#thigh high july | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 7.5k

Chapter 1/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Late August, 1996.

July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana.

The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior.

“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool.

“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it.

“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”

The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking.

You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”

She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”

You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.

“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”

Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.

“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.

“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”

“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too.

“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”

“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in.

“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”

Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”

“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”

“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”

An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended.

“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”

“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated.

“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.

“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do.

“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.”

The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”

“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.”

Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.

“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said.

A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.

“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.

“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.

Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.

The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.

“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.

It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”

Oh.

“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol.

“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”

“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically.

Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”

Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself.

Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink.

“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”

The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth.

Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band.

You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”

She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”

You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis.

“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt.

Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name.

Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat.

“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.

“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”

“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.

But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”

“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”

He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”

“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.

“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”

“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.

“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”

You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.

“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence.

“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.

Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.

Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.

“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”

“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.

“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”

He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”

“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.

“Turned thirty last month.”

“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.

You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.”

End of conversation.

“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs.

“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”

Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.

“You still want to?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”

Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home.

You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.

A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.

“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.

“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.

The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.

Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.

“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.

“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…

Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.

“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”

You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building.

The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.”

You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.

Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.

“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin.

“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.

“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it.

Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”

You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.

“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.

Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”

“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers.

Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.

Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.

You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth.

“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”

He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him.

“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend.

“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.

“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.

“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.

“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”

“Huh? What?”

“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.

“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”

Stay for a bit, baby.

It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.

“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock.

RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!

Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!”

He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you.

You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.

You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.

You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.

“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”

That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What?”

“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”

Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”

Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.

You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.

“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.

“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night?

“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”

“Yeah…is Jess there?”

He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”

“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.

But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.

Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”

“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”

Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.”

His…son?

Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”

“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”

“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”

“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.

“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”

You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?

The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.

Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.

Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.

“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.

“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.

“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”

“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.

A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”

Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.

You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best.

The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.

“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”

“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.

Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…

And a Harris Munson.

“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”

The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.

You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes.

“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”

“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead.

“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie.

“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”

You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now.

“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly.

“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”

“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”

The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks.

Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”

“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys.

“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks.

“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek.

You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”

Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”

“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded.

After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.

“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”

He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”

“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”

Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.

Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.”

Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.

“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.

You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris.

Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”

You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”

Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts.

“Excuse me?”

“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face.

You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”

Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”

He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”

“Can’t come soon enough.”

Taglist: @littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday @breezybeesposts @tlclick73 @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

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

3K notes · View notes

love-that-we-were-in · 22 days

Text

pretty as a vine (sweet as a grape)

pairing: luke castellan x reader summary: luke castellan might be everyone's favorite councilor over the summer. he might be a little too sweet for you in the fall. word count: 1.7k warnings: none

authors note: thank you to @wlntrsldler for letting me steal this concept from you even if making luke a real tried and true loser was a struggle. hope y'all enjoy!!

It was rare to see Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy without his signature smile on his face; always ready to help, always ready to please.

You’d only had a handful of conversations with Luke Castellan, passing words in the height of hectic summer heat. Most of them in the middle of the night, when all the campers should be tucked away in the cabins, but you’d take the brief moments of quiet to wander the grounds with a lit cigarette hanging off your lips.

Luke would approach you every time, always the same way, a pink flush on his cheeks and a quiet, timid voice telling you that he had to enforce the rules, that he had to send you back to your cabin because it was past curfew.

You’d roll your eyes, lick your lips, wave the smoke obscuring your view of him away playfully and promise to head back after this one. He’d nod and walk away, and you’d pretend not to notice his silhouette hidden behind one of the trees, not quite obscured enough by the lack of lighting to go wholly unnoticed, waiting for you to make your way back to where you’re supposed to be.

He was sweet, too sweet, sometimes. Making sure you were safe, that nothing bad would happen to you even after taking his supposed leave. It was cute, really, how he acted around you underneath the starlight, always so nervous and flustered, like he’d never seen a woman before. You supposed, confined to the parameters of camp for so many years, he really hadn’t seen many of them.

It’s something you carry with you this year, watching as summer fades into fall, how camp suddenly empties. You’re not sure what to make of it, how still everything seems now, how the usual noise dampens into almost nothing and you itch for the hurriedness of July to return.

You’re lucky, really, to have spent so long exploring the world beyond camp, seeing what growing up had to offer as if it were normal. A lot of the kids you see now, they haven’t experienced a half of what you have, trading high school for battling dragons at someone else’s request, and it shows each year like clockwork.

If you’re honest, hidden behind the treeline near the lake, camp makes you uneasy like this. Less busy, less extreme - walking the thin line between a place to train and a place to live - and it has you more on edge than before. It could be that you’ve grown accustomed to the bustle of the Boston streets. It might just be that Luke has been hiding just beyond view since you lit your cigarette.

“I know, I know,” you say when he finally approaches. He stumbles, familiar flush blotching the skin of his neck, climbing the tips of his ears. “Just let me finish this one.”

He nods and you wait for him to walk away, follow his usual path back into the forest. He doesn’t, standing on the damp grass nearby without saying a word, and you look at him again.

You’re used to seeing Luke Castellan in different forms - it’s part of how he lives. Nervous and unsure and so confident with a sword that it’s a little insane that he’s the same person during training as is standing in front of you now.

He’s got this little dip to his shoulders, fingers tapping against his own thigh as you stare at him. His curls are slightly longer than when summer started, curling around his ears and resting just above his brows. He’s got a sweatshirt on, dark green and oversized, and his teeth sink into his bottom lip the longer you take to look away.

“You can head back,” you say eventually, flicking ash to the ground at your feet. “I promise to be good and go straight to bed.”

It’s not meant to be anything, merely an assurance. But there’s this way Luke reacts to it, how his fingers stop tapping in favor of clenching his first, how he breathes deeper for a few breaths, how he swallows around nothing, that ignites something under your skin. Makes you want to push that little bit further.

“You really need to stop coming out after curfew,” he mumbles in the end, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his sweater. It’s soft and a little warm and you wonder if it’s the humidity or Luke himself that’s responsible. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“You’re sweet, Castellan,” you crush the butt of your cigarette out, brushing past him to start the trek back to your cabin. “It’s kind of adorable.”

You hear him suck in a breath. You don’t hear his footsteps directly behind you as you walk through the foliage. You kind of wish you’d turned around to see the blush rise on his cheeks.

Maybe you will next time.

Next time doesn’t come for weeks. It gives you space to observe Luke now, when he’s being pulled in fewer directions, when there’s lower expectations. You learn that neither of those things exist where Luke is concerned; that he has this inability to not be helpful, to not put himself forward when no one else will. He somehow takes up more responsibilities as fall gets underway, smiling wide when you know you’d be stretched thin.

It’s admirable, to a point, and you want to know how he does it.

A few years ago, you convinced yourself Luke was only on when the sun shone brightest. Watching him demonstrate a throw to a young Athena kid, you think he might be the sun itself.

“Nice arm,” is what you greet him with when the little girl runs off, ball in hand. He pauses his hands where they rest on the fabric of his pants, still slightly bent at the knees from helping and lips parted as he glances up at you. “She seemed happy.”

“She just needed some help with the technique.”

He shrugs and stands to actually face you.

Mid-afternoon at camp has never really sat well with you. Always slower, sun burning and campers left to fill their own time before dinner. You’ve never really known what to do with it; Luke squints at the grounds before you as if he’s searching for who needs him next.

“Do you ever take a break?” Is what you say when the silence drags on for too long.

Luke blinks, lips parting. A group of Hephaestus kids laugh from down by the lake. You wait.

“I go to bed at midnight.”

“And what time do you wake up?” You kick at the grass below your feet, taking in how Luke stumbles for an answer, brown eyes darting each way as if it’ll fall from the sky.

“The apollo kids really love watching the sunrise,” he chokes out in the end, digging his hands into his pockets. You wonder if he thinks it makes his nerves less obvious. “It’s a really nice sunrise.”

“Come watch it with me tomorrow.”

You say it partly for the reaction itself. That same quick breath Luke takes each time you say something that shocks him, the red tint to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, the harsh movement of his adams’ apple. You kind of also really want to see how Luke Castellan changes between day and night - if it’s a version of him you just haven’t read yet.

You don’t mention that you’ll have to force yourself out of bed, unused to early rising.

He nods, three quick nods like he thinks you’ll take it back if he’s not enthusiastic enough.

You smile then. “I’ll see you later, Luke.”

He meets you where he usually does, further north than anyone tends to go at any hour, let alone this early. There’s less hesitation to his steps than a few nights ago, your invitation dangling between you both something like a promise.

“I’m not gonna bite,” you say when he stops just short of the rock you’ve claimed. You glance over at where he’s just feet away, bright orange camp tee peeking out from his grey hoodie. “It’s too early for that.”

“Oh.”

There’s some shuffling before Luke is perching himself on the stone next to you. He’s close enough to touch from here, the makeshift seat just barely big enough for two people to share, and you take in how he tucks his hands into his pockets, makes himself take up as little room as possible.

Outside of his swordsmanship, you’ve never seen Luke take up much space at all.

“This is nice,” he says eventually, the sun starting to peer over the lake.

There’s something almost beautiful about what the sunrise does for him, you realise. Neither of you have moved, Luke’s gaze still locked on the horizon, but you’ve transferred your attention to him. You’ve seen the lake enough times. You’ve never seen Luke Castellan’s chest rising and falling with each steady breath, or the way his eyes turn a little gold when the sun hits them just right. How he relaxes in the autumn chill.

“You’re really pretty, Luke.”

It slips past your lips before it fully forms in your mind. His head snaps to the side, cheeks flushing and lips parted. You hadn’t meant to say it, too caught up in the slow start to the morning, but it’s out there and you don’t want to take it back.

“Such a pretty boy,” you mutter, shaking your head.

“I-“ Luke starts, before clearing his throat. You see his hands twitch in his pockets. “What?”

You twist on the rock underneath you, lifting your legs so they’re crossed, knees brushing the edge of Luke’s thigh. His eyes drop at the movement.

This should feel weird at camp. You’d fallen into the habit of flirting back in Boston, something to fill the gaps and score you a cigarette when you really needed help to get them. Never like this though - like the moment was delicate and its shattering was solely in your hands.

The ability to shatter Luke Castellan, Camp Half-Blood’s golden boy, rests on your shoulders in an early sunrise.

When his breath hitches as you push yourself closer, you think you’d like to watch him shatter in the sunlight.

Pretty doesn’t even come close when it happens.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

518 notes · View notes

joonberriess · 8 months

Text

⊹₊ ⋆ “she hotter than july in california, tan skin, eyes on it, stretched legs like the roads in malibu,”

TAGS — sleazy baby daddy!jk woop woop, birthday sex, cunnilingus, fingering, messy blow jobs, face fucking, making out, drug use (weed), oc is a cunty mama, this is in the past when they were dating, unprotected sex, creampies, possessive jk + oc, dirty talk to the max, both r high during sex, jk calling his gf “mama”, slight(?) degradation, oc throws it BACK, don’t play w her that’s her man, me thinks they made jiho here by accident, it gets cute at one point LMAO

WORD COUNT — 3.3 k

You leaned against Jungkook with your back pressed close to his chest, throwing your arms up-over your head to wrap around Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook leaned in with a hum, leaving small wet kisses along the nape of your neck. His hands wandered all over your body—your thighs, waist, hips—he managed to snake his hands over your tits and give each mound a gentle squeeze.

The music blared loudly in the background and through the thick clouds of smoke your lips found his cheek as you pressed a sweet kiss, leaving behind a brown glossy lipstick stamp on his once unblemished cheek. Jungkook chuckled quietly under his breath and tugged you closer on his lap, “What is it baby? You leavin’ your mark on me? Want all those other girls to see who I belong to?” He teases softly.

“I don’t need to do all that,” you shrug cutely and turn around in his lap to look him in his eyes, “ ‘s just a reminder for these bitches who wanna act funny.” You gently tap his lip with your finger, “Happy birthday baby.” You say softly after a few moments of eye-fucking him with a coy smile on your face.

“Mmm–happy birthday to me,” he groans out when he feels your plush ass roll back on his cock, he can feel it stirring under the confinements of his boxers/jeans, “fuck, ‘s not fair how you got an ass like this sitting away in your jeans baby.” He smacks your ass hard with both hands, gripping it afterwards with tight squeezes.

You hum in response and lay yourself on his chest, head tucked under his chin as you play with his big hands over your tummy. The moment is interrupted by Jimin who saunters over with Namjoon and Hoseok, “Aww birthday boy getting his cake early?” He smirks deviously as he takes a seat across from you and Jungkook, the others following suit.

“What do you want?” Jungkook sighs as he looks at his three friends, “y/n already don’t like your stupid ass, you wanna make her hate you even more?” He rolls his eyes in annoyance, ignoring Jimin’s fake little whines.

“y/n you hate me?” He immediately asks while setting the rolling tray over the coffee table, “You hate little ole me?” He grins, licking his lips.

You stare back at him unamused, giving him one look up and down before replying, “Yes, but hate is a strong word. More like.. I tolerate you,” your eyes drop down to the rolling tray, “give it to me, you’re gonna fuck it up and none of us are gonna have a good high.” You reach down to take the stuff away.

Jimin holds his hands up in surrender, “You do you then, I’m not gonna stop you.” He sits back lazily.

“Oh shit how come no one told me y/n can roll a fat blunt?” Hoseok laughs, “Man fuck you Jimin, I’m never smoking with your ass ever again.” He hits the other on the shoulder. Meanwhile Namjoon sits there watching in pure awe while you work diligently. Jungkook merely sits there with a proud look as he strokes over your hip gently with a lazy grin.

“Look at Jungkook, sittin’ all stupid over there,” Jimin snickers, “bet you really wanna make her your baby mama now.”

“Course she’s my baby mama, look at her,” Jungkook says, almost offended that Jimin would think otherwise, “fuck getting married first I wanna give her my kids, gonna make her my baby mama before I wife her up.” He grins as the others laugh, he feels your hand smack his arm gently, “Huh? What is it baby?”

“Pass me the wraps,” you mumble, “c’mon,” you glare. Jungkook reaches for the wrapping paper with a quiet “yes ma’am”. You finish rolling the blunt and hand it off, “Light it,” you nod at Namjoon. The five of you smoked the blunt until there was nothing left, Hoseok said something about how Yoongi had grown this new batch of bud himself, you don’t really remember because no less than thirty minutes later it’s hitting you.

Jungkook was relaxed, idly running his hand over your thigh while he listened to Jimin ramble about something. Through your haze you noticed the song playing in the background, it definitely had you wanting to dance. You sway a little in Jungkook’s lap, quietly singing under your breath as you hum along to the smooth beat.

“She hotter than July in California,” You mumble while nodding your head to the beat.

Jungkook noticed how into the song you were, and if he was being honest he liked it too. “Let’s go baby,” he whispers in your ear and pats your ass, “up you go mama.” He helps you stand and leads you away from his protesting friends. Through the grinding couples you guys find a spot, Jungkook licks his lips as he eyes the way your hips sway.

You turn to look at him with a devious smile, one he returns enthusiastically as he gently lifts your arm and has you giving him a small spin. He whistles low and smacks your ass hard, “C’mere mama,” he brings you back, “right here baby,” he whispers hotly in your ear as he has you pressed against him with your ass right over his crotch.

“Here?” You purr softly whilst pushing back on him, hips swaying smoothly from side to side. Jungkook growls quietly and buries his face in your neck, his hands grip your hips tightly guiding them as you sway sensually to the music playing in the background.

“Right there baby, there you go.” He purrs back, “My slutty baby, you showin’ out for me? Gonna let everyone in the room know you’re mine?” Jungkook leaves hot kisses up your neck, biting teasingly at the sensitive skin there.

You reach behind to grip his fluffy hair, throwing your head back on his shoulder as you lick your lips slowly with a grin, “I’m letting everyone know what’s mine is mine, cause a few of ‘em wanna act funny thinking it’s cute.”

Jungkook groans when you slowly lean forward, bending over as your ass sits perfectly over his now hard cock. “Shit baby,” he watches you with dark eyes, loving the way your ass rolls over him as you throw it back for him to see. He runs his hands over both sides of your ass, gripping it tightly as it shakes against the palms of his hands. “C’mere.” He all but growls as he yanks you into his arms.

You turn to slot your lips against his, arms coming up to wrap around his neck as you sigh into the kiss. He pats the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump as he hoists you up into his arms. A few people catcall the two of you, the room fills with whistles as his stupid friends yell “get it Jeon” and some other shit you don’t really give a fuck about.

His lips move against yours with urgency, whenever you try to pull away he drags you back in with a low whine. There’s wet smacking noises that fill the space between the two of you. Jungkook is relentless, the pot in his system sends him into a frenzy, leaving him a horny mess. You’re not faring different either with how your clit buzzes in excitement, throbbing between your now slicked up folds.

“Hey Kook, say cheese!” Jimin yells.

You break from the kiss and stick your tongue out with a devious smirk, his friends release a chorus of “oohs” from the freaky sight. Jungkook laughs as he lets you do as you please, barely looking at the camera as Jimin snaps a photo of you two. “Fuck you Min.” He snorts and begins walking away. He kicks a random door open and carries you in quickly, tossing you like a ragdoll on to the bed.

“You have no idea how bad I want you baby,” he locks the door and hurriedly slips his shirt off, tossing it into a random corner, “do you even know what you do to me when you strut around with those tight little jeans and tank top baby? It’s like you do it on purpose, you want me to lose it.” He climbs over you on the bed with a low groan.

You chuckle quietly and wound your arms around his neck, “I got something else for you baby, ‘s underneath,” you wiggle teasingly while letting the straps of your top slip off your shoulders.

Jungkook licks his lips excitedly and starts undressing you, he shoves your jeans out of the way and tosses your top somewhere with his shirt. “Fucking hell.” He hisses when he sees what you got on under. You lay there spread out for him in all your glory, a coy smile on your face as you push your arms together so your tits press together sinfully.

“You like it?” You purr.

“I fucking love it.” He growls back and leans down to smash his lips against yours, “Gonna fuck you so hard till you’re making a mess all over my cock, gonna have that pussy dripping by the time I’m done with you.” He whispers harshly in between kisses.

You moan softly, mumbling in between kisses as your hands travel from his shoulders to the back of his neck. “Kook…mm..wanna suck your cock,” you softly say as you look up with hazy eyes, “want you to fuck my face baby, gonna make it nice and wet for you,” you purr softly.

His pupils are dilated with desire pooling in his eyes, he doesn’t reply verbally and pushes you back as he climbs over you, “Yeah? You gonna suck my cock like the good little slut you are? Gonna let me use that little throat of yours?” He thumbs at the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down slightly to tease you. “Answer me baby.”

“Yes,” you breathe out, “want it so bad baby.” You bite down on your lip while looking him in the eye. Jungkook unbuttons his jeans and lets them fall open as he pulls his cock out from his boxers. The head leaks drops of cum which falls on to your tits, he strokes over his shaft with a low hiss as he guides the weeping head to your lips.

“Open for me baby.” He whispers, watching closely as your lips envelop his throbbing cock, the sides of your mouth hugging his shaft just nicely as he feeds you inch for inch.

Your tongue lies flat on the underside of his shaft poking at his sensitive throbbing veins, tears spring in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat. You will yourself not to gag as quiet little moans slip past, sending vibrations all over his cock. Jungkook cusses under his breath, he stays perfectly still with a hand fisting your hair tightly, using it as leverage.

“Doing so good for me,” he slurs out, “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep moaning like that.”

Slowly he slides his cock out until the tip remains, giving you a couple of seconds to regain your senses before he’s pushing back in. Jungkook moans under his breath and begins rolling his hips against your face, his head is thrown back as he closes his eyes and tries to focus on the feeling of your hot tight throat around his cock. “Just like that baby, keep going,” he blissfully smiles, hips kicking upwards more forcefully with each thrust.

You gag loudly, spit trails down your chin and the sides of your mouth as you fight to keep your gag reflex under control. Jungkook mindlessly humps your face and his balls are pressed snug against your chin. He grinds his hips in slow circles, his groans are louder as he pulls your head back and lets his cock slip out of your mouth with a quiet ‘pop’.

“So fuckin’ messy,” he pants, “wanna eat your pussy out mamas, don’t wanna cum like this..” He jerks his cock in his hand, slapping the head repeatedly on your swollen glossy lips, “Yeahhh…just like that baby, open up wide, gonna make you slobber on it.” He lazily grins.

You swirl your tongue around the weeping head and moan at the tangy taste of his pre-cum. You want more so you lift your head to get his cock back in your mouth but he stops you, “Let me have it baby, just wanna make you feel good..” He sighs in bliss as he climbs off of you, going down until he nestles between your soft thighs.

Your pussy’s a mess by now, you completely soaked through the lace panties you wore for tonight. Jungkook wastes no time in peeling them off of you, moaning low when he sees dribbles of slick sticking to your plump folds and creating a small string connected to your panties.

“Relax for me,” his hot breath fans over your pussy, “gonna have my birthday present.” He grins before going down, hot tongue laving over your drenched pussy.

“Ohh,” you slur out with your head thrown back, “ ‘s good right there..” You twist your hand in Jungkook’s hair and grip it tightly between your fingers. Low slurping and smacking noises fill the otherwise quiet room as Jungkook eats you like you’re his last meal.

You throw your arm above your head to grip the pillows lying around the bed. His tongue glides over your throbbing clit in figure of eights, flicking back and forth in quick motions that has your back arching off the bed. Jungkook is relentless, he’s got two fingers knuckle deep in your throbbing little pussy. Your poor cunt drools all over his digits, coating them in creamy slick which runs down your ass and onto the blankets underneath.

“Jungkook..” Your head thrashes from side to side as you mewl in pleasure, Jungkook grunts and covers your entire pussy with his hot mouth. Small breathless “uh’s” leave your lips, you tighten your hold on his unruly curls and press his face closer between your thighs. “Right there,” you breath out shakily.

He pumps his fingers deeper and curls them upward to find that special little spot inside of you. Jungkook pulls back from your cunt as he pants hotly, “That’s it baby, cum for me,” he groans low, eyes flickering from your pussy to you. You look so pretty like this in the throes of pleasure, head thrown back and lips parted in a small ‘o’.

“Jungkook..!” Your hips buck against his fingers and your pussy clenches tight, spasming under his touch as a flood of wetness slowly seeps out of you.

You make a real mess this time judging by the slick noises your pussy makes as Jungkook slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Your cunt throbs uncontrollably from your intense orgasm as you lay there trying to recover with a pounding heartbeat.

Jungkook climbs up and over you, hovering low as his necklace dangles in your face. “Hi mamas.” He greets with a soft grin. He leans down to press small chaste kisses over your pillowy lips.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck and bring him down for more kisses, “Hi,” you greet softly with a tiny smile. His cock twitches from where it’s pressed right against your thigh, you reach down to grip it and stroke him slowly, “Gonna fuck me now or what?” You say in a sultry tone.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “slip me in your little pussy baby.” He hovers over you with his hands on either side of your head, “Go on.” He licks his lips. You eagerly spread your thighs farther apart and slowly guide him to your messy pussy.

He pushes past your wet sticky folds, a loud squelch fills the room when his cockhead breaches your slicked up hole. “Kook,” you moan softly as you press him in, “fuck..fuck me,” you whisper and let his cock go in favor of wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook bites down on his lip as he kicks his hips forward, sinking into your tight pussy in one go. He stuffs his fat cock in and stills for a moment, “Oh shit baby,” he moans out. You can feel his cock throb harshly for a few seconds, so you decide to tease him a little by rhythmically squeezing around him. “Fuck don’t do that baby,” he hisses out as he grips your hip tightly.

“Then fuck me like you promised.” You whisper, “Take what’s yours.” You purr softly as you hook your thighs around his waist, ankles locking behind his back as you hold on to him.

Jungkook slowly pulls out until the tip remains, and after a few seconds he slams back inside in a series of rough thrusts. His hips smack hard into yours, balls colliding with your ass as they wetly slap against your cheeks. You throw your head back with a loud cry leaving you. Your poor body is jostled around, threatening to slide up the bed from the force of his thrusts.

“Fuck,” you whimper through gritted teeth, “just like that baby, keep going,” you plead softly as you take the rough fucking.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, in fact he’s full on moaning while fucks your pussy like a madman. His cock strikes deep against your g-spot, the head occasionally pokes your cervix but it’s nothing too serious because he finds a way to get his cock back on your g-spot. You watch as his necklace swings back and forth in your face, his whimpers and quiet groans slowly becoming louder than the sounds of your wet pussy and his balls slapping against your taint.

“Jungkook..!” You desperately cling to his shoulders and hug his body close to yours, “Right there—don’t stop baby, please,” you whine amidst his moaning.

“Not gonna stop baby,” he slurs out, “gettin’ so close, gonna make it so messy baby.” He leans down to hide his face in your neck, hugging you tight while he grinds his cock deep in figures of eights.

A long moan leaves you from the change of angle, you rake your nails down his back from the intense pleasure he’s giving you. You’re getting so close again with the way your pussy throbs and clenches tight. Jungkook doesn’t sound like he’s far behind either with the way he grinds into you faster and faster.

“Mm..!” You throw your head back and grit your teeth, “C-Coming..!” Jungkook reaches down swiftly to rub his thumb over your clit rapidly, a loud cry of surprise leaves you as your thighs quake, “Jungkook!” You sob out as your cunt throbs. A wave of heat hits you all over as you’re left shaking in the aftermath of your second orgasm.

Jungkook shows mercy by stopping his torture on your throbbing clit, but he chases after his own pleasure with a series of hard thrusts. His moans rise in volume until he shouts with pleasure when his own orgasm hits him, he grinds in deep and slow to ensure every last drop of his cum stays in your ruined pussy.

“Oh fuck..” He pants out as he comes to a stop, “Shit..” He swallows harshly and looks down between you two to admire the way your cunt looks so shiny covered in slick etc. “You okay baby?” He smacks his lips tiredly. When you nod back at him he cups your face gently, “Stay here, ‘m gonna go get some water and see if Jimin will let us crash here.” He kisses your forehead.

“Love you.” You softly reply and curl up into a tiny ball when he gets off of you.

“Love you too mamas.” He replies back as he re-dresses and heads out, “Best birthday gift ever.” He grins lazily while walking out after locking the door behind him.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

3K notes · View notes

nasikasakura · 2 years

Photo

Christmas in July. Request from Sonatay on YouTube. https://youtu.be/FUGq9WzHOIQ?t=22907

1 note · View note

hitomisuzuya · 10 months

Text

Vision play with Electro. Comfort smut. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Fingering. Fingersucking. Degradation. Smutty appreciation for Scaramouche's fingers and his undoubtedly god tier tongue.

a/n: Just a few more weeks to go until July is over. I plan on writing something for Childe's birthday on the 20th.

Scaramouche may not always be the best as processing his own emotions, but he was completely in tune with yours. He knew when you were stressed. So he liked to take care of you in the way that you took care of him.

He didn't need to breathe, and he more than took full advantage of that. Spending hours between your thighs, licking and sucking on your cunt like a starved dog, relentlessly making you squirt on his tongue and fingers over and over again.

Scaramouche teased and swirled the tip of his tongue on your clit. "Scara, please lick me," You whimpered, squirming on the bed, your clit throbbing against his tongue. You reached down, spreading your dripping folds for him.

Smirking up at you, he batted your hand away. "So eager, what a fucking slut," He flicked kitten licks on your clit. "I love seeing you squirm for me, now I want to hear you moan."

Scaramouche had this unique ability of imbuing Electro onto his tongue, keening a high pitched moan from your throat when you felt Electro hum against your clit.

He groaned in bliss when you pressed his face on your cunt, holding it against his mouth when you bucked your hips up seeking more friction from his tongue. Pushing your hips back down on the bed, he latched his lips onto your clit to suck on it, pushing two fingers inside of you.

You cried out when he hooked his fingers on your sweet spot, sending soft shocks of Electro against it. "Scara, I am gonna-" He cut you off with a harsh suck on your clit.

"You are going to what, squirt all over my fingers like a total whore?" Scaramouche taunted, swirling his tongue, sending stronger bolts of Electro on your clit. He always enjoyed watching your cheeks flush from his degradation. "You'll pass out before you stop cumming for me, slut."

He mercilessly teased his fingers on sweet spot, making you squirt on his fingers. His tongue laved at your clit, soaking in every sob of pleasure while you bucked your hips up.

"Clean your mess," Sitting up, Scaramouche pulled his fingers out of you, and pushed them into your mouth. Mewling happily, you flicked your tongue against his knuckles, opening your mouth eagerly for him. You nuzzled your cheek against his wrist, sucking on his fingers.

He pumped them in and out of your mouth, making you choke on them. Pressing down on your tongue, he inserted a third finger when you coughed. You moaned around his fingers when he started rubbing your clit, pinching and rolling it between the pads of his fingers.

Drool pooled from the corners of your mouth, your body twitching in pleasure as you writhed on the bed. "Cum again for me, whore. Your body is begging for it," Scaramouche pulled his fingers out of your mouth, returning his tongue onto your cunt.

"More, please more," You babbled, crying out when he abruptly shocked your sweet spot with his fingers. He sucked wetly on your clit, coaxing you to cum screaming on his fingers.

Licking down your cunt, he pushed his tongue inside of you, swirling his tongue between your walls to help you chase your high. He drank in your fucked out expression, vibrating a purr of approval on your clit.

Crawling up your body, Scaramouche kissed you, making you taste him on his mouth, grinding his throbbing cock between your legs. "I'm going to fuck you dumber on my cock now. Take all of it like a good girl, and cry louder for me."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n

1K notes · View notes

scarletlizzard · 4 months

Text

Pool Party

Pairings: milf!wanda x fem!reader

Tags, Minors DNI: smut, fluff, yearning, age gap, fingering, little choking, dom!wanda

Summary: You and Wanda have been flirting and teasing each other since the day you met. Or, at a pool party, you're not getting enough of Wandas attention.

Wanda is one of your moms best friends. She lives across the street with her two kids, who she shares custody with her ex-husband. When she first moved in across the street it started off innocently. Your mom and you going over and helping them move in, bringing them homemade chocolate chip cookies. You even watched the twins while your mom and Wanda went out with other friends or if Wanda was running late from work.

But the looks. Wanda had a way of giving you very specific looks. Always watching you and every single move you took.

Since the first moment Wanda laid eyes on you, she was completely enamored. She watched you walk over that hot June day in shorts and tank top, beads of sweat dripping down your chest as you offered your help. The way you gave her the most innocent eyes when the two of you found yourselves alone and your mom was in the other room.

Your small town southern accent drove her crazy. She constantly asked you questions just so she could hear you talk. "You're so adorable when you say that." Was something you were used to hearing from Wanda.

As time went on the looks turned into touches.

At first, it was small, fleeting moments where her fingers would brush against your arm. The feeling of her cool metal rings on your skin, causing goosebumps to rise. Sitting next to each other on the couch, watching a movie after the boys had gone to bed, she let her hand drift down to rest on your thigh. She rubbed small circles with her thumb. Saying goodnight to you after babysitting the boys and sending you home with a kiss on the cheek, too close to your lips. Everything about Wanda Maximoff invaded your senses, and you both knew it was wrong.

But neither one of you did a thing about it.

"Harmless flirting," you told your best friend one day. It was an exceptionally hot July day, a year after the Maximoffs had moved across the street. Your mom decided to throw a pool party for the neighbors and some close friends. Currently, you were laid out on a lounge chair in your best-looking swimsuit, crimson red, which you know is Wandas favorite color. Next to you was Kate, laughing and shaking her head at your naivety.

"Oh, Y/N.. you guys should just fuck and get it over with. You'd feel so much better, get all that stress out. Plus, Ms. Maximoff is hot. I'd beg to be with a woman like that." Kate looks through her sunglasses across the yard where Wanda stood talking to your mom and a few other neighbors. "And, she's totally into you. There hasn't been a moment her eyes haven't been on you today."

It was true, Wanda had been watching you closely the entire time. She was at the point where she didn't even care if it was obvious, she couldn't stop staring at that little fucking red bikini you had on. She knew you had worn it for her, and she was on the verge of showing her cards in front of everyone. To try to keep her cool she turned her back on you as you talked to Kate. You frown at her sudden movements.

You had become obsessed with wanting Wandas attention. You were constantly trying to make sure her eyes stayed on you. You wanted her thoughts to be filled with the idea of you. So at this, you felt as if her attention was gone, onto the next.

Fine.

You huff and stand from the chair, grabbing a bottle of sunscreen from the table and looking around the yard. "What are you doi-" Kates words are cut off as you begin to call Buckys name, waving at him. Kate sighs and leans back against the chair, saying, "This should be good," as she watches you adjust your swimsuit.

Everyone knew that Bucky had a thing for you. He always had, ever since freshman year of high school. There were a few kisses, 2 or 3 school dances, many dates, and even a little groping between the two of you throughout the years. Bucky was great and nice and hot, but only you knew the real reason why things would never work out with him.

Bucky smiles at the sound of your voice, which also catches the attention of Wanda again. You smile to yourself as you notice her looking, and you make your way over to Bucky. She watches from across the yard with a closed fist by her side as you strut over to him, standing there soaking wet in his swim trunks. You rest your hand on his arm as you lean up and whisper something in his ear. He smirks and nods, letting out a chuckle as you hand him the bottle of sunscreen.

"God, you look great... it's been too long since we've hung out, doll," Bucky says as you sit in front of him, his hands spreading the cold white sunscreen onto your shoulders and down your back. You smile back at him and return to face forward, making eye contact with Wanda. Her emerald eyes burned into yours as she slowly tilted her head to the side. You swallowed hard as she did and removed your gaze from her. You had seen the head tilt before, but never directed at you, and you would be lying if you said it didn't scare you a little.

"I know, things have just been so crazy since we graduated.. I miss you more than I thought I would," you tease him, making him laugh.

"Uh huh.. I'm sure you did. Bet you really missed this," he says with a smirk on his face before picking you up in his arms and walking to the pool. You let out a playful scream, banging your arms against his chest, but his arms are tight around you. "Bucky no!" You manage to get out before he's throwing you into the water, jumping in right after you and lifting you again in his arms. You're both laughing now as he holds you and pulls you close, "It's definitely working." He whispers in your ear.

"Oh good! I've missed James around the house. I always thought those two would be married one day.. fingers crossed, maybe they've still got a chance," your mom says aloud to Wanda, sipping her wine and smiling at the sight of her daughter in the pool. Wanda, on the other hand, was trying to compose herself, failing miserable. "Are you okay, Wanda?" She asks her neighbor whose face is bright red, staring daggers at the boy in the pool. Wanda gives a small smile, downing the rest of her drink.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine! I think I'm gonna grab another drink," Wanda says and nods to your mom. She stands for a moment, making eye contact with you again. Your face burns at the stern expression she gives you, and you clear your throat as you watch her walk inside.

"I'll be right back," you say to Bucky, who chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'm sure you will, Y/N.."

After getting out of the pool, you wrap a towel around your wet body, walking into the empty house. Besides a certain redhead you know was waiting for you. Many times, Wanda had been over to your house, sneaking up to your bedroom when she could get away. It was bold and exciting, the feeling of being caught any second. You think back to one of the times she had come up.

"I brought you something," Wanda smiles at you after you had let her in, shutting the door behind her.

"For me?" You ask, looking curiously at her hands behind her back. She reveals a book in her hands, but not just any book. A first edition, signed copy of your favorite book. "Wanda! I- you shouldn't have!" You look at her in disbelief, shaking your head, but she puts the book in your hands and sits on the bed next to you.

"You've done so much for me and the twins lately. You deserve it, really.." she says softly, a warm smile on her face as she watches you flip through the pages. You remember thinking Wanda was so thoughtful, so caring that she remembered when you told her this was your favorite book. You turn to face her, eyes bright and a smile so wide, you didn't realize how close the two of you were.

That was the first time Wanda Maximoff had kissed you.

There had been many other moments after that where you and Wanda had snuck off for a private kiss, a heated makeout session. It never went further than that, and none of them were ever as sweet as that first one.

So you walk up the stairs a step at a time, resting your hand on the doorknob to your room and opening it up. Wanda stood there with her fire red hair down past her shoulders, a loose shirt, and shorts concealing her swimsuit underneath. You expected an angry look on her face, but all she did was tilt her head, for the second time today. That was all it took for you to shut the door behind you.

In three steps, Wanda was towering over you, just an inch away from her body touching yours. Her hands went to your towel, making it drop from your body. She lets her fingers slowly move up your arm as she leans her head down closer to your face. "Did you wear this for me, detka?" You bite your lip, hearing her words come out thick in her sokovian accent.

"Yes.." is all you can mutter out, staring up at her with those innocent eyes. Wanda hums, taking another step so your back is pressed against the door. Helpless and trapped between her and the hard surface.

"Yet you let that boy put his hands all over you." Wanda practically spat, facial expression finally showing the truth, she was angry. Jealous. You reach your arms up to rest your hands on her shoulders, rubbing your thumbs softly against her.

"What do you care? What did you call this? Harmless flirting," you spit back, a smirk on your face. "So I assume that means I can do whatever..." You lean up on your tip toes to whisper in her ear, letting your lips rub against the soft skin there. "... or whoever I want." You use your hands to push her away, moving away from the door and from her. She scoffs and lets you walk past her before she grabs your wrist.

"Is that what you think? No.. no, I don't think so," Wanda says and spins you around to see her green eyes darkening as they rake over your body. She walks until the back of your legs hit your bed and she pushes you down onto the mattress. You gasp at the sudden movement, feeling her lift you further up the bed before crawling on top of you. "Oh sweetheart.. I'm going to ruin you."

You can't help the lewd sound that escapes from the back of your throat at her words, and you feel her lips connect to your neck. Your hands find themselves on her back, shoulders, anywhere you can grip onto her. You wanted her as close as possible to you. She begins to suck softly, biting down harshly as she does. Wanda does this over your exposed neck and collarbone, leaving little purple marks each time. You feel one of her hands begin to grope your body, removing your top to reveal your breasts.

"Detka.. You're so pretty for me.. fucking perfect tits," she mutters out, eyes glued to your chest before she's kissing them and sucking on your nipples. "So fucking perfect.." she sighs as she begins to kiss down your stomach. Your breathing becomes harder and she looks up to you with reassuring eyes.

Yes, Wanda Maximoff wanted to ruin you, wreck you. You had teased her beyond usual today, and she needed to show you who she belonged to. But this was also her first time seeing you like this, you letting her touch you, so she also needed to know you were okay. She was also restricted by time. Anyone could come up at any moment and catch the two of you. The thought alone made you crave Wandas touch, immediately.

"You, okay baby? Huh? What do you want, detka?" Wanda spoke between kisses, her fingers running over the top of your bottoms. As you stare down at her, you feel nothing but warmth and comfort. "I want you, Wands.." Your face heats up as you verbally announce it, watching her mouth form into a smirk. She's quick to relieve you from your bottoms, and you're finally bare for her to see.

"Tsk, tsk.. look how wet you are, sweetheart. Who made you this way?" She asks with a tilt of her head, fingers running along your slick folds.

"You, Wanda.. only you," you sigh out, gripping onto the sheets for support. She hums in approval at your words, sticking two fingers inside of you without warning. Her other hand moves to cover your mouth before you can let out any more moans as she continues to rapidly move her fingers in and out of you.

"That's it, detka. Be a good girl for me, huh? I'll fuck you properly later, but for right now you're going to take my fingers," all you can manage is a small nod as her slender fingers curl inside you, hitting your g spot. "So perfect for me, fuck I've been wanting to do this for so long now. I bet you taste so good.." Wanda groans out and bites her lip, squeezing her hand tight against your mouth.

Between Wandas praise and dirty whispers, and the way her fingers were hitting that sweet spot over and over again, you were already on the verge of an orgasm. Wanda watched you squirm underneath her, thinking of all the different ways she would have you now that she could touch you. Her words were true. She had been thinking and literally dreaming of this moment for what seemed like forever.

"I feel your little pussy squeezing around my fingers, detka. Are you going to cum for me?" She speaks lowly, removing her hand from your mouth. A small moan escapes as you manage out in a hushed voice, "Yes, Wands.. fuck I need to cum.."

"That's right, sweetheart.. tell me who you belong to. Tell me who's making you feel so good.."

"You, Wanda! Oh fuck... I belong to you," you whimper, feeling her hand wrap around your throat. You feel her fingers squeeze softly, just enough to bring you even more pleasure.

"Cum for me, detka.. be a good girl and let go.." Wanda groans at the sight of you, the feeling of your wet cunt squeezing around her two fingers.

Your legs begin to tremble, and she smirks as her hand becomes wetter. "That's it, baby... good girl.. just like that.." She talks you through your orgasm, slowing the pace of her fingers until your moans reside and you're left panting on the bed. Wanda moves her hand from around your throat first, then her other from inside you.

Your lips part as you watch her put her two fingers, wet with your own slick, into her mouth. Wanda moans at the taste and closes her eyes shut as she cleans her digits sinfully. "You taste so good, Y/N.." She opens her eyes and smirks down at your surprised expression, then crawls on top of you. Wanda closes the gap between the two of you and kisses you softly.

The kiss is wet and sloppy, your mind still trying to keep up with what just happened, including the multiple times Wanda made you say you belonged to her. Suddenly, a knock at the door causes you both to jump with a gasp.

"Uh.. Y/N? Your mom is looking for you.. just um... fyi.." Kates voice sounds, and you sigh in relief, eyeing Wanda as she stands in front of the mirror trying to freshen herself up. You follow suit and stand up, taking the top of your bikini as Wanda hands it to you.

"Thanks, Kate, I'll be right down!" You shout back through the door, hearing her steps head down the stairs. You give Wanda an apologetic smile, but all she does is walk behind you. Her fingers take the strings of your top, tying it in a tight knot behind your back.

"I meant everything I said. You belong to me," her voice is stern as she meets your eyes in the mirror, her index finger trailing along the marks she left on you, while her other hand rests on your hip. "So that James boy..." she trails off, giving you a confused look at the smile on your face. You let out a small laugh and turn around, bringing your hands up to wrap around her neck.

"Bucky, James, ... is gay," you say and bite your lip, watching for Wandas reaction. Her shoulders relax, and she shakes her head, a laugh leaving her lips.

"But your mom said you two used to.."

"In high school, we kind of made it seem like we were a thing to throw everyone off. He's got a boyfriend now, in New York. I know it was wrong, but.. I just wanted to have all of your attention." Your fingers weave into her hair, your voice becoming quiet at the end of your sentence. Wanda hooks a finger under your chin to make you look up at her.

"You don't have to do anything to get my attention, sweetheart. You always have it, all the time. You always have." She smiles at you, scrunching her nose up in the most adorable way. You giggle at the sight, a sound that fills Wandas chest with warmth. "Now go downstairs before your mother comes up here, okay?"

You nod, leaning up to press your lips to hers. You loved kissing Wanda.. her kisses were all taking. When she kissed you for the first time, you knew you would never belong to anyone else.

"Well?" Kate asks, lifting an eyebrow as you stand next to her.

"Well, what?" You sip your drink.

"You feel better now, don't you?" You can practically hear the smirk on her face, but you don't look to find out if it's there. Instead, you keep your eyes on the older redhead across the yard, who's already gazing back at you.

~~~~~

Hey guys, this is the first story I'm putting out here! Any thoughts or comments are greatly appreciated, or any ideas you have, I'm open to submissions. Thanks!

#wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x fem!reader #marvel one shot #bucky barnes #kate bishop #scarletlizzard writes

908 notes · View notes