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andvys · 2 months

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

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♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back.

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both.

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before.

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend.

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second.

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him.

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion.

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!”

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair.

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.”

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words.

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!”

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously.

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him.

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering.

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters.

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have.

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches.

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity.

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs.

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one.

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror.

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.”

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh.

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.”

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form.

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort.

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.”

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it.

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago.

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama.

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce.

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas.

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.”

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat.

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.”

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort.

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap.

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle.

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff.

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?”

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement.

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead.

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect.

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously.

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face.

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door.

Eddie though, he starts chuckling.

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more.

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you.

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.”

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch.

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy.

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers.

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers.

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything.

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm.

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music.

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related.

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face.

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively.

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.”

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.”

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen.

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin.

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard.

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt.

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else.

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t.

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was.

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees.

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first.

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you.

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch.

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face.

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him.

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling.

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes.

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.”

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask.

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips.

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it.

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile.

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you.

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes.

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!”

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you.

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again.

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head.

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise.

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder.

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again.

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan.

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing.

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum.

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again.

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side.

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued.

“I never got to taste it,” you pout.

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either.

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent.

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum.

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it.

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp.

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare.

Got you. He thinks.

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle.

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy?

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened.

Because it was nothing… to him.

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.”

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks.

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not.

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw.

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.”

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again.

He left you speechless.

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.”

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink.

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face.

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does.

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other.

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness.

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have.

You look down, frowning at your drink.

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table.

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him.

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning.

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly.

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?”

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.”

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers.

“Two sips.”

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him.

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you.

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P.

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm.

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp.

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you.

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too.

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you?

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little.

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face.

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question.

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning.

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington.

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries.

Joyce looks down in amusement.

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike.

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow.

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face.

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up.

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table.

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech.

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand.

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.”

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little.

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.”

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.”

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved.

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again.

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you.

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this.

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness.

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh.

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?”

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly.

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!”

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple.

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes.

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.”

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be.

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily.

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!”

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike.

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle.

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours.

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you.

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you.

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans.

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway.

What the hell.

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous.

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve.

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Running away from me?” Steve asks.

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights.

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door.

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time.

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you.

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car.

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.”

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw.

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car.

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight.

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word.

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat.

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it.

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him.

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along.

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something.

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day.

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers.

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something.

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him.

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting.

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long.

He was guided by lust, not by interest.

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you.

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you.

But it’s something that will never happen again.

He swears, it will never happen again.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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bagofshinyrocks · 3 months

Text

Biting (Affectionately)

Prompt: TF141 with a S/O who affectionately bites them [Requested by @airghostlyfox]

Featuring: TF141 - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Warnings: a wee bit suggestive, but nothing nsfw

John Price

John doesn’t mind all that much (i.e. he finds it endearing, but won’t tell you so). As long as it’s in private.

When watching TV, he expects for you to curl up with him and start “chewing” on the muscles in his arms. When he’s messing with you, pinching your cheeks and flicking your nose, he expects for you to start nipping at his fingers like a playful dog. When he blocks the doorway and refuses to move, of course you’ll lunge at him and start biting at his face until he has no choice but to move.

But he gets embarrassed if you do it in public view. He’s not sure why. He knows you don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but he still gets that unpleasant reaction in his abdomen. So you don’t, saving your love-filled chomps for the privacy of your shared home.

Simon Riley

Simon teases you for it (but still finds it adorable). And like all expressions of your love for each other, it is never in public. Might not even want his teammates to know about or see it, though he’ll feel more comfortable with you and them together over time

I beg you to chew on this man. Shove your head under his hoodie and chew on his abdomen and chest. Push aside his shirt collar and pretend to be a vampire. When you wake up from your nap on the couch to him putting his legs on you, get his fucking calves.

“No one’s gonna see it, Simon. You dress like a fucking nun.” You kissed the bite on his bicep better. “If anyone sees my teeth marks, it means you’re cheating.”

“Johnny does have pretty eyes,” he teased. Then yelped when you tried to nip his nose.

Kyle Garrick

Oh boy, oh boy is Kyle a giggling mess when you start biting at him. The hilarity of your mouth wide open as you try to catch his arm. Your happy shout muffled by his skin as you gently pressed your teeth into him.

Bothering him while he’s watching his show, chewing on the slight squish of his cheek like a cow on grass. Biting his hand and fingers when he tries to snag your food. If you nip a little too hard, you immediately kiss and rub it better. Apologizing. Sometimes he yelps just to laugh at your change in demeanor.

After a few weeks of your shenanigans, he decided to fight fire with fire. You absentmindedly handed him some piece of food to try, and instead of taking it with his own hand, his teeth nipped your fingers.

You yelped at the novel feeling. Then pinched his nose with your free hand. He chased after your hands with an open mouth, both of you laughing as he fell on you and gave back to you every single nip and chew you’ve given him over the past few weeks.

Johnny MacTavish

Discovered: New aspect of physical affection - Biting… press [J] to open journal.

The two of you will lay on the couch or in bed, lazing about on the few days off you share. And your mouth will be attached to the meat of his arm while he looks for something to watch. Once one has been selected, Johnny scratches your back and talks through the whole show.

When your handsome man gets out of the shower, and you tell him that he smells nice and “cute enough to eat”. Give him a little chomp on the chest or back.

When he’s walking around the home shirtless, showing off his physique, bide your time. When he least expects it, get those nips of his. Unfortunately, he will return the favor when you least expect it, but if you are gentle with his, he’ll be gentle to yours.

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2024 February 7

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forlix · 4 months

Text

"i did a thing." or, hyunjin needs an expert opinion about his newest piercing.

words・1.4k / pairing・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader / genres・fluff, established relationship / author's note・takes place in the same universe as places, places! and crying lightning but can be read on its own. @astraystayyh your children are back :’)

The parlor door jingles. Hyunjin emerges onto the chilled pavement with his phone pressed to his ear, and you pick up on the fourth ring.

“What is it? I’m busy.” The way your voice shrinks substantiates this claim, like you’ve darted to the other end of the room promptly after accepting his call. “And you’re on speaker.”

Hyunjin ducks into his car and sits back against the nylon with a grateful sigh. He finds himself constantly ill-prepared for Seoul’s Januarys. “Busy with who? Remind me.”

“You wanna say hi?” You ask the person in your company. Who is it? He hears them ask, to which you answer: Hyunjin. You say it softly, in the sense that you’re far away and speaking under your breath, but softly, in the sense that your tongue caresses every syllable of his name with that tacit fondness he’ll never tire of.

He notices the ditzy smile on his face only when he glances into his rear-view. He’s long given up on wiping it off.

A familiar voice drifts into your receiver. “Mr. Hwang!”

Ah, that’s right—you’re working on Aespa’s new music video for the next two weeks. Today must be the first day of filming.

“Hey, Ningning! How are you?”

“In a predicament, honestly. I have the biggest crush on my stylist, but so does this other guy…”

“Damn, sounds tough. Best of luck.”

“Oh, I won’t need luck. I said predicament, not competition.”

His jaw hits his wheel. “Okay, we’re boxing. Let’s go. Earrings off.”

“Say less!"

You’ve withstood enough. “Alright, nobody is boxing anyone—do not touch your earrings, Ning, what’s wrong with you? God, Hyunjin!”

Now you say his name sternly, hopelessly, like he’s just knocked ten years off your lifespan. He almost likes this version more. He fell in love with you listening to it, after all.

“Did you call for any reason aside from threatening my clients?”

Oh, right. He did.

Hyunjin glances into the rear-view again, intentionally this time. He moves aside a lock of maroon hair to review the silver studs glinting off his right eyebrow.

He smirks.

“Am I allowed on set?”

Half an hour later, Hyunjin reaches the filming site and runs into a few staff members who are so surprised to see him they nearly forget to question what he’s doing there.

But they do their job, and he humors them, utters your name and the word “boyfriend” back to back. Then he watches their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines and basically prances into the dressing rooms.

He loves that everyone knows you. He loves that everyone knows that he loves you.

You were out of bed before he opened his eyes this morning, and he blooms at his first sight of you today, alone in the lounge, curled up on the couch and browsing through your phone. Eyeshadow stains your fingers and a pen sits behind the cuff of your ear. Your figure is framed in a (his) white cardigan with a red heart stitched over its left lapel. So professional, so pretty, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he uses his words instead.

“I did a thing,” he says, plopping onto the cushion next to you.

You look at him, shut off your phone. “I figured.”

“Promise me you won’t get mad.”

“No.”

It was worth a shot. “Can you blink, at least? You’re scaring me.”

In turn, you stretch open your eyes and hold them there. “A blink would be more than you deserve right now.”

Insufferable. He unleashes a bashful laugh and singular clap and looks back at you just in time to see a matching smile on your cordate lips. And to see you blink.

“Seriously, though, no more suspense,” you plead. “What on earth did you do? Should I be worried?”

You tuck your hand around his bicep and tug lightly at his arm, and his insides pirouette at the gesture.

“No, no,” he answers, letting you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I was being dramatic. It’s nothing, really.”

You catch him as he’s trying to leave. A light finger hooks beneath his chin, an anchor to keep his face a mere few inches away from yours.

You look him in the right eye, then in the left, your expression stoic, scrutinizing. He doesn’t remember where he looks, in the meantime. He’s slipping and sliding out of his right mind, drinking in your long lashes and curved cheeks, wondering what heroic deed he performed in his last life to be able to study beauty in such proximity in this one.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” You query, tracing the tip of your pointer finger over Hyunjin’s cupid’s bow.

“No,” he exhales. “It’s not nothing.”

“Did you get it on your face?”

Of course you already know.

He nods, and the finger moves to his lower lip, gently indenting the glossy plush.

“Hot or cold?”

“Cold.”

The finger runs over the bridge of his nose, then the perimeter of its prominence, like the drag of a feather.

“Warmer.”

You lift a brow, give the side of his face a small nudge, and say, turn. The word comes out in a very stylist-esque manner, and you and Hyunjin realize this at the same time, judging by the synchrony of your quiet chuckles.

“Force of habit,” you murmur, and move his hair out of the way and lean in to examine his ear. Nothing new there. He turns his face the other way before you have to ask. Nothing new there, either.

When he looks at you again, your gaze has locked onto his eyebrows. You cock your head slightly to one side as it dawns on you what he’s done.

“Warmer,” he offers anyways, his smile small, his pulse rapid.

With a flourish of movement, you push his purple locks all the way off his forehead. Hyunjin holds his breath. Your expression goes blank.

But it’s not blank, not really. One just has to know where to look. (He does.)

Your eyes darken fast as if caught in a solar eclipse, your pupils doubling in size, your irises quivering slightly. Your mouth opens, then closes, then purses into a thin line as if suppressing something explosive. Your cheeks blush at their very outskirts, along the edges of your face and the slants of your cheekbones, like how the first rays of sunlight always skim the mountaintops first.

He hardly notices the finger you bring to brush over the studs, so carefully he doesn’t feel the contact.

He’s too busy basking in his victory.

Neither of you say anything for a long while. You lean back, then right, then left, your hand pinned to his hairline, your gaze superglued to his brow. He simply sits still, feeling like one of your French girls, simpering, simping.

“You really did it,” you finally say.

“I did,” he chirps. “Any notes?”

At the next part of your lips, your waiting smile overtakes them at long last. You duck your head to conceal it like he hasn’t already melted at its mere image. You deliver your answer to your knees.

“No?” He repeats incredulously, teasingly. “That’s a shame. I really could’ve used an expert opinion.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to tug at your sockets. His boyish grin wipes away your feigned irritation like warm cotton.

“Fine,” you grouse. “Look at me.”

He does. You look back.

“It's nice," you deadpan.

Your resolve wobbles.

"Complements your face…shape.”

The ‘p’ sound pops, and you lose your shit.

The sun fully risen now, you bury your burning face into your hands, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Meanwhile, the raucous cackle that leaves Hyunjin’s lips causes the intern hurrying past the lounge outside to jump so high he actually lets go of his coffee cups before snatching them back out of the air with a relieved groan. He doesn’t get paid enough.

You think you’re getting paid too much.

“I love it, Hyun,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough."

His heart beats so rapidly he thinks it might take off into a sprint; his laugh dwindles into a ditzy smile, one he’s long given up on wiping off.

“You know nothing about that word,” he replies, softly.

You bring your lips to his. His fingers wrap around the crook of your elbow. Yours begin curled in the silken hair at the back of his head. The pen behind your ear falls into the cracks of the couch.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh against his mouth, your own statement debunked by the inevitable drift of your touch back to the metal lodged in his face.

He doesn’t need to call you out. You do it yourself: “Ugh. I’ll be mad at you later.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

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munson-blurbs · 6 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Fast-forward two years, and the little Munson clan is celebrating Halloween with some old--and new--faces.

Warnings: allusion to smut, a lil surprise...

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Happy Halloween! A gentle reminder that requests for the TUI universe are officially open. And thank you to @rip-quizilla and @the-unforgivenn for helping me with this little blurb.

Divider credit to @saradika

Autumn has fully settled into Hawkins, Indiana. The sun sets a bit earlier each evening; green leaves become orange, then red, then brown, before fluttering to the ground and being raked into trash bags. A chill hangs in the air, not strong enough to create frost, but enough to warrant a layer of clothing or two.

Lucky for you, your Halloween costume this year is a long-sleeved olive green shirt underneath a sleeveless brown house dress, high socks, and loafers. Warm, cozy, and perfect for pretending to be Misery’s Annie Wilkes.

Eddie strides towards your shared bedroom, a Ghostface mask pushed up atop his mess of curls. He leans against the doorframe and lets out a low wolf-whistle.

You roll your eyes and grin. “You’re so full of it,” you laugh, adjusting the straps of your dress where they’re twisting on your shoulders. “This is quite possibly the least sexy costume anyone could wear.”

Eddie tuts, pushing off on his bicep and shaking his head. “It’s not the costume; it’s the woman wearing it.” His lips tug upward in a toothy smile. “C’mon, give me a little twirl.” He moves his forefinger in a circular motion to indicate what he wants.

You oblige, slowly turning and offering a 360-degree view of your outfit. “How do I look?” you deadpan.

“Like you’re killing for two.” He presses a kiss to your lips, his palms resting on your rounded bump just as they have ever since you’d started showing. Now that you’re in your final few weeks of pregnancy, he seems to find an excuse to touch it every spare chance he gets. “You’re sure you’re up for trick-or-treating? If you’re too tired or something, you can hang back. Jeff and I can handle the kids.”

It takes all of your willpower not to let out a disbelieving snort. If the two men are engaged in conversation, Harris and Ettie could be halfway to Timbuktu before they even notice they’re missing. “I’ll be fine,” you reassure him. “Annie Wilkes wore sensible shoes, which certainly helps. Although,” you scrunch up your nose, “these are kind of uncomfortable.”

Eddie peers down at your loafers and immediately bursts into laughter. “Babe…they’re on the wrong feet.” He cradles your face in his hands and brings his lips to the tip of your nose. “Let me fix that for you, okay?” You sit on the bed while he crouches down, slipping off your shoes and placing them on the correct feet. “There ya go.”

“I can’t see over my belly!” You lament with a laugh, holding out your hands so your doting husband can help you up. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be more useful once I’m not pregnant.”

“I think growing a baby is pretty damn useful,” Eddie murmurs, thumb grazing your cheek, “not to mention how goddamn gorgeous you look while you do it,” he adds, a soft growl inflecting his tone. He would ravish you right then and there if Freddy Krueger himself didn’t appear by his side.

“Is it time for trick-or-treating?”

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie jumps, snapped out of his lovesick stupor in an instant. His hand flies to his chest as his heartbeat steadies. “You scared the hell outta me, Har.” He takes a deep breath before answering his son’s question. “We’ll go as soon as Uncle Jeff and Auntie Viv and Ettie get here.”

Harris nods, the dark gray fedora slipping in front of his eyes. “I wish my baby brother could go with us,” he says with a sigh, swaying his arms back and forth. “When is he gonna be born?”

“Two more weeks until he’s officially due,” you report, gingerly caressing your bump and smiling. Harris has been asking about the baby’s arrival ever since you and Eddie told him he was going to be a big brother. “And then he’ll come trick-or-treating with us next year.”

He beams at this idea, bouncing up and down with enough energy to make you question whether he’s already started eating candy. “I...can’t…wait!” he exclaims, each word more breathless than the last as he acts like a human spring. “Do…you…think…he’ll…like…Skittles?”

Eddie places a hand on Harris’s shoulder to stop his movements. “Baby Brother won’t be able to have Skittles for a long time,” he chuckles, the dimples in his cheeks making an always-welcome appearance, “but if you wanted to share with me, I wouldn’t turn down some peanut M&Ms…”

“Nah, I’m good.” Harris says simply, turning his attention back to your stomach. “It would be kinda cool if he was born on Halloween, though.”

You wrinkle your nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to trick-or-treat with you tonight,” you point out.

“Oh. Right.” Harris puts a hand on your bump and speaks directly to it. “You stay put until I get my candy.”

Jeff and his family arrive thirty minutes later, clad in their Winnie-the-Pooh themed costumes. Ettie, held in her mom’s arms, is the titular character. Viv makes the perfect Kanga with a Roo stuffed animal hot-glued in the fabric pouch that stretches over her own bump.

“That’s a good look for you,” Eddie snorts when Jeff walks in dressed as Eeyore.

“Right back atcha,” Jeff retorts with a playful smirk. “You’re like a geriatric Ghostface.”

You and Viv share an eye roll at their juvenile banter. “How’re you feeling?” she asks you, strategically ignoring the way Jeff and Eddie are swapping insults.

“Tired of being pregnant but terrified to give birth.” You laugh as you say it but your words are 100-percent true. As much as you’re ready to have your body back to yourself, delivering a baby is a daunting task. “How about you?” She’s due only one month after you are, and the two of you often commiserate about your respective pregnancies.

“Exhausted,” she admits, right hand fingers digging into her lower back and massaging it. “Chasing after a two-and-a-half year-old while being almost eight months pregnant is not for the weak.”

Your lips scrunch up sympathetically. “I don’t know how you do it, honestly.”

As if on cue, Ettie wriggles out of her mother’s grip so she can toddle over to her favorite uncle. Eddie scoops her up, and she greets him with an excited “hi!”

Tears gather at your lash line embarrassingly; the sight of your husband cooing over a young child has your third trimester hormones working in overdrive. You clear your throat and blink them back before anyone can notice. “Who wants to go trick-or-treating?”

Pillowcases in hand, Harris and Ettie cheer loudly as the six–almost eight–of you head out to take on the neighborhood in a conquest for full-size candy bars. You and Viv walk next to them; your husbands lag behind to lock the door.

“You ready to do this with double the amount of kids next year?” Jeff smirks, as Eddie turns the key and jiggles the knob to ensure no one can get it.

Eddie huffs out a laugh. “God, no.” He looks at his long-time friend and grins. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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familyvideostevie · 6 months

Text

october nineteenth

day nineteen: steve harrington you find a guy at a halloween party dressed in a matching costume. guess you have to hook up with him, right? | 18+, mdni, smut, fem!reader | 2k detailed content warnings: grinding, hooking up with a stranger, fem!reader, some light praise kink, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, doggy style, people hearing you fuck

Your costume is a bit uninspired. It was supposed to be a couples costume but your date called last week to say he finally made it official with some other girl, so.

Here you are, Baby from Dirty Dancing without her Johnny.

You’ve made it a bit sluttier than planned to compensate. Jean cutoffs as short as you can find and a white button up tied just below your breasts, which are pushed up and out by your best bra.

All of your friends ooh and ahh and tell you you’re sure to attract some attention tonight. The party it at the house of some guy you don’t really know, but you’re still excited by the atmosphere and how good you know you look. When you get there you immedietly grab a drink and start having fun. You dance, you laugh, you take a shot.

You’ve got a light buzz by the time he walks in.

A guy dressed as Johnny. At least that’s who you think he’s dressed as — tight black tank top showing his biceps and black pants that hug his ass like a dream. He’s handsome in a way that makes your throat dry.

He locks eyes with you from across the room and his eyes rake across your costume with obvious interest. Wow, you’re pretty sure you’ve never met this guy before but he’s really checking you out. Then he winks at you and disappears into the crowd.

Okay. Tonight might be more fun than you anticipated. If you can find him again.

You wander around the house with your friends, one eye on the crowd, but you don’t see him. A flash of black, a tanned shoulder, coiffed hair. But no actual Johnny.

Until you’re in the kitchen by yourself getting some water from the tap.

“Baby?” someone says behind you. You whirl around and there he is. “Hi,” he says, mouth pulled up into an infuriatingly handsome smirk.

“Hi…Johnny?”

“Well, I tried,” he says. “I’m Steve.” He holds out his hand to shake and you pump it twice.

“Hi, Steve.” You tell him your actual name and he repeats it. “Wanna dance, Steve?”

He looks a bit surprised but glances at the mosh of people and then you, heat in his gaze. “Guess we have to, right? I’m not lifting you, though. Patrick Swayze is way stronger than me, I can admit it.”

You laugh and grab his hand and drag him to the floor.

It’s the point in the night where people are practically dry humping to the music, so you press close to Steve as you dance, making sure you’re always touching as you spin and move.

You turn around a few times and press your ass against his front just to see what he’ll do. His hands fly to your hips every time, thumbs pressing into the bare skin above your waistband. By the third time you do it, you feel him hard against you and you crane your neck so you can see his face.

“Do you want to find a room?” he says in your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You nod. Steve grabs your hand and drags you from the floor and through the hallways of the house like he knows it well. You make it up the stairs and he tries a few doors but they’re all locked or otherwise occupied, based on the shouts from behind them. He curses and then tugs you into…a bathroom?

“Not what I was aiming for, but it’ll do,” he says and kicks the door shut. You hop up on the counter and he stands between your legs, hands squeezing your bare thighs.

Neither of you seem totally sure what to do next. Your arousal courses through your veins but you wait for him to make the next move.

“I, uh, don’t do this a lot,” he says.

“Hook up with random girls at parties?”

He swallows and nods. “We don’t have to do anything,” he assures you. “You just…you look so…”

“We match,” you remind him. You curl your fingers through his belt loops.

“We do.”

“I’m game if you are,” you say and lean in. He follows like a magnet and your noses brush.

“Okay,” he says. “We can stop whenever you want.”

“Scott,” you say, “I promise I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.”

“Well, first of all, my name is Steve.” You laugh, only a little embarrassed. He doesn’t look upset, just amused.

“Sorry, Steve.”

He kisses you hard, hands on your face and tongue immedietly in your mouth. You wrap your legs around him and pull him as close as you can get. His hands are everywhere, on your jaw and your back and your hips and your stomach. He breaks the kiss to tear off his tank top and you drag your hands down his chest, feeling his wiry hair and muscles as he kisses you again, sucking on your tongue.

“Off,” he says into your mouth. Nimble fingers untie the knot of your shirt and throw it aside. His lips trail down your neck, sucking on your pulse point. “So hot,” he says. “So fucking hot in that shirt. Look at those tits.”

He tugs down your bra and practically sighs when he cups your breasts in his huge hands. His mouth is spit slick and hair a mess from your tugging. “God,” he breathes out. “Perfect.” He runs his thumbs over your nipples and pinches them. You arch your back into his touch and undo your bra entirely so it falls to the floor.

The party is going on just outside but you don’t give a fuck. You haven’t had a one-night stand in a long time and this is going perfectly. You need him to fuck you in this bathroom.

You cover one of his hands with yours and drag it down to your inner thigh. “Touch me, Steve.”

He smirks. “Right name. Good girl,” he coos. Now that sends a lightning bolt of pleasure to your core. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

He pulls you off the counter and tugs down your shorts, going to his knees as he does. Holy shit. “These fuckin’ things,” he says. “So short it should be illegal.”

“Lucky you it’s not,” you say. You lean back on the vanity and he studies the lace of your panties. “Cute.” You fist your hand in his hair and tug lightly so he’s looking at you. His pupils dilate and his breath hitches.

“C’mon, Steve. You gonna touch me?”

“Oh, I’m gonna touch you.” He tugs down your panties and pushes your legs apart. You pull your foot free from your bottoms and lift your leg, which he hooks over his shoulder.

“Look at that,” he says. He drags two fingers through your folds and brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean, his eyes on you the whole time. Where the hell did this guy come from? “Your cunt tastes good.”

And then he’s lapping at you, the flat of his tongue firm enough against you to make you moan. His nose bumps your clit and you keen, which makes him switch gears and suck on it a few times. He slides two fingers inside, pumping them in and out as he devours you.

Your grip on his hair becomes less gentle but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’re pretty sure he likes it.

You could come like this but his fingers have only barely filled the ache you feel so you tap his cheek and he pulls away.

“You gonna spend all night down there?”

He grins. His face is shiny with you. “I could.”

“Or you could fuck me.” His nostrils flare and he licks his lips.

“I could do that, too.”

Steve stands and hovers near you until you surge forward to kiss him. You can taste yourself on his lips.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “So fucking hot.”

You feel him hard through his pants as you work at his belt. He helps you and shoves them down just far enough to get his cock out. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be, long and thick, dark curls at the base. You spit into your hand and start to stroke him.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Yeah,” he manages. He digs in the back pocket of his half-off pants and produces a foil square. You would tease him about it if you weren’t so impatient to be fucked.

“I’ll do it,” you say. He hands you the wrapper and you tear it open and slowly roll it on. Steve hisses. “Gonna be a tight fit,” you murmur.

“You sure know how to make a guy feel good,” he says. “Turn around.”

You do, ass in the air, hands braced on the counter. The mirror is too high on the wall for you to see anything but you wish you could.

“Fuck,” Steve says. “You’re dripping.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say. He drags his cock through your folds and you push back with your hips, desperate for some friction.

Steve fucking laughs. “Patience, sweetheart. Gonna take care of you.”

“Then get a fucking move on, sweetheart,” you snap.

He stops messing around and pushes into you a bit meanly, a bit too fast, and you gasp.

“Fuck,” you hiss, pressing your forehead on the counter. The stretch burns for a few seconds before dulling to a feeling of fullness, of deep, deep pleasure. He bottoms out and you hear a stuttering breath.

“Tight fit is right,” Steve says. “Fuck.”

“Are you going to move?”

“So impatient.” Steve kicks your feet apart even more and starts to fuck you hard right away, his cock dragging inside you and skin slapping loudly with each thrust. His hands grip your hips so hard you know you’ll bruise.

“Bet this isn’t — shit — what you thought you’d be doing tonight.”

“Not exactly,” he says. “But I’m not complaining.”

You laugh but it turns into a moan when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“God,” he pants. “You have a perfect cunt.”

“Buy a girl dinner first, Steve.”

He fucks you even harder in retaliation.

The bathroom feels hot, almost unbearably so. You’re making noises you didn’t know you could make as he pounds into you, so loud you’re sure anyone standing outside can hear.

And then someone bangs on the door. Neither of you pay it any mind.

“Hey! You can’t take the bathroom! People have to piss!”

“Fuck off,” Steve yells.

“Did you lock the door?” you ask, turning your head a little to see him. His chest his flushed, forehead damp with exertion. He smoothes a palm over your back as if to calm you.

“I fucking hope so,” he says, not breaking his rhythm. Whoever is outside must decide it’s not worth it, because they don’t knock again. “Why? You want someone to walk in on us? See you bent over the counter, see me fucking you—”

You clench around him. “Shut up, Steve.” He does.

The building pressure in your abdomen is getting to be too much. You press back into him with each thrust, chasing your high. He gets the message and curls an arm around you to circle your clit with rough fingers, his damp chest pressed to your bare back.

“I’m close,” he says, “I’m close, baby, are you—”

“Me too,” you pant. It’s funny that he calls you baby, since you are — were — dressed as her, but you don’t call him on it, too busy trying to finish.

“Fuck,” he pants. “Fuck, come on, you can do it, come on my co—”

A broken cry crawls its way out of you as your orgasm rushes up all at once. You spasm around him and his hips drive into you through it. At some point he finishes, too, but you’re too fucked out to notice. He presses his forehead to your shoulder blades after he’s done. You’re both panting. The sounds of the party leak through the door.

Steve squeezes your hip, still inside you. “That was — wow.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve,” you say. “We should do this again.”

“Is that a compliment?” You reach back with intent to smack him but he catches your hand and squeezes. “Don’t worry, I won’t let it go to my head.”

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

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luvrxbunny · 16 days

Text

fame

pairing: ex-bf!Eddie Munson x f!reader

summary: Eddie makes a grave mistake.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, insecurity, 'do i wanna know' (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 3.6k

a/n: a few things! Id suggest listening to the song before and/or after you read the fic! I wouldn’t suggest during because obviously it wont be on tempo. this can either be modern!Eddie or we can just pretend that “Do I Wanna Know” came out back in 1980. also idk anything abt instruments so shut up if i messed up anywhere— this is one of the worst ones ive written im sorry i just wanted to post

You and Eddie were happy. You guys got to see each other all the time since you became the lead singer of Corroded Coffin. The band supported you two going public endlessly due to the amazing on-stage chemistry you both brought to the shows. The more touchy, and lovey you guys were, the more people would come to the next show. But with this new, larger crowd came a new wave of women wanting to sleep with the hot lead guitarist, Eddie.

You had no problem with it before. You know he wasn’t very popular in high school and it took you months to convince him that you honestly found him attractive, that you weren’t playing some practical joke, or just trying to bait him into embarrassing himself. So you were pretty happy to see all the attention he was getting, the attention he deserved. You could see his confidence rising, he would smile at the crowd more, play more impressive riffs and you’d get to watch his chest puff up in pride as the crowd uproars for him.

But as he got more attention from the crowd, his attention was on you much less.

After shows, instead of hanging back with the rest of the band and relaxing backstage, he’d be out in front “entertaining the crowd” as he lovingly put it. It bothered you a bit because this is where you and Eddie got most of your quality time from but you would never take his little fanbase away from him so of course you never said anything. But there was this one week, gig after gig after gig.

You got no love from Eddie on stage and assumed it was because he was too tired to put on such a show. He wasn't too tired for his guitar riffs, but you let it slide. It’s Eddie he’ll make it up to you backstage, or later than that if necessary.

Then came time to head backstage, and Eddie didn't follow. You decided to let that slide too. He needs this interaction with his fans! He needs and craves that connection to people who are similar to him, maybe he’ll make some more friends around his age! You’d never want to do anything to stunt that.

But three hours later, you Jeff, Gareth, and Doug aren’t in a forgiving mood anymore. You’d all joked about how once Eddie got a taste of fame he’d just leave you all behind but it’s starting to feel like less of a joke and more of a reality.

You guys drink and complain, roll up, smoke, complain, and down a few more drinks before you all decide to take a stand. It’s a half-joke, that you’re all going to head out to the front and demand that Eddie come backstage to spend time with his band, with his girlfriend at least. The boys talk about inviting some girls backstage with them to make a party out of the whole ordeal but all those thoughts are gone and replaced with sober, solemn ones at the sight of what's happening at the front of the bar.

Eddie’s sitting on a barstool, leaning back against the bar like he’s some god, he has his arms spread wide, resting on the bar and surrounded by women. Most of them are taking unpermitted selfies with him— not that he minds, but three women are draping themselves over him. One is at his side, sitting in a seat and resting her head on his bicep as she rambles to him and he’s listening.. intently. There’s another who’s on his other side, stroking and running her fingers through his hair, complimenting his curls, the ones you taught him to take care of. The third woman is standing between his spread legs, leaning over so that her cleavage is perfectly in his face under the guise of looking at and complimenting his necklaces.

The smile on his face is one you’ve been missing, one you’ve been seeing less and less due to the stress of booking gigs but there it is… beaming for another girl.

Your heart stops when Eddie finally notices you guys standing on the other side of the room. You feel as though it’s about to jump out of your body and crash through the ground. Eddie pulls his arms in and pushes the girl between his legs away from him with a wide smile. “Oh. Hey, baby!”

He’s getting up, explaining himself, and walking towards you all at once but you can’t even process what you’ve seen yet, let alone hear his bullshit explanation so you walk away.

You turn and head backstage, already planning on packing your things and leaving. You’ll have to call an Uber because there is absolutely no way you’ll ride in the same van as him. You’re shoving your weed and rolling tray into your backpack when your head clears enough for you to listen to your surroundings again.

You can hear Gareth and Doug scolding the girls, making them leave. You can also hear quick, sharp footsteps heading your way. Your breathing jumps and tears spring to your eyes, ones you quickly squeeze out and wipe away before Eddie comes through the door.

You don’t look up at him, you just keep collecting your things and internally make a note to yourself not to leave your things scattered across an entire room.

“Babe? Wait. Wait, wait you have to listen to me first.” You hold back a laugh and settle for a scoff at his statement.

“I don't have to do anything, Ed.” His heart stops. You’ve only called him Ed once before; it was the biggest and only fight the two of you have ever had. His hands start trembling at their sides and his heart is beating roughly, rushing blood in his ears. He’s stunned to silence, watching you gather your things in a rush.

You look around for your phone charger and spot it by the doorway, on a chair next to where Eddie is standing. He notices your gaze and quickly grabs the charger, holding it to his chest. “Listen.”

Your eyes slowly raise to meet his. He looks scared and desperate. You give him a chance.

You put your bag down and lean against the back of the couch, staring at him and waiting for what you’re supposed to be listening to but he seems stumped.

He didn’t have a plan or know what to say, he just needed you to stop. He tries to piece together a speech but his train of thought is disrupted by a disappointed sigh from you. “Look, Ed—”

He finally finds words. “Please don’t call me that.” His voice is strained, and you almost feel bad.

“Why? It’s the title you deserve right now. You’re not my Eddie so I’m not going to address you like you are.” You start walking towards him, tears bubbling in your eyes despite the screaming in your head not to cry.

“You sat there while those women laid themselves all over you, while the rest of your band, and your girlfriend sat backstage and waited for you. I’m your girlfriend. Do you realize how fucked up that is? You had me waiting and waiting for you, thinking you were just interacting with fans…” You think about how easily he fooled you.

“I’m an idiot, huh?” You trail off, lost in your thoughts of despair. You’d always been so cautious of men, of giving your feelings, always keeping your guard up so you don’t get hurt, and the one time you decide to bring them down.

“Okay! I’m fucked up for making you wait, I know that. I- I didn’t realize how long it’d been. I’ve been drinking a-and--”

You cut him off. “Oh, you were drinking with them too! That’s great, Ed. Just the info I need.”

He sighs defeatedly. “I- It- But they don’t mean anything to me. They don’t! Why does it matter that I was drinking with them? It’s not like I was gonna do anything, baby. You know that.” He steps in your direction but you back away and wrap your arms around yourself.

It breaks his fucking heart.

“I don’t know that though, do I? Because never in a million years would I have ever thought that Eddie Munson, my boyfriend, would leave me waiting because he was entertaining other women. Do you understand? How- How nerve-wracking and shocking it was to see you out there like that?”

You take another shaking breath as you avert your gaze from his, tears spilling from your eyes. “The worst part is that- that I believed you when you said you just wanted to interact with fans. I really— God I was even happy for you. I trusted you, Eddie. Co-Completely. You know how big that is for me and you manipulated it.”

He’s rushing towards you now, dropping your charger and taking your hands in his. “No. No, listen, I- I didn’t realize, I didn’t know it- Baby, I thought it wouldn't matter, I thought you wouldn’t care because I’m yours. We’re together so why does it matter? I- I won’t date them, I won’t fuck them, I don’t love them, baby. I love you.”

You sigh and look down at your feet, unable to watch as his eyes fill with tears.

You wish he hadn’t said that. The first time you get to hear the words ‘I love you’ coming from his lips and it’s in a setting like this..

“Okay. I believe you, Ed, but… You broke my trust, you technically ch- cheated.” His eyes widen almost comically and as his mouth starts to shape the word ‘No’ you cut him off again. “You say you didn’t but just because you weren’t going to have sex with them doesn’t mean that you should let them all over you like that!”

Your anger bubbles up again and you finish packing, grabbing your charger and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “You’re not that stupid, Ed. You know what you did was wrong otherwise you wouldn’t have pushed those girls off you when I showed up.” You turn to leave the room but you’re compelled to ask him one more question.

“Did you how this makes me look? You’re supposed to be mine yet there are girls all over you. It looks like I can’t satisfy you, like I’m not enough. And you know I have shit with what. Or it looks like I’m a fucking idiot letting my boyfriend get felt up by fucking groupies while I’m in the back, none the fucking wiser.”

His tears are spilling now, one currently streaming dramatically down his cheek. “But we- Like we don’t— You don’t have to leave me. We- I’ll be better. I love you, I don't love them I just.. I’ve never gotten attention like that.. I- I just wanted to know what it felt like.”

You know he’s trying to get through to you, that he’s trying to explain away and excuse what he did but he’s just hurting you further. Why wasn’t my attention enough?

“Yeah no, I figured that and um… Ed, I think we should take some time apart.” All you get from him is a badly veiled sob.

“You can flirt around all you want and… and we’ll see if we still have anything between us by the end of it.”

It’s been a little over a month now.

He called off band practice until further notice.

You miss him.

You took the first week apart to come to terms with what you had just done. It was a smart move. You’re not stable enough to let Eddie flirt around with your trust, especially since it had started behind your back. This way was better. You could take some time to yourself while Eddie does whatever he wants. You decided he could come back whenever he was ready, as long as he didn’t do anything with anyone.

You meant what you said when you left him but you started regretting it after seeing the obvious dip in Eddie’s happiness. You’d see him in school with his head perpetually down. He doesn’t interact with you at all, he doesn't look at you on campus, he sits on the opposite side of the classroom for any class the two of you have together, and makes it a point to never turn in your direction.

You truly wanted him to relish in the fame without any guilt on your part. You figured it’d hurt you but you wanted Eddie to be able to experience the popularity he never had before. He was supposed to take his newfound freedom and spread his wings however he wished but instead he just wallowed in what he had lost.

You hoped he’d come to you in the third week, let you know he doesn’t want he freedom you’ve granted him and he’d beg for you back. But it never happened. You thought about going to him, letting him know that you can see him struggling and you forgive him and you guys can get back together like nothing happened. But your pride couldn’t let you. He hurt you and now he’s hurting, it's fair but you shouldn’t have to be the one to concede.

After the fourth week, you realized your mistake. You should’ve known Eddie would never have the confidence to come back to you, to ask you for another chance, to ask you to forgive and forget his past crimes. You should’ve given him a set timeframe, you should’ve told him he was free to come back when he was ready.

In the fifth week, Gareth called a meeting. He’d had enough of the missed practices and awkwardness amongst the band. You all responded to his email in agreement. Except Eddie.

You thought about going over to his house before practice, just to see if he was planning on showing up, to see if he was okay. But you didn’t.

You were actually quite happy to catch up with the others. You joke about how badly all your skills have diminished without a month of practice. Doug jokes about how he mostly misses the DnD nights. As if on cue, Eddie walks in.

He’s silent and his hair is a mess, obviously not taken care of and it breaks your heart. The room falls sadly silent as Eddie unpacks his guitar and takes a seat. You feel the tension in the room suffocating you and before you can think the action through you spit out a quiet. “Jesus, Eddie.”

The boys laugh beside you and you roll your eyes before making your way over to him. Eddie looks star-struck, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide as he stares up at you, admiring the olive branch you’re extending.

You take in his bloodshot eyes— high, and his dark circles. Your heart clenches in your chest, recalling the various late-night calls with Eddie as he complains about his insomnia, and how he would wish you were there to soothe him.

You stand beside his chair, shake your head in teasing disapproval, and run your fingers through his roots. You sigh at the immediate tangle that meets you and lock eyes with him, a playful smirk on your lips. “Where’ve you been, Eddie?”

He sucks in a soft breath to answer before Jeff cuts him off with a loud clap. “Alright, positions everyone. What’re we practicing?” You smile at him one last time before heading for your mic.

“We could start working on “Do I Wanna Know?” Doug suggests and Eddie immediately groans out. He is very open about his hate for the song, about how he thinks it's overplayed and has no substance. In reality, everyone knows he’s just frustrated with the chords. He always wants his hands busy and the chords to this song just aren’t stimulating enough for him, he thinks they’re “boring”.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Ed. This is what the people wanna hear.” Doug defends as he picks up his bass. You clear your throat and Gareth situates himself behind his drums. Eddie is the only one who doesn’t get in formation, staying seated across from you to your left, almost in your line of sight. You make an effort to keep your eyes forward as Gareth starts the beat, pretending you can’t feel Eddie’s eyes on you as he starts his riff.

You do your best to keep it together as you notice how easily his hands glide across the guitar, you don’t even see him look down once. You rock in time with the drums before singing out the first line.

It feels shaky and your voice is scratchy but you power through, the boys know you need some warm-up. Your voice evens out by the next pause and you’re starting to feel more confident.

“Are there some aces up your sleeve?”

You see Eddie nodding in approval in the corner and you try not to let pride bleed into your voice.

“Have you no idea that you’re in deep?”

You look over at him to see him still watching you.

“I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.”

You note the recognition in his eyes before you break contact, looking back at the base of your mic stand.

“How many secrets can you keep?”

You think about how the first time you heard this song it reminded you of Eddie. It almost perfectly encapsulated how you felt for him prior to dating, and it ironically relates to how you feel about him now. Still obsessed but too prideful to do anything about it.

You can see Eddie still staring at you from his corner, unwavering. He always gets a little more confident with his guitar, but it’s been so long since you’ve been around him you feel stupid, like a little girl with a crush.

Doug and Gareth come in as your backing vocals.

“Do I wanna know?”

You take your eyes away from the mic stand and look straight ahead.

“If this feeling flows both ways.”

You see Eddie sit up in his seat.

“Sad to see you go”

“Was sorta hopin’ that you’d stay.”

You start swaying with the beat, getting more loose, and feeling the song. You switch from foot to foot, swinging your hips gently with a smile.

“That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.”

You look over at him again.

“Crawling back to you.”

You say the next line as a genuine question, openly targeting him now.

“Ever thought of calling when, you’ve had a few?”

You glance away from him, nervous under his penetrating stare. He hasn’t looked away from you once. You’re wondering where all this confidence was in the past few weeks. All he needed was for you to speak to him. You study his face, his reaction to the next line.

“Maybe I’m too, busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I’ve thought it through. Crawlin’ back to you.”

Eddie’s hands finally rest and he leans forward in his chair, cocking one eyebrow at you as if to ask ‘Really?’ and you respond with the next line.

“So have you got the guts?”

Eddie takes a deep breath before sitting back and adjusting his guitar strap. He runs his hands down his thighs, wiping his clammy palms on his sweatpants as he watches you perform. It’s been so long since he’s seen you, even longer since he’s seen you without it hurting his heart. He’s missed you.

He takes you in. He notices the pink on your nails, a different shade than the last time he noticed. He can’t help but run his eyes down your body, loving the way you move to the beat, the way you’re shimmying your shoulders. His eyes focus on your lips.

“Simmer down and pucker up”

He gets entranced with the way they form around your words. He misses feeling them on his, on him. He remembers how soft they are, how raw they get when you’ve bitten them bloody. He watches them stretch over your pearly white teeth in a smile. He can feel your eyes on him again but he can’t pull himself away from your mouth. Not even to look at his guitar as his time comes up.

You watch Eddie pick his guitar up and start playing again, zombie-like movements as he zeros in on your lips. You try to focus on the words, to stay on key, not stutter or slip up. But Eddie's eyes snap to yours.

“But we could be together… If you wanted to.”

He takes a deep breath after your last line, as if he was waiting to hear it, like it’s confirmation. You can’t help the smirk that your smile morphs into and Eddie looks down. It looks like he’s focusing on his chords but his eyes are closed, deep breaths filling his lungs as he tries to calm down.

You’re sure that your performance is mediocre due to the lyrics and pitch being the last thing on your mind. You watch Eddie’s hand slide lazily across the guitar, his ringed fingers moving faster than you could comprehend without even a fraction of his attention. You ignore the pooling in your stomach and look away from him again, trying to focus on anything else.

“Crawling back to you.”

You pretend not to hear the smirk in Gareth's voice. You see Eddie looking up at you again in your peripherals. He sits back and adjusts himself, lifting his hips, lowering his guitar and when you glance over you can see a lip tucked under his teeth.

“Maybe I’m too—”

You see Eddie leaning forward as he stares at you, begging for your attention so you turn to him. His eyes soften and you can see his chest heave ever so slightly.

“-busy being yours to fall for somebody new. Now, I’ve thought it through. Crawlin’ back to you.”

You go through the motions for the rest of the song. You keep eye contact with Eddie through all of it.

Everything around you is forgotten as he looks into your eyes. You’ve missed him so much.

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!! reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #luvrxfics #eddie munson imagine #stranger things s4 #eddie munson angst #stranger things fic #corroded coffin

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sant-riley · 1 month

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Uhhh brain wracking brain wracking-

Imagine S/O surprising Ghost with their strength by picking him up and perhaps spinning him around

They insist that he's as light as a feather. They're visibly struggling while holding him up

Thank you anon for the food, I haven't written anything in AGES I'm sorry if I'm rusty but fuck it we ball, gonna do these as bullet points!

Warnings; nothing I can think of! But as always, lmk!

(Literally me and Simon)

Trying and somewhat achieving in picking up Simon!

The first time you bring it up, asking if you can attempt it, Simon looks at you like you're fucking stupid.

He's a big dude, bigger than most and will almost always be the biggest person in the room, he's built like a fucking mountain.

You throwing him pretty eyes and begging for his permission isn't gonna change the fact that you're smaller than him, you'll hurt yourself, he knows you will, so he says no.

This does nothing to ward you off, only fueling you to want to work out and gain upper arm and body strength to prove him wrong out of spite.

He'll ask Soap where you've been in the last few weeks,, noticing your slight absence when training hours are over, nowhere to be found an hour or so afterwards.

Soap only chuckles and throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the gym where the creaks of the workout gear can be heard still.

"They're still workin' wouldn't tell me why though."

Simon makes his way towards the gym, leaning on the doorway as he sees you huff and puff as you do sets of bicep curls.

He can't help but a small smirk run under his mask, you're so committed to this. It's so stupid, but he can't deny it makes him happy.

No one can just pick the man up, takes Price, Gaz and Soap usually to keep up right and that's with his arms thrown around their shoulders.

He still doubts you'll be able to, but he's flattered. You're trying (asshole)

Simon creeps silently to you, waiting til you set down the weights before whispering out a "boo", his shit eating grin when you yelp and whirl around, wide eyes staring oh so prettily up at him.

"What the fuck! Why would you do that?" "It's funny." "It is fucking not." "Mmm, sure is."

He moves to ruffle your hair, ignoring your hand swatting at his own.

"Why are you here afterhours? You're missing chunks of your dinner." He knows why, he just wants to hear you admit it.

"Is it a crime to work out some more? To stay in top shape for our job?" The eyebrow he raises is catastrophic, immediately calling you the fuck out without any words.

"Okay, fine. I've been working out so I can prove to you I can pick you up."

At this point, he figures he can humor you, you've been trying so hard.

"Y'know what? Why the hell not, cmon, try and lift me."

"Are you fucking with me or-" "hurry up before I change my mind." "Aye Aye sir."

He stands in front of you, arms loosely at his side, head tilted to the right as he watches you get into form.

The key to lift with your legs, the strength in them far outweighing anything else, wrapping your arms across his stomach (a feeling of electricity jumps up his spine at your touch, he hopes you don't notice.)

You take a deep breath, nuzzling your head into his chest and try your fucking damndest to lift this behemoth of a man up and to your and Simon's surprise, you DO manage to lift him up, at least an inch of the ground before your legs buckle and you shakily place him down.

A whoop leaves your mouth, jumping up and down as you giggle about lifting Ghost, "I did it! You weren't that heavy at all!" Simon can literally see the sweat on your brow, but he just rumbles out a laugh and moves to plant a masked kiss on your temple, congratulating you on your win over him.

You run out into the base, no doubt going to tell the others about your feat.

He sighs a gross lovesick sigh, and moves to grab your gym bag from the bench and follow after you.

#I HOPE THIS IS ENTERTAINING PLS HAVE MERCY I DONT WRITE ANYTNING EVER ANYMORE #ghost <3 #ive missed him my husband #kayla writes <3 #kayla asks <3 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #call of duty drabble #call of duty headcanons #call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty #call of duty x reader #task force 141 x reader

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wileys-russo · 9 months

Text

alessia day II a.russo x reader

tooth rottingly soft self care days with star girl

alessia day II a.russo x reader

4.3K words

licking some jam off the tip of your thumb you looked down to the table loaded with food in front of you and nodded with a satisfied smile, happy with your work for the morning and even happier that alessia hadn't woken up any earlier than you'd hoped.

washing your hands and kicking the dishwasher closed with your foot you downed the last mouthful of your coffee, abandoning the mug in the sink and making your way upstairs. hand on the doorknob of your shared bedroom you pushed it slowly open, wincing as the door itself squeaked loudly but thankfully it didn't appear to phase the soundly sleeping striker on the other side of the room.

padding over to the bed you squatted down lovingly moving a few strands of loose blonde hair away from the girls face, gently murmuring good morning and pressing a lingering kiss to her warm forehead. never having been a morning person your girlfriend stirred but promptly rolled away from you over to the other side of the bed with a grunt.

your smile widened and you let out a small chuckle having already anticipated that the girl would be quite hard to get out of bed this morning, all the stress from rumors of her potential transfer from united meant she'd spent the last couple of weeks getting very minimal sleep.

alessia had instead spent hours and hours doom scrolling through what social media was saying about it all, only falling into a deeper spiral of anxiety and discomfort much as you tried to beg and plead with her to stop listening to the outside world.

the last couple of days had been particularly brutal.

ella was asking alessia a lot of questions she didn't have answers to which was frustrating her best friend to no end, the girl having been very vocal about supporting alessia no matter what but wanting to know what her plan actually was.

but without a confirmed plan forward alessia just felt the pressure increase at ellas questions, fear of the unknown only adding to the heavy load she was already carrying on her shoulders.

but today it was your sole purpose to take some of that weight away for her, and give her at least one day of feeling as though she wasn't weighed down by the expectations of others, every move constantly watched and over analysed by millions of strangers.

"good morning gorgeous." you hummed softly, climbing onto the bed beside her. "it's time to get up." you whispered poking gently at the blonde who whined tiredly and flopped onto her back, covering her face with her arms.

"come on less, time to wake up baby." you moved to carefully straddle her, torso tucked securely under the duvet as your own body rested atop the covers, legs settling either side of her blanket covered hips. "no it's not." alessia grumbled with a huff, tensing her biceps as you attempted to remove her arms from her face.

"yes it is, now stop covering that gorgeous face." you eventually won, intertwining your fingers with hers and pinning her hands against the pillow, bright blue eyes slowly fluttering open below you. "well hi there." you smiled like a lovesick puppy, letting go of her and moving your hands either side of her face, sweetly pecking at her lips a few times.

"m'tired." alessia slurred still half asleep, blinking a few times and stretching out underneath you with a quiet groan, hands coming to rest on your bare thighs as slender fingers traced absent minded shapes along your skin.

"i know you are my love which is why coffee and breakfast are ready and waiting downstairs." you laid down on her a little more, peppering her face with kisses causing the strikers lips to curl up into a smile, cheeks flushed rosy pink and eyes still a little puffy from her half asleep state your heart soared, you couldn't have been any more infatuated with her if you tried.

"today is alessia day so you have to get up because i've got plans for us." you announced happily, alessia tilting her head at your words. "but its not my birthday?" she frowned a little in confusion, arms sneaking up the back of your jumper and short nails scratching gently at your back like she knew you loved as you swooned at the gentle tired rasp of her voice in the morning.

"no its not, but i know you've been under a tremendous amount of pressure lately and i want you to have one day where you don't have to think about any of it, so todays all about you." you promised her sincerely, smoothing out the stress lines on her forehead where she was frowning and stealing a kiss.

"oh baby." you melted as the blonde sniffled, a few stray tears rolling from her ocean blue eyes which you tenderly wiped away with your sleeve. "why are you crying?" you asked softly, raking your hands through her hair as the striker wordlessly shook her head.

"i don't deserve you." she eventually managed to choke out, tanned arms moving to wrap around your smaller frame the girl sat up quickly and engulfed you into a tight hug, catching you a little off guard the blonde held onto you as if you could fly away at any sudden moment.

"don't be silly less you deserve nothing but the best and if i can even give you half of that i'm happy." you mumbled into her hair, your own arms snaking around her neck as the two of you sat there for a few peaceful moments, just wrapped up in one another's tender and loving embrace.

"i wasn't kidding though there is breakfast waiting downstairs." you pulled away with a smile, alessia tugging you down into a proper kiss and mumbling a thank you against your lips.

"may i please have my phone back just for a second to text tooney?" alessia asked hopefully, you having taken her phone for the day knowing that you wouldn't have a chance at getting your girlfriend to unwind and relax if she had access to her social medias.

"i already told tooney you'd be off the grid today and i love you so very much but i know you won't be able to resist the temptation to not go for a little look around about the contract drama on social media. so no, you may not." your words may have seemed harsh but you made sure your tone conveyed that they came from nothing but a place of care, alessia nodding along in understanding

"so what's next for alessia day then princess?" the striker smiled pulling herself up to sit on the counter next to you as you finished rinsing the dishes used for breakfast, having banned your girlfriend from helping as much as she'd fought you on it.

"face masks, do each others nails, pitch perfect one to three with your favourite snacks, massage, wash your hair for you, make pasta for dinner." you dried your hands and ticked off your remaining plans using your fingers, moving to stand in between the older girls legs.

"have i told you how much i love you?" alessia beamed at your words, doing her very best to focus all of her love, attention and energy into being alone with you in the little safe haven you'd both created behind the walls of your shared flat.

"mmm not in the last five minutes no?" you smiled softly, pressing your body against hers as the taller girl crossed her legs tightly around you. "sorry bella were you waiting for something?" alessia teased as you looked to her expectantly awaiting those famous three words, your heart skipping a beat as it always did anytime she spoke to you in italian. which the blonde was completely aware of and had no issues using to her advantage any time she so pleased.

"suddenly alessia day is cancelled." you rolled your eyes and attempted to walk away as the girl was quick to slide off the counter, tugging your back into her front and nestling her face into your neck.

"ti amo tantissimo, mia bella ragazza." alessia rasped quietly in your ear and smiled against your skin before repeatedly kissing your cheek, watching in delight as they blushed at her words.

"my pretty pretty girl." she continued, spinning you around in her arms and ducking so her mouth met yours and you wrapped your arms around her neck, tugging gently on her hair as she balled your jumper in her fists, pulling you impossibly close and deepening the kiss with a satisfied hum.

eventually needing to come up for air the two of you pulled away, exchanging a few sweet pecks before you grabbed her hand, tugging her out of the kitchen and whisking her away to continue with your plans.

"like this?" you asked holding up a freshly folded piece of ravioli, alessias smile softening at the way your face was scrunched up in concentration, the tip of your tongue just poking out of the corner of your mouth. "yeah, that looks good." alessia complimented, you adding your one piece to her basically completed pile, humming with satisfaction at your efforts.

"now please sit down. you've been so sweet and thoughtful today let me at least cook you dinner amore mio." alessia placed a tender kiss to your lips before playfully shooing you away as you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter, not wanting to be far from her.

she began to speak to you and at first you were following along and contributing to the conversation but as she began to roll out the next batch of pasta you found yourself minimized to only half listened hums in response.

fixated on the way her biceps flexed and tensed as she kneaded at the dough, eyes falling to the veins lining her ring clad hands as they poked and stretched at the pasta, alessia expertly rolling and manipulating it as she needed.

quickly noting your lackluster responses your girlfriend glanced up to find your gaze trained to her forearms, an amused smile settling on her lips as she purposefully rolled up the sleeves of her top and pressed a little harder than normal, flexing her arms and watching with a smug smile as you let out a small content sigh.

rolling out the last of the dough, having already filled and molded most of it into perfect little raviolis the older girl grew bored of your wordless responses. so with a mischievous glint in her eyes the italian grabbed a handful of flour and before you even had a moment to think you were surrounded by a tornado of white, choking on the flecks that made their way into your mouth and frantically rubbing at your eyes.

your girlfriend almost fell to the floor in laughter as you coughed a few times and attempted to shake the loose flour off the top of your head. "alessia!" you managed to choke out in shock, jumping down from the counter and grabbing your own handful of flour, quick to smack it into her head as she was too busy laughing at your misfortune to defend herself.

from that moment on your kitchen became a war zone, the two of you chasing one another around taking turns to douse the other, melodious laughter's echoing around the empty flat as your footsteps pounded against the floor.

"okay truce! we still have to clean this up." alessia glanced around at the ever growing mess as you paused, hand full of flour raised and ready to strike as the taller girl held her hands up in surrender, letting out a small sigh of relief as you emptied your hand onto the counter rather than into her once freshly washed hair.

what she failed to notice was you quickly slip an egg she'd not needed into the pocket of your her nike shorts, attaching yourself to her and bringing the blonde into a sweet kiss, her defenses instantly lowering and leaving her right where you wanted her, blissfully unaware of what you had planned.

"i think you mean you still need to clean this up because you started it!" you pulled away with a shake of your head, feeling the strikers hands slowly slide downwards, eventually settling themselves on your bum. "isn't the rule 'one cooks, one cleans'?" the blonde asked with a cheeky smile, squeezing at your bum and stealing a kiss before you could tell her off.

"is it?" you asked with a put on confused frown, hand slipping into your pocket and tightly gripping the egg, arm darting out to smash it over your girlfriends head as she was mid sentence. the girl let out a squeal at the unexpected attack, large hands grabbing for you as you tried to make a hasty getaway, almost slipping in the egg now joining the flour all over your once spotless floor the striker was quick to catch you, pulling you easily back to your feet.

though she should have known better given her own clumsy nature as no sooner had she steadied you did she slip herself, hands still settled protectively on your waist she unintentionally pulled you down with her.

the two of you shared a look before bursting out into laughter, rolling around on the floor and clutching at your stomachs, gradually crawling toward one another as alessias hand grabbed at the collar of your jumper, tugging you into a searing kiss as she carefully maneuvered herself to hover over you.

caught up in the blissful sensation of her mouth on yours you paid her no mind as she was quick to pin your hands to the cold tiled floor under her knees, settling herself on top of you before pulling away. it wasn't until you looked up and saw the knowing smirk on the blondes face did you realise what her intent was, the taller girl easily stretching up and grabbing what she was after from the counter.

"don't you dare." you warned seriously, squirming underneath her attempting to free yourself but it was to no use as your girlfriend was easily the stronger of the two of you. "you seemed to think it was pretty amusing, no?" alessias smirk widened as she twirled the egg around between her fingers.

"less please come on, you started it!" you whined in protest, trying to crane your neck away from her as her free hand reached out to grab your jaw, firmly holding your head in place as your stomach flipped at the action.

ignoring your pleas the striker gently tapped the egg on the floor before cracking it open on your forehead, watching with a grin as your glare up at her deepened and the yolk dripped down your face.

"so we have flour, egg...what's missing?" alessia pretended to think, mockingly stroking at her chin as you spat up all sorts of colorful language and threats in her direction as she grabbed the half full cup of water from the counter and you bucked your hips up trying to throw her off of you.

pushing her body down she was quick to once again have you at her mercy, the striker teasingly tipping the cup toward you but stopping right before the water tipped over the edge. "russo if you want to enter tomorrow a single woman i dare you to tip that cup." you spoke scarily calm, stormy eyes locked with hers in a silent promise.

"you're the cutest little ravioli i ever did see." alessia smirked, putting the cup down and dipping her head, breath warm against your lips as you shook your head, eyes still slit into a glare. "get off me." you demanded firmly, the striker lifting her hips to sit back on her knees and allowing you to wriggle your body out from underneath hers.

"clean this up and cook that, i'm going for a shower." you ordered as you carefully stood to your feet, crossing your arms and jutting your hip out to the side as the blondes smile only widened, sitting up on her knees and grabbing at you, hugging your lower half as her head rested on your stomach.

"has anyone ever told you that you're extra fit when you're mad?" the girls hands began to wander, fingers tugging gently at the waistband of your shorts. "just some annoying blonde one night stand i can't seem to get rid of." you quipped back, hands finding hers and moving them away.

"well she sounds like a nightmare." alessia tutted with a shake of her head, hands instead sliding up the bottom of your shorts, tracing lines on your inner thighs. "the worst. just so clingy and needy, some people can't take a hint i guess." you shrugged, beginnings of a smile ghosting at your lips as you ran your hands fondly through her flour filled hair.

"want me to get rid of her for you? sounds like she could be dangerous." the blonde offered, your breath hitching slightly as her hands moved even higher.

"oh yeah she's a stage five clinger, some would say even borderline a stalker! lets herself into my home and walks around with no pants on, eats all my food, hogs the duvet, whinges when i'm on her side of the bed but has a cry when i don't cuddle her enough, forces me to go to all of her stupid football matches then forces me into these disgustingly sweaty hugs when she wins, god she is terribly clumsy and-" having enough of your teasing alessia tugged on your matching top and short sending you falling into her awaiting grip, laying down on the floor with you now on top of her, your mouths moving together in perfect sync.

"sounds like you should break up with her." alessia mumbled into the kiss with an amused smile. "i've tried six times she just keeps coming back, i think she's in denial." you muttered as you moved your lips to focus on her neck, knowing exactly where the girl needed you.

"best alessia day ever." the blonde almost moaned as you softly bit down on her pressure point, hands firmly gripping at your back holding you on top of her. "you know i think i've decided its an ick you keep referring to yourself in the third person, kind of a turn off." you sat up far too quickly for her liking, looking down at her with pity as she rolled her eyes at your continued teasing's.

"i love you." alessia dropped the act and spoke sincerely, eyes shining with nothing but adoration and borderline obsession with the girl sat on top of her. "i love you more." you smiled, bending to pepper her face with kisses before again affirming you both really needed to shower and clean up, both of you getting to your feet.

"good thing you've got that clingy blonde stalker, could she clean up for us?" "yeah you know what i think i'll keep her around for a little while longer."

~ translations; bella - beautiful ti amo tantissimo, mia bella ragazza - i love you so much my beautiful girl amore mio - my love

#woso #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #alessia russo x reader #woso blurbs #fic recs

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wherenymphsroam · 5 months

Text

hiiii throwing this wip away because I’ve read it too much and don’t like it anymore hehe

cw: sliiiiiiight somno dynamics, dubcon because he touches reader in their sleep, masturbation (reader), dirty thoughts, ID Leon in mind

Dusk has long since fallen and past by the time Leon steps through the threshold of his condo. He’s soaking wet from the pouring rain outside, and he can’t help but scoff at how he left a few weeks ago amid a storm. The climate of Washington was seemingly unrelenting in its persistence to stay sodden.

He shucks his leather off, hanging it up and ignoring how rain droplets start to drip and gather into a puddle on the floor beneath — he’d deal with that in the morning. He was too busy clicking his belt loose, popping the first few buttons of his shirt as he stalks through the apartment with one destination in mind.

Stood at the bedroom door within the next few moments, he finally has half a mind to toe his shoes off. You know, the same ones that just left tracks of water through the house. Again, something ‘morning Leon’ would deal with in a few hours time. He is, however, more worried about the curled up form tucked under the covers of his bed.

“My little bed warmer,” he can’t help but chuckle to himself, his lips tugging up in the most genuine way they have in probably weeks. Stepping further into your shared bedroom, he finally rids himself of his button down, slipping out of the sleeves and folding it over a nearby desk chair on his way to the bed.

He stands there for a minute, gazing down at you adoringly. In reality, this last mission was far from one of his longer ones. It was just a few presidential appearances down in Philadelphia, then an incident in Chinese waters that had tied him up this time. A few weeks at best. But it didn’t diminish how tired he was, having to up and stride right into one mission after the last on the flip of the Presidents dime.

Sometimes, he wonders how he does this; being dragged around by the government and plopped wherever in the country. He was sure his body had probably aged at least ten years in advance internally by now. But he’d worry about that later. Because suddenly, he’s soothing a rough palm over your shoulder, sliding his hand under the hem of his t-shirt you donned.

“Taking a walk around my closet again, huh?” He coos down at your sleeping form, talking more to himself than you. He knows you can’t hear him, that you probably don’t register his fleeting touch.

You’re warm, pliant under his worn, weary hands. He barely restrains the shudder of delight that courses through him, melting and relieving him of all the undue stress the past month or so had served him. The feeling of your skin was like a stress reliever in of itself, your body his favorite piece of art to get lost in.

God, he was glad he was home.

Dancing along the soft slope of your shoulder under the material of your sleep shirt, he slides the sleeve up, eager to get a glimpse of any more of your skin. The groan that leaves him is unintentional, unable to be held back as he thumbs circles into your pliant bicep. Sharp eyes flick up to your face, looking for any signs that you’re waking up. And sure enough, you’re laid just as peacefully as you were when he walked in, your breathing steady and soft.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself coaxing the duvet down your torso, off your chest. ‘Just…. A bit more couldn’t hurt’, he tells himself. He ‘just wants to see you, that’s all’, as he slides the duvet down to pool around your hips now.

Leon’s has never considered himself a needy man. Not by a long shot. He’s not needy, and he didn’t miss you. No, he’s just cold. That’s why he’s slipping his hand now up the hem of your shirt, flattening his hand against the warmth your soft stomach provides.

He sighs, heavy and long, exhaling the weeks long amount of bullshit he had worked through yet again. Between stiff collared meetings with officials, unpredictable debacles, and rounds of combat, his nerves were shot.

Yet, your skin is warm, soft, inviting all the same.

Every time he steps back through the threshold of the apartment you share, it doesn’t matter what he saw, what he had to go out and do that go around. Because he knows that’s you’ll be here, soft and warm and eager for him, like his own personal piece of heaven. He could count on you to welcome him back into your arms, to take the weight of his weary body and heart into your hands.

“I don’t deserve you sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your temple.

One press of his lips turns into two, three, four. His kisses create a line down your jaw, smattering along your skin with affection.

With each connection his lips make with your skin, he finds himself lingering longer, his lashes fluttering shut, his brows knitting as he breathes you in. Unashamedly, he presses his nose into your cheek, under the hook of your jaw and inhales greedily, the scent of your shampoo and body wash you likely had only rubbed into yourself hours earlier making his cock swell in his pants.

Muttering a curse under his breath, his breath fans hot and shaking down your neck. Glancing up at your face for a moment, he concludes you’re likely in your deepest state of REM.

Somehow, that acknowledgment only goads the quickly growing coils of shame of himself, twisting and tightening in his gut. You were fast asleep, pretty as an angel beneath him, and here he was, breathing you in like some rabid dog. He was a grown ass man, for God’s sakes. And all it takes was a month away from you knocked his sense of shame, or lack thereof, on its ass?

His hand stops dead in its tracks when his fingers begin to glide along the swell of your chest, having started to graze just the underside. It had seemed his hand had a mind of its own while he was too busy scolding himself.

“Christ”, he mutters to himself, brows pinching, his eyes dilating as your (his) shirt slides tantalizingly further up your torso. He drinks in every inch, every centimeter of skin that is exposed under the dim lighting of the room like a man starved.

Delicately, gingerly, his fingers find your nipple under your shirt, coaxing it to stiffen under slow and deliberate swipes of his thumb across it. It’s only a moment later when it starts to harden, drawing a rumble of delight from deep within his chest.

“So eager even in your sleep, huh?” He murmurs, breathless in his attempt to diffuse the tension wringing his stomach taut. It helps him feel better, if even for just a moment, knowing your body accepts him even in its most vulnerable state. Except the loosening of that band within him stiffens and stabs him in the gut a moment later, shame in himself razor sharp and blunt as it sears him.

What was he doing? You were asleep, likely exhausted from the day you may of had. This wasn’t fair of him, touching you like this when you don’t even know he’s home.

He can only grimace when his body betrays him, his tongue dips out to wet his lips — subconscious, hungry. He was starved, having gone weeks without your, your body, your touch, your smell-

Another deep breath in, and he’s noticing something else. Notes of tanged, old sweat, maybe by a few hours hanging in the air, clinging to your skin. A tackiness to your nape, your hair curled ever so slightly at the base. He finds himself pausing, eyes flickering over your skin.

The slope of your breasts under your night shirt, the way it’s slid ever so slightly off your shoulder. Upon tugging the duvet further down, off your hips, down your thighs, it’s only then that he pieces everything together. Sure, maybe you chose his shirt to sleep in because you missed him, because his cologne and musk was weaved into the cotton after use. It was an easy excuse.

However, he knows that’s not the only reason.

Inner thighs sticky, shiny with the drying evidence of your desire, your toy still nestled between your plush skin, it’s all far too incriminating. Maybe his sweet baby was a bit more desperate for him than he realized. A bit more perverted than he ever cared to give you credit for, getting off in his clothes.

Briefly, he wonders how long you were at it, how good it was. It must’ve been good, he wanted it to be. Was today specifically tiring? Was your climax that good? Or was it a mix of both that had you passing out before you could get cleaned up. That’s usually his job, cleaning you up after a long session. Not that he minds, not in the slightest.

But… he’s here now, right? Sure, you’re asleep now… and maybe he didn’t get the pleasure of watching the show… but it’s still his job. It’s the least he can do after being away for so long.

Right?

#ummmm yeah jus spitting this out here #was really excited abt this one but liiiike #ew it’s sat in my google docs for like two months now #three maybe #next !#leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #yaps. ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚˚#late night stroll.˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

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tyunkus · 4 months

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nerdy jock college roommate tyun who is on the deans list and works out shirtless in the living room 🙏🙏 comes and gets you from every party you go to and get shitfaced 🙏 he’s sooo mean n u think he hates u but he’s really just trying to keep himself from fucking you stupid

lia dont play with me ✋✋ i will literally go batshit crazy ✋✋✋ THIS IS SOOOOO HOOOOOTTTTT i love unassuming hot men who dont actively try to be hot but thats what makes them hot FUCK

like god… you’re a few months into uni and while your roommate was a little aloof and distant at first you like to think hes warmed up to you at least a LITTLE bit 😭 but tbh you’re mostly just impressed and a little intimidated by how well he does in pretty much all aspects of his life .. i imagine you’d probably find out first about how well he does academically and you pin him as the regular nerd type but then… two weeks into school, when you’re walking into the kitchen to make breakfast one morning you see him in the living room SHIRTLESS,, huffing and puffing doing fuckin’ bicep curls or something and you’re like Oh!!!! OH!!!!

anyways you spend the majority of your time in his presence trying to ignore how fucking wet he makes you without even trying LMFAOOO just bc he’s so effortlessly smart, begrudgingly helping you with assignments.. and hes so needlessly hot when he tries talking to you after he’s done with a workout and his toned stomach and strong arms r covered in a light sheen of sweat HBFNFNG

AND THE PARTIES… please. at some point the way he looks at you before you head out with your friends - eyes all dark and heavy, brows furrowed slightly together, jaw clenched - gets a little too intense but youre also certain he doesnt rly like you that much so youre left with mixed signals and the urge to drink it all away. but even when he picks you up hours later when youre shitfaced and giggly and touchy and enjoying the weight of his strong arms hoisting you up a little toooo much.. and hes just murmuring about how ridiculous you are, how he’s never doing this again.. even then you’re sure you’re not imagining the way he takes a good look at you and swallows thickly.. the way his eyes rake over your figure.. the way he hesitates a bit before he turns away from you and tries to focus on getting you both back home instead..

the truth is you’ve caught him - read him like a book, really. but he won’t let you know that. how is taehyun supposed to tell you that the dress you’re wearing is making him a little crazy, the way it clings onto just the right spots, the way it shows off all the nicest parts of your body he wants to keep for himself, within the four walls of your shared dorm? how is he supposed to tell you that the way you look after parties - sleepy eyes, teasing smile, lipstick smudged at the corner of your mouth - gets him so hard so quickly it makes him feel like a stupid schoolboy again? that the past few weeks - months, even, he’s been so attentive to your every move, just watching you talk and laugh and exist makes him want you more and more every second? that the only thing stopping him from taking you by the waist and bending you over his lap, the only thing stopping him from pulling your panties down to your ankles and finally getting his hands on that perfect body and pretty pussy, is the fact that he wants you to beg for it first, beg for him like a good girl?

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #taehyun hard hours #taehyun smut #taehyun hard thoughts

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matchadobo · 6 months

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KIDD; babysitter

wc: 3462 summary: reuniting with the kid you're babysitting after nine years certainly went the way you didn't expect it to warning/s: nsfw, fem reader, p0rnp0rnp0rn, cute little kidd, actual s3x happens proceed with caution, faces1tting, p in v, no grooming don't worry they're all wholesome when kids during adults is spicy tho 😳

you used to babysit this little redhead when you were sixteen and he was nine. he always had this prominent scowl that contorted the serenity on his face. he had the palest skin you've ever seen, well at least back then, you haven't encountered anyone with the degree higher than that of his. he had the richest red in his hair, thick curls hanging at the sides of his chubby cheeks.

he wasn't a rowdy, loud kid. he was a mean fucking kid, but somehow, you two can get along in the long run. maybe it's because you weren't one to discipline him and just let him do his shit, only cleaning up if his parents would be close to come home.

but what pisses you off the most though is how he always comes home being the dirtiest rugrat on the neighborhood. what's weird about it is he doesn't even roll on the muddy roads nor play with other children, them children always says he was very mean to them. he always had a wrench in one hand a contraption he made in the other, it's one of the times where he voluntarily comes to you to show off the said contraption. you'd have the responsibility to clean him up in the bath afterward, begrudgingly.

it lasted only when you were eighteen, school was getting hectic and he was gradually growing up to not need a sitter. you two developed a bizarre relationship of unanimous silence and stay-in-your-business shit to have gone for two years. but what you've noticed in your second year is that he had grown distant; he avoided your eyes, he gets shy when you ask him about his 'contraption', he doesn't meet you as a rugrat no more, and he actually does the chores you mostly do. maybe he really is growing up, not really needing a sitter.

you buried those memories at the back of your head, nine years have passed and now you're on a stable business on your flower shop. the reason this surfaced from your memory is when you saw the owner of the new tattoo parlor that had been built just a week ago. he had the same rich shade of red for his curly, voluminous locks and somewhat rivaled the skin color of the kid you were babysitting. you normally don't pay him any mind, business is too busy. that is until, he visited your shop, seemingly buying something for his girlfriend.

"there any chance i could get somethin' more than a bouquet?" he raised a brow, leaning by the counter to get to your level while you count his change.

"sure, anything else you want, sir?" you smiled, returning his change. you could see the shift in the glint in his eyes when your fingers touched.

"a chance to take you out and give these to you." he gestured for the bouquet of tulips he was clutching on those monstrous biceps. you took a moment to process his statement, blushing intensely afterwards.

"i-i uh... am not really available for those." you avoided his gaze, he towered over you but he feels like he was getting closer. his metallic scent growing pungent.

he took a moment to study you, before sighing. "of course, i'm just across, yeah? stay adorable, mo ghràdh (my love)." he winked, leaving with the bouquet.

you sat down on your chair, knees failing from what just happened. an incredibly hot UNIT just asked you out?! and you were too dumb to refuse?! you had no choice but to forget about it, you weren't really one to date.

few weeks had passed and you seem to have forget about it, you try your best to not glance at the parlor each time the owner is out. you don't know why but something deep in you wants to avoid and refuse anything related to him.

"oh my god, name?!" an old woman who was still radiating despite her age greeted you from the entrance, you took a moment and furrowed your brows. only to recognize the woman who took you in as a sitter nine years ago.

it took a lot of catching up, talking about your life mostly. you two were laughing and sharing stories, until she mentioned her son that fucking owns the tattoo parlor across your shop. the reason why she's here is she wants to give a bouquet to his son, for a successful half year.

your face couldn't muster up the shock that shook you to your core. she had to ask if you were okay. later enough, she was so excited that she planned to have a dinner with her family with you to catch up. well, you were pretty close with them in those two years. it'd be pretty rude to refuse this time.

and that's why you're sitting in this affluent house with high ceilings and shiny floors, across the redhead you remembered as someone so tiny was now bigger than you. the motherfucker never took his eyes off you, eyes that meant something more than curiosity.

"he's waaayy bigger than me, it's crazy!" you replied to the mother, laughing to reduce your uneasiness.

"right?! kidd was so focused on bulking up he's bigger than all of us!" his mother joked, nudging his son.

"that's enough about me, mammy. i'm more curious about name here, mind humorin' us about yourself?" he set his utensils down, clasp his hands, elbows resting on the table, and rested his chin atop his fists as he stared you down.

"hm? you've become so assertive now, kidd. back then, you were quite shy, hm? moreso, mean. have that changed too?" you tried matching up to his forwardness, raising a brow and holding his gaze.

"wanna fuck around and find out?" he cocked a brow, eyes narrowing.

there was silence, it's as if the room dimmed and the only light that radiated was the one between the two of you as you two had a mini staring contest on who'd look away first. you can't help it either, his golden orbs were something else, it's hypnotizing.

"gosh, you two were just like this back then! always having little bickerings!" his mother laughed, shaking you both to reality that you two weren't alone. "i'll let you two catch up, i'll just clean up." you almost begged her to stay, you don't know how to survive a room alone with him.

"hey name, come to the pool with me." he stood up, sauntering across the plutocratic house. you obeyed.

"why? you're inviting me to swim?"

once you've reached the pool place, he turned around, awfully close. "why don't we recreate some memories, yeah?" a grin made its way to his tinted lips. he simultaneously walked backwards to the pool as he unbuttoned the shirt that was way too tight on him.

your heart almost stopped in your chest. you two used to swim together during his birthday, you and a few other homies of his. "kidd... we aren't kids anymore."

by the time you complained, he was already shirtless, a body of a fucking greek god. he was unbuttoning his pants, now only his boxers that highlighted something too fucking distracting saliva was stuck on your throat. "and? can't you fucking swim now?" he teased, snickering. he wasted no time in diving, some of the water splashing on you.

"now i'm all wet, thanks." you sarcastically remarked, flapping your arms to dry off. he resurfaced, hair beautifully slicked back. he ran his hand across his face to dry off some water before shaking his head a bit to dry off his hair. he laughed a little, looking up at you. "well, seems you really have to get in now."

"how is that a reason to swim?" you placed your hands on your waist.

"come here, i'll tell you." he got closer at the edge of the pool, motioning his hand to ask you to get closer.

"i know this trick, eustass! i won't fall for it!" you raised your hands in defense, backing away from the pool.

"not if i drag you here though." he got up from the pool by propelling himself with his arms. body dripping as he ran to you and scooped you up like you weigh nothing. "ain't this nostalgic? you were the one carrying me like a sack back then."

"w-what the fuck?! you're so wet let me down!" you hit his chest, wiggling in his grasp as he gets closer to the pool.

"aye." he dropped you by the pool, shortly joining you afterward.

you both resurfaced, you gasped for air as he got closer to you. "i see you became even more of an asshole." you ran your hand across your face to get rid of some water.

his canines tugged at his lip as he grinned. "and you became even more damn whiny."

you two laughed for a moment, leaning closer. you two stood closer, getting lost in each other's eyes as well as the current of the pool.

"your eyes got more... golden." you mused at him, alternating glances at his orbs. he grinned a little.

"yeah? your smile got brighter too, you know that?" you were about to mutter out an insult but you slipped at the inclined floor towards the deeper part of the pool from the sudden push of the water. if it weren't for kidd pulling you closer by your arm as his other hand fell on your waist under water to pull you faster, you would've drowned.

"f-fucking shit!" you cursed, clinging onto his chest. "g-get me out of here, fuck!" you drummed at his chest and he bursted into laughter.

he abided, walking you to the stairs. he fetched a towel for you, throwing it above your head as he wrapped one around his hips.

"just borrow mammy's clothes, bathroom's on the left." he instructed, rubbing the towel on your head vehemently.

"okay, you can stop fucking with me now, kidd." you moved away from him, cursing out his grin now that he'd ruined your hair.

you did as he said. scanning through the clothes after washing up. you threw on a summer romper and dried your hair with the towel, walking outside to get some water on the kitchen.

as you were about to close the fridge door, you saw kidd was waiting on the other side of the room. "jesus christ, i told you to stop fucking with me!" you stomped on the floor, fists clenched.

he smiled a little, walking towards you. "not my fault you're jumpy."

"no, you just like to fuck with me, that's it."

"not entirely wrong."

"what's the other half?"

"that i do want to fuck you."

you were about to laugh, only to realize the meaning behind his words. you looked at him with the reddest face and the widest eyes. "k-kidd?!"

"yeah? want me to say it again? little closer by your ear, perhaps?" he leaned down closer, scrunching his nose.

you moved away, fanning yourself. "i'm just gonna pretend i didn't hear that-"

he grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer. "hey, that's just being unfair. you heard me loud and clear, bòidheach (beautiful). your face is enough damn reason." he tapped your chin, grinning as he stared at the redness of your cheeks. "and i'm sure you know how i want this to go, hm?"

"n-no kidd, this- we're in your mother's house...!" you looked around, looking for signs of his mother.

"and? i suppose you're aware that this is my house too and i have my room upstairs. kitchen'll do though."

"n-no! what are you talking about?! how the fuck did you reach that point where you wanted to do that with me?" the irritation was evident in your voice but that bastard was enjoying the show.

"well," he placed a hand on the fridge's surface, his biceps flexing and the veins on the crook of his elbow become more prominent, you were so fucking distracted your cheeks we're quite literally on fire. "innocent lil crushes evolve to somethin' more when you put on mini fuckin' skirts and tight fuckin' dresses everyday, it's hard not to look when you're just across the damn street, aye?" he eyed you, focused on the view of your cleavage from above.

"stop gawking at me, you pervert...!" you covered your chest. "i am not sleeping with you, feels weird."

"look, name." he shifted his weight, now crossing his arms. he didn't miss the way your eyes focused on how the bulge in his muscles got tighter and bigger. "it seems that you've got the idea that i'm still the little boy that you used to take care of, yeah? lemme do somethin' about that, m'eudail (darling)." his gaze darkened, his hands brushed by your arms before it finally settled on your shoulders.

there was silence. he had that cocky smirk while you pressed your lips together, trying to contain yourself from exploding. he cleared his throat, spreading his arms in surrender. "alright, i won't pressure ya. but know that i'll be waitin' in my room, last room on the right corner of the fourth floor." he winked before leaving you, heating up like a goddamn bonfire.

you took a moment before sliding down and sitting yourself down on the floor. it seems so fucking enticing, he seems so fucking enticing. the way you always catch his golden eyes that was highlighted by that beautiful red fucking locks almost undressed you, the way his toned fucking abdomen peeked from his shirt each time he lifts his arms and you see a hint of that happy trail, and how his thighs looked so goddamn huge on his ripped jeans.

"fucking hell, kidd." you mumbled to yourself, tugging on your locks. it didn't took you long enough to finally come to terms with it. so you gave in. it's just one time, right?

you made your way to the series of floors, passing by family portraits and baby pictures. you giggled to yourself seeing lots of pictures of both of you. soon enough, you reached the tall black door that seemed too conspicous that it indeed belonged to him. you hesitated a little before knocking with shaking fists.

seconds after, he opened the door with his shirt off. you tried your best to not gawk at how built this man is. he leaned an arm on the door that was halfway open, a knowing smirk on his lips as he eyed you up and down once more.

"i know what you're going to say, but i will only agree for one. fucking. time." you gritted your teeth, getting closer and raising your index finger at him. he nodded like an asshole, smile never faltering.

he placed his hand on the upper door frame, simultaneously leaning down closer to you while holding your gaze. "sure, cupcake. let's see how long you can hold your tongue."

you narrowed your gaze and there was a little staring contest between the two of you. he moved a little when he saw you trying to squeeze yourself inside, laughing at how cute you are. once you were walking inside he spoke, "why the change of heart?" he shut the door, flicking the lock.

you took a look around his room, it was mostly dark and reds, of course. littered with band posters and a spray painted wall that seemed to be an original art by him. red led lights wrote his name at the top of his black, tufted headboard. "prove me wrong about earlier, i guess."

he got closer, arms gently prying your crossed arms off, and landing on the buttons of your dress. "right, let's get into it, yeah?"

once he unbuttoned all of it and you let him, you stood there as his hands rested on either sides of your bare waist. his hands were cold. you linked foreheads as you exchanged deep breaths from the contact. "your hands are cold." you muttered, his metallic perfume clouding your senses. "and you're fuckin' sweatin', princess." he complained at the small beads of sweat on your lower back.

his hands roamed down your cheeks, squeezing both with much fervor before giving it a smack. you flinched, hands landing on his chest. "asshole." he cocked a grin at your remark, squeezing tighter to pull your hips closer.

your hands roam the span of his chest, across his shoulders, and up to his neck. your fingers traced the edges of his face, up to his tinted lips. soon enough, he licked the tip of your fingers before biting the skin a little. "come here, give me a kiss. i know you wanna." he growled, hands traversing to where your bra clips where.

you ignored him but complied, pulling him down to your level and colliding your lips with his. boy, was it the wildest kiss you've ever experienced. he immediately slid his tongue inside, taking control of your mouth. he smiled through the kiss before biting your lower lip when he felt you hitching a breath and wrapping your arms around his neck. he swiftly carried you by your bum and wrapped your legs around his waist.

it didn't take long enough for both of all of your clothes to be on the floor and now you two are hungrily making out on his bed. you sat on top of his lap while he sat like a fucking king on his bed, leaning by the headboard as he played with your ass until it's red. he relishes on how your folds periodically rub across his length, how your tits bounced on his neck and chest, and how warm and good your body feels when he hugs it.

"sit on my face." he ordered, muttering through hot pants and wet kisses. you almost fell on his lap if it weren't for his grip on your hips.

"w-what?" your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed, as if you weren't naked with him doing unholy things.

"you heard me, lovely." his eyes darkened, smile growing. "i'll fuckin' drag you here if i have to."

so you did, you weren't sure how to position yourself, it was your first time sitting on someone. so you carried yourself a little, afraid of suffocating him.

"baby," he peeked after giving one languid lick on your crevice. "when i tell you to sit on my face, sit. fucking. down." he pulled your hips down, both hands settled on your thighs as you completely took over his face.

oh, he took his time alright. slurping, sucking, and biting while he bullies your ass. you had to get a hold of the headboard because of how this goddamn animal devours you. "s-slow d-down- fuck!" you almost squealed, pulling on his hair. you felt him smile through your lips.

you were worn out afterward, overstimulated and he haven't even used his length. he gave you kiss on the cheek before pumping his length, "i-i don't think it'll fit..."

he bursted into laughter, "you're too fuckin' adorable, come here." he pulled you closer by the neck. "i'll make sure you'll beg for it later, don't worry."

and the bastard really did make you beg for it. he's got you pinned down between his arms with you back facing him as he rams you from behind. the repeated contact of your skin resounded around the four walls of his room. your chin was buried down his black pillows that scented so much like him it made you go even more crazy, your eyes were rolling at the back of your head as you utter out slurred curse words, drunk on his dick. he was fucking prying your walls open. his length was too girthy and huge. he always makes it a mission to reach your cervix with each thrust. you fisted the sheets, going crazy with each movement of his hips.

he leaned down and bit on your shoulder before licking on your ear. "enjoying yourself a little too much? you're way too fuckin' loud there, not that i'm complainin'. just hold on a little, i'm close." he gave the top of your head a kiss before returning back to his position, raising your ass up to have a sturdy grip and a harder thrust.

"i-i'm cumming," you slurred between your moans, toes curling and thighs shivering. and not too long after, you both came in unison, panting and whining against each other as he leaned his forehead on your shoulder.

"still a little boy?"

"shut the fuck up, you came all over me."

"why don't we clean up like you used to do to me, yeah?"

"you'll fuck me again in the bath, i'd rather not."

feeding y'all :>

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chocolatechubby · 4 months

Text

Maybe it was the glass of heavy cream and dozen gingerbread men I ate just before bedtime. Or maybe it was the fact that it was Christmas Eve, and the residue of waiting up for Santa Claus hadn’t diminished in the 23 years since I was six years old. Maybe it was the hard on that wouldn’t go away if I thought about growing fat and round. Whatever it was, I couldn’t sleep. I reluctantly pulled my bloated body from my warm bed to take a piss and a crap in the bathroom. On the way to the john, I passed the Christmas tree in the living room. The shiny packages underneath danced with the reflections of twinkling lights. I’d made quite a haul this year. I was pretty sure the small neatly wrapped package in the front was an Ipod from my mom. And I was pretty sure that the envelope from my ex-partner was a membership to a gym. My gaining sixty pounds had a lot to do with our break-up. It was nice that we were still friends. “Funny…” I thought. “The thing I REALLY want Santa to bring me won’t fit under a tree.”

When I had finished in the bathroom, I took a long look at myself in the mirror. The 160lb gym rat was gone. There in front of me was a 220lb jock-gone-soft. Since I had continued to go to the gym, I was thick and solid. The roundness of my face was beginning to cut away my cheek definition. The beginnings of a double chin made my cock jump. The definition in my arms was beginning to fade: I loved putting on sleeveless shirts and seeing the thick round guns that were once defined biceps and triceps stretching through. My legs were growing huge. The size 38 pants were straining to keep my thighs in. And I had a real belly. Not the beginning gut I was so proud of in college, but a thick waist protruding over my jeans and a noticeable round mound that jutted out from my plump tits and curved forward six inches. It had gotten a number of rubs and stares from my co-workers over the past few weeks. I thought my pecker was going to fall off from all the jerking off I did in the office restrooms after each “Woah! When’s the baby due?” or “You’d better lay off the holiday food Chris!” But it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted to look like all of those fellas that I admired online. I wanted people to move out of the way when I walked down the street. I wanted to look in the mirror and be awed by my girth. I reached down in my shorts and began massaging my cock. I imagined what it would be like to have to work pass mounds of belly fat just to touch it. I could feel my hard on growing, and my dick was responding to both my touch and my fantasy. It wouldn’t be long now—at least not for the explosion from my balls. The weight gain would take more time.

As I was going for climax, I heard a sound. Not from me but coming from the living room. At first faint, it grew louder—a slow and steady rise and fall. A snore? It sounded like someone snoring. Maybe somehow the air conditioner had turned itself on. I listened a little more intently. No, this was a HUMAN sound. Someone had broken into my apartment! I pulled up my shorts, looked around for a blunt object, grabbed the toilet brush, and headed towards the sound. As I rounded the corner, I was not prepared for what I saw. There in my leather armchair next to the Christmas tree, snoring to high heaven was Santa Claus.

Only it wasn’t Santa Claus. I mean he was dressed in a beautiful red suit—far superior to all those costumed Santas that you see in department stores. This suit looked like it had been tailored for him: luxurious and warm—trimmed in ermine and leather. It fit his big round frame to a “t.” He had to weigh 350, if a pound, and his thick beard was close-cropped, neatly trimmed, and a deep auburn like the wavy hair that curled from under his fur cap. This guy couldn’t have been more than thirty-five years old. And he was gorgeous. During my whole relationship with my ex, Zach, I had never cheated. But I will admit—especially towards the end when he started nagging more about the weight—I had serious fantasies about dudes like the one asleep in my easy chair, but they never included being robbed by them.

Next to him on the floor was a big, empty red velvet sack. I had to admit: this guy had class. I’d read stories in the newspaper about thieves breaking into houses dressed as Santa Claus and taking people’s presents. I never thought it would happen to me. Pictures of the Grinch stuffing Cindy Lou Who’s Christmas tree in his sack crowded my brain. Well this sucker wasn’t getting MY Ipod without a fight!

I tiptoed over to where the hot thief was snoring, and I kicked his engineer boot and stepped back—toilet bowl brush held high. “Hey you!” I shouted. The guy stirred. I gave him my best grimace and said: “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my place?!” He opened one eye and peered up at my brush and me. He grinned (and of course he had a killer smile) and said, “What are you going to do? Tidy Bowl me to death?”

I wasn’t quite ready for such a laid-back attitude. It took me aback for a moment. “No, smart ass…” I answered finally. “… I’m going to call the police and have you hauled off to spend Christmas in jail—that’s what I’m going to do!!!” I bellowed triumphantly. “Oh, and for future reference: Santa has a WHITE beard—not red! You are NO Kris Kringle.”

“Actually, his beard isn’t white. It’s silver. And you’re right…I’m not Kris Kringle. He’s my dad. I’m KARL Kringle—his youngest son.”

Of all the responses in all the scenarios that I could imagine, not one of them included that particular statement. I stood in shock with my mouth open. He fumbled around for a bit and spoke: “This is what I get for breaking the first rule of Christmas Delivery: Don’t Fall Asleep. It’s just that it’s been a long night and seeing as this is my Last Stop and all, I couldn’t help myself.” He yawned and started hauling his big belly out of my chair “Look, don’t set off your loaded brush—I’m just looking for my wallet.” He was even more appealing standing. He was a fireplug: about my height (which made him somewhat short), he reminded me of Sean Astin as Samwise Gamgee in “The Lord of the Rings”: much bigger, but as cute as he could be. He patted himself down, searching around his big gut and barrel chest for a bulge. “Ahh, here it is!” He pulled out a simple leather wallet and flipped it open. “See.” He said.

I slowly inched forward and took the wallet out of his chubby hand. There he was, smiling with rosy cheeks. NORTH POLE DMV: Driver’s Permit was printed in white at the top of a red and green card. “May operate cars, trucks, motorcycles, snow skis and High-Capacity Sleighs” was prominently placed in the lower right hand corner.

“Real cute” I smirked. “So you’re a clever bandit. I’m sure your cell mate will get a real kick out of your sense of humor.”

“Man, some things don’t change, do they?” He smiled. “You’re still a closet believer posing as a skeptic aren’t you? I remember when you were six years old and wanted ‘Dream Date Ken’. You said to yourself, ‘I’ll believe in Santa if he brings me Ken.’ When you didn’t see it under the tree that Christmas morning, you were really sad, but you said, ‘I knew he wasn’t real.’ Boy were you surprised when you found it…”

“Hidden in your stocking!”

“Hidden in my stocking!”

We said it at the exact same time. My mouth was agape. “How did you know that?” I uttered. “Because I asked Dad if I could put it there.” Karl said. “I was twelve. Dad had been training me to take a route of my own. I had been coming with him since you were a baby—watching you grow up. I wanted you to work harder to trust your beliefs.”

I stumbled to my couch and sat down. This was incredible! So it was true: Santa really DID exist. “Yup.” Karl said, as if he’d read my mind. “Only the doubters have got part of the story right: he DOESN’T circle the world and deliver toys in one night. He hasn’t done that in a few hundred years. He has help from his sons.”

“Sons” I gasped, with emphasis on the “s.” “You mean there’s more of you?”

“Oh yeah” said Karl. “It's the family business. There’s Kris Jr., Kevin, Kurt, Klaus, Kyle, Keith, and Kwame.”

“Kwame?” I asked.

“Yeah, a little incident with dad and an African Queen a few years back…we don’t talk about that.” He whispered.

“So we divide up the earth and each take a chunk. Dad spends most of his time these days with the kids that need him most. He took India and New Orleans this year.”

“I see…” I said. “And you got my area.”

“Well, not so much GOT, as CHOSE your area. I told you. I’ve been watching you for many years. I’ve been waiting for that jerk of a boyfriend of yours to exit the picture. I’ve been crushing on you for a while now. I happen to be gay.”

“Oh.” My dick was jumping at regular intervals now. “Are all of you uh…?”

“Gay?” He said. “I doubt it. Nobody’s talking so we don’t really know. I’m pretty sure Kwame is. He keeps picking San Francisco as one of his stops. Listen, do you mind if I make myself comfortable?” he asked. “Uh…no.” I stammered, still trying to make sense of the fact that I had a big, bearded Santa Claus in my living room that was hot for me. “Great” he said and proceeded to undo his belt and buttons. His velvet coat fell to the floor, revealing the magnificent fat physique bulging from his white undershirt. His big, gorgeous arms were covered with a layer of soft red fur, and I could see tendrils of the same curling from under the neckline of his t. He began playing with his nipples as he slowly moved his ball belly towards me. “Listen,” he said again. “…do you mind if I make YOU more comfortable?”

“Uh…no.” was my startled reply.

We stood face to face. The heat between us was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before. He smelled of smoldering fires and apples and cinnamon. He leaned in, and I felt his cock. “So THAT’S what’s meant by Christmas Sausage! “I thought. He pulled me into him and whispered, “I’ve been waiting 29 years for this” and moved his tongue over my lips and into my mouth. He tasted like warm cocoa. His belly met mine and I moaned at the solid thickness of his girth. Our tongues swirled together in a hot dance that left me weak and energized at the same time. I could have stayed like that forever.

Karl ran his thick hands over my nipples, slightly squeezing them between his fingers. He slowly traveled down to my belly and began massaging it with both hands. I was in heaven. “Such a beautiful starter belly. I was so hot for you when you started putting on weight that I had to stop working in the toyshop—couldn’t concentrate. Kept making Barbie dolls with penises!”

“Oh.” I mumbled—trying to get his tongue back in my mouth.

“And now I’m with you” he said, caressing my cheek. “And we’ve got all night. He leaned over and kissed my gut. “I’m going to give you that present that won’t fit under the tree.”

For a moment I was stirred from my reverie. Had he really the power to know what my deepest desires were? I tested him. “Oh yes? “I whispered in his ear. “What might that be.”

“Don’t be coy Chris” he smiled. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. By dawn, you will be fed, fucked, and fat as a house. Are you ready to get started?”

TO BE CONTINUED

#ccstories

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