things he made you do, the things he made you feel, they were beyond this world. To think you always prided yourself in being rational.
You were about to respond with one of your remarks when an alarm on his watch went off. You jumped at the sound, panicked for a split second thinking it was the police or something, but you calmed down when you saw him lift his wrist and tapped the screen. He smiled at you with pride, and if you didn't know better you would have thought he even puffed out his chest with pride.
“Would you look at that, I did make you come in five.”
#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon smut#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#DI leon#single dad leon
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just go with it
melissa schemmenti x fem!reader
summary: reader runs into an old frenemy at the bar and enlists melissa to play her date. hidden feelings are revealed. inspired by the movie just go with it.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: alcohol (beer), swearing, old bully.
a/n: this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy <3 i think i included all the warnings but as always pls let me know if i missed anything! if u wanna be added to my taglist just lmk or fill out my form on my masterlist!
The night hadn’t exactly gone to plan, not that you were complaining. The Abbot family were supposed to be celebrating reaching the end of another quarter, even going as far as to select a bar up to Ava’s standards with extravagant cocktails and comfortable booths (but still with a generic enough dart board that Melissa would turn up). Ava had shoot down your usual place saying, “Girl, I’ve got a reputation to uphold and even entering that place would lose me 1K on Instagram,”
However things had immediately started to splinter when Gregory and Janine failed to turn up, still very much in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. And then Barbara had ordered two cocktails which had immediately gone to her head and called Gerald to come and pick her up. Jacob got a text for Avi and ducked out apologetically, Mr Johnson disappeared somewhere, and then Ava declared she couldn’t be seen dead out in only a group of three so she ditched, which meant less than two hours into the night only you and Melissa remained at the bar.
You’d initially been irritated, having looked forward to a family night out all week. But when Melissa dragged you to the dart board saying “We don’t need ‘em.”, her hand warm in yours and her smile bright. You’d suddenly forgotten every thought you’d ever had.
“Another bullseye for me!” Melissa smirks victorious, dancing as she turns around to face you. “I think that means ya owe me a drink, hon.”
You roll your eyes, but can’t bring yourself to care that deeply at the sight of the redheads joy. She seems to be having a great time, despite everyone leaving. And you’re determined to soak up every moment of this additional out-of-school Melissa time until she decides to call it a night.
It feels like a blessing, and the sight of her in a strappy leopard print top with enough cleavage to cause your brain to short circuit when she‘d first arrived definitely didn’t hurt. She looked beautiful with her red curls down past her neck, and her brown leather jacket and red high heels on. Any day now you were gonna get this raging crush under control and not look at Melissa Schemmenti and see the sun, any day…
…just not today if your traitorous heart had any say.
“Another of the same?” You ask, nodding towards her beer with a grin on your lips.
“You betcha.” She shimmies closer to you, her teeth biting into her lip. “And when youse get back we’ll have another game. If you can take the heat.”
Your face heats up and you force out a laugh to cover up how wildly attractive you find her. You push yourself off the barstool and side step her. “Uh yeah, another game sounds good. I’ll be right back.” You step back, giving her a slightly too tight smile before you run away to the bar.
So chill Y/N. Wow, excellent game. If she didn’t want you before, I bet she does now.
You groan as you approach the bar, resisting every bone in your body that wants you to slam your head very hard against the bartop to hopefully knock some sense into yourself because that was just plain embarrassing. Instead, you settle on waving down the bartender and ordering two yuengling's.
They make quick work of your order and you pay and mutter a polite, “Thanks,” before turning away with your drinks, ready to head back to Melissa. Determined to not make a complete fool of yourself this evening.
“Y/N L/N!” A shrill voice calls and your blood runs cold, “Oh my god, is that really you?”
Your eyes fall close as you blow out a breath and send a hail mary that maybe, just maybe, that voice won’t be connected to the woman you believe it to be.
Of course, life doesn’t work like that and when you open your eyes you come face to face with your old college ‘friend’. If a friend meant someone who constantly put you down and had to be better than you at all times. Suddenly the last day of college doesn’t seem long enough ago, god you could’ve gone the rest of your life without seeing this woman and that still wouldn’t have made up for the torment of the three years of friendship with her.
“Alisha, Hi.” You grimace. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“I know!” She cackles, “I’d never expect you to be somewhere this close to classy. I remember the dives you loved in college.”
Your smile tightens and you force a humourless laugh. “Well, great to see you Alisha, but I really should be getting back to-”
“No, no, no, come on we must catch up!” She interrupts. She shakes her hair performatively and presents her hand, showing off an obnoxious diamond, “I, of course, got married. My husband is here actually and you must meet him.”
“Congrats, but I really should be getting back to my-”
“I’m sure your friend won’t mind.” Alisha waves a hand.
She grabs the hand not holding the two bottles of beer, her face etched with pity. “I noticed you don’t have a wedding band. It’s okay, your time will come.”
You try to shake your hand free, but Alisha’s grip tightens. “Seriously, Y/N, not everyone can be as lucky as-”
“Hey hon, everythin’ alright?” Melissa interrupts, an obvious edge to her voice. Her hand perches on the small of your back as she gives Alisha a once over, and despite the other woman being four inches taller than her, you know Melissa could take her effortlessly.
Alisha’s eyes widen before melting into a smirk as she extends her hand, “Alisha, Y/N’s closest friend from college.”
Melissa looks at you before looking back at Alisha and scoffing, “Right.”
Alisha drops her hand, but doesn’t look disturbed, in fact she looks more excited than you’ve ever seen her, if you exclude that one house party she threw where she got the entire football team to attend and ended up sleeping with the quarterback.
More than slightly disturbed, you push the beer in Melissa’s direction, “Here, sorry.”
“Thanks, hon.” She accepts the drink, her fingers brushing yours as she does.
You watch Alisha hungrily eat up the action, and you know what’s gonna happen next before she even opens her mouth. “So, you’re Y/N’s girlfriend?”
The redhead’s eyes widen, her drink pausing on its way to her mouth. And before she can reject it, and Alisha’s face grows even more victorious in your pathetic aloneness, you jump in and answer.
“Fiancée, actually.”
You should be awarded an Emmy for the way you keep your face straight and don’t cringe as both Melissa and Alisha swing around to face you.
“I left my ring at home,” You roll your eyes. “She only popped the question recently. Haven’t quite got used to wearing it yet.”
“Really?” Alisha questions, eyes narrowing. “Well now you must join my husband and I for drinks. We can toast to the newlyweds and newly-engaged.”
She grabs your hand, pulling you away before you can protest again. You look back at Melissa, silently begging for help, but she just watches you with an arched brow and smirk before she takes a long sip from her beer and saunters after you.
Alisha doesn’t release her grip until you reach the booth in the corner of the bar. Her husband, an even taller man, presumably quite handsome if you’re into that sort of thing - but in your opinion quite boring looking - sits scrolling on his phone and nursing what looks like a whiskey sour.
“Honey, I found some friends.” She says, sitting down beside her husband. “This is my best friend from college Y/N, and her fiancée…oh,” Alisha tips her head, smiling widely “In all that excitement I didn’t get your name.”
Melissa doesn’t respond, instead signalling you to slide in the booth first so she can be on the end.
“It’s Melissa,” You respond, ignoring the redhead’s dark look for sharing her personal information.
“Traitor,” She mumbles quietly into your ear, her breath hot.
You roll your eyes, even as you struggle to breath properly. If she’d saved you when she had the chance you wouldn’t be in this situation.
“What a lovely name,” Alisha gushes, and you don’t need to turn to see Melissa’s glare.
Alisha drops her head to her husband's shoulder, who wraps his arm around her back with a boy-ish grin, “And this is my husband, Victor.”
“Ladies, nice to meet you.”
You force a smile and take a long sip from your beer.
“I was just saying to Y/N how funny it is running into her.” Alisha laughs, “We’re only in Philadelphia because the jet needed to refuel. It was not part of our plan,” She rolls her eyes, “Honestly, can you imagine living here?”
“What’s wrong with Philly?” Melissa challenges, eyes narrowing
“I’m just saying it wouldn’t be my first choice.” She waves her hand, like she hasn’t said anything offensive. “Victor and I live in California, but we’re heading to Paris because this one’s talking at a convention for dentists.”
“Wow, impressive.” You nod politely.
“You ended up here?” She asks, pity evident in her tone.
“I chose here. I love Philly. I’ve got an amazing teaching job and an amazing group of friends. It’s a really good community.” You say seriously. There were some things Alisha could make you feel insecure about, but Philly was never going to be one of them. You were happy with your life.
“And your fiancée, right?” She challenges, “How long have you been together?”
Melissa’s arm wraps around your waist and she tugs you tightly into her side. You try not to let the surprise at the action show on your face.
“Two years. Known each other for three through. She swooped in and saved me when the kids were drivin’ me mad and kinda hasn’t stopped since.”
Your heart flutters as you stare at Melissa from beneath your lashes, warmth settling in your chest. You know the exact moment she’s talking about, it’s the first time you properly met, about a month into teaching at Abbott. You’d heard the commotion coming from her classroom while your first-graders were in music class, and had popped your head next door - just to check - and found a clearly stressed out redhead trying to control a large class of second and third graders.
You’d made your way in, with a calm “How can I help?”. Melissa had just thrusted worksheets at you and pointed towards the third-graders. From then on you popped in to help whenever you had a free lesson, and if it meant staying later to catch up on lesson planning you decided it was worth it, especially as it led to one of your favourite friendships.
“You have kids?” Victor asks. “I love kids.”
“No, teacher. We work together.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Y/N was never one to have much of a social life outside of her work.” Alisha rolls her eyes, “Of course she’d have to meet her partner at her place of work too. She never had much luck when it came to dating, always so alone.” She juts out her bottom lip patronisingly.
“I dated.” You defend, “I just happened to put my studies first, which was the whole point of being at college.”
Alisha nods and takes a sip from her drink. Your eyes narrow at her. You don’t realise your hand has tightened into a fist until Melissa pulls it into her lap and begins gently caressing your knuckles, slowly coaxing it open again.
Victor’s phone rings, an obnoxious beeping sound that shocks you enough that your hand pulls away from Melissa’s. You miss the touch instantly, wanting to reach back but knowing you shouldn’t.
“Oh sorry girls, I should take this.”
“He gets lots of important calls.” Alisha supplies proudly, as she slides out of the booth to let her husband out. Melissa lifts her brows, shooting you a look of disbelief and you struggle not to laugh.
They stand together beside the table. Victor drops his forehead to Alisha’s and inhales deeply. “Your beauty, your drive, your wit.” He breathes dramatically.
Alisha hums, “Your intelligence, your thirst, your strength.”
Their nose’s rub together, and you swear your soul leaves your body as you watch them open mouthed in disbelief. You turn to Melissa whose face is screwed up in outright disgust.
Alisha sits back down, a content smile on her face. “It’s something we do whenever the other person leaves. Say what we love most about each other.”
“You really ain’t from Philly, huh?” Melissa laughs, taking a long sip from her beer.
“You guys should try it.”
“I ain’t doing-”
“I don’t think-” Melissa and you both start to say at the same time.
“Not everyone can do it.” Alisha waves.
Your eyes narrow and Melissa puts down her beer.
“You know what, we’ll do it now.” You say, determined.
Melissa smirks, eyes bright with challenge as she looks between you and Alisha. “Sure thing, hon.”
“Okay, just look into each other’s eyes and say three things you love most about each other.”
You turn to face Melissa, knee’s brushing against hers. You blow out a breath, suddenly nervous looking at her this closely. Her green eyes hold your gaze, a reassuring smile on her face and it helps you steel yourself.
“Okay. Uh, I love how much you care about the kids.” You start, easy, honest, tame. “You do so much for them, more than anyone even realises. But they love you so much. You’re a phenomenal teacher. You’ve got such a beautiful heart, even if you do try to keep it hidden.”
Melissa listens to you with soft eyes, a wet chuckle breaking from her lips.
“It’s not even just the kids. The things you do for Barbara, Janine, Me. You are extraordinary. I see how much you care, I see your kindness.” The words flow from your lips, the truth that you should probably keep hidden.
She scoffs, shaking her head, “I ain’t that soft.”
“I love how safe you make me feel.” Your breath shakes as Melissa’s eyes widen. God too much, too honest, but maybe she’ll just think you’re selling the lie and won’t know just how true every word coming from your lips is.
“Whenever something happens you’re the person I want to find. And you just know how to make it better. Before you, I never needed someone else, but now I literally…I just, I don’t know, I gravitate towards you. When I’m with you I just know everything is going to be okay. I feel safe, like together we could take on anything.”
“I wouldn’t let anythin’ happen to you.” She smiles gently.
Your heart stutters, “And your smile, god that smile.” It makes you soar, you can’t breath as words spill from your lips, “I love it. I look forward to lunch everyday because I know I get to see that smile. Your smile starts my day, and everytime I get to see it I feel like I’m doing something right.”
She stares at you and you clear your throat, breaking your gaze. “And that's three.”
Melissa grabs your hands, her fingers stroking your knuckles, prompting your eyes to return back to hers. “My turn.”
You nod silently, unable to speak as you watch the women in front of you. Heart pounding.
“I love your company. No matter my mood, it’s good. You’re just nice to have around. Whether I’m cookin’ for you, we’re drinkin’, or we’re stressin’ out over work. It’s fun with you.” She shrugs with a shy smile.
You grin. God your heart can’t take this. It still pounds and you can’t differentiate between truth and lie. She sounds so honest, eyes so gentle and you desperately want to fall in and believe every single word leaving her lips.
“You’re stupidly generous too and I love you for it, even if it makes me wanna hit ya sometimes.”
She rolls her eyes and you both chuckle.
“You say I have a good heart, but I watch the way you keep giving to everyone around you without expecting anythin’ in return. You’re always offering to cover a lesson or lunch shift, even though I know it means you’re staying at school later to catch up on lesson plans.”
You shift, you really hadn’t thought she’d noticed. “It’s nothing really.”
“It’s somethin’. You’re good. Like, actual good, and you don’t find that often.”
Your eyes soften, tears threatening to pool as you itch to reach out and pull her in, kiss her.
“And you know what else I love? Your eyes.” She nods, with a shining smile. “When they catch the light? Stunnin’. They are so expressive, always shining, sayin’ things even if you don’t.”
You draw in a sharp breath, eyes locked with hers. Wondering maybe if-
“I won a competition for the most beautiful eyes.” Alisha’s piercing voice interrupts. You jolt away from Melissa, having entirely forgotten about the other women’s presence.
“I’m pretty sure I’d still win if you entered. No offence, Y/N.” She laughs shrilly.
You drain the last of your beer, your chest still tight and your bearings off.
Melissa snaps. “Alright, I’m done. I dunno if your parents were too nice to you as a kid or didn’t tell you they loved you enough but either way I don’t care. You ain’t speaking to my girl like that anymore, especially if you think your ugly ass fake contacts in any way compare to her stunnin’ fuckin’ eyes.”
Alisha’s face finally falls.
“So goodbye, we’re leavin’. And you and your guy can get the hell out of Philly fast before I find someone to jack your dang car.” She grabs your hand, fingers entwined with yours and tugs you from the booth with her.
You laugh, feeling lighter the further away you get from the gobsmacked women you left behind. Melissa weaves you between people and out the bar, not letting go of your hand until you're safely outside and the door has shut behind you.
“That was…” You look at the redhead, shaking your head and grinning, your entire body buzzing. “God, I just…”
She chuckles, her hand landing on your waist. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Her other hand digs into her back pocket pulling out her phone, “I’ll call a cab.”
Your heart thunders. Your hand reaching for her chin bringing her face back to yours. She’s so close…. “You are extraordinary.”
Her cheeks pink as she tries to shrug off your touch, “Y/N,”
“No.” You breathe, bringing her back to look at you. Your gaze falls to her red painted lips, your chest tightens. And you know you could let go, step back and you’d both pretend this moment had never happened, but you don’t want to.
You want to lean in and kiss those pretty lips. Finally say fuck the point of no return. Because all the fears and risks that were keeping you from plunging in all seemed irrelevant when your body felt this alive.
It’s like you’d finally woken you and you knew you didn’t want to go another day without kissing Melissa Schemmenti.
You lean in. Melissa’s shaky breath expelling against your lips before she meets yours. Tentative at first, once, twice, three times, before her hand fists into your shirt and yours moves to her hair, and then a moan is pulled from her lips and your gone. Frantic and heated you devour each other. Her phone is roughly shoved into your back pocket so she can paw at your ass and then she’s walking you back into the wall. Her body is finally flush against yours and you gasp in delight as you drown in the sensation, unable to think clearly as you passionately kiss her.
When you finally separate, you’re both breathing heavily, foreheads resting against each other. Melissa’s lipstick is a mess, her lips swollen, and you think she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Ya mess.” She tuts affectionately, breathing still broken as she reaches out to wipe her lipstick from your lips.
“And who’s fault is that?” You chuckle, grinning like a fool.
She rolls her eyes and you want to kiss the expression off her face. You lean in to do just that, but she steps back, her eyes shifting away from you.
“Hon,” She shakes her head, finally wiping the lipstick off from around her own mouth.
A pit lands in your stomach, panic coursing through your body. No. You’ve come this close. You weren’t losing her now.
“You can’t tell me you don’t feel this too.”
She looks at you, eyes soft and pained, “‘Nd you can’t want this.”
“Did you not hear a word I said in there?” You ask incredulously. “God, Mel, all of that. Every single word. I meant that.”
“You meant it?” She questions, unsure.
You shrug, vulnerable, exposed. “Of course. How could I not? You’re the best person I've ever met.”
She scoffs, wet, stumbling forward back into your arms. “Fuck you.” She murmurs and captures your lip. You expect it to be harsh and heated, but she’s so gentle and slow, her lips tenderly moving against yours like you’re something to be treasured and if she pushes too hard you might break.
You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek lovingly when you separate. She watches you in awe, eyes so gentle and you’ve never felt so content in your life.
“I meant everythin’ too.” She confesses.
You grin and press a quick peck to her lips. “I had my suspicions.”
She rolls her eyes, “Whatever. You wanna actually get out of ‘ere?”
You laugh, “Yes, please.”
“Leftovers and beers at mine?”
You hum in delight, not missing the way Melissa’s eyes darken, her eyes dropping to your lips. “That sounds perfect. And watch something on Netflix?”
“Whatever you want, hon.” She responds, dragging her gaze away. “I’ll call a cab now.”
She takes a couple steps away, to make the call and you unashamedly watch her the entire time. Your eyes taking in her figure and lingering on her ass. Because, hey, who can blame a girl.
It was Melissa goddamn Schemmenti.
Your teeth pulling at your bottom lip, do nothing to suppress your grin.
I guess you really might have to thank everyone in Abbott for leaving tonight if this was the result.
You weren’t quite a big enough person to thank Alisha.
You would have gotten there without her.
Eventually.
taglist: @aburman03
#melissa schemmenti x reader#melissa schemmenti#abbott elementary#fem!reader#kt writes#fanfic#fanfiction#just go with it#abbott elementary fanfic#my gif#fake dating
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Summertime: Billy Hargrove One Shot
18+, explicit sexual content. Minors DNI
Word count: 3.2k
A/N: I had a request for some Bills and my writing brain has been shit lately so I’m moving over an old one shot from wattpad. @billysbot I hope this is okay for now and I’ll get to your request asap. 🤭🖤
*******
Summer. Fucking finally. The warm night air hits your face as you walk outside towards the cooler searching for something to help you relax. Parties weren’t always your favorite thing but it was a good way to kick off the summer. A nice time to relax and one of the only fun things to do here.
You check out the scene, a crowd of people around the keg stand, a group by the fire, and a few girls fighting for the attention of Steve Harrington.
He is one handsome guy. You watch as he runs his fingers through his fluffy brown hair, the girl directly in front of him reaching out to touch it, giggling flirtatiously as he gives her a sweet smile. Even after graduation, Steve always threw the best parties in Hawkins.
You suddenly hear a shout from your left as you grab yourself a beer, popping it open.
“The keg king has returned!” a guy shouts in the distance.
Tommy. You roll your eyes, the noise from the party already starting to give you a slight headache. I need more alcohol.
“Billy Hargrove, what did we do to deserve this?” another loud voice booms, followed by a laugh.
The name catches your attention and your head whips around to see him standing there with a bold smile on his face.
He looks about the same. Tight denim clinging to his muscular thighs. He turns and you catch a glimpse of his ass, his jeans showing you every curve perfectly.
That ass. You quickly finish your beer, this time reaching for the whiskey, pouring a bit into your cup before walking a little closer to all the commotion. The crowd is loud as guys and girls alike come to welcome him back.
He left last year for college along with a few others. Most of you were stuck there. Going to community college or working full-time jobs.
You had hooked up with Billy one time before he left for California. The backseat of his Camaro. You hadn't gone all the way but the things you had done were stuck in your brain since last summer. It was a night you thought about often.
He turns your way and your eyes meet his. You instantly feel your face flush and try to conceal it behind the red plastic cup, taking a large gulp.
A white t-shirt fits firmly against his body, a black leather jacket thrown on top. His sandy curls look a little more taken care of, a little smoother, one curl spiraled to perfection on his forehead.
He winks and smiles that charming smile as he squeezes through the crowd, heading your way.
Fuck me.
“There you are.” he huffs as he comes to a stop in front of you. His cologne fills your nose, the aroma immediately sending you back in time, the memory of last year clear as day.
His soft lips on yours, his fingers working you to your peak so effortlessly. It was like a dream.
“That feel good, baby?” he mumbled in your ear as his thick fingers glided in and out.
“So good, Billy.” you moaned breathlessly, your head falling back against his leather seats as he leaned over you.
He chuckled deeply, his fingers working in and out slowly before he curled them slightly, pressing into your g spot, making you bite down on your lip, a small whimper escaping.
“R-right there..” you gasped, rolling your hips, grinding on his hand. No one had ever been able to get you off before and Billy knew exactly what he was doing.
“Mmm… That's it, baby,” he murmured against your lips as your eyes fell shut.
“H-holy shit..” you moaned loudly as your thighs began to tremble. His two fingers precisely stroking across your sweet spot. His thumb moving up and down your soaked slit, brushing against your clit over and over.
You had completely lost yourself in the moment, the pleasure something you had never experienced by the hand of another.
“I can't wait to hear you cum.” he burned, his words bringing you closer and closer until you finally fell apart, your cries filling the small space in the car, Billy encouraging you to scream his name. And you did. Again and again…
Billy’s smooth voice saying your name brings you back to reality and your face reddens again. You still haven't had an orgasm like that since.
“Something on your mind?” he teases, reaching down and snagging a beer for himself.
You quickly shake your head and give him a soft smile. “Just thinking about last summer… How is school? California looks like it's treating you well.” you state sweetly, stepping slightly closer to him.
You take in every detail of his pretty face. His sun-kissed skin dusted with freckles, his long dark lashes such a contrast to his light curls, his lips plump and soft, his mustache trimmed neatly.
Now that he was here, no one else at this party could catch your eye. He was so alluring. So addictive.
Billy smiles as he pats his pockets for his smokes, pulling one out and offering it your way. You take it and place it between your lips, Billy reaches out lighting the cigarette for you before taking the flame to his own.
He inhales deeply, slowly releasing the smoke before he speaks.
“It’s been good. You know, same old shit.” he shrugs casually, his eyes stuck on you. You watch as his gaze travels from your face all the way down your body and back up, his lips curling into a smile.
You shift your feet, your Converse kicking the dirt as you feel his eyes on you. You were happy you had forced yourself into a dress tonight instead of your usual t-shirt and shorts. It was a deep red, riding high on your thighs, sculpting your body in all the right places.
“You look good, sweetheart.” he compliments, his tone warm and sugary. Another little wink in your direction making your heart speed up in your chest.
“So do you. You look really good. I like this shirt.” you gush, your hand reaching out to touch his chest. You can feel the firmness of his muscles underneath the skin-tight shirt. His body tenses under your touch as your hand slowly trails across his stomach.
“It looks better off,” he suggests playfully, his blue eyes glinting under the moonlight.
“Do you wanna swim?” you blurt out quickly, making him laugh.
“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” he teases, his hand reaching out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
“Me neither.” Your voice comes out hoarse as he looms over you.
His fingertips ghost across your thigh as you look up at him.
“Anything under this?” he whispers, his voice deep and low as he lightly tugs on the hem of your dress.
You nod, your entire body tingling from the sensation of his fingers against your skin.
“Let’s go.”
********
“You want me to swim in my underwear?” you stare at him as he begins to unbuckle his belt.
“Mhmm..” he hums lightly, shuffling out of his jeans. His jacket was next, then his shirt. Leaving him standing there in his boxer briefs, his perfect body on full display.
You cross your arms surveying the area, Only a few people were in the pool, most of the party was inside dancing or getting drunk. Billy raises an eyebrow in your direction and you bite down on your lip.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” he presses, walking closer. His hand rests on your waist, pulling you close, his body is warm against yours as his lips meet your ear.
“You weren’t shy when you were screaming my name, baby.” His breath tickles your ear, his words making you throb. His hand reaches around your back, taking your zipper in his fingers, slowly drawing it down.
“Or when you sucked my dick and swallowed every bit of my cum..” he continues, the zipper coming to a stop just above your ass. “Remember that night?” He rasps as his hand moves to your shoulder, gently pulling the strap of your dress down your arm.
“I think about it all the time.” you admit quietly as he works the other strap.
“I know you do.” he boasts, a smile playing on his lips as he pulls your dress to the concrete.
Billy’s POV
I was hoping she’d be here. Cute little thing. Sweet fucking pussy. I remember sucking her off of my fingers. And those lips.. fuck they felt good wrapped around my cock.
I can tell when I make a girl cum for the first time. It’s so gratifying. Hearing their cries, their moans, their surprise as they realize how good sex can be. There are way too many women who haven’t been pleased right. I bet she hasn’t gotten off like that since I left. But tonight, I’m gonna fuck her. Give her everything Billy Hargrove has to offer. I can’t wait to blow her fucking mind.
I watch as she kicks her dress to the side and slips out of her shoes. There are a few people on the other end of the pool, a couple making out, a few guys roughhousing.
Doesn’t matter. I’m about to make her squeal. Audience or no audience.
I reach out for her hand and her slender fingers intertwine with mine as we make our way toward the pool steps. I step down into the water, it’s a little chillier than I expected but it feels nice as we step deeper into the pool. I turn to see her with little goosebumps spread across her arms. Her nipples hard against the thin fabric of her lace bra.
She’s a fucking sight. Her perfect ass on display, her tiny panties barely hiding anything. The moonlight casts a glow across her body as you drink her in.
I’m excited to hear her cry my name again. The way she screamed just from my fingers.. Fuck, this is gonna be fun.
Her eyes shine bright as she peeks over at me. A slight smile on her face. A dark red lipstick painted on her soft lips.
Her little shy act is cute too. But she won’t be able to maintain it for long. Soon she’ll be begging me to do filthy things to her. And I’ll happily comply.
I normally would have gone for someone new but there was something about her that made me crave more. I've thought about her many times since I left. I'm not in love but the girl is something and I'm eager to have more.
I can tell she's thinking the same as she wades into the water, beckoning for me to come closer. She swims to the corner of the pool and I dive in, following behind her. I come out of the water, face to face with her. Her mascara runs slightly, leaving little black smudges under her eyes.
I love that shit. Though it’s normally caused by them gagging.
I press up against her lightly and take note of her body’s reaction to me. Her gaze falls from my eyes to my lips and back up again. Her chest moves up and down rapidly. A small bite of her lip, her body leaning into me.
Mmm.. I know, baby.
I reach out, firmly gripping her waist as she instantly presses her lips to mine, her arms coming around my neck. The noise of everyone around us seems to disappear as she slips her tongue in my mouth. Her fingers thread into my hair as my eyes shut and I take over, kissing her fiercely, pressing her body against the pool wall.
She moans into my mouth making my cock twitch. I dig my fingers into her hips pulling another moan from her, making me smirk against her lips before pulling away breathless.
“You taste just like I remember.” I groan, reaching around cupping her ass in my hands causing her to gasp. “How about that pussy, baby? Can I get another taste?” I mumble against her neck as I begin planting slow kisses up and down her exposed skin.
“Yes.. fuck.. where should we go?”
I let out a deep laugh before gradually gliding my fingers down her side. My hand skates across her thigh and slips in between her legs.
“Billy, there’s people..”
“Then I guess you'll have to be quiet.” I taunt, my voice low in her ear.
“Shit.” she breathes out as my fingers run across her clothed pussy under the water. I move the delicate fabric to the side, one finger slipping into her slit. Even under the water I can feel her need for me, her warmth wrapping around my finger, slickness coating it as I press deeper inside, a little moan falls from her mouth as it drops open.
I work in another finger, plunging into her pussy as her head falls to my shoulder trying to conceal her noises. “I missed these fingers,” she mumbles into the crook of my neck, sending a smile across my face.
I work her with my hand, adding a third finger, keeping them buried deep.
“Fuck!” she cries, her squeal barely muffled as I continue to fuck her with my hand.
Her moans grow louder as she buries her face even deeper. I can feel her pussy pulsing around my fingers as I curl and stroke across her g spot making her legs shake.
I hear voices from the other end of the pool, reminding me that we’re not alone. I lift her with one arm, her legs wrapping around my waist as her nails dig into my shoulder blades.
“Mmm.. I’m gonna.. Billy.. I’m gonna..” she stammers, her voice is shaky as I feel her clench around me.
“Cum for me, baby. Then I’m gonna take you inside where you can really scream.”
My words send her overboard and her teeth sink into my neck making me moan as she comes undone, her walls fluttering around my thick fingers. My jaw clenches as I feel the pain from her bite, followed by her lips sucking harshly as she rides out her orgasm.
Reader’s POV
“Oh my fucking god.” you laugh breathlessly as your body comes down from your high. You bring your face around and slam your lips to his, feeling elated.
He plants a few hard kisses on your lips before lifting you out of the pool. You stand up as he hops out, your eyes glancing towards the opposite side of the pool. You see the same couple still making out, people swimming around none the wiser. Holy shit.
As Billy stands, your eyes roam down his body, his erection clear through his wet briefs. Fucking hell.
“Bedroom?” you suggest coyly.
“Bedroom, baby.” he chuckles, swiping up your clothes and pulling you along.
******
“Is this Harrington’s room?” Billy questions as you lock the door behind you.
“Mhmm.. You okay with that?” you ask, walking further into the room. Billy laughs loudly at your question.
“Just makes it even better.” he snickers before tossing you to the bed.
Fuck, I'm excited. No stopping this time. I'm getting all of him.
You unclasp your wet bra, tossing it aside, watching as Billy’s eyes fall to your chest. He grins as he slides his underwear down, his cock finally unrestrained. You swiftly slip your panties off and giggle as Billy basically tackles you into the mattress.
“You're so fucking beautiful.” he compliments, as you feel his weight on top of you.
“So are you,” you reply, your voice hushed. You bring your arms around his neck and draw his lips to yours, his tongue parting your lips gently. You can feel him against your warmth as you wrap your legs around his waist.
You lift your hips, grinding against him, feeling his cock rock hard.
“I want you.” you plead desperately.
“How do you like it, baby? Soft and slow? Rough and fast? Tell me what you want.” Billy says as his hands begin to explore your body.
“Mmm.. Either.. Both.. I just want you.” you breathe out.
“My kinda girl,” Billy smirks before you feel him at your entrance. He gradually presses the first few inches into you, the stretch so delicious, so fucking good.
“Fuck, you're big.” you whimper slightly and he kisses your lips once more.
“I'm barely in, sweetheart.” he brags, a hint of cockiness laced in his tone. He pushes in deeper, making your mouth drop open with a squeak.
Once fully inside he begins to thrust. In and out, slow and steady. Your body feels overwhelmed from this new sensation. You've never had someone so deep inside of you before.
He starts to get into a nice rhythm, rolling his hips, driving into you at a perfect pace. Your eyelids flutter as he glides in and out of your pussy, your slickness coating his cock entirely.
“Fuck, baby.” Billy grunts as you start to rock with him, your bodies working perfectly together. He times his time, pumping into you with long hard strokes as he kisses you deeply.
You cross your ankles behind his back, pulling him back into you over and over again, moans and praises pouring from your lips as you give into him completely.
“Harder!” you cry unexpectedly, your body aching for something it's never known. I want him to destroy me and I know he can.
Billy grins wickedly, picking up speed, slamming into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.
“Yes!” you wail, clinging to him wildly, your nails dragging down his back as he thrusts mercilessly.
You lose yourself in the pleasure, as he pounds you into the mattress, your boobs bouncing with every thrust. You feel his hand on your ankle as he easily tosses it over his shoulder, leaning over you, making your legs tremble instantly.
“Oh- oh my god!” you scream as his cock slams directly into your g spot.
“There she is.” Billy growls, his smile widening as he slaps your thigh roughly making you squeal in delight.
“You like that?”
“Yes!”
“You like it rough?”
“Yes, Billy!”
“Tell me.”
“I want it rough. Fuck me hard, please!”
With no warning, he flips you to your stomach, pulling your ass up in the air and enters you again. His hand grips your hair and gives it a yank, a drawn out moan leaving your lips.
He slams into you, your ass bouncing against him over and over as he wears you out. His firm hand leaving handprints all across your ass. Your hands grip the sheets tightly as your body gives into the euphoria. The perfect amount of pleasure and pain blended together.
You had reached your high twice, the second even stronger than the first. Your body sensitivity at an all time high.
“Cum for me, again.” Billy mumbles lustfully, his hands gripping your waist, fingers digging into your skin.
“Yes, Billy.” you whimper. Your entire body felt like jello but you didn't care. You wanted this, needed this.
You soaked his cock once more before he filled you with his cum, both of you collapsing to the bed, out of breath.
“Why the fuck did you have to move again?” you pant, your cheeks flushed, your heart pounding.
Billy chuckles as he reaches over for a cigarette, pulling one out for you both.
“Any time I visit.. This is happening, doll.” he motions between the two of you.
“Visit more than once a year?” you pout, laying your head on his sweaty chest.
“Mhmm.. I didn't think I’d miss anything about Hawkins, baby. But damn I'm gonna miss you.”
#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove smut#billy hargrove x fem!reader smut#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove
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