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scarletlizzard · 1 month

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Inked Desires - Part 2

Read Part 1 right here

Summary: After your one night stand with a stranger turns into a regular hookup, feelings begin to develop between you and Natasha. A night out at the bar with your friends has her begging wanting more with you.

Pairing: gp!Natasha x fem!Reader

Tags MINORS DNI: natasha has a dick, buff out this world & covered with tats and piercings, little bit of yearning and pining, mentions of alcohol, smut, blowjob, unprotected sex, breeding, begging, miscommunication

Masterlist

A/N: Part 1 blew up like crazy! I never ever thought I would EVER get that many notes. Especially for, essentially, a smut piece I wasn't used to writing. After being asked a few times, I agreed to make a part 2, buuut I've been in a (bad) writing rut lately. So I wanna shout out the person who gave me so many good ideas and an actual plot to work with. Y'all can thank just her for there actually being a part 2 cause there almost wasn't one 🙏 Thanks for helping, kisses for your big brilliant brain.

Hopefully, she and y'all like it? It's a bit longer. Let me know what you think, please, and thank you thank you so much for reading 💞

That being said, there will be a part 3 😄

"Split? Like down the middle?" Kate asks with a look of shock on her face. You walk in step beside her along the concrete path on campus.

"Right down the middle," you laugh and adjust the bag on your shoulder, thinking back to just a few days ago when Natashas skillful tongue worked its magic on your body. Your cheeks heat up at the memory.

That first night you met, Natasha had given you a kiss goodbye and gave you her number before you took a very drunk Kate Bishop home. Since then you had seen the redhead multiple times over the course of the last few weeks. Neither of you seemed to be able to keep your hands off of each other. Each time you met it was for sex, and even the time she had taken you to dinner it ended with you getting fucked into her mattress again.

You knew the basics about each other, where you lived, eachothers jobs... the more you thought about it the more it upset you. The physical level the two of you were on was heavenly, but really, well, you barely knew her.

Kates voice interrupts your thoughts as you enter the English building, and you stop walking as she does.

"What was that?" You ask, looking to the smirk plastered on her face with curiosity.

"I said, speak of the devil," she chuckles and nods her head in the direction of a very tall Natasha striding your way. "See you in there," Kate says and walks into the classroom, leaving you in the hallway.

You want to drown in the sight of her, wearing dark jeans and a white t-shirt with old, dirty vans on her feet. You smile, trying not to drool at the way you can see the pops of color show from underneath her shirt or the way the sleeves seem too tight against her biceps as she grips the strap of her backpack.

"Hey there..." Natasha greets you with a smile, head pointing down as she stills before you. "Been a few days, haven't heard from you," she adds, her eyes baring into yours. You want to slap yourself for not replying to her text by the almost hurt look in her eyes.

"Well it hasn't even been a week, you miss me already?" You ask her with a little tilt of your head up at her, biting your lip as you see a blush spread across her cheeks. Her hand moves to the side of her neck, scratching at the ink awkwardly.

"No, no. Wait, I mean -" She lets out a sigh and shakes her head as you giggle at her. It was interesting, the difference in her appearance verses this nervous demeanor. "Maybe I did?" Natasha raises an eyebrow, the silver ring lifting higher.

"I might have missed you too," you shrug casually and watch as her face eases back into a smile. "I'm sorry I haven't texted, I've just been so busy with school and work." You point to the classroom next to you that Kate had entered. She follows the direction and nods.

"No worries, you're a busy lady. I actually took Mr. Furys class last year. Maybe I could take you for a coffee and give you some tips? Or maybe just um, talk?" Natasha asks, her tone quiet as she looks down to you.

You smile at the sincerity in her eyes. "I'm free after this class?" You take a step back, towards the room and match the wide smile on her lips.

"Sounds perfect," Natasha nods, and you can't ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest. Instead of taking another step away you walk forward, leaning up on your tip toes to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

Natasha can feel the burn on her cheeks, the affect you had on her drove her wild. You lean back and smile at her flustered state, leaving her alone in the now empty hallway.

An hour and a half later, you emerge from the classroom, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around at the sight of Natasha sitting on the floor. She had a book in her hand, closing it the moment she saw you and Kate walking towards her.

"Have you been sitting there this whole time?" You ask and tilt your head, watching the way her muscles flex as she runs a hand through her auburn hair.

"Uh, maybe?" A small blush hints on her cheeks, and she smiles at you and your friend. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she says and holds out her hand in front of Kate.

Kate chuckles at the formality, and you hit her arm, giving her a look. She shakes Natashas hand, "Kate... nice to finally meet you," She smiles back and looks next to her at you. "I'll see you tomorrow night, you should invite your friend."

You roll your eyes at Kates tease but nod and tell her you'll see her later.

"Coffee?" Natasha asks, and the ridiculous grin on her face is enough for you to agree to just about anything.

As you walk side by side, you can't help but admire her gentle personality. This woman, covered in tattoos and piercings with an intimidating gaze, was the complete opposite. She spoke to you about her schedule and that she was in school for sports medicine with a glint in her eyes.

"Like physical therapy?" You ask her curiously. You watched the way her face lit up at your interest, and she beamed down to you.

"Yeah, exactly that. If all else fails, I'll just be a personal trainer," she lets out a small chuckle, and you take the second she holds the door open for you to admire her toned body.

"How do I sign up? I need a good workout partner," you say with a flirtatious tone, brushing against her as you walk inside. You relish the blush on her cheeks and the small smirk on her lips as the smell of fresh coffee hits you.

"Didn't get a good enough workout last week?" Natasha replies.

"Oh, I had a great workout... but if I had a personal trainer, I'm sure I could get a good workout in at least a few times a week. Isn't that recommended?" You look up to her, seeing her neck redden and her eyes darken.

"I would definitely recommend that," Natasha mumbles as the two of you walk up to the counter.

As Natasha orders, you can't help but notice the change in her posture and attitude. Suddenly, she was standing straight, an impassive and series look on her face. Her tone was low as she talked to the woman at the counter. Natasha turns to you and nods for you to order. You do, and as she hands the woman her card, you smile up at her.

"Thank you for getting this for me," you say gratefully, watching her melt under your gaze. The smile was back, and her eyes came to life again. It seemed she had a soft spot for you.

"Of course, it's my treat," she says and walks you to a small table in the corner.

From there, you spend the entire rest of the evening actually talking and getting to know Natasha. As you already knew, she works out religiously, and you told her how lucky you felt that she had skipped her workout today just to sit down with you. She got her first tattoo at 18 and loved it, so she just never stopped getting them. The first piercing she got was on her eyebrow, and the same there, she just kept going.

It felt as if you were sitting in front of a whole new person than the one you met just weeks ago. The one who pile drived you into the mattress at a party and left you weak in the legs and sore the next day. Natasha was kind and sweet, funny, and surprisingly shy. Any time you made an attempt to flirt or give an innuendo, she would chuckle shyly and blush the slightest.

There were a few times you even had to squeeze your thighs as you thought back to that night. Any time her tongue would wet her lower lip or her eyes would travel to your neck. She loved your neck, you noticed. Every time you had hooked up her lips would go straight for the skin there, nipping at the few small freckles that adorned the area.

"That's a long time to be friends with someone," Natasha states as you finish telling her about yours and Kates relationship. Best friends since the fourth grade, completely inseparable.

"It's nice to have someone so close, who knows me so well. Especially since I'm an only child," you reply and watch her brow lift.

"Oh really? I have a sister, Yelena. She bugs the hell out of me, but I love her to death. She goes to the college just a couple of hours from here. Actually," Natasha looks at her phone, checking the time. "I'm supposed to meet her soon... she came home for the weekend."

You nod slowly and look around, realizing everyone had left and the two baristas were cleaning up. As the two of you stand, Natasha suddenly towering over at you, you feel a little disappointment in your chest. You were having more fun with her than you thought, and you found yourself not wanting to part.

"Hey, Kate and I are going to this bar tomorrow night. A few of our friends are getting together. Joes?" You say to her, smiling to yourself as she once again holds the door open for you.

"Yeah, I've been there a few times before," Natasha says with a grin, standing outside the coffee shop with you.

"If you want, maybe you and Yelena can meet us? You don't have to, of course, but..." You trail off.

"I will definitely be there. Text me a time?" She asks, and you nod happily. Natasha leans down, and you think for a second she's going to kiss you, but her lips land on the soft skin of your cheek. You put your hand on her arm as she does, feeling the tattooed skin burn underneath your touch.

****

Joes Bar is crowded, but that's to be expected on a Saturday night near a college campus. A local alternative band plays loudly on the small stage on one side of the room, and you find yourself on the opposite side sitting at the bar. Kate is nearby talking to friends and a few strangers, but you only had one person in mind.

You glance at your phone again, seeing no notifications. With a sigh, you finish your second drink, ordering a third as you contemplated the possibility she wasn't going to show up. This is why you didn't do this type of thing. You don't hook up with hot strangers. You don't get coffee with gorgeous, sweet women. You stayed to yourself, guarded your heart, and let yourself be safe from any type of rejection or heartbreak.

But God Natasha was worth breaking your rules.

You found your way back to reality as the bartender handed you a drink and said thank you before grabbing it and removing yourself from the bar stool. As you turn, you bump into someone, almost spilling your drink on them.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry!" You apologize, shaking the liquor off your hand as you had spilled a little on yourself.

"It's okay, I was just trying to squeeze in next to you," the woman says, and in your tipsy state, you raise an eyebrow. She seemed about your age, dirty blonde hair, and a familiar grin on her lips. You definitely hadn't seen her in here before.

"I was just getting up, actually. You can have my seat. Is that an accent I hear?" You ask curiously, moving out of the way so she could take your place.

"Yeah, I still have a bit of an accent, I was born in Russia. Lived there for a while," she says and nods. She then orders two drinks before turning back to you.

"Wow, you're a long way from there. You go to school here?" You ask her and sip your drink, feeling Kate stand behind you.

"No, but my sister does, though," the blonde smiles and grabs the two bottles of beer from the bartender. She looks at you and extends her arm towards Kate to hand her a bottle. You give her a confused look.

It's only then you realize, as an inked hand reaches over you to take the beer, that it's not Kate standing there, but Natasha. You turn instantly and look up, a habit your neck was quickly getting used to doing.

"Well, well, look who showed up," you say and take your bottom lip between your teeth. Natasha smiles at your words, noticing the way you take in her appearance.

If it was possible, Natasha looked hotter than ever. She wore a black t shirt underneath a leather jacket. Her flaming hair was behind her in a braid with a few loose strands framing her face.

"I see you've met my sister, Yelena," Natasha chuckles and nods in the direction of the blonde woman.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Natty here hasn't been able to shut up abou-" Yelena is cut off by Natasha flicking the bottle cap at her face, a stern expression on the older woman's face.

You smile at the siblings' banter, watching Yelena laugh and shrug innocently. Whether it be the alcohol flowing in your bloodstream or the way Natasha looked at you, you slide your hand into hers. She tenses at first, not used to the public display of affection from you, but quickly relaxes as you intertwine your fingers with hers.

"Come on, come meet everyone," you say and tug on her hand in the direction of Kate.

You find them huddled around a pool table, watching as Kate lines up the pool tip to the cue ball with one eye closed. Carol stands leaning against her own stick, shaking her head and putting out the cigarette she smokes into the ashtray on the edge of the table.

"Anyday, Bishop..." Carol groans, earning a laugh from the group.

"Seriously, how long are you going to take?" Peter chimes in.

Kate ignores them and continues to stare intensely at the 8 ball. Her arm begins to pull back to take the shot, but as Yelena comes into focus on the opposite side of the table, Kate is finally distracted by the beautiful blonde. The cue ball misses her target completely, rolling across the table and sinking into the pocket.

"Scratch!" Carol cheers and high fives Monica. Kate looked up at Yelena, her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out. Carol then steps up to the table and sinks the 8 ball, ending the game with a dramatic bow.

You smile at the group, raising an eyebrow at the silent state of your best friend. "Guys, this is Natasha and her sister Yelena," you say, receiving waves and friendly greetings from everyone. You introduce them to the Romanoffs a little more before they rack up for another game.

"You any good?" Carol nods to Natasha, who gives a humble shrug.

"I'm decent," she replies with a smirk on her face as she brings the bottle to her lips. Carol hands the pool stick over before going to get drinks for the group.

"Hope you're good, Romanoff. We still haven't beat Y/N," Peter says begrudgingly. You only hum in response as Kate hands you her stick, positioning yourself across the table.

"Is that so?" Natasha watches with playful eyes as you skillfully break, the balls rolling in different directions along the table and a few of them sinking into the pockets.

When you lean up, you smile and reach your hand up to pat her cheek. "Good thing you didn't bet anything," you chuckle.

After a few back and forth turns, Carol returns with shots, to which you all cheer and take at the same time. The alcohol was definitely settling its way into your system now, and you were hot to the touch each time Natasha had to lean down to take her shot. Between the focused look on her face and the way the pool stick slid between her fingers, it was enough for you to want her right there.

You step forward next to her, looking at the direction of the shot she was trying to take. "That's a tough one, baby," you say to her, the term of endearment catching Natasha off guard.

Her body visibly tenses as she looks to you with a visceral reaction and swallows hard. You feign an innocent smile, taking a mental note to call her that again just to see her reaction. Natasha misses the shot and curses under her breath.

"That's not fair," she says and shakes her head as she stands tall. The red head removes her jacket, finding that the room was getting hotter.

You shrug and easily pocket two more balls on your turn. When you look to Kate to make a comment about the shot, you realize she's strayed from the group, chatting up Yelena. With your friends being in their own worlds at the moment, you decide to have a little fun with Natasha.

"You're not so bad, you know. The others have a hard time keeping up with me," you smile as she leans down, and your hand rests on her back, rubbing over her shirt.

"Y/n," Natasha mumbles, the blush on her cheeks evident she enjoyed your touch.

"Yes, Nat?" You pur, watching the muscles flex understand the fabric. Knowing you had this type of effect on her gave you a sense of power that only made you hungry for more. Your hand slithers underneath the bottom of her shirt, nails scratching at her back. She misses. You smile.

"You're a cheater, you know that?" Natasha says in a playful tone, her body naturally leaning towards you.

Your hands rest on her stomach, "I don't know what you're talking about." You lean up and plant a soft kiss on her lips, smirking as she leans down and melts against your mouth. "I'm just having fun," you whisper.

At that, you step away from her, crossing over to the opposite side of the table. You lean down more than you need to, and you don't miss the way Natashas eyes dart back and forth from your breasts to your neck. She finishes another bottle, and you can tell you've stressed her out by the way her hand grips the glass.

You continue to do the same thing for the remainder of the game, teasing her with every shot she took and making sure to bend in front of her any chance you could. It came down to the 8 ball, and you had to admit, you were dragging the game on longer than you needed to.

"Last one," you sigh and put your hand on the back of her neck as she leans down. Your fingers squeeze gently as she clears her throat, trying to ignore the shivers that run down her spine every time you touch her. You lean down with her, your lips brushing against her ear. "Good luck, baby," you whisper and kiss her cheek.

Her neck gets red at your words, and her grip on the stick only tightens. You think it'll snap in half with how hard she holds it. Natasha quickly shoots and misses, causing you to raise an eyebrow with just how quick she took the shot. Instead of stepping back, she continues to stand pressed against the table. "All yours," she mumbles and holds her hand out to the table, shifting uncomfortably as she stands.

You line up the shot and sink the black ball easily, looking up at her with a wide smile. She only gives you a small smile back with a nod. "Aren't you going to give me a victory kiss?" You ask as you step back to her.

Natasha hesitates for a moment but finally turns to face you. Your hands move up to wrap around her neck, your body pressing against her front as she leans in. Before your lips can touch your eyes, widen the slightest. You now realize the reason for the sudden uncomfortable physical shift she had taken when you felt her bulge pressing hard against you.

"Oh... was I teasing you too much?" You ask with a smirk on your lips. She rolls her eyes and moves to pull away, but you don't let her. "What was it?" You ask her.

"What was what?" She replies, her hands moving to your waist. You press your body further into her and relish the hiss that leaves her mouth.

You search her eyes, thinking to the moment her demeanor had changed. Suddenly, there was that power-hungry feeling again when you realized the reasoning. The fact that you could get her hot and bothered by a simple word leaving your lips, by your voice alone, and the thought of you driving someone like her mad. Natasha was weak in the knees for you, and she struggled internally with the way you made her feel. She wasn't used to it.

"Why don't you let me help you take care of your little problem... baby, " you whisper to her, feeling her shoulders tense above you. "Come on." You slide back and take her hand in yours, leading her away from the pool table and towards the bathroom.

As soon as both of you are inside and you lock the door, the two of you are on top of each other just like the first night you met her. Natasha kisses you feverishly, like she'd never been kissed before, with your back hard against the door. You welcomed her tongue into your mouth, moaning as the two halves wrap around your own.

With one hand, you hold onto the front of her shirt, gripping tightly, with the other you slide it in between your bodies, letting yourself grope the hard bulge in her jeans. Natasha lets a hint of a whimper leave her lips, one you hadn't heard since the first time with her, and you smirk into the kiss.

"What's the matter, baby? Do you need some help?" You ask innocently, lips ghosting hers. She breathes heavily and nods as your hands move to undo her belt.

"Sweetheart... please," she says, and you decide in that moment that you need her to say that again. Just the idea that this strong, formidable woman could so easily melt in your presence made you thrilled.

Her hands rest on either side above your head, pressed flat against the door as you slide her pants down. You can see the precum dampening a spot on her underwear, and you feel yourself get wet at the sight of it. She needed you, bad.

"Please, what?" You ask, your hand moves to grab her through her boxers, and you stroke her length through the thin fabric.

"Fu-fuck," she barely breathes out, eyes searching yours. Natasha hadn't begged a day in her life, but she would happily beg for you. She was at the point right now that she was willing to get down on her knees and beg for you. You made her desperate.

"Please touch me, please. You feel how hard I am for you? Just -" You squeezing a little harder makes her gasp before continuing. "I need you to touch me. Please, sweetheart... please, " she begs. You smile at her words, enjoying the way her body melts at your touch and the way she begs for you.

At her words you slide down her boxers, and her cock twitches at the feeling of finally being released. She lets out a sigh of relief as your delicate fingers wrap around her. "Is this what you wanted?" You hum, beginning to move your hand up and down. Natasha nods, chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly at your movements.

When you stop, she looks at you with a disoriented look, eyebrows lifting as she watches you drop to your knees. You take her cock in your hand, letting your other rest on her thick, toned thigh. From here you can see her happy trail peaking from underneath her shirt, making your panties wetter. The way she looks down at you with a breathless expression and parted lips makes you want to live your life on your knees for her. Your lips kiss along the side of her length, teasing slowly with your tongue licking up it. Natasha groans with pleasure at the feeling and her hips instinctively buck towards you.

You give in, not wanting to tease her anymore tonight, and take her cock into your mouth. The moan that leaves her mouth is outright sinful, and her fist hits the door with a thud as you begin to bob your head. Your cheeks hollow out when you begin moving faster, taking as much of her as you could. When the tip hits the back of your throat your eyes sting, tears threatening to leave your ducts. Natasha pants heavily above you, savoring the moment of you on your knees for her, sucking her off.

"Look at you, such a pretty girl with my cock in your mouth- fuck," Natasha speaks low to you, her eyes dark as she watches her cock disappear against your lips. Your fingers on her thigh dig in, your nails digging into her skin to leave crescent shaped marks, at her words. "All night you've been teasing me... this is the only way to shut you up, isn't it?" She says and you moan against her, the vibrations sending her close to the edge.

Her breathing gets heavier and you can tell she's about to cum, but before she can you quickly remove your mouth, your saliva coating her as you release with a pop. You stand, not ignoring the frustrated look on her face.

"Baby, I think you're confused," you say, your hands moving to the top of your dress. "You're not in charge right now," You let out a small laugh and pull down on the fabric, letting your breasts spill out. Natashas face reddens in response, and she immediately moves to kiss your chest. You can feel the marks she leaves as her lips trail across your breasts, her skillful tongue pleasuring your sensitive nipples.

Natashas' large hands move to the bottom of your dress as her kisses begin to litter up your neck. You let her move the material above and over your hips, but stop her as she reaches your panties. "I wanna hear you," you mumble out. She lets out a huff and pulls away from your neck.

"Y/n... please." Natasha says. You only continue to look at her with innocent eyes. The fact that she would beg for you - is begging for you, made you feel instant gratification.

"Please, pretty girl? Please let me make you feel good. I want to fuck you, want to make you feel good so bad..." She begs, and you let her slide your panties down your legs. Natasha slides her tip between your closed thighs, her cock now being coated from the wetness that spread between your legs.

She slips in between your folds, waiting for your words. Her fingers dig into your hips. "You drive me so fucking insane," Natasha whispers as her head ducks to your neck again. "I could cum from just looking at you. Just hearing you say my name. You know how much control you have over me?" Her hips continue rocking against you, your thighs squeezing her hard cock. She begins to pant again, her neck red and hot to the touch as you wrap your arms around it, interlocking your fingers behind her head.

"Please," Natasha whimpers, and the sound is enough to make you moan. You needed to feel her inside you immediately, hear more of those moans leave her lips.

"Show me how bad you want me, how insane I make you feel," you finally say and lean forward to bite her lower lip. She wastes no time lifting you up, helping you wrap your legs around her hips. Your back presses against the door again and with one hand she guides her cock inside of your warm velvet walls, easily ,with how wet you were for her.

Natasha begins to thrust up into you, a feeling you had become accustomed to these past few weeks, although you weren't sure you'd ever get used to her size. She groans against your chest, nipping at the skin. The small bathroom fills with the sounds of her pounding into you, both of you moaning practically in sync with every thrust.

"So good, pretty girl, feel so good wrapped around my cock. I love fucking this pretty pussy," she breathes heavy against your skin as she speaks. You hold on tightly to her, only breathless moans escape your lips in response.

Suddenly, from the outside, someone bangs on the door, Natasha doesn't halt her descent on you. "Can you hurry the fuck up in there?" A stranger yells from the other side. Your eyes widen, a little bit of adrenaline rushing into your chest as she continues fucking into you.

Natasha smiles, now at your flustered state. "Occupied," is all she replies before her thrust picks up the pace. "You better keep quiet, sweetheart. You don't want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, letting me fuck you in the bathroom."

You squeeze your eyes closed as she fucks herself into you, trying your best to keep quiet. Each thrust was now hitting that special spot inside of you and drawing you closer to an orgasm. The feeling of her muscles flexing around you only intensified that feeling.

"Fuck I-I can't I'm-" Natasha stutters out as she groans into your neck, feeling your hot cunt tighten around her cock.

"Me too, Nat," you moan along with her, and your legs squeeze around her waist. "Let go, baby... wanna feel you fill me up." You watch her face twist in pleasure at your words, and the fact that it was enough to make her cum only added to your ego in the moment. Natasha grunts against your skin as she does just what you say, filling you up completely.

The sensation alone is enough to make you follow right behind her, the burn in your lower stomach blazing as you scream out her name.

"That's it, sweetheart, that's it... such a good girl for me," she coos as you fall apart in her arms, kissing your face as you breathe heavily. Your head falls against her shoulder, face panting in the crook of her neck as she holds you tightly, letting you come down off your high.

After a few moments she pulls out slowly, and you can feel the mixture of both your arousal dripping down your thighs. Natasha carries you to the sink, letting you rest on the hard surface while she pulls her pants back up and you fix the top of your dress.

"Hi," she says with a smile. You giggle, remembering she said the same thing afterward on the first night at her party.

"Hi," is all you reply, grabbing her shirt in your hand and pulling her closer to kiss you again.

****

"They have eight legs and eight eyes. How are they not scary?" Peter drunkenly speaks to Monica, who sits next to him with an amused look.

After your time in the bathroom with Natasha, the two of you had rejoined the group, and over the course of two hours, you had become increasingly wasted with the rest of your friends. As Yelena joined in on the topic of spiders, you feel Natasha rest her head back against your front.

She sat slouched back in one of the chairs that scattered near the table while you stood behind her, hands stroking her neck and massaging her shoulders. You can't help but smile down at her.

"You're so cute," you giggle and watch her brow raise. Your finger traces the dark lines on her neck.

"Anything but cute," Natasha groans, with a playful smirk on her face. "Why do you say that?"

"You're different than you look, you know? Why are you so nervous around me?" Your words slur, and she chuckles at your drunken state with a shrug, looking at the beer bottle she held in her hand.

"Must be the alcohol?" She says. You shake your head and poke her nose.

"You were drinking when I first met you, and you weren't like this," you point out and watch her swallow. You decide to move in front of her, settling yourself between her muscled thighs. As you stand in front of her, she sits up straighter, the two of you now practically the same height.

You take her hand in yours, playing with her fingers. She smiles a little as she looks at your intertwined hands.

"Maybe I was drinking that night to get enough courage to talk to you... and maybe I- maybe I'm drinking tonight to get enough courage to say I want more with you. More than... the hookups," she says and finally looks back up at you. Your heart races in your chest at her words, panic written on your face as you freeze in front of her.

That was exactly what you wanted. More of her, more of this beautiful person who was even more beautiful inside. To get to know what makes her really tick, what makes her happy, how her day was, how she likes her coffee. She wanted more, too, so why were you not speaking out loud?

"What?" Is all that comes out of your mouth.

Natashas face falls completely, misinterpreting your flustered state for a sign of rejection. She had hoped this wouldn't happen. Part of her wondered if this had just been a hook up, but the other part of her desperately hoped it wasn't.

Before the words could leave your parted lips, Kate calls over to you, taking the attention of both you and Natasha.

"Y/N, you ready to go? You can stay if you want, I'm gonna take Pete home, though," she nods to the direction of where he sat drunk rambling to Yelena.

"No, not -"

"Actually, Yelena and I have a lot to do tomorrow. We should head out too," Natasha interrupts you and stands, her hand moving to your lower back as you stare up at her with a pout.

"Are you sure?" You ask her, your hand reaching out to her side. She tenses under your grasp.

"Yeah, I'll text you later," She smiles at you, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time.

You nod anyways and smile back, leaning up to kiss her lips softly. "Thank you for tonight.. Hopefully, we can do it again soon?"

And while you were talking about hanging out with her, Natasha assumes you were talking about her fucking you.

"Yeah, soon," she lets out a breath and grabs her jacket, not taking a second look back at you as her and Yelena exit the bar.

***

A smile fills your face as your head hits the pillow, the soft comforter pulled over you as you lie on your warm bed and mull over tonights events. You wondered why Natasha had left in such a hurry before you could say anything, but you decided not to think too hard on it. She probably did have to go. It was early in the morning by the time you left, and besides, you would hear from her later.

Every morning, she texted you a quick and sweet text, telling you to have a good day.

Your chest swelled at the thought of it, how sweet it was that such a small, simple thing could brighten your entire day. What you assumed would happen tomorrow is that the two of you would talk about wanting more and how desperately you agreed with her about it.

But when the late morning came and the sunshine streamed through the windows, no text came with it.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #gp!Natasha x reader #marvel #marvel one shot #part 2

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xxoxobree · 10 months

Text

I Luv Your Girl

Miles G. x Black Fem Reader.

Summary: Miles Being Mr.Stealyourgirl.

WARNINGS: None 😘

Miles walked into school, his head bobbing to the music that flooded his ears through his headphones. He made his way through the busy halls of Visions toward his locker. He got the occasional "hey" from friends that passed by, and he dapped some of them up.

Finally, he reached his locker, letting out a sigh. He took off his headphones and opened the locker. One by one, he stuffed the books he didn't need into the cramped space, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead.

Just as he was engaged in his task, a familiar voice interrupted him.

"Yo, waddup?" Miles turned to his left and saw Ganke walking toward him, leaning nonchalantly on the nearby lockers. A smile spread across Miles' face as he greeted his friend and they went through their intricate handshake.

“Wassup with you bro?”

Laughter erupted from nearby, catching Miles' attention. His eyes followed the sound, and there you were.

Miles felt a weird sensation in his chest as he continued to gaze at you from across the hallway. A feeling he couldn't quite put into words. But before he could fully grasp it, his attention was diverted by the sight of your stupid boyfriend approaching.

His heart sank as he watched your boyfriend plant a peck on your cheek. Miles rolled his eyes,in frustration, as he forcefully slammed his books into his locker, creating a semi-loud band.

"Woah, easy there, Miles," Ganke said, noticing the sudden change in his demeanor. Ganke's eyes flickered towards you, a mischievous smirk forming on his face as he realized the source of Miles' agitation. It was no secret that Miles had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. Living just a few doors down, you two had always had a friendly but distant relationship, and that fact got on every one Miles' nerves.

"You're mad about Y/n?” Ganke teased, a smirk on his face. "Why don't you just tell her you like her?"

Miles let out a nervous laugh, his heart pounding in his chest. "If you can see, Ganke, she's always with that bozo," Miles replied, frustration lacing his voice, as he pointed towards your boyfriend.

As Miles closed his locker, he glanced back at you and couldn't help but smile and wave. His face lit up when you returned the wave, causing his heart to race even faster.

Your boyfriend noticed the exchange and spun around, giving Miles a mean mug. Unfazed and a little amused by your boyfriend's insecurity, Miles rolled his eyes and headed towards his first period.

Sitting in his first period English class, Miles plugged in his headphones and lost himself in the music. As he mindlessly doodled away in his sketchbook, he finally finished a drawing he had been meaning to complete for a while.

Suddenly there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to see a smiling you. Quickly he took off his headphones before speaking.

“Yeah?” He spoke gently.

“Hey Miles, I really like your bracelet.”

Miles looked down at his wrist, the silver paperclip bracelet shining. He quickly unlatched it.

“Here ma, since you like it so much,” he said, handing it to you.

“Miles, no I can’t,” you said, your face filled with surprise.

“Yes, you can,” he said, grabbing your hand and fastening the bracelet to your wrist.

“There, it looks way better on you, pretty girl,” he said, earning a giggle from you that made his heart swell.

“Thank you, Miles,” you cooed, looking into his eyes.

He nodded before returning back to his drawing.

Miles would sneak glances at you throughout the whole class, watching as you would play, spinning the bracelet around your wrist - his bracelet. He was already distracted, not paying attention to a single thing the teacher was saying, but even more so now with his mind thinking a thousand thoughts of you and him, and what could be.

As classes ended, he walked through the halls, just happening to see you proudly showing off the bracelet to your friends. He laughed at your enthusiasm, secretly thrilled that you appreciated his gift. Little did Miles know his little gift would get him closer to what he wanted - you.

Again, he was lost in his thoughts about you, and how he loved your signature pink hair that you would wear in puffs, or the way you would cutely throw your head forward when you laughed. Miles knew he had to find a way to get closer to you.

But then he remembered your stupid boyfriend, who didn't treat you right, and he felt the sting of jealousy rise up in him. In Miles' mind, he didn't deserve you. He believed that you could do better, that you deserved someone better, like him.

Miles couldn't resist the temptation and found himself developing feelings for someone else's girlfriend. He started seeking you out in any classes you had together. He would strategically take the seat next to you instead of his usual spot, hoping to strike up conversations that went beyond the surface to know you better.

Surprisingly, you were just as interested in him. You started sitting with him at lunch, where the two of you would joke and laugh the entire period. Miles found you just as interesting and sweet as he had imagined, and he felt himself falling deeper and deeper for you with each passing day.

As the connection grew, Miles began to question his own actions. He knew it was wrong to pursue someone who was already taken, and guilt weighed on his conscience but not too much.

As your bond grew stronger, the closeness didn't go unnoticed by everyone and soon whispers filled the school.

You boyfriend sat just a few tables away, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He watched you and Miles, his food barely touched, as you two talked, laughed and exchanged subtle touches. The glimmering bracelet on your wrist caught his attention, and it took him a moment to connect the dots – it was Miles' bracelet.

That realization was the final blow for him. The weight of how close your were crashed on him like a ton of bricks. He stood up, his face flushed with a mix of fury and heartbreak, and made his way towards your table. His presence alone silenced both you and Miles.

"Hey, you two. What are we talking about?" he asked, a forced smile on his face as he attempted to kiss you only for you to dodge it.

Miles looked away, biting his lip to stop a wave of laughter that threatened to escape. He couldn't help but be amused by the scene unfolding before him.

"What do you want?" you whispered to your boyfriend, annoyance evident in your voice.

"Come on babe, let's go to another table," he suggested, attempting to coax you away from your current spot.

"No, I'm sitting with my friend," you replied firmly.

"Come on, y/n, I'm not doing this with you.”

"I'm not doing this with you either," you shot back, standing your ground. "Like I said, I'm sitting with my friend. So you can leave."

"Whatever," he mumbled, frustration etched across his face as he got up and returned to his own table.

"Fuck, wrong with him?" you asked, turning to Miles, who had been silently observing the encounter. Your question sending him over the edge making him fold over with laughter.

"You're his girl, ma, maybe you should go sit with him,".

You shook your head. "Nah, I'm staying,"

Miles furrowed his brows, studying you carefully. "You sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

Your gaze met his. "Yes, I'm sure, Miles. Fuck that Nigga.”

Miles but his lip chuckling at you. You were his now.

"Well, if it's fuck him,' kiss me," he whispered, a challenge dancing off his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a small smile adorned your face. Deep down, you knew you wanted it just as much as he did.

"Miles, what?" You replied, curiosity tinged with anticipation.

"You heard me, mami," he said, leaning in closer. "Kiss me right now. In front of everyone. Show him it's 'fuck him.'"

Your eyes flickered between his gaze and his inviting lips. You couldn't resist and started to lean in, your lips crashing together.

The sound of gasps and whispers filled the air as the onlookers turned their attention towards the unexpected kiss. You didn't care; you were too wrapped up in the moment, too wrapped up in Miles.

As you pulled away, laughter bubbled up from within both you and Miles. Your eyes scanned the crowd, and there, you two spotted your now ex-boyfriend, fuming with rage.

Miles turned to your boyfriend mischievous yet sympathetic smile on his face. "Sorry, bro, but I love your girl.”

#neteyamsmunch #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #e42 miles x you #miles morales x reader #e42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #prowler miles #miles g morales #e42 miles x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales x you #miles morales fluff #miles morales fic #miles morales x black!reader #miles g morales x reader #miles g #miles g morales fic

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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months

Text

Professor Cameron - Rafe Cameron One Shot +18

Minor DNI

Based off a prompt by @geniousbh :

Rafe x female reader (No use of Y/N)

Warnings: smut & language

Fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected p in v, pet names, squirting, overstimulation, breeding kink, praise kink, ownership kink, creampie, cum play, older Rafe

Lightly edited

3.1K

Taglist ♡ @imyourdaninow

Enjoy! 💕✨

"I'm so close to a C," you grumble, eyes rolling as you hold yet another Econ test between your fingers; D+ scrolled in blood-red ink. "Another fuckin' D."

"A D+, actually," your friend teases, tapping the top.

"Well, would you look at that?" You sass, readjusting yourself from your slumped state, eyes drifting ahead, matching Professor Cameron's. He represses a smile, running his palm against his lips.

"Do they do extra credit in college?" You whine, leaning into your friend, resting your head on her shoulder as you continue to sulk.

"Professor C? No fuckin' way; the guy's a hard ass."

"I don't think that's true," You look his way again, just missing his eyes. "He looks sweet," you whisper.

"He's hot as fuck," she adds, making your cheeks flush pink. "Is he married? I don't see a ring." She studies him a little further, trying to get a better look.

"Why does it matter?" You ask, narrowing your gaze on him.

"Meh. It doesn't, but it makes it easier. You said you wanted extra credit, sunshine." She wiggles her eyebrows, elbowing you playfully.

"Just tell me what you're getting at," you huff. "Class is almost over, and I need to figure this shit out."

"Jesus Christ, babe. You want extra credit. He's not married. And he already looks at you like he wants to devour you."

"Eat me?"

"If that's what you're into, or you could suck him off, I suppose," she giggles as you let out a little gasp. "Ugh... Stop clutching your pearls. If he was lookin' at me like that, he'd be blowin' my back out every day of the week."

"So, you really think he likes me?" Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you turn in his direction. He's not looking at me...

"Just give it a second," your friend breathes.

Professor Cameron thumbs through the remaining stack of tests, handing another small pile to his teacher's assistant before snagging his school bag and coffee cup. Your stomach floods with butterflies as he matches your gaze, walking toward the lecture hall steps.

"Just fucking do it," she groans. "Even if you don't get the extra credit, at least you'll get somethin' out of it."

"Something?"

"Dick... Seriously. What the fuck, girl?"

"Stop bein' mean," you whine. 'What if he doesn't want me?"

"Sure," she laughs.

********

You walk down the hallway, heading toward the faculty offices. Wandering slowly as you skim the name plaques, searching for his.

Professor Rafe Cameron

Rafe? You bite back a nervous smile. I've never met a "Rafe" before. You lift your fist, giving the door a soft knock.

"Come in," he calls from behind it. You twist the handle; Rafe's blue eye expands slightly, along with his smile. It quickly fades. Maybe he doesn't want me here. Maybe I need to go.

"I'm sorry. I... Well, I didn't make an appointment," you babble, twirling your hair nervously.

"No - No. It's alright," he assures, the corners of his lips curling as he says the words. "Take a seat. Please." He gestures to the leather chair across from his large desk. You walk over taking a seat, smoothing your little skirt before matching his eyes. He addresses you by Miss, surprising you when he uses your last name, falling from his lips with ease. You're taken aback, frazzled at the moment that he knows you by name, out of a lecture hall full of students.

I'm clearly not an exceptional student. There are students with perfect scores in my class. Maybe he's just thoughtful. Maybe he remembers everyone's names.

"Are you alright?" He asks as he leans back in his chair slightly, adjusting in his seat.

"Umm... Just a little nervous," you let out a flighty laugh as he gives you his full attention.

"I don't bite," he smiles, crossing his arm across his broad chest. You watch as his linen shirt stretches across his strong arms. You study him a little more, taking in his features. You've never gotten to see him this close: perfectly quaffed locks, just the right amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw. He's loosened his tie since you saw him last, Rafe's top button drawn open as well, a peek of a gold chain matching his ring-adorned fingers. He guides your attention back to his eyes, using your first name this time, making your heart race.

"So, is there anything I can help you with?" He asks you again with a softer tone, just trying to pull any sort of answer out of you.

"Sorry... Umm. I'm not doing very well in your class. I just - I'm not used to doing so poorly." His eyes soften on yours as you continue to spin your sob story. "I seem to do well on my papers, but, I do really bad on my tests."

His lips tug to the side, brows knitting tight. "Well, that's because I grade your papers," he hums as he turns his swivel chair toward his computer, pulling up the gradebook. "My T.A. is on a little bit of a power trip this semester. And it does not help that you're stunning. Think someone's a little jealous," he chuckles. You feel heat spread across your cheeks as you take in his compliment. "We'll see if we can work something out."

Professor Cameron matches your smile, lingering a little while before returning to his screen. "Alright..." He takes a deep breath, squinting slightly before taking out some black glasses. "Let's see what we're workin' with." He scans the numbers, writing down a few things on a little Post-It note. "So it looks like lesson 5, 6, and 8 tests were all D's." You nod your head in acknowledgment. "Well, you can retake these if you'd like. And, I can regrade them for you; skip the middleman."

"Really?" You bubble.

"'Course," he breathes. "There's no reason those tests should be that low given what you know. I'm very impressed with your written work."

"Yeah?" You expel a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... I would bet that you could finish the course with at least a B."

"Wow, Professor Cameron. Thank you so much. At least... So, I could maybe get an A?" You smile, sweetening your tone, just playing around, doing your best to lighten the mood.

"Maybe," he chuckles, relaxing back in his chair. "I don't see why not. And we can always talk about extra credit if you'd like."

"Extra credit? That would be really nice, Professor Cameron." Your eyes fall to his thigh; two thick fingers moving ever so slightly, tracing the sleek black material, making your mind wander as you think about what he could do with his hands, if he was rough or gentle. He looks like he'd be rough.

"Yeah, extra credit," he hums; you follow his gaze, eyes lost in your cleavage, hidden slightly by your oversized jean jacket.

"What can I do for you, Professor Cameron," the words leave your lips before you can think them through. "F-For extra credit, that is," you recover quickly your cheeks shifting from a pretty blush to a deep red hue.

He fights off a smile, rapping his ringed finger against the wood desk a few times."Whatever you're comfortable with," he breathes. Rafe raises his hand, brushing away his smile just as he did in the classroom. This time, more of a smirk.

Whatever I'm comfortable with... He wants me to? Maybe?

Grabbing your jean jacket, you pull it off your shoulders, exposing your pink top, black lace peeking out."I'll do whatever it takes to get an "A," Professor Cameron."

"You will, now?" he sighs, sinking in his seat slightly, widening his thighs, making himself a little more comfortable. "You sure about that?"

"Mhmm," you breathe as you lean in closer, giving him a better view of your breasts. He lets out a sinful laugh, loosening his tie a little more than before, his icy blue eyes darkening along with yours.

"And, you'd do anything it takes to get that "A." Huh?" He mumbles as you work the satin straps over your shoulders, letting it fall around your waist.

"Anything."

"Shit," he draws out the word, snatching his glasses off his face before rising in his seat. He's tall, far taller from this angle, towering over you as he walks around the desk, designer dress shoes shuffling along the floor.

"Are you married, Professor Cameron?"

"Nah... I'm not. I'm single. And, you can call me Rafe if you'd like," he rasps, pawing his tie the rest of the way off. "Are you single? Anyone taking care of you."

"Just me," you whisper, your innocent eyes set on his.

"Just me. Huh?" He echoes. You nod as he grips the armrests of your swivel chair, towing you closer. "These boys not cuttin' it for you, princess?" You shake your head 'no'. You can see the print of Rafe's long, thick cock; pressing against his slacks. "I'm gonna take care of you." He takes hold of your chin with a heavy hand.

"Okay, Ra-" He steals your words, claiming your lips against his. Rafe catches your moan in his mouth, answering with his own. You let out a little gasp as he lifts you to your feet, bringing you closer. The two of you work on what little clothing remains between sloppy kisses, tearing it off each other's bodies until all that's left are his black boxer briefs.

Rafe groans as his rough fingers glide down your smooth skin, tracing the small of your waist, massaging and pressing your breasts together as his eyes roll back. He lifts you effortlessly, taking you into his strong arms. You hold on tight as Rafe swipes his palm across the desk, making the items tumble to the floor. He lays you on top, lips barely losing contact, kissing you roughly.

Your hands drift down his chest, journeying lower and lower. You rake your hands back up, feeling his muscles, resting on his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath. You dig your nails into his skin, making him hiss out a breath.

You feel the chill of his rings against your hot skin as he squeezes your tits, shoving them together. "Jesus fuck, baby girl," he mutters, locking down on your nipple, swirling and flicking, leaving you a whimpering mess. "You look good... So fuckin' good," he groans, running two thick fingers between your thighs, skimming your slit. "How are you so wet?" He growls.

You take in his scent, rich and delicious, amplified by the warmth of his bare skin. You reach for him desperately, pulling him to your lips as he rocks into you, thrusting languidly, stroking your aching pussy with his clothed cock. His gold chain sways, with each roll of his hips brushing against your cleavage.

"Please," you whimper, desperate for more.

"Want me to eat your pussy, angel? Hmm? Bend you over my desk?"

"Yes, Rafe. Fuck," you whimper.

He lowers himself between your legs, looping his arms under your thighs, pulling you toward his face. Rafe spreads your legs, kissing you deeply, marking you in a way that'll surely leave a bruise, teasing you as his digits slip closer. You take a grip on his sandy-blonde hair, pulling him nearer as you buck your hips, craving more friction between the two of you. Rafe breathes warmly against your clit, making you melt into the table.

"Rafe-" You beg, your words turning into a breathy cry as he plunges his tongue deeply, drawing out slowly, licking a line to your clit that has your body quaking. He sucks your bud, releasing you with a pop. Doing it again and again, leaving your thighs trembling uncontrollably. He brushes his tongue side to side on your clit, making your vision blur.

Rafe slings your legs over his broad shoulders, working deeper than before. You grip the edge of the desk; teeth clenched, muscles firing hot as you hold back your cries of pleasure. "Cum for me..." He grunts, driving his fingers into you as you nod rapidly.

"Y-Yeah," you shudder, chasing your climax as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

"Do it." Rafe curls his fingers inside of you, tension snapping as you moan his name. "Fuck... Say it again. Say my name again," he groans, looking down at you in a drunken haze as he works you through your orgasm.

"Rafe," you breathe. He slips between your legs, cleaning the mess he made with his tongue.

This - This is a man. Sure, I've been with plenty of boys, but this is divine. I can tell that he knows what he's doing: how to kiss, how to touch a woman. I need him. All of him.

"Tastes so fuckin' good," he mumbles. "Anything?" He asks again as he tugs at the elastic of his boxers.

"Anything," you mewl.

"Need to be inside you," he mutters as he pulls his boxers off his body. "You want that. Don't you?"

"Yes."

He gives you a few experimental thrusts, watching you jolt in your sensitivity every time his rock-hard cock nudges your clit. You look at the slight space between the two of you, letting out a desperate moan, yearning to be filled. Rafe's long, thick dick curved toward his stomach, glistening with precum, smudging against his tight stomach with each rut.

"Fuck me," you plead.

You let out a gasp as he stuffs his cock in your pussy; hips flush with your ass, balls deep; pushing even further. "R-Rafe..." You whimper, tears running down your cheeks as you feel the pressure in your guts.

"Goddamn..." He grunts. "You're so fuckin' tight. Shit - Pussy feels so good."

"You're so big," you whimper as you press your hand against your tummy.

"You okay? Takin' me so well..."

"Yeah. M'fine. Feels so fucking good."

"Been hopin' you'd walk in my office since the first day I saw you." He brushes your tears away with his thumbs as he kisses your lips, dick buried deep. "Who woulda thought you be such a slut for your professor. Huh?"

BANG. BANG.

"Hey, Rafe. Are you free?" His colleague yells from outside the door, causing the two of you to freeze. Rafe snares your hips, holding you in place. He draws a finger to his lips, demanding your silence.

"Wanted to see if you could look over something for me."

Rafe grinds his hips slowly, not wanting to stop, cupping your breast in his hand. He leans down, giving you a soft bite, eyes focused on yours.

"Rafe?" The male tries again, making Rafe roll his eyes in annoyance. You watch as the shadow shifts underneath the door, walking away.

"Fuck, that was close," he breathes, kissing his way up your stomach. "Come over tonight?"

"You want me to come over to your house?" You whisper as you smile against his lips.

"Need to fuck you in a bed. Want you to ride me. You want that "A." Yeah?" He asks, his voice deep and dark.

"Yes, Professor Cameron," you smile as you flutter your lashes, your angelic tone contrasting his wicked one entirely.

"You're a pretty little thing. Fuck. You're gorgeous," he praises as his swollen tip presses against your entrance, stretching you slightly, making your lips part in a soft "o." He groans as he nudges himself a little further, rocking into you nice and slow, teasing you with the first few inches and his fat cockhead.

"Rafe... Pl-" Your plea turns into a gasp as he pushes himself inside, bottoming you out completely. Your back arches off the desk, nipples grazing his chest.

Rafe thrusts at a rapid pace, skin striking skin. Knocking you deep in your core. "Such a good girl f'me," he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough thrust leaving you trembling.

You let out a moan that has him rushing to silence you, sealing your mouth with his broad palm, each muffled sound more fucked out than the last.

"You're killin' me," he mutters against your neck. "Gonna let you be real loud tonight. Alright? Gotta big fuckin' house. You can scream as loud as you want." His hand works between your thighs, brushing quickly against your clit; making you dig your nails into his shoulder blades."If I move my hand, are you gonna be a good little whore? Keep that mouth nice and quiet, f'me?"

"Yeah-"

"If you can't, I can stuff it full for you. Keep you real fuckin' quiet."

"N-No. Wanna cum... Fuck, I'm gonna-" His focus falls to the sound of your body gushing, squirting onto his cock and thighs as he continues to pound you into the wooden desk.

Your body clutches him, muscles pulsing. "That's it, baby. Fuckin' squeeze me." He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, trying his best to thrust. Rafe doesn't give you orders, simply forcing you right where he wants you. Gripping your hips, turning you a moment later, lifting your ass in the air as you take a hold of the desk. You look over your shoulder, watching as he winds up to smack your ass. Stopping himself with a smirk and a raspy laugh. "I'm gonna ruin you tonight." His voice sends chills down your spine. Rafe grips your skin tightly, bunching it up in his hand as he coaxes his dick back in.

He ruts his hips deeply, fingertips driving into the fat of your ass as his hips clap against your skin. "Rafe," you blubber, trying your best to steady yourself on whatever you can grab. You can feel his tip kiss your G-spot with each stroke, working incredibly deep.

"Almost there... Want you to cum with me," he groans.

"Let me cum. I can't-"

"You will..."

"Please-"

"M'gonna cum, baby," he grunts, hand weaving into your hair. He yanks it back, pulling your orgasm out with it, blanketing your mouth as he silences your cries. You flutter wildly around his cock as he fills you to the brim with his climax. Rafe draws out slowly, letting your releases drip from your cunt; rolling down your inner thigh. He grips his cock in his fist, collecting your shared release, swirling his tip around your entrance before stuffing it deep inside again.

"Goddamn," he mumbles. Swiveling his hips slowly, jagged breaths are heard as he continues to move, completely overstimulated but loving the feeling too much to quit. "Mmm... You're gonna ride me tonight. Bounce on me; tits in fuckin' face. This wet fuckin' pussy is mine..." He moans, already desperate for more, as he palms your soft skin.

You reach for air, doing your best to catch your breath, riding a euphoric high. "Shit... Did I get an A, Professor Cameron?" You laugh breathily.

"A" fuckin' plus, princess."

Part 2 in my masterlist 🩷

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whorekneecentral · 5 months

Text

Tis' The Season

Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: old friends reappear, flashbacks in italics, complicated relationships, expensive gifts cause it's lew lew duh, uses roscoe as an in, brocedes mention, alcohol and the consumption of, sexual tension, oral (f!receiving), degrading, the use of 'slut' in a sexual context, penetrative sex (p in v), choking, creampie, soft moments at be end.

Word Count: 2,668

Author's Note: love me some lew lew and he gives fuckboy turned lover boy so here we areeeeee

merry smutmas series

An old friend finds his way to your front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t.

A knock on the door startles you as you hung the ornament on your Christmas tree. You shout that you're coming, grabbing your wallet out of your purse, as you jog to your front door. You assumed it was your take-out delivery guy and that's not who it was when you opened the door.

The man smiles at you, bags in hand and puppy between his legs. "Hi beautiful," Lewis smiles at you, bundled up in his winter coat.

You huff, looking at him. "Hi Lewis.. what are you doing here?"

He lifts the bags, showing you. "Happy holidays, y/n. I come bearing gifts."

"Seriously?" You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, Roscoe barks and gets your attention, you crouch down to pat his side, the dog leaning into your hand before waddling his way into the house. Lewis doesn't stop him, smiling at you.

"Are you gonna let me in, love? Roscoe is already inside, it'd be rude to let me freeze out here."

You don't have the heart to let them freeze, especially since you know how Roscoe loves him so much.

You let Lewis in, the man takes his shoes off by the door and follows you down the hallway to the living room. Roscoe had already made himself comfortable, shaking off the cold, and lying down by the fireplace. Despite you and Lewis not talking for years, you had left Roscoe's dog bed by the fireplace, as it had always been, picking it up to clean and setting it back in its spot.

Lewis sets the bags on the coffee table, hanging his coat off the arm rest of your couch. "I didn't know if you still live here."

"Well now that you do, I'll have to move, won't I?"

He chuckles, smiling to himself - nice to see your sense of humour has remained.

"Go on, open 'em." He nods towards the gifts on the table. You were adjusting an ornament on the tree, "I don't want it, Lewis."

"Oh hush, don't be annoying, y/n. Just open it."

You rolled your eyes, sitting across from him on the couch and picking up the first bag, the shape was a give away. Carefully, you pulled the bottle of wine out of the bag, some expensive French wine that you two had once upon a time when you took a trip to France. You read the label, setting it down on the table gently.

"Expensive," you eye him and he smiles. "Open the other one." He says quietly, watching as you tear the wrapping paper.

You freeze, the orange box staring back at you, the signature black and white ribbon around the box; Hermes Paris written across the top.

"Lewis.." You look at the man and he nods, waiting for you to go on. You carefully undo the ribbon, taking the lid off of the box. There's clearly a bag in the box, wrapped in a dust bag.

You feel underdressed and dirty, as if you should have showered before opening such a gift. You take the purse out of the dust bag, a Birkin in Bougainvillea - the same shade you had seen so many years ago.

His arm rested over your shoulders, the two of you cuddled on the couch as Lewis flipped through the tv channels. Formula One had wrapped up for the 2008 season and your dearest friend Lewis was now a Formula One world champion.

You, on the other hand, were still in med school.

Lewis had come home for the holidays, a yearly tradition of trashy Christmas movies and Chinese take out had commenced, Lewis picking out something for you two to watch as you flipped through the magazine.

"This one," you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder. "I want this one." You show him the bright pink Birkin bag - in the shade Bougainvillea. It's unrealistically, shockingly pink but it was the newest colour in the collection and you wanted it.

"I'm gonna get this for myself when I finish med school and I'm a rich surgeon."

Lewis smiles, "I'll get it for you, love. No need to wait so long, consider it your med school graduation gift." He kisses your head.

They don't make this colour anymore, you're sure it must have cost Lewis a fortune. "How did you even.. they don't make this colour anymore." You examined the bag, setting it back into the dust bag carefully.

"I know people, y/n."

You hum, "it's too much."

"It's your gift, y/n. I promised you, didn't I?"

You smiled, nodding as you carefully set the bag back into the box. "Thank you Lew, really."

The man smiles, it's been years since he's heard you call him Lewis. You two had a falling out a while back, right after his first championship win with Mercedes - you didn't like the way he treated you, pushed you off to the side as if you hadn't been there for him through it all. Lewis was and still is career driven, it has and will always take first priority to him but it ruined your friendship and it had ruined the same special bond he had with Nico.

In this moment, you let all that go.

The doorbell rings, intruding on your thoughts. "Expecting someone?" Lewis asks, glancing at you as you set the Hermes box on the coffee table.

"No.. oh wait yeah, the take out guy." You say, getting up. Lewis waves you off, getting up and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. "I'm not a broke med student anymore, Lewis. I can afford to pay for dinner."

"As can I, so hush." He says, making his way down the foyer to the front door, paying the man.

You can hear bits and pieces of their hushed conversation, the man thanks him before the door shuts.

The bags are taken to the kitchen and you see him looking around, clearly looking for something. You decide to put him out of his misery, getting up to help him look for plates. Lewis stops, leaning on the counter as he watches you get the dishes out of the cupboard.

"I'm sorry." He says, his words catching you off guard.

Your brows furrow, looking at him. "What for?"

"For everything. What happened in the past… That was between us and I know that it was my fault, and I shouldn't have said what I said, but I truly am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I would just like to start over if you give me the chance."

"Okay," you nod, setting the plates on the table.

"Okay."

He joined you at the table, the two of you sitting quietly and eating dinner like you've done many times over the years. Tonight was different though, there was a sense of relief in the air as if this tension had been lifted off your shoulders after so many years. The quiet sound of cutlery clinking against the dishes and Roscoe's snores coming from the fireplace filled the house.

At some point after dinner, you were putting the dishes in the sink and Lewis asked if he should open a bottle of wine that he brought. You shrug, reaching into the cabinet to get the glasses while Lewis pulls the cork out of the bottle before filling the glasses half way.

The house is quiet as the two of you sit on the couch, Lewis handing you a glass of wine. It's a comfortable silence, Lewis takes a sip of his wine as he looks over at you; he can't help but notice how you've aged beautifully over the years, not in a you look old sort of way but the maturity you've come into seems to suit you perfectly.

Next to him, you seem to make the same realization but with him. Lewis what is a baby faced, starting to find himself boy when you two had you falling out. Now he was grown, and even more handsome than the day you had walked away from him.

You take the first step, setting the glass down on the coffee table before reaching for Lewis's glass, setting it with yours.

The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife, the two of you sitting there in silence, inching closer and closer with each passing second until he finally closes the gap between the two of you.

Lewis's hands find your hips, the man pulling you onto his lap. You settle against him as if you had always been there. His lips trail down your neck, hands slipping under your shirt.

"No," you whispered, your hands wrapping around his wrists. Lewis looked at you confused, wondering if he had done something wrong.

"What?"

"We can't do this here."

"Why not?" He asks and you nod towards Roscoe, the dog still fast asleep by the fireplace.

Lewis can't help but laugh, his forehead pressing to your shoulder. "Love, he's asleep. It's fine."

"Oh my god," you smacked his shoulder, "that doesn't mean we're gonna fuck in front of him."

He raises an eyebrow, "we're gonna fuck?"

"Don't be a fuckboy, Lew." The man ignored your words, his arms wrapping around you, picking you up with ease, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom. Despite the years he hadn't spent there, nothing's changed.

Lewis drops you on the bed and you propped yourself up, watching him get undressed before he sits next to you, his hand cups your jaw and you smile at him. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hi,” he smiles at you, leaning down to kiss your nose and you scrunch it in response. “You’re cheeky.”

“You love it,” he says, kissing your nose again.

Lewis leans down a bit more and kisses you but you pull away, sliding off the bed. “We can't.” You tell him, about to walk away but he grabs your hips, pulling you to stand between his legs.

Your hands rest on his shoulders, sliding up to rest on his jaw. His beard tickles the palm of your hand as you look at him. Lewis doesn't have to say anything and all the worries seem to slip away in the moment, it was as if you hadn't spent a single day apart.

The man pulls you down on top of him, his hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist as you sit yourself on his lap.

“We-” you go to remind him once more but he cuts you off with a kiss. Lewis flips the two of you over, letting you lay on your back when he gets off the bed, he pulls you to the edge of the bed.

Your eyes fixed on the man between your legs, looking at him in awe. Something about Lewis always fascinated you; you could never put your finger on it but he was always an object of fascination, of desire.

He can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the lace you’re wrapped up in under your clothes and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor. He shifts to sit on his knees between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt.

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking; he wants you to look at him.

Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair.

Lewis knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Lewis gives in.

Two fingers pushing into you, Lewis glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit.

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. Lewis pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness.

Your chest heaving, your grip on his hair loosening now that you’re right on the edge, you’re almost there and he just has to - he’s stopped.

“Why'd you stop?” You sit up, a pout on your lips when you look at the man between your legs.

“Shush, you love hanging on the edge,” Lewis tells you with a smile, unbuttoning his pants.

He lines himself up with you, and Lewis lets you take him little by little, pulling out almost all the way each time before finally pushing into you all the way. He's in charge and you both know it, letting him set the pace; slow and steady and it was driving you insane.

You needed him.

You didn’t want slow, you wanted it hard and messy, the type of fuck where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

“Lew, come on.” Your hand reaches to rest on his hand that’s on your hip. “Need more.”

“Do you?” He hums, moving a little faster.

You know giving him attitude won’t help but you can’t help but roll your eyes, “more than that.”

“Needy,” he calls, pulling you closer by your legs.

Finally, you get what you want, Lewis’s hips hitting the back of your thighs, he leans over you and your arms are pinned about your head, both legs up on his shoulders now. The angle was enough to push you over the edge but he didn’t care.

“Lew please-” you tried to wiggle your hands loose but he didn’t budge.

“What’s wrong baby?” he asks, mockingly, “isn't this what you wanted?”

“It is, but-” your head tosses back, back arched when he hits the spot he was looking for.

“Oh,” he coos, smiling at you. “Is my baby so fucked out, she can’t even tell me what she wants?” His thrusts are sloppy, you knew he was just as close as you were.

“Gonna cum-” you barely get out between strangled moans. Lewis finally lets go of your wrists and one of his hands has wrapped around your throat.

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more.

He watches as your eyes flutter shut and he reaches for you with his other hand, holding your jaw and pulling you up a little, your elbows holding up the weight of your body.

“Look at me when you cum.”

You’re forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, focusing on him. A few more sloppy thrusts and between that and his fingers, you’re over the edge. He kisses you, muffling the noise you were making. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Lewis follows behind you.

The two of you are still tangled together, laying in bed next to each other. Lewis looks over at you, you look back at him with a sleepy smile on your face.

"Should I.."

"Should you.." you trailed off, waiting to hear what he says. Lewis shrugs, "should I go home?"

You take a moment to think, not about kicking him out - that was never an option but perhaps the things that lead you here.

There's a noise from outside the door, a sort of scratching. Seems like Roscoe had woken up and came looking for you two. Lewis takes the hint, getting up to open the door for the dog. You put on your shirt and your panties and Lewis lets Roscoe in, the dog jumping up on the bed with some assistance from his dad.

Lewis gets under the covers with you, Roscoe settled at the edge of the bed. You look over at Lewis, his hand resting on yours.

"I think you should." You tell him quietly and Lewis's brows furrow, a pout forming on his lips. "I should?" He asks.

You nod, "you should stay."

Lewis lets out a soft sigh, smiling. His hand squeezes yours gently. "I'll stay."

---

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baddiewiththebook · 6 months

Text

ONE OF THE BOYS [PART 3]

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n Oh, my god. When I tell y’all that everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. I stayed up all night writing and editing just to get it out today, so you don’t have to wait another week when I’m off from work again. Yesterday, I was going to surprise y’all with a back to back upload, but when my laptop died and all of my content got deleted, I needed a pause. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Part 3 of a series I didn’t know would become a series.

[Part 2] Part 3

-> <-

You decide to wake up at five because your eyes wouldn’t stay shut any longer. Ripping the blankets off your body, the cool air nips at your skin. You shove your toes into your slippers. Tripping over your tennis shoes, you rethink how close you are to your desk. Feeling around for the corner, you find the desk and you begin to aim yourself the other way. You yelp when your waist collides into the doorknob and you silently curse to yourself while trying desperately not to wake your family. Shuffling through the dark, you take mini steps to your bathroom.

Closing the door behind you, you flick on bathroom light. Squinting, your eyes adjust and the shock of the bright room dulls. You use the toilet first, before your bladder combusts. While washing your hands, you meet your own face in the mirror.

Mornings weren’t your best look. Your hair mats to one side because you’re a side sleeper. Sometimes when your sick you’ll lay on your back to keep your stomach from getting nauseous. Instead of drying your hands on a towel, you toss them back into your hair to mold and shape what’s on your head. Massaging your scalp, you forget your worries for a moment. You wash your hands of the hair that sticks to your hands, and then you dry them off.

You bounce back from the shower when you twist the hot water handle. Water splashes in your face anyway. Steam breathes into your bathroom and you almost feel suffocated by the hot air. That’s what wakes you up in the morning. You strip, then step inside allowing the beads of hot water to bake your skin. The soap you use is plain and boring. It moisturizes the layers of your skin without leaving a scent behind. You watch the bubbles drain below you.

Leaving the shower is harder to you then getting back in. Your day will begin as soon as you step out. Going to school feels like a chore. Your classes all have projects due by the end of the week or by the end of the month. Then there’s the obvious boy you are trying to avoid. Before you can imagine any lewd situations between yourself and him (and trust that you have plenty), you switch off the water to your shower.

You don’t like washing your face in hot water, so you wait until your dry and you have a towel wrapped around your body. The icy water pricks at your pores. You dry, and you apply a thick layer of moisturizer to your skin.

Finding yourself vulnerable in a towel, and thrown into darkness once again because you have forgotten your clothes in your bedroom, you shimmy across the hallway once again.

When you choose a lotion, you act as though you won’t pick the same option you have been for as long as you can remember. The label reads ‘Fruity.’ Simple enough. Throwing on an extra spritz of perfume to compliment the lotion. You like to spray perfume while you’re bare to ensure the smell sticks to you, rather than your clothes.

Wrapping yourself in your robe, you want to take a peak at the sky. Rain clouds form above. Gray all day. You happen to, also, see that Eddie’s trailer is dark. Wayne Munson’s truck is on, and he’s in the driver’s seat waiting for the engine to warm. He goes to work early, and he stays late. That’s how you got to spend so many days and nights at Eddie’s growing up.

You’d tell your mom that you were spending the night with your friend Robin, and she would cover for you in a heartbeat. She must have known what was going on before you did. Did that even count - if you didn’t know?

You shy away from the window.

Going through your closet, you find an acceptable pair of denim that’s right on your hips and loose at your ankles. The striped sweater you call your favorite will scratch at you skin all day, so you put on a plain shirt on underneath.

If the you from a few months ago, saw you sitting at your desk whipping out all of the tools and the sponges that it took to apply makeup to your skin, you’d shrivel in a corner and cry. You got used to the feeling of the brushes against your skin. The way your face feels with a bit of foundation. And the sticky feeling of mascara pressing on your eyes.

As you finish powdering your nose, your stomach growls. Your hungry.

The sun is beginning to wake, and you’re able to move through the home a bit smoother. You find yourself in the kitchen pawing through the refrigerator. No one has gone grocery shopping in a few weeks, so your options are limited.

You take the box of Honey Comb cereal off the top of the fridge. A bowl off the drying rack will do, and there’s even a spoon next to it. You pluck out your mom’s cigarettes that she “hides” inside the box. She doesn’t count them when she smokes, so you know that you can sneak one into your pocket for later.

After pouring yourself a bowl of cereal, and stealing your mom’s cigarettes, you grab the milk from the fridge. It’s heavy. When you open the milk the rancid sour odor spoils your appetite.

“Jesus!” You curse.

The expiration reads about a week ago. Gross.

You toss the milk.

Even though you’re completely grossed out, you shovel a few bites of dry cereal down your throat. Dipping your head under the sink for a drink of water, you slurp down the crumbs sticking to the sides of your mouth.

By the time you’ve brushed your teeth, your watch reads seven fifteen in the morning. If you head to school now, you’ll be there by seven thirty.

That’s exactly what you do.

The drive is quiet. Most of the town hasn’t woken yet for their day. Shops still have signs in their window that read ‘Closed.’

You’re allowed into the cafeteria with the other early birds once you get to school. Finding a group of girls you’re in home room with, they welcome you for a study session.

“You look so pretty,” Michelle gushes over your makeup.

You smile. “You too. I love your shirt.”

“I got it on sale,” she tells you the name of the store. “We should all go shopping on Saturday.”

“Girls day out!” Lisa snaps her fingers. “Count! Me! In!”

The three of you small chat for a bit, before you dive into your awaiting assignments. They’re there to help you. You reciprocate the action when they want advise.

The school bell rings.

You pack up, and you wave goodbye for now. But, you’ll see them again in just a few moments when you get to class.

Heading to your locker for the first time in months, you have to try the code twice. The third time’s the charm. You take the specimen in your locker between your index and your thumb. Finding the nearest trash can, you throw the moldy sandwich away. At least the smell hadn’t penetrated through the bag yet.

You’re just zipping up your backpack after ridding yourself of about a hundred pounds of unnecessary textbook weight when someone shouts at the end of the hall.

Petty squabbles between students, you’re usually able to ignore. However, as all the noise is headed in your direction, you hear your name in between cursed and yells. A catastrophic tornado blows your way. Your feet are firm to the ground in terror.

Roxie’s purple, and about to blow a blood vessel judging by the vein nearly popping out of her neck. Hot on her trail is petite Indie, who’s begging for Roxie to just listen to her.

“Hey, you!” Roxie jabs her finger in your face.

Indie tumbled over her own feet, “Roxie!”

You check over your shoulder in hopes that someone might be there. No one is there except a few onlookers she’s drawn in her tirade. Now, you’re thinking. Eddie couldn’t have spilt the beans this quickly. Could he?

“Oh, I’m coming for you, bitch,” she snarls.

You’re toast.

Roxie is larger than you in all retrospects, but she’s especially big in muscle. If she’s about to pummel you, then you’ll be knocked over and split in two like a pin and she’s the ball going a hundred miles an hour.

“Can’t we talk this out?” Indie asks through gasps of air.

You stare between them. Indie isn’t after you by the worried expression she holds. Still unsure exactly what Roxie’s prattling on about, you decide to wait before you interject.

“Is there something going on between you and Eddie?” Roxie demands.

See, you knew their relationship wasn’t casual! Still, you did nothing wrong. Yesterday, you didn’t even express to Eddie that you liked him in the first place. You wanted to drop the conversation, and he kept going. This is his fault. Why isn’t he about to get a fist to the face? Who’s to say he hasn’t already? Yikes.

Roxie sucks her tongue to her teeth.

“Uh-,” you’re still loading in the information, and you hesitate to answer right away. “N- no?”

“Is that a question?” Her hot breath hits your nose.

You bring your hands down to your sides because you can’t let her see you trembling like a leaf. If she smells fear, she’ll know she’s won. Her prey is hers for the taking.

You’re tired of this. “Eddie and I have nothing going on. We’re just- just friends.”

You have a hard time saying that, but not for the reasons that Roxie has in mind. You’re not even sure if Eddie wants to be your friend anymore.

“Okay,” she sticks her tongue into the flesh of her jaw, and then says. “How come last night he moaned your name instead of mine?”

Blood rushes to your ears. Your face is on fire, and you’re sure everyone can see so.

Onlookers jeer and whisper amongst themselves. Rumors are already beginning from mouth to mouth; and, hitting ear to ear.

You would also like to understand what she meant by “moaning your name.” Spare the details. Obviously, you knew what happened last night. You wipe the winner’s smirk off your face, before Roxie even notices.

“I don’t know,” you fold your arms across your chest. “Shouldn’t you ask him?”

Roxie squares her shoulders. She clenched her fists until her knuckles are white. Cursing a few more angry words your way, she’s a bull ready to charge. You might as well be wearing all red.

“What’s going on here?!”

Miss Brown sticks her nose into the hallway and notices the crowd of people. Before anyone can do anything rash, she pushes her way into the center of the chaos. With an ostentatious sort of sigh that suggests she’s better than all of you, she starts breaking up the fight.

“Off to class,” Miss Brown shoo’s them.

“Let’s go, Roxie,” Indie grits her teeth.

Roxie eyes you one more time. “Fine. I’ll be seeing you later.”

You gulp.

It’s time to play a new game around school: Hide from Roxie! Winners get the very rewarding prize of not getting their face beat in.

You dart from class to class all morning. A huge target sticks to your back with Roxie aiming for a bullseye. Meanwhile, Eddie is still no where to be found. He’s probably hiding under his sheets at home, full of shame when he mistook your name for hers.

That’s just fine by you. You still didn’t want to see him either. Or, maybe you did. First, to clear the air about you liking him. A little flimsy crush isn’t going to break a friendship, right? You’ll get over it in time. Secondly, you’re sure that him naming you is a big misunderstanding. He just got distracted or something.

After lunch was over, you planned to sneak through Mr Campbell’s empty classroom. He doesn’t have afternoon classes, and you can easily shoot through since there is a door on either side of the hallway.

“Over there!”

Roxie has the cheerleaders involved now. No doubt they want a piece of judge, jury and conviction too.

Colliding into something solid, you topple over onto the tile. You’re swept away in thought and you forget to watch where your going. Mr. Campbell has that skeleton on wheels that he’ll leave just about anywhere. But, you haven’t knocked over that stupid skeleton.

It’s Eddie.

“Oh, God,” you rub your backside.

Eddie gasps, “What are you doing?”

“What am I-,” you snap. “What the hell are you doing? Your girlfriend almost tackled me like linebacker!”

Eddie shushes you. “Do you want her to hear? She’s not my girlfriend. I told you it’s casual.”

“Casual?” You want to yell, but you also don’t want her to hear. The last thing you need is for Roxie to see you in the same room as Eddie. “Whatever you have is not casual.”

“I messed up, okay?” He rubs his temple. “Jesus!”

Your chin lifts at the familiar brrring of the school bell. Now, you’re skipping class. You’ll get another hour of detention no matter if you stay here or go to class.

“You’re hiding from her too?” You conclude.

Detention doesn’t matter to Eddie. He just wants to ensure you’re okay. Judging by the way you’re creeping through empty classrooms, you’re doing just about as good as he is.

"I'm not hiding," he jumps when someone's locker slams. "Okay, so maybe I am hiding."

"This is so humiliating," you cry.

Eddie apologizes, “I’m sorry-,”

“You’re sorry?”

You’re grateful that the light in the room is limited. Otherwise, you don’t know if you could have a conversation with him right now. Eddie has these eyes that you could simply drown in.

“It was an accident,” he claims. “You’re the one who said-,”

“I didn’t say anything,” you correct him. “You’re the one with the wild imagination.”

“Wild imagination?!”

“Maybe I do like Jeff, hm? Or- or maybe I’ve come to realize that Gareth is a great guy. Did you think of that?” You stand before him, while he scrunches down into a chair. “Eddie Munson you’re selfish - no, you’re self centered. All about Eddie- it’s Eddie’s world and we’re all just there like puppets on strings.”

“You done?”

“No!” You snap. “Yes.”

“How could you call me self-centered when you’ve been prancing around this place like the rest of the guys don’t exist? Everyone wants to know where you are all the time. Why would I know? Oh, because you’re supposed to be my best friend,” Eddie rubs his hands across his face. “God, when did things get so complicated?”

"When you started calling me one of the guys in middle school, and I just wanted whatever you wanted,” you admit out loud. “Why do you think I changed when Gareth mentioned Roxie? I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Eddie’s unreadable. Although dark, you can see his thoughts bubble and burst.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continue. “You don’t like me like that.”

“Who’s to say that?” Eddie’s voice comes out barely audible.

You shake your head. “Don’t pity me.”

Eddie kicks the stool from under him, “I’m not.”

“Eddie,” you pick at your nails. “What we have is a great friendship. I’m lucky that you’re in my life. I don’t want to risk messing that up. Are- are you okay with that? Are we okay?”

Eddie doesn’t want to leave the air so broken. While the words are spelled out in front of him, he can’t find a way to bring them out.

“We’re okay,” he says.

-> <-

Flicking a green bean on his plate with a fork, Eddie can’t be bothered to bring the food to his lips. Nothing passes his mouth. He watches the ice crystals on his steak defrost because he doesn’t want Uncle Wayne to worry that he’s messed up dinner, since this is the first one they’ve shared in a while. Wayne told his boss that he wanted to be home tonight for Eddie, and here he is.

“You’re not eating?” His uncle points out because Wayne has eaten half of his meal, and he worries that Eddie is appearing a bit gray and slender.

Eddie replies. “I ate a lot at school.”

“In the years that you’ve been under my roof, you haven’t stopped eating,” Wayne lowers his head to meet his nephew’s eye. “Try again.”

Eddie pushes the microwaved dinner aside. A low hum comes from the television, and he’s not even sure what’s on. Someone’s bobbing around like a baboon trying to make a woman smile. Yet another attempt from Wayne to make Eddie relive his childhood, he guesses.

“That girl your seeing isn’t pregnant is she?” Wayne presses when Eddie won’t talk. “Eddie Munson, I’ve told you to use a condom-,”

“No,” he cocks his head to rethink. “No, she’s not.”

Even if Roxie was pregnant, she’d get an abortion and make Eddie pay for it. Actually, he still owes her for the condoms.

Eddie wants to be done with women for a while. But, there is still this pinching on his ears that reminds him you’re still there. He’s actually wearing a pair of your studs that you forgot at his house one day. Since Eddie is prone to losing just about everything, he’s decided to wear them so they don’t get lost. No one even notices except for him. They hide behind his hair.

“Look,” Eddie wets his lips. “If I tell you, then you have to promise me you won’t do that weird ‘oooh’ thing you do. Got it?”

Wayne claps his hands together. Say no more. He’s solved the case! That little lady across the park has had her eye on him since the day Eddie moved in. Wayne really likes her. ‘Thinks she’s a great ball of sunshine that can keep Eddie under control. He’s been just waiting for Eddie to wake up and smell the coffee!

“Really?” Wayne excites.

Eddie exhales. “Don’t-,”

“Wait,” he lectures. “You’re not seeing both of them are you? Eddie Munson that is wrong, and I won’t tolerate that behavior. I taught you better.”

“No-,”

“Seriously, boy. Wear a condom. It’s not just for you, but her too you know?”

“Wayne-,”

“You can’t be spreading your butter on everyone’s toast.”

“Wayne!”

“I knew it,” he blabs on. “Ever since I caught you two brushing each other’s teeth. Oh, I saw this coming - I did!”

That incident happened once, and Wayne would never let Eddie live that down.

You smoke one joint.

After sitting in his room complaining of boredom, you tell Eddie you had never brushed someone else’s teeth before. He hadn’t either. You wanted to try. But, Eddie would only let you if the offer went both ways. Wayne burst in when you were scrubbing his tongue. You splattered toothpaste all over the mirror, while Eddie tried to keep you from squirming so he could scrub your teeth.

“You need to learn how to knock,” Eddie tries sailing with the conversation his old man is going on about.

Wayne challenges. “You know there’s no closed doors when you have girls over, Eddie.”

“Oh, my God.”

Reliving the memory, Eddie wants to make more with you. Cooking. You’ll cook. He’ll burn food. You’ll tell him he’s doing a wonderful job anyway because you’re too sweet to tell him to get out before he burns the house down. Eddie visions that you’ll teach him a better way to organize his clothes. You’ve already tried to show him how to fold, but Eddie only lasted a week doing your method before going back to shoving the clothes in whatever drawer is the least bit full. He’ll now admit that he only let you teach him because he wanted you close. He wants you close. Always.

It’s not just domestic stuff he sees. He wants to take you on a date. Many dates. He wants to take you out of Hawkins, even if it’s for just a day. He misses your laugh. Seeing you cry today broke him. Knowing that you’ve changed everything for him, and he didn’t notice. Because at the core of all the makeup and the hair, he guesses, that he just didn’t care. He loves all the extra, don’t get him wrong, but all he can see is you.

“What are you going to do, boy?” Wayne wonders.

Eddie replies in a question, “What if everything goes wrong? I- I can’t lose her, Wayne.”

“Son-,”

“What if I just turn out like him? Like my father?”

Eddie’s lip quivers, as he bites back the tears he’s been holding onto for years. Not a day goes by does he not miss his father, even if the years weren’t kind to him. His father is locked away somewhere in State, but he hasn’t visited. They’ll take one look at Eddie and they’ll try to lock him away too.

“That’s not you, Eddie,” Wayne opens his arms. “Come here.”

Eddie drops his head onto his uncle’s shoulder. Tears slide down his cheek and across his chin.

“Deep breaths,” he rubs his hand across Eddie’s back.

He doesn’t cry for long, and Wayne wipes his tears when he’s calmer. This isn’t a usual interaction between them, but neither of them care. Wayne takes away a stray eyelash from Eddie’s cheek.

“You like this girl?” Wayne says as a fact more than a question.

Eddie nods.

“You have to try,” he insists.

“Yeah, okay,” his nephew agrees.

Wayne and Eddie end their conversation there. Eddie eventually eats (after microwaving the food because he could have broken teeth on that steak), and the show that his uncle makes him watch isn’t half bad. Their night comes to a close when his uncle snores.

Mouth agape, head tipped over and his feet propped up, Wayne would be out for the night.

Eddie tucks his uncle’s toes beneath the blanket Wayne was hugging. Tip toeing his way into the kitchen, he puts both forks into the sink along with their drinking glasses. The TV dinners find home in the trash can. While Eddie left the television on to lull his uncle in his sleep, Eddie flicks off the living room and the kitchen lights. He sneaks off to his bedroom, the only bedroom in the trailer. Wayne gave up the space for Eddie to grow into.

Eddie finds that sleep won’t do.

You project onto his ceiling like a film about his life. There you are. Every new milestone. Eddie didn’t think about just how many times you were there for him. His birthdays come to mind, even the ones he didn’t want to be there for because he doesn’t always feel like he deserves to be celebrated. You’d sneak off to get him a beer when his uncle was distracted with all the other kids invited.

When you kept him from going outside, while Wayne drove up in his brand new van that was a gift for Eddie when he got his license. Wayne took on extra hours just for him. That might just have been the night his heart beat a little faster for you. Watching you perform songs in your living room in that ridiculous feather boa and sunglasses, Eddie’s drawn to laugh at the memory of you out of tune and off key. You didn’t care. The hair brush you swore was a microphone was just not working that night. You’re much better performer in the shower, you’d said.

Eddie sits up in bed, and he can see that your bedroom light is still on. Your curtains are drawn, but your silhouette dances about. Bouncing up and down will sometimes get rid of your last bit of energy, Eddie’s witnessed your routine first hand. Your wild, and Eddie finds this fascinating.

When your silhouette disappears, but the light remains, Eddie concludes that you’re reading a chapter book. You told Eddie to try reading sometime because that’s what helped you get to sleep. He bought his first book that very same day.

The Lord of the Rings was your suggestion. Not that he hadn’t found it first, but he wasn’t about to point it out. Eddie sees the book hidden under a lighter he used last night.

Smoking seemed obvious to him. He couldn’t sleep, so he would light up. With Wayne home, though, Eddie didn’t want the smell getting to him. He’s pretty sure Wayne knows he smokes by now, and he doesn’t care. Eddie isn’t a reckless smoker by any means, and he keeps to himself. If Wayne found out he was selling, that would be a different story.

Never the less, Eddie reads page after page of the same book he’s been fascinated by for weeks. He immerses himself into the books wishing he could be the hero, rather than the one who runs in the face of danger.

Eddie hears your front door open and close. This interests him and tips his head up. Tossing the book aside like he’s suddenly been hypnotized, he looks through his window.

You’re on the porch in thin pajamas and a robe. A lit cigarette slots between your fingers. You only smoke when you’re stressed. Pacing back and forth, Eddie understands that you’re talking to yourself. He just can’t make out the words.

This is creepy. Eddie shuts his window, and sinks back in bed. Leaving you alone - leaving you alone.

The words in his book blur into blobs of unrecognizable text. All he can see right now is you on that porch. You’re alone - and you’re probably cold. He has a blanket that he could offer. Maybe he could- no, he is leaving you alone.

Eddie wants to untangle the knot he has in his belly. He even tries to convince himself that he’s still hungry. But, he knows he won’t eat. You’re there. Even if you were caked in mud, you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Actually, he has seen you caked in mud before. You were definitely hot then too.

Oh, God. What was he doing?

Pulling open his closet now, Eddie finds a jacket to slip on over his pajamas. He takes an extra blanket with him. It’s a bit torn up, but the blanket is clean. Wayne washed the blanket a couple of days ago, along with Eddie’s sheets which he claimed he could smell from across town. Eddie was not that dirty. It was the weed - but, er - don’t ask about the stains. He doesn’t know what they are or where they came from. Seriously, don’t ask.

Wayne is still snoring in the living room. He mutters in his sleep when Eddie opens the front door, and he doesn’t see Wayne stir once the door shuts.

His uncle stretches, and wakes up enough to take a leak in his bathroom. By the time he returns to the living room, he catches a glimpse from the window in the living room. His boy is with you on your porch making you smile and making you blush.

Wayne doesn’t need to spy. He’s seen this movie before when his brother made moves on his girl. It’d be a few more years until Eddie is born, but the picture is already there.

“Atta boy,” Wayne cheers to himself.

Eddie’s sitting with you, and sharing a cigarette. You’re not sleeping either. Dried black makeup you haven’t smudged off is stuck under your eyes. He wants to swipe it away, but he doesn’t know if he should.

“Is your mom in tonight?” Eddie asks.

You shake your head. “No, but my dad is such a deep sleeper. He’s nothing to worry about.”

Eddie worries about your dad catching him there with his only daughter, then your mom who likes to call you both “crazy kids.” Your dad is stern. Overprotective. He’s jokes about having a gun locked away somewhere, but Eddie still has no idea if he is joking. You won’t tell him because truthfully you don’t know.

“What’s got you up?” Eddie brings the blanket closer to you because he sees your shoulders dance.

You shake your head blowing out smoke to the left where Eddie isn’t.

Eddie takes a drag from the cigarette after he says, “I don’t think I’ve been all that honest with you.”

He reads your face.

“Not like that,” he can’t look at you, so he counts the floorboards of your porch. “I said we’re okay, but I don’t think we are.”

Your heart skips in your chest. “What do you mean?”

While Eddie might not be able to look at you, your eyes are all on him. In the moonlight, he’s like this shiny thing. You can’t put your thoughts into words, but he’s carved by the shine of the moon. He might hide his face with his hair, but when he hunches over you relax a bit.

You haven’t been able to put yourself in bed. Knowing that Eddie was there had wrecked your mind. You’re itching to be near him.

The whole day you thought about nothing, but him. How unsatisfied you are with your earlier conversation. You thought being the one to take charge in the conversation, and assert yourself, might make the blow easier. Truthfully, it hurt even worse.

You spent the evening sobbing in your room like a baby. Friends. You signed your name at the bottom of that contract. But, then, you thought about the day you’ll find a nice boy that will like you back. You’ll get married. You’ll get a house. Everything will be okay. But, as you thought about your life, your mind wondered about Eddie. What happens when he finds a girl? He’ll have a wife and he’ll have a house too.

You’ll be at that wedding. Sitting in a chair that’s not too close to the front, but also not all the way in the back. The band sits in front of you. They might not be able to pronounce the brand name, but their check cashes on their suits. All of your friends are his friends.

Eddie’s fiancé is faceless, but her gown is breathtaking. They’ll say ‘I do.’

You’ll cry along with them, but the tears you shed are ones you let out at a funeral. Are you just supposed to sit there and pretend like you don’t want to throw up?

Because that’s not you standing at the alter.

That’s some chick he’s met on the road while he tours with the band. Sure she’s great. But, the sight sickens you. Maybe that means your selfish, but you can’t do this. You can’t see Eddie with another woman. You refuse to see it because Eddie’s always been with you.

“I’m sorry?” You’ve spaced out while Eddie is speaking.

He begins to say, “please don’t make me repeat myself.”

Throwing the cigarette to the ground, you stamp out the flame. You wrap your hands around his neck, and you pull him forward. Eddie's lips meet yours in an awaited embrace. Longing and passionate. His hands burrow into your hair pulling you ever closer. The tender touch of his fingers fall to your waist to tell you he's not going anywhere.

You can't be sure which one of you pull away first. But, when your eyes open you breathe a sigh of relief. Eddie is still there, and he's about as hot in the face as you feel. You let out a breathy laugh, and he hides his grin behind his hair.

It doesn't take long for him to ask,

"Can I take you out sometime?"

And, of course, you say. "Yes!"

-> <-

tags: @hellfirenacht @queercodedcharacter @ogoc-19 @littlewinchester1 @stardustingold @ghost4love @spenciesprincess @animechick555 @foggyfooz @aactuaaltraash @loves0phelia @sofaritsalrightt @thisisktrying @somethingvicked @sebastiansstanswhore

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson preference #eddie munson imagine #angst #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things preference #stranger things fic

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pricefieldsuperiority · 6 days

Text

Yearning Allegations

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn

Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?

Paige Bueckers was your best friend.

She was also one of the most popular players on the Uconn Huskies.

Although many loved her, none of them knew her like you did. Most certainly, none of them loved her like you did.

You had known her since the first year of high school, where you two hit it off in English class, teasing her about how slowly she read. She had just shot some stupid comment back at you, and from then on, you two were inseparable - which is why you were sitting courtside at this very moment, happily watching her play.

"And that's time, another win for Uconn!!"

The announcer shouted loud as Paige threw the basketball at the last second, arcing perfectly into the net. She beamed wide as she turned around, her cheeks pink with pride, scanning the crowd for you. Her eyes seemed to shine a little brighter, or so you thought, upon landing on you.

She grinned in your direction, nodding slightly at you, as she ran past you to congratulate her teammates. They tackled her, nearly knocking her over. The crowd's roar was racious in your ears, their shouts nearly as loud as yours. Uconn had won again. You smiled to yourself, Paige was gonna be absolutely insufferable after this. She always was after games like these.

You waited patiently outside the change rooms, scrolling mindlessly on tiktok, waiting for Paige to finish up. Usually, she stayed a few extra minutes afterward, yapping with the team about whatever, and then would come out with KK, jokingly bickering about some nonsense. You hadn't been waiting more than 5 minutes when Paige came bounding out alone, grinning proudly. You grinned back, amused. She was like a 6 ft tall puppy.

"Yooo y/n, did you see me out there??!" Paige threw her arm around you as you guys started the familiar walk to her dorm. After wins, she'd refuse to let you get any work done so you didn't even bother going back to your dorm at this point.

"Yeah, I saw!!" You say, unable to stop yourself from smiling back. Paige's smile was genuinely infectious.

"Dude, I'm the best hooper at Uconn for reallll hahah." Her laughter echos around the hallway.

You roll your eyes and pat the hand she has draped over your shoulder.

"Ehhhh, I think you're alright"

Paige scoffs at you, eyebrows raised.

"Come on, just alright?? You love me, don't lie. " Her eyes are alight with happiness and you fight the corners of your mouth, looking away.

"That play at the end was eh, I've seen better"

Paige rolls her eyes, scoffing yet again before holding the door open for you, leaning against it.

"You're a terrible liar y/n"

Before you can reply, Paige ruffles your hair, and you bat her hand away, complaining. She grabs your hand, and you bodycheck her, but to no avail, cause she takes off running to her dorm just to annoy you on purpose. But you laugh anyway, cause it's so typical Paige.

---

It's only a few days later when you find yourself at an infamous Uconn house party, and the alcohol in your system is making your cheeks feel warm. Your red solo cup of vodka is half empty, and you peer at it, wondering if you should leave your comfy spot on the kitchen counter.

You're admiring Paige from across the room, watching her talk to some fans.

She looks hot as hell tonight, dressed in a black cropped tank top and low waisted baggy black cargo pants. Her middriff is on display, and a tiny bit of her boxers peak out. For a second you wonder about what'd it feel like to put your hands there but you force yourself to stop thinking about her, nails digging into your palms as you take another sip of your drink.

Your feelings for Paige had only intensified over the years, becoming harder and harder to ignore as you two got older. In high school, you could just explain it all away because she was your best friend, but now? You guys had only become closer since starting at Uconn, and these days resisting the urge to make a move was becoming nearly unbearable, especially with the looming fact that everyone and their mother wanted Paige.

Normally, you'd just go over to her and yap her ear off, but the amount of alcohol you've had tonight makes you feel like being around her might be a bit dangerous.

So instead, you just stare from afar, watching her put her arm around the girl who's exclaiming she's "her biggest fan." You roll your eyes, inner monologue already snarkly thinking that Paige gets told that at least once a day.

You're so engrossed in watching Paige take pictures- she's now laughing with the fan over some stupid joke- that you don't notice KK's slid over to you.

"Damn girl, you really ain't beating the yearning allegations huh"

Her voice shocks you out of your reverie, and you glance over at her.

"Huh!?? What do you mean-"

KK's eyes are knowing, and she just raises one brow as she pours herself a new drink.

"Boo, we all see the way you look at her"

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. Although you're pretty sure the whole team already knows how you feel, you still refuse to admit it cause what if that got back to Paige? You want her, but not more than your friendship. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to you two. You resist the urge to do anything about how you feel solely to protect your friendship.. but also because you're scared. What if she doesn't like you like that? It'd probably just make everything awkward anyway.

"I don't know what you're talking about- Paige's just my friend." You keep your voice steady, but your expression darkens as you see the girl is STILL talking to Paige, her hand lingering on Paige's waist as she draws back from a hug.

"Uh huh.. whatever you say, " KK says, leaving the kitchen with her refill.

A few minutes later, you're busy answering some texts when Paige comes over.

"Hey, KK told me you're being all edgy and hiding out in the kitchen instead of having fun at the party. You're scaring off the hoes, dude. "

Paige is always more affectionate than normal when she's drunk, and tonight is no different. She places her hand on your thigh, grinning as she peers at your face, and you look at her for a few seconds before you move off the counter to stand.

"I'm not hiding, I was dancing a bit ago I just got tired-" This is technically not a lie, considering you did dance for a few minutes before deciding to become the next Joe Goldberg.

"Rightttt..." Paige towers over you, an annoying fact that hasn't changed since high school.

You're about to reply with some smart ass answer when some girl walks into the kitchen, cup in hand, her jaw dropping open as she spots Paige.

"Oh my God, Paige Bueckers?!?" The girl's voice raises practically 3 octaves, and you feel so annoyed you resist the urge to just sigh at the sight.

"I love you so much! I was watching you the other day - that final score was so good you really clutched the game-" The girl gushes, her hand resting on Paige's arm. Paige is, of course, grinning broadly. She loves the attention - and you can practically feel a headache coming on from the sound of the girl's voice.

"My head hurts real bad, gonna go back to my dorm-" You murmur as you pass Paige to leave.

"Oh, are you okay?" Her attention is momentarily distracted by your leave, and you try to inject some pep into your voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

---

Authors note: Hope yall don't mind a slowburn! Thought it'd be cute to make a short series <3

Trilogy: Part 2 here / Part 3 here

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn #Spotify #slow burn #friends to lovers #uconn wbb #fanfic

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flemingsfreckles · 29 days

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Physio’s Daughter

Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader

Preview: Reader is following in her mother’s footsteps in becoming a physiotherapist and gets the opportunity to spend the afternoon with the Canadian women’s soccer team.

Warnings: none

WC: 3.7k

A/N: this is going to be a few parts

You couldn’t believe you were attending ‘bring your kid to work day’ with your mom as a 22 year old but here you were, in the car on the way to her work.

“Are you sure I’m not too old to be coming with you?” You questioned your mom.

“It’ll be just like going to your clinical rotations. Plus you can put it on your resume, so it's really just helping you.” That’s how your mom had tried to convince you that you’d have fun coming to work with her. “Plus I talked with my boss, he said as of now we have an extra spot on the physio team to take someone to the Olympics, if you do well today, maybe it could be you.”

“Wouldn’t you want someone who's more qualified, not just a student?” You were in the process of obtaining your certification as a physiotherapist. You had finished your bachelor’s degree and were in the middle of your post graduate athletic therapy program.

“We have all the staff we need, they think bringing on someone young might be good. The players might like having someone closer to their age, not just all 40 and 50 year olds on their staff. Plus you’re plenty qualified, we have students in and out of the facility all the time.”

As a kid you always tagged along with your mom, you didn't have much of a choice, having a single mom who worked late hours in secondary schools meant your evenings were spent in her training room or on the sidelines of games. The older you got, the less you went with your mom, opting to stay home or spend time with friends instead of accompanying her at work. When you moved out to go to university you had chosen to follow in your Mom’s footsteps, intending to become a physiotherapist as well. At the same time you moved out, your Mom took on a new job, one that allowed her to travel more, a job with the Canada’s Women’s Soccer Team.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend the day with your mom, you were interested in seeing her work, it was more that you knew you'd be the oldest “kid” who was at her work, a lot of her other staff had either young children or kids that had moved away and were on with their own lives.

The ride to the training facility was short, you got out of the car, and walked into the front door. You followed your mom around the facility, having no idea where to go. She walked you down and around various hallways, saying hello to the other staff who passed with their small children. You just would give a polite hello and a wave before continuing down the hall.

It was a weird feeling, walking into a room of players you recognized from TV, players who were well known across the country and the world, and yet they greeted your Mom with a hello and questions about her weekend, as if they were friends.

“That is my daughter, she thinks she's too old to be here but she's studying to be a physio too so I figured I'd bring her here and get some free labor.” You hear your mom joking with the two players standing in front of her, she's pointing at you over her shoulder and the two players who you recognized to be Janine Beckie and Ashley Lawrence were looking over at you. You politely wave and move over in their direction.

“Hi.” Not knowing what to say to them, you just keep it short.

They both introduce themselves to you, you assume just being polite of them, it would be hard to not know who they were. One of the other physios comes in, taking Ashley to get taped, your mom taking Janine to work on her knee. Not sure what to do with yourself you just stand back, as if you were back to being a shy 6 year old in a new environment hiding behind your mom. You watch your mom work, she moves effortlessly, doing tasks in seconds that would take you minutes. You always admired your Mom at her work but you had a new appreciation now that you had begun school and realized how much work and time it took to learn everything.

Players come and go, getting various treatments, keeping the staff busy. You watch around, seeing the rest of the staff, how they work with the players, how they all seemed so relaxed and at ease.

“Hi Jessie, how are you, what do you need today?” Your mom looks past you toward the door where Jessie Fleming had walked in. Obviously you knew who she was, her olympic heroics from many years ago making her a Canadian household name. On top of her soccer talent that drew your attention as a kid, her appearance definitely didn't hurt. You had always found her pretty, a silly little school girl crush when you were younger watching her on TV as she played as a teenager, something that you had forgotten about over the years but her standing in front of you brought it all back up.

“Hi, I’m doing well. Can I just get my calf worked out? I’ve been having some tightness.” She looked at your mom, a polite smile across her face, she pointed at the empty table as she asked.

“Can you handle that?” You realize your mom is looking at you, asking you to help with Jessie as the rest of the staff is held up with other players. She’s asking you to help

“Um, yeah, sure.” You weren’t going to say no, plus you could handle a simple massage.

“Jessie, this is my daughter, she’s a physio student and plenty qualified to massage your calf, I promise.” You roll your eyes at your mom’s comment, feeling embarrassed that she has to explain that you’re able to help. You wash your hands and walk over to the table Jessie had sat down on.

“Hi, I’m Jessie.” She introduces herself, her hand extended for a handshake, you can't help but let out a small laugh at the fact that she of all people is introducing herself.

“I know who you are.” Your hand meets hers taking her handshake and you quickly introduce yourself to her. Her hand is soft but her handshake is firm, it only lasts a second before you pull back, pointing to her legs.

“Which calf?” You look at her. She points to her left before taking off her sock and she rolls over onto her stomach shifting up the table so that just her foot is hanging off the edge. You grab lotion and rub it into your hands before placing your hands slowly onto Jessie’s leg. You take a few passes of your hands over her leg before starting to dig into the muscle. It doesn't take you long to find the knot that is resting in her leg, focusing on it. You feel Jessie clench her muscle and slightly pull her leg away. You quickly lighten the pressure you were putting on her and you look at the direction of her face. You see a small grimace across her face.

“Are you good?” The last thing you want is to hurt the captain of the team, that probably wouldn't go over well with anyone.

“Yeah it's just sore. I’ve had some previous injury with it.” You knew that, you knew about most of the players' previous injuries, they were publicly announced anyway and you liked to keep up with your mom on what she was doing at work.

“Sorry.” Not sure if it's appropriate to apologize, you do it anyway.

“Oh don’t be, it’s never been a huge injury so I’m lucky. Unless you were saying sorry about the soreness, but then don’t worry, it’s sort of a good hurt I guess.” She stumbles a bit with their words, looking back at you over her shoulder. With her confirmation that the pain wasn’t bad, you return your pressure to her leg, working your fingers deep into her skin.

“Is she doing alright Jessie?” The voice of your Mom comes from behind you, you turn to see her walking up toward you, finished with the other athletes.

“She might be better than you.” Jessie laughs joking with your mom. “No but seriously she's doing great.”

“I taught her well then.” Your mom gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking away and moving to a desk to do some paperwork.

You finish up with Jessie’s calf, letting her know she should be good to go, the knot being worked out. She stands up with a smile and thanks you for the help. She uses your name when she thanks you which causes a small blush to come across your cheeks. You can't keep your eyes off of her as she walks out to head to the field. When she turns the corner and out of your sight you shake your head, trying to clear your mind as you feel the small childhood crush come crawling back up.

You clean up the table you had been working on, putting the lotion away and wiping down the table with sanitizer. Moving over to where your mom was working, she was completing reports for each of the players who had come in for treatment, she passed them to you to file once she’s completed with them. When the paperwork is done you follow her out to the pitch. You find yourself sitting on the bench, watching as the players work through drills, your mom occasionally going to chat with the coaching staff or other physios.

You couldn't help but watch Jessie, watching how effortlessly she made moving the ball look, how much power and control she had on the ball, it was fascinating. On a couple of occasions you found yourself admiring her physique a little too much, watching as her muscles twitch with every movement. You also started to notice she was favoring her weight on her right leg the longer practice went on.

“Mom.” You get your mom’s attention, not wanting to make the call yourself on if Jessie’s movements were unusual. “Does Fleming usually favor her right leg?”

“What?” She moves over closer to you, looking out to the field in the direction of Jessie. You both watch as Jessie takes another pass, moving upfield with the ball. “Oh, no she doesn't, I mean she prefers her right foot, but not like that.”

At the next water break you see your mom sitting in front of Jessie, hand on her calf, you watch as they talk about your mom maneuvering her leg. When the team moves back to the field, the players and coaches bring out their kids, letting them join in on games. Jessie stays sitting, now talking with your mom and the coach. She then stands up, your mom following her in your direction.

“Can you take her inside? I want to be overcautious and treat her for a calf strain, heat pack, use the TENS unit, then have her roll out, ice and tape.” Your mom throws a laundry list of tasks at you.

“Of course.” You stand up, grabbing your water and phone from next to you before heading in the direction of the physio room.

“Sorry you're getting stuck with me again.” You apologize to Jessie, trying to make small talk with the girl and also hoping she doesn’t feel like she’s getting stuck with just the student again.

“Oh, I don't mind. I wasn't really joking earlier when I said you did a better job than your mom.” She gives you a smile, you feel the flutter in your stomach. Her praise is nice, but it's the smile that she's giving you that makes your stomach flip, it’s gentle and friendly. “Don't take that the wrong way, your mom is excellent, just it was different, you were more thorough maybe, I’m not sure, it was just different.” Jessie rambles.

“That's probably because I’m more nervous about messing up than they are.” You’re honest, you were doing everything to the exact standard, following the expectations you had been taught in class, yet to develop your own style.

“You’re nervous?” She seems surprised.

“I mean, wouldn’t you be, being brought into a professional sports team and being asked to help that team's captain while you're still a student? I mean I guess you’re usually level headed, penalty machine and all.” Thankfully you have half a brain to not throw in that the captain being attractive was definitely adding to your nerves.

“Oh believe me, I was nervous for those penalties but I’ve always thought nerves are good, they show you care. How much more school do you have?” She continues with the small talk.

“Just another semester. And then licensing tests, but just a semester of school.”

“That's exciting, do you know what you are going to do after that?” You make your way into the training room, holding the door open for Jessie to walk through.

“I don’t know, probably work at some secondary school to start, work my way up to bigger teams, I'll have to see what options I have. Go ahead and sit up on the table.” You point at the table at the end of the room as you move over to where the heat packs were stored. Jessie is sitting on the table, watching you when you turn around. You lift her foot, placing the heat pack on the table before placing her calf down on top of it.

“Is it still just sore or is it more sharp now?” Turning the conversation back to a more professional topic away from the small talk about yourself.

“Just sore, feels like a sore muscle.”

“You know, it's nice to actually meet you finally.” When you give her a confused look, she continues “I just mean your mom talks a lot about you.”

“Oh that's embarrassing.” You regret saying it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, you loved your mom, you know you shouldn’t be embarrassed about her talking about you.

“No, it's actually really sweet, I hope my parents talk about me even half as much as your mom talks about you. She’s so proud of you. You're her world.”

“Yeah, I know, it was always just the two of us. I know she misses me when I’m at school, I feel bad leaving her sometimes.” You look down, then realize youre probably giving way too much information to someone who likely doesn't care. “Sorry, I don't mean to talk about my personal stuff.”

“No problem, I don't mind, it's nice talking to you,” she quickly corrects her sentence “to someone closer to my age.”

You pull up a stool and sit with Jessie while she uses the heat pack. When the heat pack starts to cool off you slide over and start digging around for the TENS unit your mom recommended. When you’ve opened your third cabinet and had no luck finding it Jessie speaks up.

“They keep the TENS over there.” She points across the room to a different cabinet. You push up off the stool and move over to where she pointed, opening a drawer and finding it quickly.

“Sorry, I obviously don’t know where anything is, I didn't have time to really get acclimated this morning.” You feel embarrassed, already feeling inferior being the student but now being clueless and having to have Jessie tell you where everything is.

“That’s alright.” She reassures you. You move back and attach the pads onto her calf, turning the machine on low and handing her the controls and tell her to leave it on for 10 minutes. She messes with the controls of a second before setting down the remote and slightly leaning back, her arms propped behind her. Not knowing what to do with yourself you stand up and move over to the other tables where rolls of tape, bandaids, scissors, and various other tools used by the trainers are askew. You tidy up, finding where things belong through your own searching.

“So what do you do outside of school?” You had gotten used to the silence that Jessie’s voice breaks.

“Well school takes up most of my time, I wish I could travel more, I miss going to new places, seeing new things. But unfortunately school turns me into a pretty boring person.”

“Maybe you’ll get a travel experience this summer eh?” You turn at her, you’re assuming she’s implying going with your mom to Paris for the Olympics. “Your mom mentioned she wanted you to come with the team.”

“Yeah she said something about it to me, I mean I’d have to have her boss, Mark, pick me, I think there’s a few people they’re looking at for the trip. She thinks it’ll be a good experience for me for future jobs. I know it would look good on a resume and all but I also don’t want to get the opportunity just because my mom is here.”

“If it means anything you have my vote, the other people have been boring.” Jessie quickly says. “Sorry that’s not what I meant. I just meant, you’ve been the best one they’ve tried out. You care the most, at least it seems like you do. Plus you’re easy to talk to, the rest were too caught up on work, some of them stressed me out just being around them. And no one else was as observant. Your mom mentioned you were the one to see I was putting my weight off center, that’s why it’s important to have fresh eyes.”

“Yeah, I just happened to be watching, I get told I’m observant a lot.” You move your hands to take the TENS unit off of her gently peeling the pads from her skin. You move to grab her the foam ball across the room, tossing it in her direction. Jessie tried to catch it, it bounces off her hands, into her face and then onto the floor.

“Oh my god sorry, I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” You throw your hands in her direction apologizing. Moving quickly across the room you pick up the ball where it had rolled before gently placing it in her hand.

“Nope, that was my fault. There’s a reason I play a foot sport.” She laughs. Her laugh is beautiful, it fills the room momentarily. It makes you feel light inside.

Just as she moves to the floor to begin rolling out her calf, the training room door opens and in comes the loud crowd of her teammates. They move in all directions across the room, some moving to the ice bath, some moving to grab heat packs. Some move to take off tape, tossing it in the trash. It’s loud, conversations in every direction and you’re quickly swept away, your arm being pulled by your mom as she moves you over to where the ice cooler was. You’re instructed to make ice bags for the players who want them and help them wrap the ice wherever they want it. It’s an easy task but it takes you away from Jessie, no longer having the quiet privacy of the training room.

You wrap arms and legs and shoulders and backs and feet with ice. You can’t help but keep glancing at Jessie, she was still rolling her calf, chatting with her teammates as they walked by. On a couple instances you caught her looking back at you, she’d give a quick smile before looking away. You finish the last player requesting ice and when you look up Jessie is now sitting on the table with Mark, he’s taping her calf. A small part of you feels jealous, which is insanely stupid you tell yourself, she’s his player not yours, he’s the head trainer, you’re not even one, it should be him doing the work.

Only a few minutes later, Jessie hops off the table, giving you a wave and a shout of thanks before leaving the room. Only staff remained, the rest of the players on their way home for the day. You finish cleaning up, asking your Mom a couple of times where everything belongs, making sure nothing gets put away in the wrong place.

It feels like time has flown by in the eight hours that you have been at the training center, before you know it you’re headed out to the car with your mom, the same way you came in this morning.

“Mark wanted to extend the offer for you to spend the rest of the summer here, and for the Olympics. He’s going to give you a call tomorrow, but he gave me a heads up. It can probably count as some clinical work for school, he said he’ll just have to get the paperwork sorted. Something about high praises from a certain team captain.” Your mom nudges you with her shoulder. You look at her and you can tell she’s being suggestive with her wording.

“What?” Your cheeks begin to flush slightly. “You’re the one who kept sticking her with me.”

“I know, I also know you had a little crush when you were younger.” She teases. You just roll your eyes, not wanting to give yourself away.

“Oh my god mom that was years ago, she’s not my type.” It was true, your dating history was littered with blonde preppy girls with terrible personalities, quite literally the opposite of Jessie. Hoping that fact would help your argument that you didn’t still have a crush on Jessie and it seemed to as your mom dropped the topic.

“I know honey, I’m only kidding you. You can drive, I’m tired.” She places the keys in your hand. You don’t mind driving, you turn back looking at the facility, realizing you could be spending your summer everyday here didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming imagine #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt

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ghost-proofbaby · 2 months

Text

IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)

"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."

summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.

pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.

wc: 7.7k+

a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.

When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.

There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.

Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.

A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.

The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse.

Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.

But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.

God, you had bled for him.

Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless.

You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.

That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings.

Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival.

And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.

You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles.

Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.

His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery.

Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.

His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.

It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.

Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating.

The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own.

Hunger.

You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.

And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him.

A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy.

Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.

“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.

In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.

Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.

“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.”

“Gee, thanks, Stevie.”

Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him.

It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.

“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”

“Is it? Is it really?”

If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun.

Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“

“The whole dying thing, for starters.”

“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“

“Again, I died.”

“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl.

Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization.

It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.

By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.

The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.

Your safety.

Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault.

No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life.

He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal.

Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.

–

It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence.

Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town.

Come to me.

Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.

Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.

Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.

One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence.

Come to me.

The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems.

“Why are you here?”

You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him.

The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible.

But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment.

“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…”

I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you.

Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?

And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give.

“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.”

“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch.

The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own.

He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”

He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.

You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.

“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”

The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths.

The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness.

“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”

“I-”

He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep.

He flinches away. Something inside of you burns.

Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away.

“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”

You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs.

“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”

“They didn’t.”

“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”

“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.”

Healed.

Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.

“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down.

Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him.

“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.”

“So why are you still in pain?”

A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other.

Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.”

Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps.

“Me?”

He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…”

“Different?”

He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.

The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind.

He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night.

“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.”

The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger.

“What was the cost?”

He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing.

You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now.

All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.

His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey.

Blood shouldn’t be sweet.

He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow.

You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you.

“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance.

This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in.

The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration.

It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed.

“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”

“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?”

A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.

And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him.

You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees.

“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?”

He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.”

He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.”

You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance.

You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it.

“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them.

“Don’t,” he lowly warns.

“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?”

Another inch closer. His jaw clenches.

“Sweetheart, do not-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment.

The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger.

Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were.

But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s.

That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you.

He could almost taste you.

“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”

“I haven’t fed, period.”

With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable.

Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger.

“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone.

It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch.

His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.”

You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer.

“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone.

Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him.

He’s losing control. You’re losing control.

That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation.

A road to your hunger.

You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease?

Probably.

He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge.

His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.

His fangs.

Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising.

Come to me.

“Please.”

You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out.

“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.”

That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now.

You’re so close. So close.

“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer.

But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat.

“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”

“I trust you.”

You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.”

He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him.

His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance.

All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push.

“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-”

He breaks.

One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are.

You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you.

If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure.

Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment.

You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper.

He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you.

You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them.

He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly.

He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being.

You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you.

I need more.

It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his.

But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously.

Then take it.

Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt.

My pleasure.

His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue.

Sweet as honey.

His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words.

“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with.

“Yes, please.”

He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to.

And you most certainly did not want to.

Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control.

“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.”

Yes.

His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.”

The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously.

It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this.

“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.”

Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy.

He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters.

Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts.

His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure.

You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.”

Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.

Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical.

He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him.

The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed.

It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.

Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine.

His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood.

Let me touch you. Please.

You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin.

“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?”

“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.”

You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry.

And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you.

One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity.

You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance.

He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you.

The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself.

“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”

“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.”

His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares.

He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his.

His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth.

You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him.

And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure.

Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.”

Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it.

That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed.

When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you.

Eddie.

Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire.

The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter.

As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours.

“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”

The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done.

He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.”

“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.”

“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.”

Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough.

The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough.

Of course, lover.

That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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#ghost's stories #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #kas!eddie munson #kas!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #reader essentially became soul bound to him womp womp #don't drink a vampire's blood kids #i really didn't edit that intensely i spent two hours fucking with photoshop #if it's bad it's bad #finally dipping my toes into kas!eddie tho wahoo #vampire!eddie munson #someone requested eddie with this song forever ago but i lost the ask #eddie reading dracula to figure out if he's become a vampire is actually so fucking funny to me

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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okay hear me out. genshin college bfs nsfw headcanons. how likely they are to just tease you during a lecture or straight up hook up in the toilet stalls. if they'd h up w their roomies still in the dorms and so on.

College AUs are a lot of fun to write, I've written them for several of my OTPs.

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Xiao, Kaveh, Al-Haitham, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, college au, dorm rooms, locker room sex, classroom sex, shower sex, library sex, keeping quiet, fingering, cunnilingus, hooking up, sneaking around, biting

A/N: I kinda wanna write more modern au things for a lot of the fandoms that I'm in so if you have any cute ones send them in.

College!Kaeya is the very popular guy among pretty much everyone but particularly among the girls. He's very easy to talk to so it's no wonder but you're the only girl he has an eye out for. He always walks with one arm around your shoulders to send the message that both of you are taken. He's very flirty and teases you a lot during class, even going as so far as to finger you and dare you to stay quiet for the entire lecture.

College!Diluc is the golden boy of the school who many look up to. He's a little quiet sometimes but everyone knows he's a hard worker. What he works the hardest at however is making you moan when he sneaks you into his dorm after class. He keeps his grades up for sure, as do you, but it helps to get rid of the pressure and illusion of being perfect all the time by just letting go and indulging in each other's deepest desires.

College!Itto is the jock with the heart of gold who would do anything for you. He's also the kind of boyfriend who always brags to others about what an amazing girlfriend you are to the point where his friends tease him about it. He doesn't mind that, he's happy that they see he makes you happy. His favorite time to have sex is after practice when you join him in the shower, getting all that sweat off him before he presses you against his locker and hammers his cock into you, not caring if anyone could walk in and see.

College!Childe is very competitive when it comes to many things including your attention. When its on someone else he will casually walk up to you and pull you in for a kiss, just because he can, and because you melt into it so easily. He's the kind of guy who will push you against the wall in the hallway and make out with you until he gets a boner and you get wet, after which he will take you to his or your room to finish the job and keep your panties afterwards.

College!Xiao doesn't talk to many people except for you. You're a good study buddy but sometimes he can't keep his hands all to himself, or his lips, pushing you against the door and biting your neck, your breasts, going down to his knees to eat you out, all the while insisting that you repeat today's lesson for him, making sure you memorized it well. He does the same to you when he's balls deep inside of you, thrusting away while babbling about the latest thing he's learned in class.

College!Kaveh really likes party hook-ups with you. The thrill of seeing you across the room and chatting you up, working his magic on you until he's able to push you into an empty closed and lift you up to make you roll your hips on his cock. He makes you forget everything but him, everything outside of this small, cramped space and the feeling of his warm, hard cock entering you over and over.

College!Al-Haitham doesn't really like parties but he goes because his roommate goes. He gets ditched pretty quickly which then leads him to finding you and catching up with what's been going on. He hasn't spoken to you a lot, he knows, but he plans to make it up to you soon. Sooner then you expect as you're lead back to his dorm where he throws you on the bed and spends the entire night making love to you, even after he hears the door to the other room slam shut.

College!Zhongli is pretty famous as the mature and cool, no nonsense kind of guy. He's not easy to approach, other then by you. He likes to stay in after class because it's the best way for him to go over the materials in peace. Not when you stay with him however, then all he can think about, all he can do is bend you over the nearest desk, take you panties down and start rutting his big cock into the pussy that's been on his mind since you sat down next to him.

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ilythena · 2 months

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 || 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM the day summer ended, and best friends move away.

Fem!reader, horribly written angst but like it's barely angst, ends fluffy cause I couldn't do it guys I am not the strongest soldier!, childhood friends to lovers, Quinn is the best comforter ever, idk how to explain it but you two are so so so so in love!!!!!!

♪ SATURN - SZA

"You don't understand, l'm just so nervous she won't fit in with the other kids."

Your mother leans over the kitchen counter with the phone tucked in between her shoulder and her ear, talking to her sister. Setting her keys down with a sigh, she finally sits down—nerves racking through her entire body.

"She'll be fine, y/n's never been the type of girl to be shy!" Your aunt comforts, and she tosses her head back with a groan.

You're walking down the hallways of a brand new kindergarten, taking small looks around the place to stare at the yellow walls and the colorful designs on classroom doors.

The lady you're currently walking hand in hand with slows down at a door with clouds on it and opens it slowly, ushering you inside quietly in order to not drag the attention of all the children to you.

"Okay y/n" she coos "this is your class, your teacher is over there, her name is Mrs. Penny and she's super nice." She whispers and points to a lady with ginger hair who’s currently attending to a young boy who's coloring.

"I have to go honey, make yourself comfortable!" As the lady leaves, the teacher turns her head and sees you standing there awkwardly, fiddling with your oversized backpack straps.

"Oh! Come here honey! Are you the new student?" You nod as you walk over and sit in the seat next to her. "What's your name?" "Y/n!" You shout, a little too loudly as everyone looks at you.

"Oh, inside voice sweetheart." She giggles and you shy away with a smile "nice to meet you..." "it's nice to meet you, this is Jack. We're discussing shapes right now with this worksheet, do you wanna try and do it with him?"

The boy looks at you with a small smile and you nod in response to her question. She leaves you two alone and you're at the table with him.

"y/n, Is this one a square?" "It's a circle.." "oh."

"Jack, do you remember how we met?" "Honestly, nah."

You plop down onto Jack's bed with a laugh, and take out your folder that was given to everyone in your class earlier today. "We're picking classes tomorrow, right?" He says as he enters the room after you, and a yep with a pop of the p comes out from your mouth.

"What classes are you gonna pick? I wanted to do cooking, oh! And maybe try out the tennis team?" You say, taking out the sheet of electives and a pen so you could circle which ones you would like "I don't know... I'll choose whatever you choose." He shrugs and throws his bag down onto the floor, sitting on the other side of the bed.

"Well, you know the girl who lives across from me, right? She said that we should do something that isn't too hard, since we're gonna be freshman next year." You circle a few classes that sound simple, and when you show the paper to Jack, he nods in agreement.

"Just stick by me! We'll do it together so that way it'll be easier." You say with a smile, and Jack can feel all the air leave his lungs as you move your hair out of your face. You two have been friends for years now, sticking by each other in basically everything.

Years ago when you first moved into the neighborhood, Your mother was pleasantly surprised when you had came home from school that evening, going on and on about how you had made a new friend on your first day. Soon you and Jack found out that you two didn't live that far away from each other, and your mothers had scheduled a play date for the two of you immediately.

Your family quickly became close with Jack's, and it was like you became their sister in the following years. Ellen and Jim weren't even surprised to see you randomly in their house anymore.

Though, behind closed doors when you were in the comfort of your own home, Luke and especially Quinn loved to tease Jack about his growing crush on you. Jack claims went from ‘it isn’t true!’ to ‘it’ll pass soon! It’s just a little crush!’, but as the days went on and the more he was around you, it was like he could never get enough of you.

At the beginning of the year, you dyed your hair and did a different style that you absolutely fucked up, and even then Jack still thought you were pretty. You've always been pretty to him, but now as your hair grew out and your features started to mature, you were beginning to become seriously beautiful.

Staring, he began to get a little nervous at the sight of you. The sunset from his window enhancing your features to him and it's like time stopped.

"Jack? I think your mom is calling us downstairs for something" you say, and it snaps him out of his trance. "Oh, sure, um, let's go." He says as he suddenly bolts through the door and leaves you confused as you follow him down the steps.

"Can you believe this is it?" You breathe out as the two of you sit on the dock at his lake house, watching the sun go down side by side while everyone else is still inside the house.

“...no." He hesitates, subtly feeling the wood beneath his fingers—trying to ground himself as he steals a glance at you.

Silence is the only thing with you two. Nothing more than the sound of the water moving and distant chatter of both your family and Jack's in the distance, assembling dinner together.

“I can still vividly remember me and you picking out our classes for high school, and now I’m getting ready to go off to college. It all happened so fast.” You say, your breathing slowing down and tapping your fingers against the dock.

"I'm so proud of you, Jack. Getting into the NHL is fucking crazy." You softly say, turning your head to look at him and he nervously keens into himself at your praise.

"Thanks. You did really well too, getting into Harvard is really hard." He mumbles and you giggle. "Yeah… Well, let's get inside and enjoy the rest of the day, right? It's my last day here before I go away." You gently bring yourself up and reach a hand down to him to help him up as well.

The two of you walk inside and you're immediately wrapped up in a conversation with your mom and Ellen, in which Jack stares at the two of you when he plops down onto the couch with a heavy sigh and Quinn can feel the sadness radiating off of him.

"Why is he so sad?" Luke whispers to Quinn, and he rolls his eyes at his younger brother's lack of awareness. "He's upset because y/n is leaving tomorrow." He replies and walks over to the couch Jack is sitting on so he can take the seat next to him.

"Y'know, you look absolutely miserable." Quinn jokes and Jack cracks a small smile but it fades just as quickly as it came. Quinn sighs and nudges his brother, Jack finally looks at him.

"If you're that sad about it, why not tell her how you feel? It seems like everyone knows you two love each other except y'all" he says and Jack throws his head back with a groan.

"Not that easy. If I tell her and she doesn't like me back then what? We pretend nothing happens and I'm just hopelessly in love with her?" "You'd be hopelessly in love whether you tell her and she doesn't like you back or you never tell her at all." Quinn replies and Jack huffs and goes up to his room.

You can see him storm upstairs in the corner of your eye and look at Quinn. "What's up with him?" You mouth and the only thing you can make out is "no idea."

Before he knew it, the night had passed and faded into the morning. And Jack really thought he was prepared for everything, but he quickly realized he wasn't when he saw you packing your stuff into the trunk of your car.

The sun isn't even out yet and you're already about to leave him all alone. He runs out with his shirt about to fall off his shoulders and his hair all messy. You'd laugh at his disheveled state if you weren't about to cry.

He breathes out heavily when you grab him tightly in a hug, Tears staining his shirt as you begin to rock him back and forth. "I'm gonna miss you so much, J." Your voice breaks and Jack's heart can't take anymore as he embraces you.

"Not more than I'm gonna miss you." He mumbles and tucks his head into your neck as your mom packs your final suitcase into the car.

"Y/n, honey, I know it's hard but we have to go." Your mother speaks softly, knowing if she was any louder you'd burst into tears. You slowly let go of Jack and give Luke and Quinn hugs as well before going right back to Jack.

"Promise to stay in touch, okay?" He whispers into the air, heart heavy when you nod a yes to his statement. You pull away for a final time before getting into the passenger side of the car and stare at all the Hughes brothers as your mom begins to pull out the driveway.

They wave goodbye sadly and watch as you drive away, Jack immediately running back to his room and sobbing when he reaches it.

Unbeknownst to him, Quinn was hot on his tail and barely stopped the door from slamming as he watched his younger brother cry uncontrollably into his pillow.

"Jack, it's gonna be okay-" "it's over! I lost my chance because I was too scared to say anything!" Jack wailed, "it's never over. Y/N cares about you too much to just let distance ruin the two of you like that. You both will find your way back to each other one day, just not today." Quinn states with a soothing hand against Jack's back as he leans into his older brother.

Eventually, their parents find the two boys together and join them with comforting Jack, watching as the sun finally rises.

It's been two years since you've left for college, and though you've kept in touch well with the Hughes family, it was obvious something was missing when you spoke to Jack.

Your mother convinced you to come home for the winter, and here you were again seeing everyone for the first time since you've been gone.

Ellen and Jim were over the moon to see you again, questioning you about your studies and how you're doing with being so far away.

Jack spots you talking to his parents and awkwardly smiles at you.

"So... how've you been?" "Good. Made some new friends, it's been pretty good." It's as if you two never knew each other and are just meeting for the first time ever. As everyone seems to go inside because it's too cold you two stay there looking at each other.

"Jack, what happened to us? Why is it so different all of a sudden? Did I do something?" You whisper and Jack can feel his nerves spike up

"No! You didn't do anything! It's just... I don't know. It's been tough for me. NHL is a real kick in the ass." He mumbles and you tilt your head at him.

"I know that's not the real reason, but I won't press you." You say as you reach out to gently hug him, and he freezes for a moment before hugging you back with a stable grip.

He’s silent as you hug him. Quietly enjoying your embrace before it’s coldly ripped away from him when you let him go and walk into the house without another word.

He slowly enters as well after a few minutes have gone by, and he’s immediately stopped by Luke and Quinn, who both have confused looks on their faces.

“Dude, what the hell was that?” “What was what?” “That.” Luke repeats, and Jack raises an eyebrow at the sudden questioning.

“You’ve been talking about how much you’ve missed y/n for the past two years, and now that she’s here you’re being all quiet and acting like you never even knew her? What was that?” Sighing at the explanation he was given, he moves the group of three into a more secluded corner near the door so nobody could hear their conversation.

“I don’t know! It’s just— I can’t explain it!” He whisper shouts. “I haven’t seen her in so long, and it’s like when she looks at me I just can’t move!”

“Well get it together! I was talking to her the other day and she was upset because she thought you didn’t like being around her anymore! You’re really going to blow any chance you have if you don’t fix your act!” Quinn whispers back, and Jack rolls his eyes at both of them.

“Listen, either you fix whatever you need to fix or we’ll fix it for you.” “Wha—“ Luke drags Quinn away from the corner and they join the wave of people in the kitchen, leaving Jack to stand there frustrated.

He finally joins everyone else and stands there awkwardly, watching you talk to his mother and throw your head back with a laugh.

After a while, Jack begins to blend in with the crowd. Sitting on the couch talking with his father, he’s interrupted by his mother and his two brothers behind her.

“Jack, do you mind taking y/n upstairs to the attic to show her where the old photos of everyone are? I asked Quinn and Luke but they said they didn’t remember where they were.” Jack’s eyes immediately dart to Quinn’s and he shoots him a wink with a smile a little too big for Jack’s liking.

“…sure” he mumbles and glances at you to follow him upstairs. You two silently walk up the steps and everything is the same as you remembered it before you had left.

Finally making it up at the attic, Jack doesn’t waste any time taking down the box and opening it to show you. Your vision is immediately captured by the one of you two as kids taking pictures together for the class yearbook.

“This one is cute.” You whisper and Jack nods. You flip through the book and see baby Quinn in a huge oversized sweater and you mentally take a note to tease Quinn for it.

Gasping at a picture that Jack is holding of himself, you gently snatch it away from him and look at the picture of him, luke, and Quinn fighting. “This one is cuter! Look at you all angry” he blushes in embarrassment at the picture.

“Well, look at this one of you in middle school. Your bangs look absolutely horrid!” He says and pulls out a framed photo of you two back in 8th grade, and you lean over to snatch it from him but he moves away too fast which causes you to topple over him with a laugh

“We’re not talking about me right now! Look at this photo of you holding luke! You look creeped out” “I did think he was pretty creepy as a newborn to be honest” “that’s no way to talk about your brother” you two laugh and move the photos around to discuss more

As time goes by and you suddenly reach the bottom of the box, it’s a photo of you and Jack cuddled together on the couch together with the light from the television shining on your faces. You hold it silently and Jack leans over your shoulder to look at it also.

“I’m sorry for making it weird earlier…” he says, and you hum while you gently put the photo down “know you didn’t mean to, it’s just been a while.”

...the real reason is because I missed you, y/n." He finally says and you turn your head to look at him. "I miss you so much I haven't been able to breathe properly whenever I think about you. And every day I regret not telling you that I actually really fucking like you. Like, a lot." He chuckles at the end and you're left looking up at him with doe eyes, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips.

You barely register his lips pressed against yours until there's no more air left between you two, hands threading into his hair as he pulls you closer in the dusty attic.

"Jack, l've been waiting so long for that. I wouldn't have waited so long if I had known..." you whisper against him and he presses a gentle kiss onto your nose.

“We don’t have to wait any longer. Will you be my girlfriend, y/n?” He asks and you don’t hesitate to nod your head and pull him into another kiss.

"Quinn always told me that you'd come back to me one day." He jokes as you two pull away, foreheads pressed against each other with your hand playing with the hair on the back of his neck

"And I was right! Give me my credit!" He yells from the opening of the attic, startling you two and you can see his head peeking from the entrance

“Get out!” Jack screams and he laughs as he steps down.

“I hope you know that our mom and y/n’s mom were betting on you two getting together tonight! Better tell your mom to pay up, y/n!”

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agaypanic · 2 months

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Regina's Barbie Part 2

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Summary: After giving you a makeover, Regina takes you to a party. She hates the attention you’re getting and decides to make it clear that you’re not available.

A/N: sorry for not posting in a million years (4 days). my first regina fic got a lot of love and some people wanted a part 2, so here it is!

***

You had been to a few high school parties in your life, but you had never been to one thrown by one of the most popular kids in school. So you weren’t too surprised to see everyone throwing you looks when you walked in, especially when Regina George was clinging to your arm to make sure you didn’t stray too far from her. You may have been dressed in the girl’s clothes with stellar makeup, but everyone could tell you were an outsider.

“Relax,” Regina whispered in your ear, and you had to keep yourself from shuddering at the chill that ran down your spine.

She pulled you over to a counter that was filled with different drinks, figuring you wouldn’t be able to stand this party sober any longer. You didn’t ask Regina what she had put in the cup she handed to you; you were too busy gulping the strong liquid down.

“Oh my god, I’ll be right back,” Regina said, seemingly distracted as she looked across the room in disgust. “I think Gretchen’s trying to hook up with Jason, that skeez!”

Then you were on your own. It pissed you off a bit, Regina dragging you to this party just to leave you alone. But you decided to brush it off, pouring yourself another drink and gravitating towards a wall. Soon enough, she’d be back for you, and you could get through this night.

“Hey there!” Some guy appeared next to you, making you flinch in surprise. You recognized him from hallways and assemblies but didn’t know his name. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new or something?”

“Nope.” You laugh, putting the cup to your lips as you thought of something else to say. “I usually don’t have time for parties, but a friend wanted me to come.”

“Well, whoever your friend is, I’ll have to thank them.” Anyone else in your position might have giggled at the attention this objectively attractive guy was giving you. But in all honesty, you were too busy wondering when Regina was coming back to you. “Wanna dance, hottie?”

“No thanks.” You respond, eyes darting to the other side of the room, where Regina seemed to be reprimanding and chasing away the boy that Gretchen had been talking to. You wondered if she’d turn around to face you if you stared at her hard enough. “I’m kind of with someone here.” It wasn’t entirely true, at least not in the way he might’ve taken it. But you were trying your best to get this stranger to back off.

“Did this someone give you that kiss mark?” You flinched when he touched your cheek, smudging the lip print that Regina had planted on you just an hour or so before. It made you mad for some reason, and not just because this man touched your face without asking. “I bet I can give you a better one.”

“Oh my god, get away from her, Travis!” A venomous voice sounded, and you were grateful to see Regina standing next to you, giving Travis a sneer that almost made her perfect face seem not so perfect. “Can’t you see she wants nothing to do with you?”

Travis took a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. Then he squinted, eyes darting between your face and Regina’s lips before he let out a small chuckle.

“Lemme guess…” He said, turning back to you while pointing at the blonde. “Is this who you’re with?”

Regina answered before you could even think of a response.

“Yeah, she is. So go find someone else to try to blow you; she’s taken.”

With that, Travis left, cheeks reddened with slight embarrassment and drunkenness. You were still stuck on Regina’s last sentence when she grabbed your chin, turning your head to face her. She inspected your cheek, seemingly disappointed at the state her once pristine kiss mark was now in.

“You’d think that he’d see this and take a hint.” She muttered, not letting go of your face.

“And what hint would he be getting from it?” You asked, feeling shy. Even more so when Regina’s eyes started staring into yours. “Asking, you know, just out of curiosity.”

“Are you serious?” She asked, raising a brow. You gulped down the rest of your drink so you wouldn’t have to respond. But even when you were done, and your cup was thrown into a nearby trash can, Regina seemed to still be waiting for a response.

“Just a bit…” You replied.

Regina scoffed, stepping closer to you. If that was even possible. You gulped at the extremely close proximity, trying to not look down at her lips.

“Guess I have to make it clear to everyone that you’re mine.”

Regina used both hands to cup your face and pull you towards her. You made a slight noise of surprise as she pressed her lips to yours, but you were quick to return the kiss after the initial shock wore off. People must have been watching Regina George kissing some girl they’d probably never seen before. But for a moment, it felt like only you and Regina were in this hot and crowded room.

When she pulled back, Regina smirked at your stunned expression, clearly still reeling from the kiss.

“Everyone, including you.” She said, kissing you once more before grabbing your hand and pulling you into the living room to show you off some more.

***

Regina George Taglist: @wedfan2

#agaypanic #regina george x reader #regina george #rachel mcadams x reader #rachel mcadams #renee rapp x reader #renee rapp #mean girls #mean girls x reader

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a-simple-imagine · 2 months

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Perfectly Pathetic Pt.2

synopsis: you try to fix things with cady while maintaining your friendship with the plastics

pairing: regina george x fem!reader, elements of cady heron x fem!reader

words: 6.6k (6666 to be exact)

A/N - it’s here at long last besties!! get it while it’s hot because i might delete later idk how i feel about it

WARNINGS - swearing, toxic relationships and general toxicity, d-slur, and bullying

PREV //

come Sunday, you wake up with a throbbing head and zero energy left in your body but memories sit crystal clear. you remember Regina trying to come onto you. her scaring Cady away. Gretchen rubbing your back as you listen to her whine about Jason for the millionth time. weird night. you check your phone but don't bother to reply to anyone except Karen who wouldn't stop sending you explicit details about some reality show she was binging. but alas the weekend was over and you're forced to brave the embarrassment of going back to school after a party. happens every time. people do dumb shit and are forced to face it on Monday.

the first person you come across is none other than the red-headed new girl herself. you have got to imagine she is mad at you after what happened; the lies Regina told. it was not your fault but you should probably try and make peace.

"Hey! New girl," yelled down the hallway, you walk a little faster in order to catch up. you watch her glance around a little confused as you approach.

"Oh," her expression seems to neutralise as she realises it's you. "hi."

"did you have a good Sunday?"

"it was alright," the fact she was speaking to you was a good sign. "I spent it with my mom."

"cute," you flash a smile. Cady was clutching her books pretty tightly. "I thought we should maybe talk about Saturday."

"We don't have to to."

"but I want to," you insist. "please?"

"Regina already told me,"

"Regina is a liar," you blurt out. hopefully, that wouldn't get back to her. "I don't know what she said exactly but it's not true," she looks at you with curious eyes. "I wasn't stringing you along or anything,"

"Sure,"

"I like you, Cady. you're... different," you express. "I wanna be your friend. and I was really happy when you showed up at the party,"

"Really?"

"mhmm," you hum, nodding to prove your point. "cross my heart." you mime the action of drawing a cross across your chest. you're not sure they're gonna forgive you but the bell for homeroom would ring at any moment so time was running out.

"Okay," replied after a moment. a small smile that's quick to fade.

"do you want to finish working on our assignment later?" you ask.

"Sure," they shrug. "meet you out front?"

you're not entirely convinced you're forgiven but you'll take what you can get. you're about to respond when your eyes spot Gretchen amongst the crowd. you lock eyes for a second before she bolts in the opposite direction. with a heavy sigh, you charge after her.

"Gretchen." yelled down the hallway causing a few heads to turn. people naturally darted out of your way but you almost smashed into a few people. "Gretchen," is she getting quicker? "will you just stop?" the answer was apparently no because she just kept going until you manage to grab her arm forcing her to stop. "what the fuck?"

"oh hey, I didn't see you back there." she lies, offering a less-than-genuine smile.

"I was literally yelling your name?" your brow furrowed. you could almost see the gears turning in her head trying to come up with some kind of excuse.

"Sorry, I'm tired- mustn't have heard you." was that the best she could do? you just roll your eyes.

"Can you not tell Regina I was talking to Cady."

"Why?" she asks despite already knowing the answer.

"Please, Gretchen? it's really not a big deal, okay so let's just keep it between us."

"I said you should stay away from her and you ignored me."

"I know and you were probably right but," you shrug. "it's too late and besides, I have to do a presentation with her, that's why we were talking. you can even ask Karen."

"I won't tell anyone." that was a lie. She won't tell anyone except Regina obviously. always trying to be in her good graces.

"if you promise not to tell, I'll... tell Jason something bad about Taylor? like she has crabs or something?"

her eyes light up at the prospect. "really?"

you nod. Taylor had never liked you so you weren't exactly on the best of terms and if making up some rumour about her gets Gretchen off your back then great. "but you can't tell Regina, deal?"

"deal," Gretchen smiles brightly. thank fuck for that. you start walking together now. "so what happened at the party?"

"don't you already know?" you tease. "thought that pretty little head of yours knew everything."

"I'm working on it."

you shrug. she'd probably find out eventually. "nothing really. Regina told Cady some stuff about me."

"that you don't like her and are only pretending to be her friend?"

"so you did already know,"

"I don't know what you see in Cady."

"I don't know." she just wasn't like anyone else. a new avenue to discover. most of these people you've known for years. the bell rings out and suddenly you remember you were supposed to drop off a take-home quiz by homeroom today. you had actually done it but forgot it was in your locker. "oh shit,"

"What?"

"I just forgot to hand something in i'll see you later," with a quick wave goodbye, you rush off back the way you've come. it wasn't like you were bad in school or anything. just sometimes you'd forget to bring in homework. one... or four late quizzes later and suddenly Ms. Norbury is giving you extra work to make up for it. it's not like you have a life or anything. As you grab the paper from your locker, Karen Shetty emerges.

"Morning," sang dazzlingly as she shoved your locker door closed.

"good morning," you smile softly, a glance over her outfit. "you're particularly chirpy today and look great,"

a tiny theatrical gasp, she puts a playful hand over her chest. "thank you,"

"where did you get the cardigan?"

"thrifted it,"

"oooh, I love that," you say. "also it goes so well with that super cute bracelet you're wearing,"

"Aw thanks, my friend made it."

"that's so cute, she must be a really great friend," you tease.

"she is," Karen nods. "where are you headed?"

"I gotta drop this off to Ms.Norbury or I'll fail math,"

"Can I come?"

it wasn't exactly an exciting trip so you don't know why she would want to? plus you were late for homeroom now. "I guess?"

"did you have fun at the party?" Karen inquiries as you begin towards Ms Norbury's homeroom class.

"it was alright,"

"I heard you got into a fight with Regina,"

"hardly a fight," you sigh. it was gonna be a very long day. "it's fine. you know how she can be,"

"was it over Cady?"

"Why does everyone suddenly care about Cady?" you stress. "it really doesn't matter."

a shrug. "I heard from Gretchen that Connor is grounded now because he didn't tell his parents about the party and they found out because somebody was sick in like a vase or something,"

"ew," you giggle, scrunching up your nose in disgust. "like they just found cold vomit in a vase?"

"mhmm," Karen nods eagerly. you make a fake gagging action as you knock on the open door. why is it always so awkward to walk into an already full classroom? ms. Norbury invited you further inside and you can't help but look at the people staring at you.

"so you do know how to hand things in on time," you resist the urge to roll your eyes. "great. now if you can just do that all the time."

"I make no promises," you answer, placing your homework down on her desk. when your eyes meet Cady's she waves a little. you flash a smile.

"come see me after school and I'll let you know how you did and if I need anything else from you,"

"Okay," you sigh. wasn't your first extra credit quiz. nor your last probably. you leave the classroom quickly, grabbing Karen's hand. she'd been waiting at the door.

"lots of people in there,"

"yeah because we're supposed to be in homeroom," you advise her.

"I didn't hear the bell,"

oh, Karen. "just come on."

it was a rather lifeless day thank god. you were grateful for the peace. and ms. Norbury hadn't given you any more work. you still had your tutor sessions but they never bothered you too much. now you're sitting staring at your laptop pretending you're doing research. Cady is scribbling in her notebook. Once again you're bored. and you can't help but watch Cady and wonder if she really has forgiven you. sure you were together right now but only because of this stupid presentation. you sit up a little straighter, taking a sip from your water bottle. "are you mad at me?"

it's sudden and she seems perplexed as she glances up at you. "huh?"

"I don't want you to be mad at me"

"I'm not mad," she urges, going back to her little scribbling. "you said Regina was lying, I believe you."

"just like that?" it seemed too easy.

"just like that,"

"how do you know I'm not lying about Regina lying though?"

"I don't." a shrug, she looks at you. "I'm just trusting you so can we please get back on track." you're not sure you would forgive someone as easily as this. it seemed naïve. or maybe she was just a better person than you. either way, this was what you wanted so...

"This is so boring," you whine loudly, pushing your laptop away so you can dramatically collapse against the table.

"if you actually help instead of complaining, we'd get it done quicker."

"Cady," you sigh loudly. "let's not, I'm just here to be pretty, okay? I shouldn't be forced to do homework too."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you sit up properly once more. "ask away."

"Why do you hang out with Regina?" the question catches you a little off guard. why did she wanna know that?

"What does that have to do with the book?" you counter, a playful raise of your brow. "if you stayed on topic, we'd get it done quicker."

"I'm serious."

you shrug a little. "why wouldn't I? She's like one of my best friends."

"why though? I've seen the way she treats you,"

"you just don't get Regina," very few people did. sure she was kinda mean and pushy, you'd never deny that but the rest of the school didn't get to see her other side. which was also kinda mean but a tad softer. the blonde was fierce. if someone fucked with you, or Karen, or even Gretchen, she'd go to war. you've watched her destroy girls just to prop Gretchen up to Jason. maul boys for making fun of Karen. you only got away with half the shit you did because you were friends with Regina. maybe she kept you around because you showered her with love and attention but she, in her own way, gave it right back. "she can be a lot but she's really cool."

"she's horrible to literally everyone."

"yeah but that's like kinda funny," Cady gives you a look suggesting she doesn't agree which was fair but she didn't exactly pick the nicest people to be friends with. Damian was funny in class and you liked to tell him gossip that Gretchen told you. you never really spoke to Janis too much but you've seen her around. heard what she says about you. She makes jokes right to your face. "don't act like Janis doesn't do the exact same thing. why do you hang out with her?"

"That's different,"

"is it?" you challenge. "or is Regina just popular?" Cady seems to not have an answer because she goes back to the book. "she's my friend and I like her. simple as."

"I'm sorry for asking,"

"Don't worry about it," you weren't particularly angry. you knew how people viewed Regina. a mixture of high admiration and fear. "So did you enjoy your first party?"

"yeah. not exactly what I was expecting,"

"they're not all like that," you urge. "sometimes they're fun. sometimes you wanna stab yourself in the eye to get out of it."

"did you have fun?"

"fun is not the word I would use but it was an experience," After Cady left you kind of just sulked with Gretchen until Karen found you and insisted you had to dance together. you spent the rest of the night with her. "I'm happy you came. I wish Regina hadn't messed everything up."

"sorry I left."

"you don't have to apologise." you smile. "we're hanging out now even if you're making me do homework. and there's always next time."

"I'm not making you do homework," Cady argues. you just smile. shuffling along the bench so you're right beside her. She has the book open in front of her and a notebook full of scribbles. you repeatedly tap the notebook with your finger.

"Are these not notes for our project? is that not homework?"

"yeah but these are my notes," she expresses, snatching up her notebook to place on the side away from you. As your eyes meet, you can almost pinpoint the exact moment she gets flustered. a dusting of pink gracing her cheeks. "you're just fucking about."

a dramatic gasp before a smile takes over. "I would never."

Cady smiles and before you have time to react she is leaning in to connect your lips in the softest of embraces. it reminds you of the first time Regina kissed you. only it never had the chance to become anything more before you pull back.

"Sorry- I didn't. I don't know why I did that." that dusting of pink is now a deep shade of red. panic in her voice. eyes firmly on her homework. you're unsure of what to say exactly. you liked Cady. maybe even the same way she apparently liked you. but you just weren't sure yet.

"It's alright, don't worry about it," you express. "uh... should we get back to the book?"

you weren't mad or upset with Cady. her kissing you had just left you feeling... weird? so even as you parted ways and you got texts later in the evening, you couldn't bring yourself to reply. you just needed some time to think.

Lunchtime is weird. Everyone is quiet. Painfully quiet. Karen and Gretchen are just eating their lunch. Regina is staring at the label of her yoghurt. you're sat there anxiously like a child bursting with energy. this was so unlike them. "can someone just talk already," you blurt out. a little startled, everyone looks at you. "sorry. just nobody is talking and it's freaking me out. normally Gretchen never shuts up."

"why are you even here?" Regina asks, twisting the dessert in her hand. you wish she'd just eat it instead of inspecting it.

"why wouldn't I be?"

"shouldn't you be over there with the pyro-dyke and her band of freaks." her head nods in the direction she means but her eyes never leave that stupid label. the nickname referred to Janis and Band of Freaks must mean Cady and Damian.

a sigh. "you're being ridiculous,"

"I'm being what?" Regina asked firmly. her yoghurt placed down slowly as her eyes zone in on you. sharp and daring. Karen gently nudges your leg with hers but you're not sure if it was an accident or a warning. you glance at her and then at Gretchen who is keeping her eyes firmly on her food.

"nothing. sorry," you say softly.

"stand up," voice low but commanding. you can't tell if she's serious so you remain seated. watching her. "stand up. now." she was louder now. attracting attention. putting on a show as various people looked to see what the commotion was. "you wanna run around with freaks and lesbos, then go."

"Are you-"

"go." you swallow hard. willing yourself not to crumble under the pressure of everyone's gaze. you could argue back but you know better than to challenge her when she's this pissed off. so you just push up, grab your tray and leave the table. you lock eyes with Janis along the way who is next to Cady. you can't join them like Regina so angrily implied, it'd just make things worse for them and yourself.

your last few classes of the day are spent wondering what you've done to piss off Regina today. you've hardly even seen her. maybe Gretchen told her about the hallway yesterday? She promised not to plus this seemed like a massive overreaction. you're at your locker, grabbing your stuff when Gretchen approaches. "Regina said if you can behave yourself you're allowed to come shopping with us,"

"hello to you too Gretchen," you slam the metal door shut. "no thank you.."

"Seriously?"

"she basically banished me from the cafeteria today, why would I wanna go anywhere with her?" you ask but it was mostly rhetorical as you start down the hall.

"you know she was only joking," the brunette trails after you.

"was she? felt pretty real to me,"

"that's just her humour," Gretchen assures you. "you have to come. Regina will be upset,"

"Regina doesn't have emotions," you fire back, pushing through the double doors, you almost collide with another person. "Jesus, watch out."

didn't take long to realise who it was. "it's Karen actually,"

"I know your name, baby" you pat her shoulder. "why are you right outside the door?"

"waiting for you," she takes your hand. "we're going shopping."

"I don't wanna do that," you express but Karen is already leading you towards Regina's jeep. "Karen, let go" you groan but put up little resistance. the blonde is leaning against the side eyes on you as you're being dragged across the front lawn.

"you found her then," the blonde comments, pushing away from the metal of her jeep. "thought we'd have to start putting up lost dog posters or something."

"why am I even here?"

"Isn't it obvious- get in the car." Regina climbs in and everyone else does the same. "we need someone to carry the bags."

why were you here? why had you given in so easily? You didn't even want to go shopping and now you're staring at yourself in the wall-length mirror of a dressing room, trying on outfits. with a heavy sigh, you step through the curtain

"what do you think?"

"you look great," declares Gretchen.

"beautiful," an eager Karen. She had picked it out.

Regina turns from the large mirror at the end of the space where she was inspecting the dress she was trying on to you. "ew." is all she says before turning back.

"yeah, I never liked it," Gretchen remarks quickly.

"try this," Karen shoves a hanger in your hand before pushing you back towards the dressing room. you stare at your reflection once more. you didn't think it looked too bad but maybe Regina was right. it wasn't exactly your style but that's because Karen picked it. it was more you than most of the outfits she tried to get you to wear... it did sit a little weirdly. you can hear Regina talking to the girls, sending them each on an errand. and then it's silent. you begin to undress when the blonde calls your name. you stop what you're doing. She says it again and you walk out.

"what's up?" you question cautiously. you weren't about to let your guard down around her.

"what do you think of this dress?" the blonde spins to face you. hands on her hips. your brow furrows. why did she want your opinion? your eyes drift. taking in Regina. notice every curve. She really was a sight to behold.

"looks good."

"That's all I get?"

"What were you expecting?"

The girl turns back. "A shower of complements but guess you're not even good for that anymore."

"I said it looks good?"

"I'm done with you now. go change out of that ugly outfit already."

you wanna say something but you decide to just bite your tongue and head back into the dressing room.

come the weekend, Regina is out of town with her parents which means you've ended up with babysitting duties. Gretchen and Karen had both decided they were coming over to your place. you didn't mind. so now you're loitering on the bed with your back against your headboard scrolling through your phone. Karen is snuggled up in half a blanket using your lap as a pillow also scrolling through her phone. it's silent but comfortable. Gretchen vanished about ten minutes ago and hasn't returned. "do we have to start hanging out with Cady?"

"What?" you glance down from your phone.

"I don't wanna hang out with her, she's creepy."

"that's not very nice, Karen," you scold. "but no. why would we?"

"Because you're like a thing now," Karen answered, pressing her phone to her chest. She meets your stare. "you kissed"

"excuse me?" your heart practically skips a beat. you undoubtedly hadn't told anyone that Cady kissed you and you're almost certain she hadn't.

"what? Gretchen told us that she saw you and Cady making out after school on Monday," Gretchen fucking weiners. of course. but how did she know?

"by us you mean?"

"me and Regina," fuck.

"When was this?" you wonder. and as if summoned on cue, Gretchen emerges through the doorway and you can't help but raise your voice. "you told Regina I was making out with Cady?"

"What?"

"Karen told me so don't lie," you demand. "I thought we had a deal."

"I didn't tell her about the hallway."

"Are you stupid?" you press. Gretchen sits on the edge of your bed, fluttering her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry," a hefty sigh. the girl shuffled up the bed so she was beside you. "are you mad at me?"

"Obviously."

"but you love me?" you don't reply and she nudges your shoulder with hers. "right?" you stay silent, glimpsing at her withan empty expression. you did love her but you were pissed off with her right now.

"look at this," Karen shoves her phone straight up and into your view. it shows a picture of herself. you assume she had just taken by the outfit.

"adorable," you smile walmly but it quickly fades. Gretchen had very much fucked you over. That day with Cady, you hadn't seen anyone around other than a few stray students. why was Gretchen even still there? and why hadn't she asked you about it before telling Regina?

"did you see what Kelsey posted today?" Gretchen questions, pulling out her phone. "it's so pathetic. like she's clearly doing it just for attention." you let your head fall back against the wall as Gretchen proceeds to talk in your ear. your mind drifts to the day in the cafeteria when Regina embarrassed you in front of everyone. you had thought it was an extreme reaction to a conversation in the hallway but turns out it was because of the kiss. was she that jealous of the idea of you and Cady? That made little sense when she was running around with Shane.

"Does Regina hate me?"

"of course not," Gretchen insists, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. "you know anger is basically her love language. she just cares a lot."

"Regina thinks Cady is a freak," Karen contributes. "and that you hanging out with her makes us look bad."

"We were just doing homework."

"I saw you kiss her," Gretchen retorts.

"she kissed me,"

"you have been hanging out with her a lot," Karen states

"and you invited her to Connor's party," Gretchen resumes.

"yeah but..." you trail off because you really don't have a comeback. All those things were very much true. "this is stupid."

"if you had just listened to me-"

"Jesus, we get it Gretchen" you huff sharply and then feel bad for it. "sorry but you have to stop saying that- I should be able to talk to a girl without it being the end of the world."

"maybe talk to less weird girls?" Karen proposes brightly. "like me.... or Gretchen.... oooh or Regina."

"Thanks for the suggestion." you tap her nose gently, making her face scrunch up. "but I meant other than you three."

"you can talk to whoever you want," Gretchen reassures you, dropping her head to your shoulder. "as long as Regina approves."

"you sound insane,"

Gretchen shrugs. Karen's attention has returned to her phone. and you were suddenly so aware of how insane being friends with Regina George truly is.

the bell for first period has you walking down the hallway towards your history class. you share it with Gretchen who you haven't spoken to since Sunday. you're still mad at her.

"Hey, can we talk?" your brow furrows a little. it was Regina. and you were still mad at her too for last week.

"I have to get to class," you huff but she doesn't take the hint; instead she takes your hand and drags you straight into the nearest closet. it smelt like chemicals, dust and... vanilla. you imagine the vanilla is the girl, not the room.

"what the hell?"

"Just give me a minute,"

"why are we in a closet?" you wonder. it was cramped. a painfully buzzy lightbulb hung over head, flickering through an array of intensities. shelves full of supplies.

"I'm sorry, okay?" your eyes were looking anyway but at her until now. staring into blue-green eyes. did she just... apologise for something? was this a dream? your dreams never normally included Regina apologising but that seemed like the only way this could be real. "I'm sorry I got mad over you and Cady. you've just been acting weird since she joined"

"Are you... fucking with me right now?""

"what? I can't apologise?"

"I never said that," you did imply it but you would never say it. "I'm just confused." a shrug of your shoulders.

"I just don't like it. I don't like her," she wasn't about that. you weren't confused about her feelings towards Cady. you were confused as to why she was apologising for it? also, why do you have to do this in the closet? couldn't you have done this in a place with such a dizzying aroma? "I get like angry when I see you together. and then when Gretchen told me you kissed her-"

"she kissed me."

"Whatever," a dismissive wave. "I mean, it just was a lot y'know."

"not really" Your brow furrows.

"you're not that fucking dense, are you?" as the blonde takes a step forward, you take a step back crashing into a bucket and mop. She grabs your wrist. maybe an attempt to save you? "careful." said much softer. caring almost. it makes you suspicious. more so than the apology you hardly believed in the first place.

"we're gonna be late for class," you answer quietly. you try to pull your arm away but her grip doesn't falter. it's firm and tight; possessive almost. "Regina, please,"

"you promised to stay away from her," Regina mentions softly. you think back to that day. Regina straddling your lap. hands on your chest. moving against you. soft lips. it makes you blush. she pulls you closer. "promised you didn't like her more than me." her other hand gently cups your cheek. "was all that a lie?"

"no," you shake your head slow and stern. "no. i-"

"you kissed her." stated firmly.

"she kissed me," you argue back. her fingers press a little harder into your cheek.

"don't remember asking," expressed as she leaned in close. hot breath hitting your skin. vanilla fills your nostrils. "tell me you love me," whispered. you swallow hard. "please."

"Regina..." grip on your wrist tightens.

"go on."

"I... love you," you sound more confused than sure.

"more than cady?"

"you're my best friend,"

a once gentle hand now grips your chin. "more than Cady?" asked again.

"uh... more than Cady,"

"say you're obsessed with me." her lips loom mere inches from yours threatening a kiss.

"I'm... obsessed with you." her eyes are so intense, it's kinda scary. it's always treacherous being so close to her.

"Good," her lips press into yours. fierce and strong. but gone just as quickly. "I'll see you at lunch." she lets go and leaves without another word. The door to the closet closes with a click. insane. you remain for a few minutes. a little lost. a little confused. then you leave for class.

sat at a table under the beautiful shade of a massive umbrella during your free period. Cady is opposite. Gretchen was supposed to be here too but you don't know what happened to her. probably worried about sitting with Cady. "why are you doing work?"

"It's a study period. you should also be doing work,"

"It's almost lunchtime don't be ridiculous," you groan loudly. the bell rings mere moments later bringing a smile as the animals are released from their classrooms out into the wild. "see."

"you didn't do anything,"

"never do. That's half the fun of a free period before lunch."

"hey baby," that was Regina's voice. you look up promptly, half expecting her to make a comment or demand your presence but instead, she takes a seat right beside you.

"Hello," you try not to think about earlier. about how weird this is and focus on the fact she seemed to be in a good mood. her arms snake around you, drawing you back into her embrace.

"Cady,"

"hi Regina,"

"you look good today," Regina comments. your brow furrows. she was being weirdly affectionate. should you be concerned? probably but you were gonna enjoy her openness. the last week had been so weird and you kinda of just wanted things to go back to normal. and while this wasn't exactly normal, you prefer this to outward anger.

"thank you,"

"Now say it back," you roll your eyes but wear a playful smile.

"you look radiant Regina," said playfully. She gives you a quick squeeze and you finally settle in her embrace.

"I know," hummed in your ear. "so do you wanna come to mine after school?" muttered in your ear.

"what's the occasion?"

"I want you to," Regina declared. "why does it matter? you're coming over."

"am I now?" you ask playfully.

"We should get food," Regina lets go and gets up. you watch her for a moment expecting her to bark a demand but she doesn't. she just walks away. it freaks you out so you bid farewell to Cady and go scampering after the blonde.

"you good?"

"course," she states as you fall in step.

"you're being strange," you observe. "I was half expecting you to drag me away from that table."

"what's the point?" she asks. "you'd just go running back to the little nerd."

"no running is involved."

"running. skipping. drooling." the blonde teased. when you enter the lunch room, Gretchen is already sitting alone at your usual table. "like a love-sick little puppy dog."

"Okay, ew, no,"

"where have you been?" Gretchen wonders as you approach. She knows where you've been. you text her.

"no love involved whatsoever,"

"Who are you in love with?" Gretchen asks.

"no one,"

"I got tater tots," Karen announces as she zooms past with a try, taking a seat at your lunch table.

"oooh, they have tots today? let's go get food," you grab Regina's hand and start pulling her towards the food. Gretchen comes scrambling after the two of you. "I'm starving."

"aren't you always," Regina comments. the sea parts as she leads the way to the front of the line. it's unfair. but you never call her out. you always take advantage.

"Who are you in love with?" Gretchen repeats

"nobody, we moved on,"

"god keep up Gretchen," Regina huffs. you're so excited about your tater tots you practically run back to the table with your little tray. your two friends in toe. you take your usual seat next to Karen. Regina sits opposite with Gretchen.

"Cady keeps looking over here," Karen announces, popping a tot in her mouth. "it's creeping me out."

"she's so weird," Regina sighs. "if she's anything like her freaky friends it's because she's obsessed with our dear sweet puppy,"

"she is not obsessed with me,"

"This is what happens when you give losers attention, " Regina persists. "they think they have a shot. soon she's gonna think she can just come over and talk to us and it's your fault."

"Firstly, she would never do that. She's intimidated by you," you express. "secondly. she is sweet, you gotta lay off her."

"as she should be," the blonde looks disgusted. "also gross. She's so fuckin weird."

"you guys are being mean,"

"Is it mean if it's true?"

"still yes," you insist. "I like cady."

"We know," Gretchen states. Regina shoots her a dirty look.

"you don't get to talk Gretchen," Regina spits. "you never shut up about Jason like he's not disgusting."

"Cady would be cute if she just learnt how to dress. and do her makeup," Karen interjects.

"I don't even think that would help."

"Can we stop talking about her please?"

"don't wanna hear us shit talk your girlfriend."

"not my girlfriend." you argue. "but I would like this to end. quickly. let's go back to Jason that dude fuckin sucks."

"he's so sleazy," Karen adds. and the conversation flows into something other than you and Cady. thank god.

you're lying on Regina's couch. in Regina's room. alone. after school. you expected Karen and Gretchen to be here too but alas they weren't here. after this morning, you wouldn't be surprised if this was some cult worship ceremony. the door creaks open and in walks the infamous blonde. a glance before going back to your phone.

"my mum wants to know if you're staying for dinner,"

"am I?" you don't even know why you're here. and knowing Regina she could kick you out at any moment.

"I said yeah but you don't have to," a shrug.

"guess you're not mad at me anymore then,"

"When was I mad at you?" she questions, sitting down on her bed.

"When are you ever not?" you tease. "sometimes I think you hate me."

"if I hated you, you wouldn't be here," the blonde comments.

"you've been so short with me recently." you sit up properly.

"Because you've been acting different." the girl insists. "and it's weird. and I don't like it. I want you to go back to how you were."

"I don't even know how I've been acting different?" you lean back. "I think you're just jealous."

"jealous of what?"

"Cady." you see her eyes narrow. jaw tense.

"you are obsessed with her."

"not obsessed," you correct. "I don't even know what is going on between me and Cady."

"but you like her?"

you shrug. "do you like her?"

"no," it makes you smile for some reason. same old Regina. number one cady hater. "not even a little. she's strange. can't dress for shit. really awkward."

"tell us how you really feel," you chuckle a little.

"you'll just call me mean," like she wasn't already being mean.

you shrug. "I like when you're mean."

"I know," a smile quirks at her lips. the blonde pats the space next to her. "come here,"

"why?"

"Just come here," a dramatic sigh. you push up and cautiously walk over to sit down next to her. "why are you acting so scared of me?"

"I don't know," you shrug. "kinda expecting you to push me off the bed or something."

"why would I do that?" her brows furrowed.

"Because you're evil," a smirk slowly takes over her lips. you nudge her softly with your shoulder.

"I love it when you call me evil,"

"I know," you reply. "because you're obsessed with me."

"you wish."

"I don't have to wish," you tease. "because you're obsessed with me."

"you're really pushing your luck here," Regina comments. "stop." her tone suggested she was done playing. the blonde falls back against her bed. you just look at her as she starts typing on her phone. "and stop staring at me freak."

"but you're so pretty,"

"your girlfriend wouldn't like you saying that."

"not my girlfriend," you insist. "no more than you are." the blonde doesn't respond and you both fall into a comfortable silence. you lie down beside her. "why did you invite me over?"

"make out. prove a point. why do you think i asked in front of cady?" you just shrug. the girl sighs loudly and discards her phone off to one side before rolling onto her side to look at you. you just turn your head to face her.

"for someone so smart, you really are stupid," you'd be offended but there was hardly a point. she just watches you, watching her. you crack under her gaze and look away but she just reaches over and forces you to look at her. "do you know why I keep you around?"

"Because you love me?" said playfully but quietly. you know it's not the answer she was looking for.

"I like the way you look at me," she admitted quietly. "everyone stares at me but you... you look at me like I'm the only person in the entire world." she went on. "like you just can't get enough." you don't know what to say. Regina was like nobody you had ever met but in a different way to Cady. She just commanded attention. a beauty beyond words. and sometimes you wonder why you ever caught her eye. the girl shuffles closer now. "you can run around with freaks. you can be confused about Cady. but at the end of the day, none of it matters." that hand on your jaw loosens and begins to trail down over your neck. "you'll always come running back to me."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's in the way your breath hitches when I'm close. the way your eyes linger when I walk away. the way you so easily melt under my touch," her voice was gentle but taunting. her hand slipping lower and lower down the length of your body. you could hear your heart beating loudly in your chest. an onset wave of heat flushing your cheeks. "I can say or do whatever I want," her hand stops at your thigh, squeezing roughly. body leaning into yours. pressing you further into the plush fabric of her bed. "and you'll always be mine." whispered sharply before her lips meet yours and the fire makes the rest of the world melt away. you reach up to draw her closer. deepen the kiss and the way she groans makes your head spin. but then she pulls away unexpectedly. "oh I forgot to mention Shane is coming over after dinner so you gotta be gone by then. Cool?" you can feel the emotions stirring. it's weird and confusing. Shane's name fills you with anger; annoyance even. through no fault of his own. was she fucking serious? but at the same time you couldn't move. maybe a wiser person would have stopped everything right here. walked away with their dignity in their hands. Cady was probably a safer option. she liked you. and maybe you liked her too. but there was just something about Regina. being on her good side meant the world worked for you too. it was a world you'd become so accustomed to, you can't imagine it any differently. you can't imagine a life without the blonde. you didn't want to leave. you wanted to chase the high of each kiss. the pain as her nails dig into your skin. the firey mess of being with her.

"cool." you nod simply, pulling her back into the kiss. dignity was overrated when it came to Regina George anyway.

#regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp #mean girls fanfic #regina george fanfic

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