#this movie has me ever so slightly on edge at all times | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smutstevington · 8 months

Text

Resensitized | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You need a place to move in, and your new friend has a spare room. Turns out, he's a porn star, and now you can't stop thinking about him. What ever will you do?

Part 2 here and part 3 here :)

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: MINORS DNI PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING, smut, Pornstar!Eddie x fem reader (no defining characteristics or use of y/n), modern day, friends to lovers...kind of? Fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, the knee thing™️, Eddie is a soft dom but also a simp, reader is his exception, and they were roommates(!)

A/N: I'm baaaaack! I was randomly inspired by this concept and couldn't stop thinking about it until it was done. Please know I wrote this with as much respect to sex work as I could, but there might be some inaccuracies just because I'm not too familiar with the industry nowadays. Until next time! xx

-------------------

You met Eddie at a party. He was a friend of a friend’s plus one, so he didn’t really know anybody, and you noticed nobody was talking to him, so you went over there and struck up a conversation.

Eddie was sweet. Eddie was goofy. Eddie was a little rough around the edges, but ultimately gave you good vibes. You ended up talking to him for quite a while, and when the night came to an end, you realized you didn’t want to stop talking to him.

It wasn’t, like, a crush thing - although, he was handsome and definitely crush material - it was more that it was hard making friends as an adult, and you liked being around him. So many times, you’d met people and left them just as fast, and you didn’t want that to happen with Eddie.

You gave him your Instagram, which he followed, and then you requested to follow him back, which he accepted.

You didn’t talk much for a month or two. He didn’t really post anything, but would comment or react to your posts and stories. Most often, you complained about your living situation - your landlord and your roommates were awful, and eventually your lease came to an end. You jokingly posted - “who’s gonna help me find a new apartment?”

Eddie replied - I don’t know if you’d be interested, but I might be able to help.

It turned out that Eddie had a room vacant in his two-bedroom apartment. The idea seemed kind of out there at first, but you realized it wasn’t much different than searching for roommates online. Besides, this was safer, since you knew Eddie already, and you couldn’t afford an apartment by yourself, so…

You went over to look at his place, and holy shit. It was incredible there. Clean, although slightly cluttered with his various belongings - movie posters, music, video games, and the like. Also, the rent he was asking for was absurdly low. It felt like a no-brainer.

“Eddie, this is - I mean, this is perfect,” you told him. He grinned.

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “Uhh, there’s just one thing I feel like I should tell you before you move in.”

“What is it?” you asked. Suddenly, you saw Eddie get nervous, and you couldn’t possibly predict what would warrant that reaction. He took a deep breath.

“Maybe you already know, but it feels like you don’t know? So I just - ugh. If you don’t know, I think I gotta tell you.” You stared at him, confused.

“Eddie, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

He smirked slightly, then sighed as his hands fell to his sides.

“I…do…porn?” he said at last. You stared at him blankly as you processed this.

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate,” you replied. “Like OnlyFans?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “Look, I - I’ve done it for a few years, and I guess I’m kinda popular. It’s why a lot of the time, people stay away from me, because it puts them off. Or, they’re embarrassed about recognizing me, which I guess I understand. But anyway, that’s why I was surprised you never said anything or asked me about it. Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing you had no idea.”

Huh.

“I…really didn’t.”

It wasn’t that you were judging him - not at all - but living with someone who did that sort of thing brought up all kinds of questions. Eddie’s anxiety returned.

“Ah, shit. That ruined everything, didn’t it?” He ran his hands through his hair. “I just - It’s how I make money, but it’s not my whole life or anything. But I felt like you should at least know about it if you were gonna live with me.”

“Do you do any of it here?” you asked. Eddie shrugged.

“Sometimes.”

You nodded slowly.

“Like, in the living room or just your room?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to assess how you felt through your line of questioning.

“Uhh - my room. I mean, I guess there was one time on the couch, but for the record I’ve gotten a new couch since then. Oh, and if you move in and don’t want me filming anything here, I won’t. Not even solo stuff. Shit. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, I just have a pretty casual view on sex and I kind of forget that not everybody -”

“I think I’m okay with this,” you decided.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You looked around the beautiful apartment that would save you a crap ton of money, and you realized you couldn't pass this up. Besides, you weren’t a prude. “My last roommates had loud sex all the time, and our walls were so thin it felt like I was intruding, somehow.” Eddie laughed, his anxiety easing slightly. “Plus, I don’t care what you do. I bet it’s good money. As long as I’m not in any of the videos, we’re good to go.”

“Wow,” he responded, stunned. “I honestly didn’t expect you to be so cool about it.” You shrugged.

“Just don’t eat my food and we should be fine,” you concluded.

“Deal,” he replied. You shook his hand, and thus began your time as Eddie Munson’s roommate.

Ohhhh, this was a mistake.

Living with Eddie was a total breeze for the first two months. He was respectful and didn’t talk about work at all unless you asked him about it, which you didn’t. You both were pretty busy people so you didn’t even see each other that often.

But then, two months in, you got curious and watched one of his videos.

Holy. Shit.

First of all, you couldn’t believe you’d never stumbled across him before in your searches, because he was, like, really popular. He’d undersold himself, for sure. Although, you didn’t watch porn that often (you preferred reading it or listening to it), because usually there was something off about it. Like, the women felt like they were acting, or they weren’t even trying to hide that they were acting and were really bad at it, or the dirty talk was weird, etc etc.

Eddie’s videos were not like that.

(Yeah, after the first one you watched a few more).

Look, the man knew what he was doing. He had chemistry with everyone, and something about it was captivating. It’s not like you were getting off to them - that would have been weird - but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you the fuck on.

He hadn’t been lying either about the locations. None of the videos you’d watched were recorded at the apartment.

You weren’t sure if you would have cared if they had been, though. Like, as long as any shared furniture was cleaned after, it wasn’t a huge deal, right? Pretty much every couch anywhere you go has been used for sex at some point. So, this wasn’t much different.

Anyway, watching Eddie’s videos had been a mistake, because now when you saw him in the morning, pouring himself a cup of coffee in his robe, you knew what he looked like naked.

Fuck.

“Morning,” he said casually. “Want some?” You nodded, and then he took another mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it for you. When you went to the kitchen counter to grab it from him, his knuckles brushed yours, and you jumped a little at the touch. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. You went to the fridge and took the creamer from the shelf, then topped off your coffee with it.

“How’d you sleep?” you asked.

“Good,” he replied. “Oh, so I’m going to the grocery store in a bit. You need anything?” You took a sip of your coffee before answering.

“Uhhh, yeah, but I was actually planning on going myself,” you said.

“We could go together,” he suggested.

You took another sip of coffee as a way to stall, even though it was too hot. You had no reason from his perspective to say no - the two of you had gone on errands together a few times, and it had been fine. Besides, you legitimately had to go to the grocery store, so if you said no and went later it would just look suspicious.

”Sounds good,” you agreed with a smile. He smiled back, then nodded.

“Great, just let me know when you’re ready.”

You finished your coffee in your room, because being around him was making you nervous. It was so dumb, feeling this way. Nothing had changed. You were the same people you’d been yesterday. Watching that video was an incredibly poor choice, but at the same time, how were you supposed to refrain? You lived with a guy who was famous for getting women off. You wondered how you hadn’t known any of this when you’d first met him, but then pieces came together. The reason he was alone at the party. Why his Instagram was private. Why he didn’t have a roommate.

When you agreed to move in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t be weird about it, and now here you were, hiding in your room because you were too awkward to maintain small talk with your roommate.

Eventually, you got dressed and psyched yourself up for what was to come. You just had to get those videos out of your mind, that’s all.

Easy enough, right?

Wrong!

“Did you listen to the song I sent you yesterday?” he asked as you walked to the car.

“Uh, no, not yet,” you replied. He clutched his heart as if you had broken it, then laughed.

“Okay, well then I guess I know what we’re listening to on the way.”

Once again, all of this should have been easy like it always was. But you couldn’t stop staring at his hands on the steering wheel, the rings on his fingers, and - God forbid - his lips. And his eyes? Forget it.

“Good song,” you said, staring straight ahead at the road.

“Of course it is, I picked it out,” he teased. You saw him glance at you in your peripheral vision. “Everything okay? You’re quiet today.”

“Everything’s fine,” you blurted out, maybe too quickly to be convincing.

“Ooookay,” he responded. “Well, I don’t believe you, but you can keep your secrets.”

You remained slightly awkward and flustered around him, particularly any time he touched you. He’d tap you on the shoulder to get your attention, or reach across you to grab a bunch of bananas that you were standing in front of, and it came to a point where you told him you had to go off on your own to grab something just because you knew you were totally giving yourself away. But after a few more minutes to yourself in the chips aisle, you felt relatively normal again.

Disaster only really struck on the way home.

“So, this tattoo place on the right,” he said. “That’s where I usually go. The guy who works there is incredible. His designs are sick as hell.”

“How many do you have?” you asked. He scrunched his eyebrows as he thought about it.

“I guess it depends on what you’d count as one,” he replied. “Like, I have almost a half-sleeve on my right arm, but I didn’t get it all done at once.”

“Count them however you’d like.” He thought about it some more, then shrugged.

“I have a lot of them, and I always want more.”

“I’ve heard it’s addictive,” you replied. “So, what would you get next?”

“I’m thinking about adding to the one on my thigh,” he answered.

“The witch?” you asked. He raised his eyebrows. The tattoo on his thigh was pretty iconic, actually. It was a woman on a broomstick with her tits out. Not something you would ever personally get, but Eddie pulled it off. “Are you going to give her a friend? Or a bra?”

Eddie snorted laughing, then covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle it. It didn’t work, and he burst into laughter again.

“Come on, my joke wasn’t that funny,” you said, rolling your eyes. Eddie’s laughter finally faded enough for him to explain.

“I never told you what the tattoo was,” he informed you. Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake.

“I - um -”

“That’s what’s going on! You looked me up!” he exclaimed. Despite your absolute humiliation, he seemed to only find it amusing. “Don’t get all shy about it. It’s fine. I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.”

“Can we not talk about it?” you asked, trying to awkwardly laugh with him but mostly wishing you were six feet underground.

“Whatever you want, roomie,” he replied with a grin. “I’m just glad I didn’t do anything wrong.” You bit your lip, then released it.

“No, you did pretty much everything exactly right,” you responded, deciding to lean into the awkward situation. Eddie licked his lips and smirked.

“Good to hear,” he said, smug. He pulled into your apartment complex, parked the car, and took the keys from the ignition. You felt like you couldn’t breathe in there, so you rushed out of the car and made a beeline for your front door as soon as you were able. He caught up as you worked the lock open, and you could feel his eyes on your shaking hands. “You know, you’re cute when you blush,” he said.

The door unlocked and you pushed it open, but it’s not like the apartment you shared with him was going to be any less charged. You tried to continue acting less nervous than you were.

“Oh, you’re flirting with me now?” you teased, leaving your keys on the counter. His voice continued behind you.

“I flirt with everyone,” he said. “Sorry, I’ll reel it in. Just, we were talking about -”

“No, I know,” you interrupted. You turned around, deciding to face this situation head on, since you were already knee-deep in it anyway. “Okay, let’s talk about it.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“About what I do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Alright. What do you wanna know?”

You took a deep breath and asked something that you’d been wondering for the last two months.

“Is it weird, knowing that most people you know have seen you naked?”

Eddie didn’t seem fazed by the question in the slightest - not that you expected him to be. He shrugged.

“I like the way I look,” he replied. “It actually doesn’t bother me at all.” You clicked your tongue to your teeth and asked another question.

“Does anything about it bother you?” To your surprise, he took the question seriously, taking his time as he came up with a response.

“It definitely feels like I live in a different world a lot of the time,” he answered. “Like, I go to work, I meet the person I’m supposed to fuck, and then I do whatever I gotta do to get them off. That’s all it is, really. After a while, it just feels like going through the motions. The excitement isn’t really there anymore. On the other hand, I make a shit ton of money to have sex with beautiful people, so…”

You tried to ignore the way the heat rose to your cheeks as he talked about work. From what you’d seen, it was clear that not one person had faked their enjoyment for him. Of course, it made you a little curious what it would be like, but not curious enough to do anything about it.

At least, not yet.

“You’ve never, like, caught feelings?” you asked. “Or maybe gotten coffee with one of them? Wait, do you ever have sex off camera?”

“Wooow, you’ve really been thinking about this, huh?” he teased, jumping up to sit on the counter beside you. Being next to him was starting to feel comfortable again, now that you were speaking freely. “Uhh, well for starters, I don’t have sex off-camera very often, honestly. My job doesn’t make it that easy to date. And yeah, I’ve met up with partners after if I feel like we’d get along, but I don’t know. It always feels more like friendship than anything else.” You cocked your head curiously.

“But you had sex with them,” you pointed out, confused.

“You’ve never fucked one of your friends before?” he asked. You shook your head. “Oh. Well, like I said, my perception of this kind of thing is a little skewed.”

You nodded slowly, then realized those were all of your main questions. Talking about it actually did make things a whole lot better.

“Thank you for being so open about it,” you told him.

“Thank you for sticking around,” he replied. “And seriously, you can ask me anything. Or, we can never talk about it again. Up to you.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile. “I’ll let you know.”

He went off to do his thing and you did yours, and that was that. Things went back to normal again, more or less - at least for another week.

The problem was, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. When you were trying to sleep at night, your curiosity coursed through you to search his name again, and it became increasingly difficult not to succumb to it. You didn’t want to cross that line, though. It felt like a necessary boundary to have.

Instead, you did what you usually did. You read, you listened, you pictured things in your head.

Your mind always wandered to your roommate anyway.

One night, Eddie had left, and he was supposed to be gone until morning. You used it as an opportunity to walk around naked, watch romantic comedies on the couch, and listen to music he’d hate as loudly as you wanted. It was glorious.

You were in your room dancing in a t-shirt and underwear, and it was turning out to be an excellent night. Eventually, your friend called, so you chatted with her for a bit on speaker phone as you put away your laundry. Naturally, Eddie came up.

“Okay,” she said. “There’s a really simple solution here, and it’s to fuck your hot Sex-God of a roommate.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not simple, and it’s not a solution,” you replied. “And our relationship isn’t like that. I can’t believe you looked him up.”

“Of course I looked him up! One of us had to!” your friend shouted back. “And, can I just say - damn.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you responded with a sigh. “I’m just trying to be…respectful.”

“It sounds like he doesn’t care at all,” your friend noted. “But I get it, I guess. You’re a lot stronger than I’ll ever be.” You laughed.

“Thank you, I think I deserve a medal for going through this while also not having had sex in six months.”

“Absolutely,” your friend agreed. “Alright, girlie, I’m headed to bed. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up the phone and hung a few sweaters up in your closet, then walked into the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. The problem was, when you got there, you realized that Eddie had beat you to it.

“Want something?” he asked, bent over into the fridge.

“Fuck!” you yelled, jumping back. “What are you -? Why are you - ? When did you -?” Eddie laughed and grabbed two beers from the fridge, then closed the door and handed you one.

“Relax,” he said. “My plans fell through so I came home early. I like your pants, by the way.” You looked down at yourself to realize you weren’t wearing any. You chuckled, then pushed him away from you.

“Dick,” you said, cracking the can open. He did the same, and then you clinked your beers together before each taking a sip. “Thank god I’m wearing some clothes. I wasn’t a few hours ago.”

“That’s hot,” he teased.

“Shut up.” You turned to go back to your room so you could put real pajamas on, and were confused when he followed you in.

“Your friend has a point by the way,” Eddie said. You froze in your tracks, then pivoted to face him.

“What?” you asked, your stomach dropping to the floor. “Wait, how much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Uhhh, well I definitely heard that whole last part about me,” he replied. “Six months, by the way? I agree, you do deserve an award for that.”

Jesus Christ.

“Oh my God I have to move out,” you said. Eddie laughed, then pulled you closer to him by the wrist. You felt your breath hitch at being so close to him. Your eyes met his, and you immediately felt hypnotized.

“Listen,” he said, his grip on your wrist burning into your skin. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off, but six months is a long time, and I could help out if you wanted.”

“Eddie, are you seriously suggesting…?” The corner of his lip twitched up slightly.

“It wouldn’t mean anything, obviously. I just know you’re curious, and since you’re going through a dry spell or whatever I could be of service. And then it would be out of the way, and you could move on.”

You stared at him, having a million thoughts at once.

Yes, you wanted that very much. The thought of it alone was already making your core ache and throb for him. You knew he would blow your mind, and it had been so long…

Then again, you also knew it was a horrible idea. You both lived together, and having sex would complicate things. Most of all, you knew that - despite what he was saying - it would mean something, and you wouldn’t move on. He could, but you couldn’t. That’s not how it worked for you.

“I can’t,” you said. He nodded and dropped your hand.

“Alright,” he replied casually. “Then you should go fuck someone else so you stop thinking about me.”

“I’m not thinking about -”

“Good night,” he smirked.

He left your room, and you heard him walk to his own room and shut the door.

He was probably right. You needed to break your dry spell. So, you did what any sensible person would do and re-downloaded Tinder. By the following night, you’d found a suitable guy to hook up with.

You invited him to your apartment instead of going to his, because it felt safer. And Eddie unshockingly had no problems with it, so that wasn’t an issue. He said he was going to stay in his room and listen to music, and to just text him when you were done.

So…you did that.

The sex was bad. Like, remarkably bad. The man clearly had relied on his good looks and big dick and felt like that was enough. The worst part was that he thought he was nailing it the whole time. He was only over for about 45 minutes total, after which you told him you had to get to bed. He seemed disappointed, but also he’d just had sex so he wasn’t too bummed about it.

You texted Eddie, and within a few minutes you heard his door open and his footsteps approaching your room from down the hall.

“Damn, he’s gone already?” he teased, staring out the window to see your Tinder hook-up driving away. “That’s a shame. I wanted to meet the man that caused you to do the worst fake orgasm sounds I’ve ever heard.”

“Eddie!” you yelled, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself. “You said you wouldn’t listen!”

“I got curious! Sue me!” he shouted back. “Now we’re even. Curiosity got the best of both of us.”

You stared at him for a moment, then realized he was right. You sighed.

“Fine,” you said. “Thanks for recommending I do that, by the way. Now my body count is higher and my dignity is shattered.” Eddie laughed.

“Body counts are bullshit anyway,” he replied. “Sorry he couldn’t get you there.”

“Guys usually can’t,” you told him. Which was true - you mainly could only come using toys, and most guys seemed intimidated at the idea of using them. Like it was emasculating or something.

“I bet I could,” Eddie said with a smirk.

“I bet you could, too,” you agreed. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Have fun,” he teased. You rolled your eyes and made your way to the bathroom.

Showering did clear your mind a bit, but made you no less sexually frustrated. You tried to touch yourself, but weren’t getting anywhere, so you just got yourself clean instead. You put a fresh pair of underwear on and wrapped your robe around yourself, then headed back to your room.

Eddie was right beside your door - leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He eyed you up and down, then took a step towards you.

“I have a question,” he said.

“Um, okay.”

“Have you ever gotten off to my videos?”

He asked it so casually, you needed a minute to even comprehend what he was saying, and even longer to realize he wasn’t kidding.

“Eddie, what the hell?” you replied. You tried to maintain your composure, but your attempts were futile. Especially when he looked at you like that.

“I’ve just been wondering,” he continued. “Curiosity, that’s all.” You swallowed.

“Not to any of your videos,” you answered.

“To the thought of me?”

Yes. Not intentionally, but yes.

Your breathing became shaky, his words enough to get you worked up again.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice soft.

“I’m helping you out,” he responded. “Salvaging your night.” He hooked his finger into the tie around your waist, then tugged you even closer to him. “I mean, if you want me to. The offer is there.”

Fuck it. You were tired of fighting your attraction to him. You nodded.

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s just get it over with.” He smiled. “How do we start? Should I lie down? Is there anything off limits? What do I-”

“Don’t think about it,” he said, answering your line of questioning by silencing you. “Get on the bed.” He let go of you so you could walk into your room and follow his orders. You watched him rub his hands together and crack his knuckles as if he was getting ready to go to work - which made sense, all things considered. Then, he followed your footsteps to your bed and made his way towards you until he was settled beside you.

His hand trailed up your body until it settled in your hair. He gripped it tightly so he could angle your head to the side, then leaned over and pressed light kisses to your neck that sent shivers down your spine.

“Do you like things on the gentle side or more rough?” he asked against your skin.

“Healthy mix of both,” you answered. He hummed in approval, then licked a stripe up your neck until his lips were to your ear.

“Talk to me during, okay?” he said. “Tell me what you want.”

Okay, this was officially worth it no matter the consequences.

“I like what you’re doing,” you responded. You felt his mouth return to where it had been before, except this time he found a sensitive spot and sucked on it. You gasped, so he did it again, harder.

“Hickies?” he asked.

“I’d rather not have them, but also please don’t stop,” you muttered. Your eyes fluttered closed as you enjoyed the sensations. His lips were soft but firm, and every point of contact with him felt like it was on fire.

“I can work with that.”

While he continued kissing and nipping at your neck, his hand left your hair to snake down and pull the tie on your robe until it was undone.

You expected him to take your robe off like he was unwrapping a gift - quickly and without precision - but instead he took his time with you. He was slow and deliberate with every action, opening you beneath him little by little and addressing each new exposed part of you before moving on and continuing. He groped at one of your breasts while kissing you, then kissed down your neck and to your other breast. His lips settled on your left nipple while his fingers worked the right one - pinching, sucking, biting, driving you absolutely crazy.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “N-need more.” He released your nipple from his mouth with a pop.

“More what?”

“Everything,” you whined. You would have been embarrassed by how into this you were, but you were too busy enjoying to feel anything other than pleasure. “More. Harder.”

“Mmm,” he said. He adjusted his technique, now grasping at you more intensely. He grabbed the soft skin at your waist and squeezed, then curled around to cradle your lower back. His lips returned to your neck, and this time he bit and sucked so hard you let out a yelp.

“Too much?” he asked, leaning back to gauge the look on your face.

“No,” you responded. “I love it.” He nodded and got back to it, continuing to suck at your pulse point while his knee dipped between your thighs to push them apart. He bent his leg to slowly drag his knee up until it reached your center. It rubbed against you, hard, causing you to let out a gasp.

“Oh, shit,” you said, your voice desperate. “Do that again.” So he did, and then you found yourself grinding against his knee at your own pace. You were definitely going to leave a wet spot on his jeans, but he didn’t seem to care. Your breathing picked up, and you clutched at his hand so you could lead it to the band of your panties. He slid his fingers beneath the fabric and down your slit, spreading you open and exploring the parts of you most slick with desire. He circled your clit while he kissed your collarbone, slipped one finger inside you as he bit at your breast, then added a second finger and rolled them inside you until they found the soft, spongy spot that caused your eyes to roll back in your head. His mouth latched onto your nipple, tongue circling it in time with his thumb down below. You rocked your hips against his hand, needing more pressure. You needed him to fuck you, actually, but he seemed to be in no rush of doing so.

Your stomach tightened as you felt yourself rising for him. He was going to make you come already, when he hadn’t even been touching you for that long.

Suddenly, you were cresting over the edge. It happened so fast you didn’t have time to prepare or warn Eddie, although he seemed to know it was happening before you did.

You gasped and moaned and cried out his name, your vision completely blacked out. Your hips continued to buck and your legs started shaking. Eventually, the waves crashed and you were centered in your body again.

“Okay, wow,” you said breathlessly.

“That was too easy,” he responded. You scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah, you win,” you replied. “You’re just as amazing in bed as you look like you would be-”

“No,” he continued. “I mean - that was too easy, and I like a challenge, so I’m gonna see how many times I can make you do that.”

Within seconds, he was making his way down your body, pulling your underwear off of you, grabbing your ankles, and tugging your body towards him. He laid your legs on either side of his shoulders and dove his head between your thighs, kissing the spot that was still extremely sensitive. It was overstimulating, but felt so good you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop. He ate you out like he was poisoned and you were the antidote. He plunged his tongue into your hole as his hands spread you apart as far as you’d go. He kissed back up to your clit and settled there, teeth latching around it gently. Then, his fingers slid back inside you, and he continued to suck on you, and somehow you were already going to come again. One of your hands found purchase in his hair, and you pulled his head against you even more. The other hand clutched the sheets beside you desperately, crumpling them into a fist as you unraveled against his mouth.

You hadn’t even realized how tightly your thighs were clenching around his head until you released him, but he didn’t move from where he’d been. He continued finger-fucking you and flicking his tongue side to side against your clit all the way through your orgasm and beyond. There was no recovery period or moment of relaxation. It hurt to have him there, a little bit, but not in a bad way. He bit at the fleshy part of your thigh so he had a second to catch his breath, but kept kissing you everywhere he had access and treating your body like it was his most precious belonging.

Because in that moment, you did belong to him.

Your third orgasm immediately followed the second. It was like he was destroying you - breaking down every wall you’d ever put up leaving you an absolute mess underneath him. His motions slowed, ever in tune with your body. It was like he could read your mind.

“Holy shit,” you whispered. He sat up straight and removed his fingers from you, immediately putting them in his mouth to suck them clean. “You’re really good at that.” He grinned, his mouth and chin shining.

“It’s my favorite part,” he replied. “Are you tapping out?”

“No, I -” Your head was spinning, but you absolutely did not want this to stop. “I just need a minute.” He chuckled, wiped his mouth, then pressed a quick kiss to your ankle. He moved your legs off him and back onto the bed, and then he laid down beside you and joined you in staring at the ceiling.

“So,” he said, his hands clasped on his stomach. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you replied. Your gaze traveled down his stomach to the very noticeable bulge in his jeans. “So, oral really does it for you, huh?” Eddie turned to see your eyes fixed on his crotch. He exhaled sharply - the start of a laugh - then nodded.

“Yeah. I’m good at it and I like it. But, I don’t know whether I’m good at it because I like it or if I like it because I’m good at it.”

“A real chicken versus egg kind of thing,” you said. He laughed.

“Exactly.”

“What else do you like?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He seemed genuinely confused by the question.

“I mean, what else do you like? Not considering your partner’s pleasure, just your own.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because we’re about to have sex,” you replied.

“Are we?” he teased. You rolled your eyes.

“Answer me,” you told him. “I want it to be good for you, too.”

“But that wasn’t the deal,” he countered, sitting up. “I’m doing this for you, not me.”

“Why can’t it be both?” He still looked at you as if you weren’t making any sense at all. “Eddie, come on. Just tell me what you like. You’ve never been shy about sex stuff in the past, clearly -”

“I like being bit,” he answered quickly. “Especially on the neck and lips. And, like, the crook of my elbow for some reason?” You nodded, urging him to continue. He sighed, then laid back down beside you. “I like the idea of someone using me just to get off - degradation, treating me like I’m nothing, all that jazz.”

“The idea of it?” you repeated, turning on your side to face him. “You’ve never tried it?”

“Not really,” he responded. “I’m kinda known for the soft-dom thing I have going on, so that’s usually what I end up doing.”

“Hmm.” You thought about his answer in the silence that followed, until he spoke again.

“You know what’s weird?”

“What?”

“Nobody’s really asked me that before.”

You looked at him, completely baffled at the situation. This poor man had only focused on his partners this whole time. No wonder he’d grown jaded to it.

“It’s been a minute,” you said. “I think I’m ready to keep going.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You could visibly see him shift back into work-mode. His eyes lit up and focused in on you again, and his hands went to his belt buckle to unfasten it. You sat up and kneeled on the bed, then helped him take his pants and boxers off and tossed them to the floor. You shimmied your robe off your shoulders and let that fall to the floor as well. He sat up in the bed with his back to the headboard so he could take his shirt off, and now you were both completely naked.

Woah.

You stared at his body, mesmerized by all the ink in his skin. You traced a finger delicately over the tattoos on his chest, shoulders, and forearms. He watched you appreciatively, a soft smile on his face, his expression peaceful. You reached over to your bedside table drawer and grabbed a condom from the box you kept there.

Then, you straddled him.

“Hey, wait -” he said. “Look, I know what you wanna do for me, but it’s probably not gonna happen. Like, I don’t usually come from sex unless I help myself out.”

You kind of saw that in one of the videos. He’d been going with this one woman for like a half hour straight and nothing.

“I want to try,” you told him. He still didn’t look convinced. “Come on, you think only porn stars are good in bed?”

“I just don’t want you to feel bad if -”

You leaned in and kissed him, hungrily, your hands tangling in his hair. Yeah, he’d taken care of you, but you were far from satiated. You wanted him badly, and you wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made you feel.

You could still taste yourself on his swollen lips, and that’s when you realized the two of you had never actually kissed before. You broke from him, concerned that you’d crossed a line.

“Sorry, I should have asked if kissing is okay first -”

He was kissing you again before you could even get your sentence out. His arms went around your waist, hugging you tightly until your chest was against his. You tugged on his hair, hard, and felt him smirk against your lips.

He was growing impossibly hard beneath you, which only encouraged you to keep going.

You clawed against his back and his mouth opened up for you. You used this as an opportunity to suck his bottom lip into your mouth before biting it.

He whimpered, which was just about the hottest sound you’d ever heard.

Your mouth traveled down his jaw and to his neck, where you gave him the same treatment he’d given you.

“Careful,” he managed to say (though his voice was weak). “I can’t be marked up for work.” You nodded, then grazed your teeth across his skin. He gasped, the grip of his hands tightening on your waist. You kissed him and bit him and sucked him on both sides of his neck, leaving no spot behind and making sure you didn’t stay in one place for too long. Eventually, you felt yourself craving him again - this time, you wanted all of him.

Your hips rocked against his erection, and you knew it was game over the moment his bare cock slid up your folds. You moaned, then reached for the condom beside you so he could put it on. You shifted yourself a bit further down on his lap as he rolled it down his length, and then your eyes caught the tattoo on his thigh that started this whole thing - the witch, in all her glory.

“She’s looking right at it,” you said, your eyes fixed to the design. Eddie huffed out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah, uhh -” he began, flustered. “It’s her - shit, okay - it’s supposed to be a joke where she’s looking at my dick because my dick is a magic wand, but that’s dorky as shit so usually when people ask I just joke that it’s because she’s a voyeur.” You smiled, then shook your head.

“So, why tell me the truth then?” you asked. “What makes me different?” You looked at his blown out pupils, deep brown and infinite, and wondered why you’d spent so much time trying not to look into them. Maybe because now that you’d done it, you weren’t sure you could ever stop.

“I don’t know,” Eddie answered. “I don’t know why you’re different.”

You maintained eye contact as you lifted yourself up and lined his cock with your entrance, and then you slowly let him sink into you.

Oh.

The immediate stretch was incredible. Eddie was well-endowed and thick, and it was going to take a little work to fit him completely inside you. You started slowly, lifting yourself up and down - all the while, your eyes stayed fixed to his.

His hand snaked between you to rub your clit slowly, getting you wetter and allowing you to accommodate his size better. You moaned loudly, unable to stop yourself, then began bouncing at a faster pace.

You kissed his forehead, the sweat on his brow leaving your lips slightly salty. Then, you kissed the spot right next to his eyes, his cheek, his jaw, before finally reaching his lips again.

Hungry. That was the best word to describe it. It felt like the two of you had each never wanted anything more in your lives as much as you wanted each other. He bottomed out inside you, and you began to lift yourself up and crash back down, slowly, but with force.

“Faster,” he muttered. “Please, faster.” His voice was breathy and weak. A part of you wanted to tease him more - you wanted to drive him crazy and then watch him explode, just as he’d done to you. But the other part of you wanted exactly what he wanted, so you obliged.

You started to ride him faster, rolling your hips in such a way where he was hitting the spot inside you that made you scream his name and pull his hair without abandon. He continued to work your clit until - somehow - you felt yourself building up to yet another orgasm.

“Fuck,” you whined, continuing to fuck him exactly as you’d been doing. “I’m gonna come again.”

He whimpered your name, and then his words became incomprehensible. But you wouldn’t have been able to hear them anyway, because pretty soon you were coming so hard you were transported through space and time. Seriously, the feeling was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. He was taking up all the space in your body and your mind.

“You’re so good, Eddie,” you said. Your words were muffled against his mouth, but you knew he understood them. “So fucking good.”

Your motions slowed down, and you started to make your way back to the room. He was staring at you, his eyes no longer piercing. They were soft and vulnerable instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t -”

“That one was for me,” you interrupted. “This next one's for you.”

“What-?”

Your lips crashed into his again. You’d gotten your fill - more than your fill, actually - and now you just had one goal.

Make Eddie Munson come.

Easy enough, you figured. He’d given you more than enough clues to tell you how. With his dick still deep inside you, you kissed down his neck to his shoulder, then lifted his arm so you could make your way to the crook of his elbow. You sucked at the tender, sensitive skin. His eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck,” he said. You smirked, then dropped his arm and promptly fucked him as fast and rough as you possibly could.

Eddie threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning and grunting and continuing to talk under his breath - only this time you were able to understand some of it.

“Holy fucking shit…Jesus Christ…Just like that…”

Most of it was curse words.

His fingers dug into your ass as he guided your hips exactly the way he needed them to go, and then all of a sudden he was twitching beneath you, his hands flexing, his jaw dropped. He desperately pressed open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone and breasts, holding you flush to him as you milked him for all he was worth.

His breathing slowed, his face still buried in your tits. Finally, he leaned back so he could look up at you. You smiled and waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. He just kissed you instead - this time lightly and without urgency behind it.

You let him slip out of you, then collapsed beside him, completely blissed out. He stayed seated and upright, although he did take the condom off and dropped it in the trash next to the bed. His eyes had turned pensive, his eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Everything okay?” you asked.

“No,” he replied, staring straight ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He shrugged.

“I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I felt like that.” You cocked your head in confusion.

“And that’s a problem?” you wondered. You maybe would have freaked out had you not just had four orgasms - Instead, you were just concerned.

“I don’t know.”

His head turned until you could see his expression fully, and you noticed there was a hint of a smile on his face.

“Um, is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.

“Yeah.” He grabbed your hand and took a deep breath. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

(Part 2)

-------------------

Feel free to make requests in the comments, through DM, or using my taglist! In the meantime, check out my the masterlist on my main account where I post non-smut content :)

@welc0me-t0-hellfire @nope-thanks @names-were-taken @teary-eyed-egg @mvnsonluver @msgexymunson @micheledawn1975 @mimsthebannished @joantje @mrsjellymunson @oh-my-grace @libbyhermione @agrownupgeekgirl @vintagehellfire @spikedhe4rt @stardustingold @bebe07011 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tlclick73 @astridflowers @whisteriaremembers @martaboj92 @the-side-blog777 @demeterlindavis @starheartseddie

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

little-diable · 1 month

Text

Guilt - Feyd-Rautha (smut)

So, I watched Dune again, and this came to me mid movie. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

!Contains spoilers!

Summary: The reader is married to Feyd, she felt him being touched by Lady Margot – now he has to prove to her how much he loves her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), implied cheating/somewhat not really since she knew it'd happen, some angst, strong-headed reader, still some fluff (?)

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!reader (1.3k words)

“You know, na-Baron, sleepless nights can be cruel.” Her voice echoed through their dark chamber, back turned to him as her eyes stared outside. Feyd froze in his step, he had just entered the room, careful not to wake her. (Y/n) held a blade between her fingers, letting her fingertips stroke along the sharp edge.

“Nightmares again?” A scoff wanted to claw through (y/n) at his question. Feyd was playing her, thinking she hadn’t noticed how he had slipped out of the room, hiding away from his own celebrations - only to run into Lady Margot. (Y/n) had felt it the second the woman had touched him, in ways only (y/n) had been asked to touch her very own husband.

But the way was cruel, guided by power-hungry women who thought of them better than her.

“You dare lie to your wife?” (Y/n)’s voice was sharper than ever before, she didn’t see the way he slightly stumbled back, not expecting that chilly tone of hers. Feyd ran his tongue along his black teeth, trying to fight against an emotion he hadn’t felt before, an emotion he had been a stranger to – until now. Guilt. A sensation that wandered up his body, making him almost choke on his bile.

“It needed to be done.” Within seconds she stood in front of him, with her blade pressed against his throat, with her eyes burning holes into his skin, with tears about to drip from her eyes. It was true, it had to be done, and she had known that the Bene Gesserit order would grasp any chance they could get to fulfil it. Feyd-Rautha was a puppet of their game, a puppet who had now offered all his weaknesses to them.

“I ought to kill you with that blade, rip you to pieces the way you’ve ripped my heart to pieces. I thought you were stronger than that, husband, it’s a shame I’ve married a man who behaves like a child.” No word left Feyd at the harsh words she spoke, words he’d kill others for without blinking once. But all he did was wipe away her tear, one single drop that dared to escape her glassy eye. “Wash yourself clean, I can still smell her on you.”

“Join me, na-Baroness.” Her hand met his cheek before he could see it coming, shakily inhaling at the rage now simmering inside of him. Feyd’s black teeth ran along his lower lip while his hand found her wrist, harshly tugging her against his chest. “The next time you raise your hand at me, I won’t be as gentle with you, wife.”

“Gentle? You breed another woman, you embarrass your wife, and now you threaten her? I have never feared you, and I won’t start now, bound together by a promise that has lost its meaning.” It was pathetic of her, to treat him like her enemy because he had done what had needed to be done. But her pain weighed heavier than her rational thoughts, guiding her on as Feyd cupped her cheek before interlacing their fingers.

No word left him as he began to lead (y/n) into the washroom, tugging on her nightgown to expose her naked body. Pleasure had always been one of his few weaknesses, and even though he had found pleasure in fucking the Lady, it hadn’t felt like it did with (y/n), not as raw, as intimate as he was used to by now.

Feyd sank into the water first, but his eyes didn’t leave her naked frame once. Wordlessly, he reached his hand out for her to take, to pull her into the bath. (Y/n) shuddered in his hold, she tried to shake off the emotions thumping through her like a sandstorm set to bury her alive, and yet she miserably failed at it. For the first time since knowing Feyd-Rautha, she lost her grip on her emotions.

“I love you.” Three simple words Feyd hadn’t ever spoken before rolled off his tongue, words that hadn’t ever managed to leave his mouth, held back by his black teeth that wouldn’t dare part. But now they had rolled off his tongue all too easily, surprising him and her.

“The wonders of guilt.” A humourless laugh left (y/n). “Don’t keep lying to me, husband. I’m not your pet nor your toy, don’t lure me into false comfort with pretty words and thin lies.” Feyd tightened his grasp on her cheeks, squeezing them to keep her from saying another word. A rough kiss was pressed to her lips, drawing a moan out of (y/n) at the familiarity of the sensation.

“I love you.” He repeated the words, pronouncing every single one of them as if he were speaking a threat, hoping to open her eyes. She stared at him for a while, trying to figure out how sincere the words were - if they were sincere at all, but the pain tugging on his expression told her everything she needed to know. The sigh leaving her made Feyd loosen his grip on her cheeks, letting his hand wander down to her neck.

“I love you too, even though I try to hate you, now more than ever.” Another rough kiss was shared between them, drawing moans from both lovers. Feyd’s cock twitched against her, in any other scenario he would have fucked her by now, murmuring into her ear that he’d pump her full, desperate to see her with a round belly, but today he didn’t. A wise decision she was grateful for.

But even though he stopped himself from forcing his cock into her cunt, his hand didn’t stop moving, cupping her heat with an almost soft grin tugging on his lips. Their eyes held contact as he circled her pulsing bundle, using just enough strength to leave her shuddering. Her mind screamed at her, but her body craved his touch like a drug as if she was high on spice.

“You know it had to be done, but you need to know it wasn’t like this.” His words weighed heavy, telling her that their bond would survive every attack, even death they’d overcome together. “You are my end and my beginning, na-Baroness.”

Two of his fingers pushed into her tightness, engulfed by her fluttering walls. Her moans filled the washroom, echoing off the walls like screams of prisoners, slashed by Feyd’s blade for his mere enjoyment. An exciting sensation he had always craved, just like the orgasms he lured out of her, watching them clash through her shaking body.

“My beautiful wife, you were made for me, destined even.” (Y/n) couldn’t reply, her eyes rolled back into her head as her fingernails left crescent-shapes on his shoulders. Her orgasm was close, pushed into her high by his cold fingers, feeling them on her clit and against her swollen spot, hers forever.

“Cum for me, show me how much your body craves me.” She came with a gasp, tightening her grip on Feyd as her high clashed through her. Heavy pants spluttered from her lips at the blinding sensation, too distracting to study Feyd’s smirk, the satisfied expression tugging on his handsome features.

“You’re forever mine, (y/n), and nothing may change that, no prophecy, no destiny.”

#Feyd Rautha smut #Feyd Rautha imagine #Feyd Rautha x reader #dune #Austin butler smut

692 notes · View notes

junggunz · 11 months

Text

do not disturb | 🔞

──★ ˙ ̟ VINNY

Chest pressed against your back while his thighs straddled your waist, keeping you firmly in place, the leisurely paced thrusts Vinny gives you lets you feel every inch of his cock. Dating and intimacy never occupied much space in his mind prior to meeting you; it was only after the two of you got closer, he realized how touch starved he was. Feeling your skin on his felt like it was enough to send him over the edge sometimes. So inconscient in the realm of pleasure, all of his surroundings cease to exist to him. Not even the loud clattering of his cellphone as it vibrated against the hard surface of your nightstand.

Vinny’s hand tightly grips your neck as he ruts into you from behind, pulling you back onto his length while he remains draped over your body. Your toes curl from the depths he reaches inside of you, your head falling forward as you bury your face into the pillow to muffle your noises. With the ways your slick walls squeezed around him so tightly, it was obvious to the both of you that your orgasm was just on the horizon.

“Fuck, I wanna cum in you so bad.” Vinny whispers in your ear, gradually rolling his hips against yours faster while his fingertips press into the side of your throat. The mere sound of his voice has you clenching around him once again, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you. “You want it too, don’t you?” He questions mockingly before his posture straightens, the angle of his thrusts shifting ever so slightly and pressing into your sweet spot.

“Nng, yes— please—cum inside.” You sibilate, writhing beneath him; torn between wanting him to keep fucking you like that but also knowing that the ball of heat blossoming in the pit of your stomach was ridiculously close to bursting.

It doesn’t take long for Vinny’s pace to dramatically pick up as he feels your walls closing in on him, his hips smacking into the plush flesh of your ass and the sound of skin colliding with skin fills your bedroom. A bunch of garbled nonsense tumbles from your lips as you get closer and closer to your peak until you find yourself falling headfirst into your orgasm. With a few more toe curling and deep thrusts, your sensitive walls feel the warmth of Vinny’s seed spill inside of you.

──★ ˙ ̟JAY

Phone on silent, you had been giving Jay the cold shoulder all day after getting into a petty argument with him. You may have started it but it didn’t change the fact you were upset and wanted to be alone. However, when he shows up at your doorstep with your favorite snacks as a peace offering, you can’t help but let him in. To combat the awkward silence between the two of you, you had opted to put on a movie but of course…the atmosphere would change when an unexpected intimate scene dragged on for way longer than needed in the film.

Jay has always been someone of little words, so it doesn’t shock you in the least bit when he wastes no time, pulling you in for a heated lip lock that eventually escalates to him hauling you off to your bedroom. The intensity behind each kiss manages to convey the emotions that Jay couldn’t bring himself to put into words for you. That fervent energy seamlessly bleeds into your system, your nerves in a frenzy as his hands glide along your body.

“I don’t wanna kiss all night.” Jay murmurs softly against your lips when he reluctantly parts from you. Glancing up at him through your lashes, the demure expression on your face is so sweet, he’s almost convinced that you’re too shy to give in to desire but your body says otherwise; pulling him closer.

Clothes practically fly off, any semblance of restraint being stripped away with each garment that’s carelessly discarded on your bedroom floor. Jay’s cock twitches in his palm as he mounts you, taking in your current disheveled appearance that matches the current state of your sheets. The tip of his length nudges your entrance, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he finally descends into the warmth of your body; his hands placed on either side of your head. He wants to close his eyes at the pleasurable sensation of your pussy greedily sucking him in, giving him no other option but to push into you. But his eyes are trained on the way your face contorts in the perfect mix of pleasure accented with just the faintest hint of pain.

The moment your face reads as nothing other than bliss, he knows to start moving. Jay’s pace starts off as steady and even, each thrust becoming deeper with the encouragement of your soft moans. If Jay hadn’t been so intently drinking in the sounds of your satisfaction, he would have missed the way you meekly whispered for him to go harder and faster. Thankful for his own attentiveness, he was more than happy to oblige to your request; his own greed to feel more of you was making it impossible to keep the mild pace.

“Too much?” Jay asks you between groans, his hips now relentlessly pounding away at you. Quite honestly, he doesn’t want to ease up on you, but with the way your moans had dissolved into just little whimpers and whines, he needed to make sure you were still feeling good.

“No, please keep going. I’m gonna cum—” You plead breathily, glossy eyes meeting his as your legs wrapped around his waist.

The way your walls pulse around his length as your climax approaches almost make him blow his load. And hearing the most vulgar words fall from your lips in a honeyed tone has his full balls tightening as they slap against your ass with every harsh thrusts he delivers into you but the notion of being able to feel you cumming around him is just enough to get him to hold back until you finish.

──★ ˙ ̟JOKER

“Ugh, fuck!” Joker growls into your skin, his teeth latching onto the flesh as he spills his seed inside of your gummy walls; the familiar sound of his phone ringing cutting his post-climax bliss short. This was the second load he had given you since the two of you had woken up late in the afternoon. More than satisfied with the session, you lift your hips off of him, but the moment you do so, his grip on your hips tightens and keeps you in place.

“Who said I was done?” He questions in a low voice, his breathing slightly uneven as it fans against your clavicle.

“We’ve been in bed so long— and Wooin is calling.” You mumble, confusion settling in your already muddled mind while you try to recover from the back to back orgasms Joker had coaxed out of you.

“So? I’m still so fucking hard. We’re not finished.” He tells you, tuning out the sound of his phone ringing and making you very aware of his cock throbbing against the walls of your sensitive pussy.

A small yelp of surprise falls from you when Joker tosses you on to your back, looming over you hungrily as he kneels between your spread thighs. With the ironclad grip he has on your hips, he easily lifts them off the bed, your weight shifting to rest on your shoulders as he aligns his length with your messy hole right before slipping back inside of you. Your walls rejoice at the feeling of having him inside you again, unable to contain your elation to have Joker continue to make you feel good.

From the start, he thrusts into you deep and hard; having no need for build up when the two of you were already so wound up. Erratic thrusts send your sensitivity into overdrive, shaky moans pouring from your throat and mix in with the sound of your bed frame knocking into the wall. Your eyes roll back into your skull as Joker pulls your hips toward him so you could meet each harsh snap of his hips. He presses into your sweet spot just right. As you keep squirming from the constant stimulation, Joker growls in annoyance; his already tight grip on you becoming even more firm.

“Stop moving around so much or you’re not cumming again.”

──★ ˙ ̟WOOIN

Perhaps you should have known this was coming when you made the conscious decision to ignore Wooin’s calls. But in your defense, your hands were a little busy at the moment and your mind was elsewhere.

When he shows up to your place to check on you, he’s less than pleased to find you wearing one of his shirts as you lay in bed selfishly pleasuring yourself. The only reason he called you was to see if you were down to fuck; but you had the nerve to blow him off for your fingers? He’s pissed and he makes it known when he stalks toward you, taking advantage of the fact your eyes were closed before moving quickly to yank your fingers out of you then flip you over so you were laying on your stomach.

“I’ve been trying to call you all day and this is what you’ve been doing?” He scoffs, giving your ass a harsh slap that makes you yelp. “And when did you steal my shirt?”

“I took it as collateral when I found out you’ve been hooking up with whatsherface. You could have just called her.” You groan in annoyance as you look over your shoulder at him with a small scowl.

“Aw, are you jealous, baby?” He coos mockingly as he’s already undressing; his cock already hard from watching the little show you put on. “I thought I told you it doesn’t mean anything getting head from other girls. Your pussy is way too good for me to wanna fuck anyone else.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, questioning why you even bother putting up with Wooin but the moment he props you up on all fours and slides inside you, you remember why. The mean, relentless strokes he delivers have your cunt ardently squeezing around him, your mind going blank and your back folding into a deep arch so you could feel as much of his cock as you could. Ass high in the air while your cheek is pressed up against your mattress, you’re practically drooling from all the pleasure you feel. The bruising grip he keeps on your hips doesn’t even register in your mind as painful when he’s fucking you so thoroughly.

“Aren’t you going to thank me? You know your fingers are nowhere near as good as my dick.” Wooin says from behind you, the smirk on his face so evident in his tone; you didn’t even have to look at him to know he was wearing the most smug expression.

“Shut up.” You respond in a snappy tone, which provokes a small chuckle from Wooin. Sneaking one of his hands between your legs, his fingers spider their way to your clit and rubbing the sensitive bud in circles at the pace he knows you love. You bite back the shrill moan that tickles the back of your throat, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing how good you were feeling. The way your sopping pussy desperately slurped up his length was enough of an admission to how much pleasure he brought you.

“I’ll shut up after you make me cum.” He tells you in a dallying tone, eyes fixated on the way your ass rippled every time his hips snapped into you. A hum of contentment vibrates in the back of his throat when he notices you pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. Being no stranger to your body and tendencies in the bedroom, Wooin knows he’s got you right where he wants you—dumb, fucked out, and desperate to cum. You could suppress your moans all you wanted, act like you couldn’t stand him, and swear that you were gonna block his number but your pussy creaming all over his dick would always give you away.

And besides, if you truly didn’t want him to stop by, you would have changed the pin code for your door long ago.

#windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #vinny hong scenarios #vinny hong x reader #vinny hong smut #jay jo x reader #jay jo smut #jay jo scenarios #windbreaker joker #joker smut #joker scenarios #joker x reader #wooin x reader #wooin smut #wooin yu scenarios #junggunz.txt

2K notes · View notes

luveline · 2 years

Text

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary steve likes you, eddie munson's best friend, to the point of heart palpitations. you feel the same way about him [6k]

warnings fluff, getting together, mutual pining, first kiss, first date, eddie munson is a good friend, steve is hopeless, fem!reader, reader is hellfire club adjacent, reader is an overthinker and steve is a softie, pre-s4 post-s3, no s4 spoilers besides eddie + hellfire club existing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

The first time Steve sees you he's smitten.

You're sitting on the stoop of Eddie Munson's trailer. Coolest girl he's ever seen – and Steve doesn't go for the edgy type. Crazy cool clothes, hair all messy pretty and your eyes edged in dark makeup, you're fiddling with the cassette player in your lap, brows pinched in frustration.

Steve can't look long. He's dropping the lunch club off for some impromptu Hellfire gathering. The kids pile out, eager to see their new (no, Steve isn't bitter) friend with a chorus of rushed, half-hearted thank you's.

You push the headphones off of your ears as his kids approach.

"Hey, Y/N," they say, one by one as they enter the trailer and disappear from sight.

Steve is two seconds from leaving, swears, when he hears Lucas ask how you are.

"You know," you say, voice quiet and immediately intoxicating. Steve watches as you slowly push two fingers between your shiny lips and pretend to blow your brains out. You drop on your back and lie there for a moment, chest rising with easy, breezy laughter. The sound draws heat to his cheeks, worse the sight of your naked thighs.

He's hooked. He has to leave quickly, before you sit back up and indoctrinate him with your looks alone.

The next time he sees you is similar and not. You're sitting on the ground outside the movie theatre. Again, Steve is playing taxi cab for his doofuses, though this time the thank you's are slightly kinder, louder - he'd blown off a girl he didn't stand much chance with in the first place to bring them.

"Love you!" Dustin calls, slamming the passenger door.

You drop the cassette player in your hands and lean your head back against Eddie's thigh. Steve takes a few seconds to realise you're looking at him, head tilting this way and that to catch a glance at him through people's legs.

"Who's your friend?" he hears you ask Mike.

Mike doesn't even look. "Who? Steve? He's my sister's ex-boyfriend."

You smile at him. Steve, hating to be caught but not stupid enough to blush, nods at you through the window before turning the key. It's the suavest thing he's ever done and he's still applauding himself when you approach his window. He hadn't noticed you get up, distracted by triumph.

You knock the window. He rolls it down.

"Hi," you say.

"Hey," he says back. Then, cautiously, "You need something?"

You smell like a lot of things as you duck your head into his car. Mica and perfume and, softer, talc. Hairspray. Something else, wet like ink. He can't help looking at your make up, the rhinestones under your lower lashes, the shiny sticky pink on your lips.

"Steve," you say. He likes the way you say his name, confident, like you've always known it. You smile softly, at ends with your Joan Jett-esque levels of cool. "Do you wanna come see the movie?" Then, in what marks the beginning of the end, "With me?"

He knows he should play it out. Plus, he's startled. "I don't know, I'm just here to drop them off."

"It's okay if you have plans," you say. He catches a sneak of your tongue pressed behind - what he perhaps insanely thinks of as - cute teeth. You're talking to him in this lilting cadence that has him pinned. "But you drove all the way here, so if you're not busy…"

He pretends to consider.

"What movie?" he asks.

You bring a hand to your neck and secure a small silver pendant between your neatly lacquered nails. "Uh, it's called Day of the Dead. S'about zombies," you tell him. The way you say zombies - your voice goes high and airy, your lips move slow like they're catching up to the word, your eyebrows raised up. Eyes wide. He wants to play it back.

"Please?" you ask when he fails to reply.

He thinks he has to be dreaming. Or drugged again. Definitely drugged.

"Sure," he hears himself say, though he can't remember thinking about it.

You don't smile like he expects. You make a sound, a happy inhale, your eyes light up but your lips stay straight.

Steve thinks you might be nervous.

And sure, he can be a jerk but he's not a total douchebag. He gives you what he hopes is a reassuring smile and gets out of his car, locking the doors to follow you to the ticket stand. Closer now, Steve can't work you out: half dreamy, half fidgeting.

Your boots thud up carpeted stairs into the auditorium, the lights already down, previews blaring.

There's two empty seats next to Eddie. In the dark you catch the hem of his jacket between your fingers and pull him behind you.

His heart skips.

Eddie, in what Steve thinks of as his most mature greeting to date, nods at him and then turns to you curiously. "You okay?" he asks seriously.

"I'm perfect, Eds. Did we miss any good previews?" you ask, sitting heavily beside your friend and stealing a big handful of popcorn out of his lap.

Eddie only chuckles. "Nothing you'd like."

You nod and then turn to Steve shyly. "Sorry we didn't get snacks," you whisper. You offer your hand to him, full of popcorn.

He shakes his head. You look embarrassed but not surprised, tipping your head back to polish off your handful.

"You went to Hawkins High?" you ask with your hand over your mouth.

"I did. You didn't?"

"I did," you correct gently, wiping your hand on your thigh. "I graduated two years ago. When Eddie should have."

That makes more sense, though Steve's sorry he doesn't remember you. He was a little obsessed with Nance at the time.

"Do you work?" he asks.

You smile like you're about tell him a big secret, edging forward. Your arms brushes his arm on the rest between chairs. "You can't tell anyone."

"On my honour," he says, eyes wide, terrified you're a mercenary or worse, a cold caller.

"I desk at the library," you say.

He blinks. You giggle and Eddie shushes you, already sounding defeated. Chastened, you drop your voice to a barely perceptible level.

"I know, I don't look the type."

"No," he says, too loud, receiving several disgruntled glares. "No, you- Well, maybe you don't. But I don't look like I worked at Scoops Ahoy all summer, so��"

You slap a ring-laden hand over your shiny pout and try to smother a laugh. Bracelets slide down your wrist. "You do! You do look like you worked there," you say joyfully.

He can't find it in him to be offended.

You're milder as you settle back into your seat. A preview passes. You clear your throat.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding worried, "if that was cruel. I get mixed up. I know- I mean, I don't know, but the Starcourt thing. That must've been awful."

Your words stick together like taffy. He releases you as quickly as he can.

"Hey, don't be sorry," he says, scoffing lighty. He readjusted where he's sitting, crossing his arms over his chest. "Doesn't matter." It's not like you'd meant anything by it.

You look less peaky but still hesitant.

"Would you believe me if I told you the worst part of my job was the uniform?" he jokes, wanting to put you at ease again.

"Was it really so bad?" you murmur, your lips slowly curving up into a smile.

"There was a mandated hat."

You laugh. People shush you aggressively. Steve feels something close to magnetism at the sound, and wants to make you do it again.

"Where do you work now?" you whisper as the movie begins.

"Video store by the arcade."

"Family Video?" you ask. He nods, looking down at your hands in your lap, your fingers. Your legs are shaking, minute trembling. You twist one of your rings around your fingers and he wonders what's making you nervous.

"That's the one."

You bend in close, so close he thinks he can smell your shampoo. Dusky, rosewater. Sweet.

"Maybe I can come see you. You can recommend me something."

"Sure," he says, too loud. Somebody coughs, though the cough sounds suspiciously like dickwad.

You watch Day of the Dead, stealing popcorn all the while. You pop the lid off of Eddie's drink and take sneaky sips, and your friend flicks your upper arm when you get greedy. In response, your bashful, peeling laughter.

"Fine, I'll get my own drink. You want one?" you ask Steve, standing with your back bent, necklace dipping down in the space between you. He follows it, looks accidentally straight at your chest and then back up, guilty and blushing. "Steve?" you ask.

"I'll come with you," he says, desperate to escape the dark, the warmth.

Steve follows you down the red, trodden carpet and back into the main body of the theatre, an atrium with high glass windows and wooden beams. It smells old, like dust. The sky is dark now, night eating up every bit of natural light. White cat eyes beam from the movie theatre's floors to guide you to the snack station, a brighter, well stocked haven of greasy foods and cold drinks.

You stand in front of the popcorn machine. It paints your skin with a golden yellow shine, like the sun. You're very quiet as you open your clutch, pulling out hair pins and chapstick and a lone cotton pad before you find your purse, a battered leather pouch embossed with hearts. He tries not to fill the silence, digging for his wallet in his pocket. He gets a too big coke and you deliberate over slurpee flavours, eventually asking for a mix.

"It's so quiet out here," you murmur around your straw.

"Like Family Video on a Friday," he agrees.

"Isn't Friday, like, one of your busiest nights?"

"Yep."

A burst of surprised giggles. Steve hides his smile with a cough, 'cos he's cool.

You pull the straw from your cup and lick it clean, digging for a certain flavour though he's not sure which, still laughing to yourself. Steve takes the initiative and leads you back up the stairs and to your seat, catching your jacket in his hand before you can walk down the wrong row.

You smile gratefully, your lips stained blue and red.

You're sitting on the pavement outside of Family Video. Steve can see your back, your hair.

He wonders why you're here, if it's to see him, and then if you're okay, and feels bad for thinking in that order.

"Robin," he says loudly, reluctant to tear his eyes from you lest you disappear like a shoddy apparition.

"Steven."

"Not correct."

"What, idiot?" Robin asks, picking her head up from the book stretched open in her lap. She sits up and her back clicks loudly.

Steve sighs in disgust. "That's gross, you know? You'll get, like, arthritis."

"You think arthritis is gross? Not cool, Steven."

"No, I meant them as two separate things. Gross to hear you click, and that the clicking will give you arthritis," he explains, exasperated. He runs a hand through his hair.

"That's a myth."

A long pause where Steve watches your back moving, how you're leaning forward towards the sun bleached tarmac.

"What?" he asks suddenly, turning from you finally to stare in disbelief at his best friend.

Robin is more than prepared to fight her cause, the leaves of her book closed around her hand like she'd been waiting for him to ask. She probably had been.

"It's a myth. Clicking your bones doesn't give you arthritis. The clicking sound is fluid moving- Are you even listening to me?"

Steve has dropped his head into his hands. He spreads his fingers wide so Robin can see his eyes. "Robin, we have more important things at hand."

"Like what? Keith's laundry?"

"Like Y/N is sitting outside right now!" he shouts, and then cringes. You don't show any sign of having heard him. He continues in a strangled whisper, "She's been out there for like, five minutes!"

Robin kicks up off of her stool to stand at Steve's side, up on tiptoes to see over the vinyl on the windows. She's listened to his inane rambling and insecure, badly disguised yearning all week, but hasn't had a face to a name until now. She makes a sound of approval like she can understand why Steve has been so wound up about you.

"Why's she on the floor?"

"She does that."

"Oh," Robin says, chin jutting up. "Are you gonna go talk to her?"

He wants to. Dreadfully. Intensely wants to.

"Or I could go talk to her," Robin offers, wrists touching. She rubs them together. Steve ignores her mischievous, shit-eating grin.

"Sure, Robs, you talk to her. Stun her with your stellar people skills."

Robin's lips push, as close as she's ever come to pouting. "Cruel."

"Yet accurate."

"If you're so amazing, why don't you go talk to her, hot shot? Woo her! Chop-chop."

Steve steels his nerves because even if he is about to make a huge fool of himself he's slightly worried about your on-the-ground position. Not unusual for you, but still.

"Are you okay?" he asks as he emerges.

You turn to Steve like you're unsurprised that he's there and offer your headphones to him. "Put these on?"

"Are you okay?" he asks again, voice not dissimilar to when he's bossing around the kids.

You hold the headphones to your chest and dip your chin. "Steve, I'm fine. Please?" you ask, offering them to him.

He puts on the headphones, bent at the waist for the wire to reach your cassette player. He quickly discovers the source of your unhappiness – the tape sounds bloated. Distorted.

"The tapes messed up," he says.

You shake your head with patience, though he can tell from your expression this isn't the first time you've explained it. "It's not the tape, it's the player."

Steve's back gives a twinge. I'm an old man, he thinks in horror, standing up straight with your headphones back in his hands.

"You drop it?" he asks expectantly.

You only frown more, looking generally put out. "No, I took great care of her. Scout's honor."

Steve sighs and decides to take the leap, sitting down beside you on the sidewalk. There's a small dip where the parking lot starts and he stretches one leg out across it, hand on his knee, the other across his abdomen.

"Can't one of your nerd club fix it?" he asks.

"I'm not actually in Hellfire Club, you know."

He didn't. "You can't ask? Eddie must've learned something at school after this many years. By accident. Like… osmosis."

"Eddie's on his third try for a reason," you say, picking at a small ladder in your tights on the side of your calf. You're wearing socks, too, peeking up just over the edge of your thick bottomed boots.

"You know Dustin?" he asks after a patch of silence he would find awkward with anyone who wasn't you. You make it peaceful, in a way. "He could take a look. He went to science camp and built, like, the world's strongest radio."

He can't tell if you're listening. Your eyes are trained on the sidewalk, its crack, and the weeds growing between them. There's a wet snapping sound.

You hold a small yellow flower between your fingers.

"A creeping buttercup," you tell him. You push your palm flat in the space between you both and lean towards him. "Do you like butter?"

"Do I- Yeah, sure, I like butter. Who doesn't?"

You lick your lips. "Mind if I check?" you ask him.

"Is that a trick question?"

"Steve," you say, chiding. You tilt your head to your shoulder and the breeze kisses your hair, ruffling soft strands as you hold the flower under his chin intently. He feels frozen.

"You love butter," you say, nodding like what you just said makes sense.

"Are you sure you're okay? Didn't hit your head on the way here?"

"Here. Hold it under my chin," you tell him, offering him the flower. You twirl its stem, though you stop when he moves to take it.

Steve feels like an idiot as he holds it by your neck.

"Closer," you say softly, lifting your head.

Steve raises his eyebrows but keeps his skepticism to himself. To his surprise, when the flower is close enough to your skin, a small patch of yellow light appears, gauzy around the edges.

"What the fuck…"

You lower your chin, your faces closer than Steve had realised. You look straight into his eyes. "It's a reflection of the light. 'Cos it's clear out."

He feels out of his element no matter how captivating he finds you – he can't get to grips with it. His silence quickly deters you; you look away from his face and your lips pull into a pout as you bite your bottom lip. You bend at the waist and mess with your shoelaces.

"Did you wanna come inside?" he asks, trying to fix whatever it is he did. Girls are complicated.

You cheer up a bit.

"Do you have anything like Day of the Dead?"

He has no clue.

"Sure we do," he says confidently.

He stands up fast and offers his hand. You take it, your palm smooth and cool in his, admittedly warmer and slightly calloused. He hopes the ease with which he pulls you up is impressive, then feels stupid for thinking that. You squeeze his fingers before you let go and follow him into Family Video.

"So, what? You like him?" Eddie asks you from above, cross-legged on his bed. Denim jacket nowhere to be seen, he sits in a t-shirt with the sleeves hacked off, tattoos on clear display, stark against his pale skin.

"Don't be jealous, Eds," you say mildly.

He crawls to the edge of the bed to look down at you where you lie on his floor. His hair tickles your nose and you hold in a sneeze.

"Nice face," he says.

"I think he likes me."

"Why wouldn't he? You're cool."

You stare at your best friend's earnest face. "You know why."

"No, I don't."

You close your eyes, head dipping to your shoulder. You can't hide from him, though you've tried. Your arms cross over your tummy in a self-hug.

The ground is cold. His uncle's trailer is always cold, frigid in the winter. Minimal insulation and no A/C. You rub your face into the scratchy rug beneath you and sigh morosely, suddenly overcome with a pinching misery.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Eddie says seriously.

"I don't think I can do it." It hurts to say, though you know Eddie won't judge you.

"What? Have a boyfriend?"

You nod. The mattress creaks as he moves. You're expecting his touch, though his cold finger flicking you square in the forehead startles you anyway. Your eyes jump open. You flinch up into a sitting position and rub your head.

"Shithead."

"Stop doubting yourself."

"I get so messed up. I'm a bad friend, I wouldn't- I wouldn't be a good girlfriend," you mutter, bringing your knees to your chest. You hide in them.

"You don't get messed up," he says.

"I'm stupid."

"Y/N," he says, dragging your name out sternly. "Here, come sit with me. I won't flick you again, promise."

You rub your eyes, smudging your makeup and stand reluctantly to flop onto his bed, his rumpled sheets a lump under your back. Eddie pulls your necklace from where it has ridden up your neck and drops it down the valley of your chest absent-mindedly.

"You're not stupid," he says gently. "And you don't get 'messed up'. You're overthinking things."

"I'm not," you argue. "I'm an idiot, and I say the wrong things, and maybe he does like me but it won't last long."

You didn't have an easy time in school. Eddie knows this, lived it with you, and he's blamed it a thousand times for your low self-esteem. Ever understanding, he hums to himself skeptically and grabs your shoulder, giving you a good shake. He doesn't stop until you're laughing.

"I'm trying to shake some sense into you," he confides. "You're really fucking cool. And I'm not just saying that because you've been copying me since middle school, you're really cool."

"Cool," you repeat.

"Awesome."

You run the chain of your necklace through your fingers and feel the links skip over your skin, frowning.

"I thought for sure he'd ask me out by now."

"Maybe you should ask him."

"He probably thinks I'm, like, a creepy stalker."

"Creepy, maybe. Stalker? For what? Visiting him at work? That's friendly." You're overthinking things, he doesn't say.

"I left him my phone number," you admit, whispering. "But he hasn't called me."

"Babe, you're always fucking here. Did you check your machine?"

Obsessively. "Yeah."

Eddie throws himself down and kicks his legs over your tummy, to your annoyance. He ponders and you sulk, the rough sounds of Black Sabbath playing in the background.

"You've only met him a few times, right?"

Right. The movies, the video store, once when you'd bumped into him at the arcade and a couple of times when he'd checked out books at the library.

Eddie smiles as you tell him. "The library?"

"Yeah."

"He's visiting you at work?"

You think back to the last time you'd seen him, all of ten minutes across the desk with your clean library uniform and your neat hair. You finally cracked and asked him if he thought it suited you better.

"You look great," Steve had said, smiling lopsided, "but I miss your pretty gems. Oh, we have Friday the 13th back in. I kept it for you..."

"No, he's visiting the library," you say.

Eddie chuckles, his deep, teasing laugh. "And before you met, you saw him in there a lot, huh?"

"Well, no."

"So it's a coincidence that he found out where you work and he's suddenly an academic?"

"Shut up, Eddie," you plead, covering your face with your hands.

"Fine, whatever, we'll stop talking about it. Wanna paint my nails?"

"No."

You get up and paint his nails. You've done one hand pretty well when there's the sound of a car parking outside. Eddie turns down the stereo and you stare at each other curiously, listening for clues.

"Your uncle?"

"No. Probably for someone else."

Instantly disproved, there's a knock at the door, breaking up the silence. Eddie sighs dramatically and climbs over your legs to answer, his footsteps clumsy. "Yeah, coming," he calls. You stand and peer around the doorway, waiting to see who it is.

Eddie opens the door. "Harrington," he says, surprised, vaguely disgusted. "The munchkins aren't here."

"No, I know. I'm looking for Y/N."

You feel a stab of excitement right to your heart and scramble for Eddie's mirror, looking over your face and outfit with something close to terror looming – you're in an old band t-shirt covered in hair-dye from Eddie's red and pink phase and a skirt that's too short. You pull it down to make sure everything is properly covered.

"Yeah, she's here," Eddie says, though the door creaks as he closes it slightly, his voice a fraction from intimidating as he asks, "Who's asking?"

"Me?" Steve asks.

Your socks slide over linoleum in your rush to stop Eddie from being a total dick, edging him out of the way with your hip. He doesn't budge. You shove him with a huff and smile at Steve, trying to calm your pounding heart.

"Steve, hi."

"Hey," he looks over your shoulder. You turn, see Eddie standing there looking unimpressed. He waves. You glare at him fiercely and step over the threshold, shutting the door behind you.

You don't second guess as you take Steve's wrist into your hand, pulling him down the steps and into the short grass to make sure Eddie can't eavesdrop. It's damp under your socks.

Steve looks hot. You're a simple girl, you won't deny that. His hair looks more windblown than usual, lazy strands falling into his face. His eyes are serious, light brown and edged in straight lashes you would count if he let you, brows slightly lifted. You realise he's taking you in as you do the same and feel self conscious, shifting from foot to foot.

"Sorry, I look weird. I didn't-" you bite your tongue. I didn't know you were coming, you'd almost said, but of course you didn't, and telling him you would've dressed up if he was coming might scare him off.

Any anxiety you'd had is soothed as he takes your hand, still loosely clasped around his wrist, and squeezes the centre of your palm with his thumb.

"Are you kidding?" he asks, hand moving down, thumb rubbing over your pulse point. "You look beautiful. Don't worry about it."

His nonchalance trips you up. You can feel your heart in your mouth, like a hummingbird on your tongue.

"What did… what did you wanna ask me?" you stammer.

Steve drops your hand. "I tried calling, but I figured you'd be here. Uh, so-" he laughs, pulling a hand through his hair before dipping into the pocket of his jacket. You watch his arms then his hands.

"I got these," he says, pulling two tickets from his pocket. White and a third red, he offers them to you. You take them, enough adrenaline running through you that your hands are shaking and you struggle to read what they say.

Steve jumps in. "I know you really liked Day of the Dead. They're doing a showing in Indianapolis, one of those fancy theatre's where everyone dresses up as zombies, and like, they throw fake guts on you. Or something."

"Oh," you murmur. Awesome, you think. Oh my god. "That's sick."

"Right?"

"And you…"

"I want you to go with me. I want to take you," he says firmly. "On a date."

"A date."

"It's Friday. I'll pick you up, we'll drive there in the morning. Hang around, we can go wherever you want for dinner, see the sights."

"This is before or after we dress up like zombies?" you ask, hiding a huge smile.

Steve blushes, let it be written, his cheeks red. He sounds frustrated as he says, "Right, not my best idea. Before? We can get ready in the car," his voice fades before he finishes. "That's not a good idea."

He starts on a self deprecating waffle that you can't allow. You press the tickets to your chest, way too happy. "This is pretty cool."

"You think so?" he asks quickly, strung out.

"Yeah," you say fondly.

"Oh."

You almost step on his toes as you kiss his hot cheek. He smells nice. You set back on your heels and linger, trying to work out what his cologne smells like. Something fresh, not quite lemony.

You get a bit dizzy and carried away, stroking the curve of his arm with the back of your hand. Steve makes a sound like a hiccup and you remember yourself, stepping away bashfully, afraid to meet his eyes.

"So," Steve says, sounding relieved. Excited. "You'll go?"

"Yeah. It sounds awesome."

"It's a date," he says.

You tell him your address and he promises to call you to smooth out all the details but he really has to go to work. You climb back up the stairs and close the door almost all the way, watching as Steve gets in his car through the crack. He sits motionless for a bit before he fist pumps the air, says, "Yes! Ugh, yes. Still got it. Still got it, Hawkins."

You close the door.

"Ew, you look happy. Harrington cop a feel?" Eddie says.

"Something like that."

You're running down a dark alleyway with Steve's hand in yours. He's almost dragging you. Dude runs fast.

"I ran track!" he tells you helpfully.

You can't help the breathless laughing as you go, nervous and humming with energy. You'd both been having a great time at dinner and lost track of time, and now it's twenty minutes until doors open for Day of the Dead and neither of you look particularly lifeless.

You almost slam into the back door of his BMW, scrambling inside. Steve is quick behind you, upending the bag with your change of clothes onto the back seat. Your makeup and fake blood tumble out after it. He reaches up to turn on the overhead light.

"Fuck," Steve says, face carved in shadow. "Fuck. We don't have time."

"Sure we do," you say, tugging your shirt off quickly. Steve looks pointedly away once he notices your predicament. You chuckle. "Steve, just get changed. I don't care if you look."

"I'm a gentleman," he insists, rushing, the two of you folding and bumping into each other in a hurry to get dressed into your old clothes.

You catch flashes of his bare chest as he buttons down then buttons up, his legs, his thighs. You feel heat lick every stretch of skin you have at the sight. Oh, he's hairy, you think, and then have to slam your eyes shut to stop from thinking sick (completely normal, dirty) thoughts.

You pull your tights off of your ankles, blush at the idea of being sequestered in a car with him in your underwear, and leap to replace them with a pair of tight, pinstriped trousers, shrugging into them with great difficulty. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you pull on your blouse, white for the best fake blood effect, buttoning up just enough to hide your bra.

Make up next. You want to look scary and, importantly, believable. You fish for the make up you'd brought and have managed to suitably brush up your dark eyes with purples to look bruised and sickly by the time Steve has finished redressing. He tightens the tie around his neck.

"You next," you say.

Steve hesitates. "I've never done any makeup before."

You don't blink. "That's okay. I'll do it for you, if you want me to."

Steve climbs closer over your discarded clothes, close enough to hear his breathing, still fast. You brush the hair out of his eyes and they find yours, the two of you sharing a private smile, though there's no one else around.

"Will you ruin my good looks?"

"You'll be a very handsome zombie," you promise.

You reach for his face.

"You need to get closer," you tell him, fingers hooked under his ear. You tilt his head to the light.

"I can't," he says.

You steel your nerves and grab onto his shoulder gently, anchoring yourself as you climb up into his lap. If he's surprised he doesn't show it, his big hands coming up to your waist. You can feel the heat of each finger clearly on your skin where he grips you and the heat of his thighs like a furnace underneath yours. You try not to brush against him, standing up on your knees.

You use your fingers, rubbing them gently in the powder shadows and then over his silky skin. Big stripes of purple, a wash of yellow around his pretty eyes. He closes them as you dab a dark red under his eyelashes. You grow closer still, your breath fanning over his face. His hand skips respectably over your back and down to your thigh, holding you up. It's helpful. It's torture. You try not to breathe too loudly.

"You have really soft skin," you say, using your thumb to spread dark contour under his cheekbone, one side of his face gaunt.

You cover your work with your hand as his eyes open.

"Yeah?" he asks.

This closeness. Suddenly, abruptly, the feelings you're trying to push down rear their heads, and the heat becomes hard to ignore.

"Yeah," you murmur, thumb under his eye. He looks ridiculous. You know you look the same.

"Am I done?" he asks. His hand squeezes your thigh as he adjusts his hold.

"Not quite," you say.

You finish his makeup in silence. Time slows. You forget that you're late, content to feel his features under your hands, to learn the planes and dips of his face for the first time like this. You tuck his hair behind his ears carefully, smoothing back his hairline.

He's looking up at you. You sit down in his lap and he moves his hands to behind your back, his head following you down intently. He looks serious.

You draw your hand from his face and drop it onto his thigh, your rings brushing over starchy slacks.

It's his turn to touch you. Steve's hand comes to your face, his broad palm over the entirety of your cheek. You wait for something though you're not sure what, frozen with apprehension, simply watching him take you in.

"Do I look scary?" you ask, eyes on his lips.

They part before he answers, like he knows what he's going to say before he says it. "Horrifying," he murmurs wryly, hand gently pulling your face towards his.

You lift your chin to meet his lips, the muscles of his forearms shifting against your chest as he cups your face in both hands, guiding you to him. Your lips touch, tentative at first, one small kiss that feels more than warm, a homely, perfect fit. He pulls back and you don't, tapping the tip of his nose with yours until he opens his mouth.

You sneak in as his hand runs down your neck, your arm, slow and sleek. He makes a small sound as he takes the lead, opening you up, and it tickles your lips with its vibrations. He sounds content. You're feeling similarly happy, grabbing at his hand where it holds your face, squeezing his wrist to hold it in place as you push yourself into his arms. He takes you eagerly, pulling you chest to chest.

His head bumps the window. You pull apart, panting and happy and giggling, your lips damp and tingling. Steve rubs the back of his head, looking at you with an expression you can't describe.

"What?" you ask, wiping at his bottom lip with your thumb where your lipstick has stained him.

"How come you're so pretty, even like this?"

"Like this, a zombie?" Steve nods slowly. "Let me know when you find out, Harrington."

He pulls you back in with a smirk that sets your tummy aflame. "You think I'm pretty?" he asks, lips a millimetre from yours.

"Super pretty," you say, and kiss him. He loves on your top lip like you've got all the time in the world, kisses warm and slick. "Almost as pretty as me," you say between them.

He slows your kisses, gives you one last peck over your burning mouth. "No one's as pretty as you," he says agreeably.

You beam. Steve beams back though it quickly fades as he brings his arm up to check his watch.

"We're so late," he says, manhandling you off of his lap with an apologetic grimace. "C'mon, we still gotta cover you in blood."

You both get out and Steve sprays you down with fake blood. You laugh as he does, the cold liquid tickling your skin as it trickles down your face and your chest and your tummy.

Steve takes his own bloodying with far less laughter though he smiles at your glee. He's so handsome you can't help it, stepping into his space for another kiss. There's blood on your lips, evidently, as it transfers to his.

"We need to go," you say, like it's his fault.

"Wait. I have something for you."

Steve opens the driver's side and takes a small object from under the seat. He hands it to you.

"I called in a favour. Dustin and Lucas fixed it up, I checked, like, ten tapes. It works."

In your hands the bane of your existence, your faulty Walkman. There's a fake blood mark in the shape of his thumbprint on the side and you decide you're going to leave it there forever, looking to him with a completely uncool amount of affection.

"Steve," you say happily, a heat behind your eyes.

"I got sick of seeing you pouting, that's all," he says hotly, crossing his arm over his chest. "Now you can stop sulking."

You throw your hands around his neck to hug him tightly, the Walkman pressed to his neck. He oomphs, hands flying to your sides. Your face against his shoulder, you curl a strand of his brown hair around one of your fingers. "Thank you." You dot a corn syrup kiss against his throat. "You're the coolest," you say as you pull away.

His hands move from around your back to your shoulders, holding you at arms length. "People have said that about me."

"I bet."

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thanks for reading! | my masterlist

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #eddie munson x reader platonic

11K notes · View notes

partycatty · 9 days

Text

johnny cage > keep it down

it's hard to focus on johnny's movie when he's aching and needy under your shared blanket.

warnings: handjorb... got bored and decided to give this an... exotic twist.

notes: @spacepl4ant i hope you like what i did to your idea LMAO

[ masterlist ]

• johnny's getting on in years, and you often poke fun at him for falling asleep in his comically large recliner, or his complaints about the younger generation when he gets a little too nostalgic. as famous as he is now, he defends his prime like a religion. this includes a movie night every week, and you half-protest to his own films each time. unfortunately for you, you caved when he gave you his world famous puppy eyes. damn him and his manipulative pleading stare!

• he was eerily silent about halfway through, lips sucked in firm and brows furrowed, hips adjusting ever so slightly every few minutes. he looked feverish, a little offputting, and his radiating heat was hard to ignore.

• the sighs and borderline whines were enough to fully grab your attention. "everything alright over there?" you glance at his form, his pajamas even still flattering his form beyond belief. he returns a side-eyed look, like a dog caught eating plastic.

• "mmh?" his exhale has a pathetic hum to it, lids low and pupils blown out. you'd been with johnny long enough to know that look, the one of sudden arousal. his sex drive was incredible for a guy his age, you were truly blessed, weren't you?

• you hum back, chuckling at his neediness as your hand snakes along his pajama-clad thigh. slowly gliding your hand up to his yes-yes zone, you catch a feel of his meatstick.

• "need some help there?" you smirk up at him, shuffling closer and shifting your torso to face him better. his grin is lazy, nodding twice with a droopy head before stealing a quick kiss from your parted lips.

• "you know me too well," he shifts his hips forward, fingers already notching into his waistband and tugging down his pants leaving only a starry pair of boxers. you two share a cute giggle that quickly turns into desperate groans, clashing your lips together as the heat settles into the situation.

• johnny couldn't wait a moment more, he never could, and puts your hand in his as he slowly glides across his gear shifter. you feel its length and weight as you lift it from his thigh, stroking his weewee through his underwear.

• his head rolls back, already being overwhelmed from the way you squeeze his pork whistle to make it throb and hips writhe in desperation. precum wets his boxers, sticky with his horniness for you at any given moment. you were his drug, and he couldn't help but be turned on every moment he laid his eyes on you. a quiet room, hum of a movie, and warm blanket set things over for him tonight.

• you grip and tease his lincoln log in spiral strokes, and his hips twitch upward at the sudden change in movement. johnny fears that if you two get beyond his underwear, he might cum from the skin contact alone.

• johnny's weenor aches, a tight fist in his pants that takes over his senses as he covers his face with his forearm, biting his bottom lip as pathetic whimpers escapes his lips. it was cute to unwind such a big, dominant man on his submissive days, which were few and far in between.

• your fingers dance on the waistband of his underwear, sliding up and down his salt and pepper happy trail. he unshields his eyes for only a second, breathing a deep groan when he gets a good look at your hand bobbing underneath the plush blanket.

• "fuck, fuck, m'so good for me-" is all he can muster to say, curses and praises pouring from his lips that are borderline incoherent when you grip his tinky winky at last, running your thumb along the length of his juanito and coating it in his seemingly endless stream of precum. he was slick and in need of more friction, teetering on the edge of begging. johnny never begs.

• johnny's fingers dig into the armrest of the couch, bucking his hips up and fucking his danger noodle into your palm. he wanted to take what he wanted, attempting to take control but it felt so fucking hard when you were in control. his eyes felt wet and glassy, brows furrowed so hard his forehead was beginning to ache.

• his hotdog beat hard in your hand, his heartbeat and needy throbs increasingly more prevalent as he neared his end. johnny could feel it, knowing he was close, and you could tell through his whimpers that only spill out when he's dangerously close. he hooks his fingers on the blanket, tugging it down to his thighs with a deep moan as he finally gets a good view of your hand reaching into his pajama pants and stroking his disco stick with such fervor it was going to make him cry at the sight.

• you bite your lip as you focus, your arm growing tired of the consistent motion but purely motivated by his whimpers and cries for release, a sound you wish to never forget.

• at the last possible moment, johnny wraps his large hand over yours, stroking his pickle rick alongside yours at a lightning pace. it was what he needed, more than anything, to paint both of your hands with his cum and stuff it into your pretty mouth.

• the thought sends him over the edge, his skin flute twitching with each rope of cum that shoots out. your hands, his stomach and thighs were quickly painted, a complete mess made of his arousal and johnny could just grin with the least amount of shame one man could have.

• "i love when you take control," he breathlessly admits, admiring the way you slowly and lazily stroke his slowly softening yogurt hose. "it's not often, but it drives me fuckin' crazy, you know."

• "i know," you place a chaste kiss to his lips, grinning into his face as your noses brush against each other. "you look so pretty when i do."

• "you always know how to flatter me," he pats your thigh with his clean hand, glancing down at his filthy one after. he chuckles dryly, displaying his palm to you and spreading his fingers apart to show the mess he made. "get a towel for me, sugar? i'd do it myself but i'd rather not leave a trail."

• "you're gross," you swat at his shoulder, which causes zero effect on his large figure. he just grins sleepily in response, shrugging ever so slightly. he knows you'll take him either way.

• "awh, we missed the best part!" he flutters a hand at you as you walk off, eyes transfixed on the screen once more. "ohh, that scene took days to shoot!"

• "you just came in my hand and you went straight back to the tv," you sarcastically groan, returning with a wet rag to wipe his thighs and stomach clean. "we should really stop all these movie nights."

• he puts a hand to his chest with an offended gasp. "what are you saying?"

• "i'm sayiiiing," you pull lint from his shirt. "that we need to just keep it down and stop the funny business if you want me to actually watch your movies."

• "you love it," he beckons toward you and you cuddle up to his side, the blanket discarded as the heat would have left you two sweaty after all that's happened. "so... should i rewind, orrrr...?"

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mortal kombat smut #mk11

144 notes · View notes

miraclewoozi · 10 months

Text

VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. -l.jh

ooh, i love that dress but you won’t need it anymore –

Or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just… not go to your dinner plans.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem reader. content; fluff, suggestive (MINORS DNI). established relationship. warnings; relatively warning free (y'all i didn't even swear???) but just in case -- a couple of dorky jokes, reader wears a dress, makeup and heels, making out, undressing. let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c; 2.4k (apparently i am in my shorter fic era? party.) note; if there's one thing i'm gonna do, no matter what day of the week it is, it's be disgustingly delusional about jihoon. get ur dentists on speedial, it's a tooth rotter (/j). note 2.0; i've had this one in the drafts for so long i had forgotten all about it! but then VOTF came on shuffle a few days ago (and i started thinking about light a flame woozi at the same time, which nearly fucking killed me), so. here we are. enjoy.<3

You don’t go out for dates very often. Not anymore, at least.

When you and Jihoon first got together, he took you out all the time. For dinners, to cocktail bars, to the movies, for walks down the beach, picnics by the river. It didn’t matter where you went as long as it put a smile on your face — all he ever wanted to do was make you feel special. No expense has ever been too great for his favourite girl, after all; he’s always loved to spoil you.

Now several years into your relationship, you’re a real pair of homebodies. Sure, he could take you out for a four course dinner at an expensive restaurant in the middle of the city, or reserve a table at a pretentious cocktail bar that plays slightly too loud music that’s always just to the left of either of your tastes. Then again… He could cook a nice meal for you to have at the apartment you share, where you can make your way through a bottle of bubbles without one of you needing to stay sober to drive home or else risk your lives in a sketchy cab.

It’s something you’ve talked about several times, and on every occasion, it’s quite apparent that you’re both very happy with the way things are. If anything, it makes it all the more special when he tells you he needs you to keep your weekend free because he’s making plans, and he wants to whisk you away.

Like now, for instance. The hotel suite he’s booked is gorgeous and you’re perched on the edge of the plush bedding, bent over double so that you can properly fasten your shoes while he finishes getting ready in the bathroom. Now and again, you hear a grumble or a click of his tongue float through the ajar door; every time, you feel a smile play at your lips as you shake your head. He never changes. (You’re so glad.)

“Jihoon,” you call to him softly. You can practically see how he’ll be standing – facing the mirror, on his tiptoes to lean over the bathroom counter and get as close to his own reflection as he possibly can. Pouting as his fingers drag through his hair to try and fix the strands in place just a tiny bit better. “Don’t you dare come out here looking like Sonic the Hedgehog. You know the more you play with it, the more annoyed you’re going to get.”

A few seconds later, he emerges, an eyebrow raised in challenge, an amused grin tugging his lips out of their habitual frown.

(And lo and behold — his hair looks absolutely fine.)

But the second he sees you, whatever witty comeback he was obviously very proud of dies on his lips, and you straighten up with only one of your shoes secured to your foot, the other just slipped on over your toes.

“Wow,” he says, in that soft, deep, quiet way that he does when you’ve really taken his breath away. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows; you see his brow crinkle and his eyes widen, as if he’s trying to see as much of you as he possibly can. “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” you nod proudly, sitting back and smoothing your hands over the dress you’re wearing. “From our first anniversary.”

As his eyes move over you, taking in everything from the way the straps sit on your shoulders to the way the hem lays across your thigh, your own eyes move over him. The top three buttons of his shirt are still unfastened and his tie hangs either side, tucked beneath his collar but not knotted yet. His slacks have been cleanly pressed, a neat, crisp seam running down the front of both legs. Shoes shined to perfection. Expensive watch strapped around his wrist.

He might just be the most handsome man in the entire world.

“I remember you saying you really liked it, so… I dug it out, special.”

“You look incredible,” he says. It’s so gentle, so sincere, that you think your heart is about to burst clean out of your chest. Warmth trickles the length of your spine, and it isn’t exactly helped when you realise – only now as he starts to cross the room to get closer to you – that he hadn’t moved an inch since he surfaced from the bathroom almost a full ninety seconds ago.

He shrinks down so he’s rested on both of his knees in front of you, skilful hands moving to help with the shoe you hadn’t managed to lace up yet. every time his fingertips so much as brush against your skin, the electricity in his gentle touches shoots all the way from the point of contact up to your brain and leaves it fogged, impossible to make any sense through the thick clouds of intimacy and adoration. More-so as he smoothly lifts your leg a little and presses his lips once to the inside of your ankle, even foggier still as he trails kisses up the length of your calf towards your knee.

“Jihoon,” you laugh breathlessly, laying a hand on his shoulder as you feel his tongue press lightly against your skin. He finally sits back on his heels, running his fingers up and down the backs of your legs; he’s successfully managed to hike your dress up a few inches now, too, and he keeps flitting his gaze between your face and your thighs. “We can’t – we’ll be late.”

“We have ages,” he frowns, shuffling closer and trying to bump your knees apart, but you keep your muscles engaged and he doesn’t pull at them that hard, so they don’t budge.

“We have to get there, too,” you remind him. He throws his head back and sighs dramatically. The neckline of his dress shirt seems to open a little more when he looks back at you, drawing your attention down the length of his neck to his bulging chest, and the muscular forearms that he crosses in front of it.

“And this is why we don’t go out.”

“What, because you’re horny all the damn time?” You tease.

He gently swats at the top of your thigh before soothing it with another small kiss.

“Because when you look this good, how am I supposed to want to go and eat a steak instead?”

He grins up at you from the floor, quite clearly delighted with himself for his little gag. You, however, flop back onto the mattress and cover your face with your hands.

“That was so bad,” you chuckle. You’ve been trying for years to not melt to his very specific sense of humour, but it’s all been completely futile. Your reluctant laughs turn to sweet, breathy giggles by the time he lays both his arms across your legs and rests his chin on top of them. You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him; he’s staring up at your face like he thinks he’ll never see anything as beautiful as you for the rest of his life.

“Maybe… We don’t have to go out for dinner,” he suggests. “Maybe we can stay in tonight, too.”

“Horndog.” You tsk. But you’re not disappointed at the idea of staying in, either, regardless of whether your teasing implies otherwise. “I knew you’d say that.”

“No — really,” he swallows. You aren’t sure if you can feel his heart beating a little faster where his chest is pressed completely against your shins, or if you’re just imagining it. But the tips of his ears are going pink too, so you think it’s safe to trust your intuition on this one. “I mean-… we don’t have to go. I could-…”

He bites the inside of his cheek before he looks down, pressing his forehead against his arms and hiding his face completely.

“I could do it here.”

He says these words quietly. Mumbles them, really. You aren’t sure if you were meant to hear, or if he was just talking to himself. But either way, it has to be worth a shot to find out.

“What do you mean, Ji?”

One, two, three seconds pass. And… Nothing.

“Hey.”

You bounce your thighs a little so he’s forced to look up at you, and you can see something swimming in his eyes. Something brewing. He sits back from you and pushes a hand through his hair; a few strands lose their stick to the rest of the main body and tumble down over his forehead. Exactly in the way he was trying to prevent.

“I could just do it here.”

He says this louder. Clearer. With much more finality. You sit up properly, then, both your hands clasped together in your lap.

“Do what here, baby?”

His eyes find yours and you sit there for a few moments, unwrapping each other's minds with nothing more than a look and a matching pair of gentle — but slightly concerned — smiles.

He moves one hand down and slips it into the back left pocket of his slacks. You think you can feel the world around you start to slow.

When he shifts a leg from beneath him so he’s on one knee before you and presents you with a glittering diamond ring, it stops altogether.

“Jihoon,” you breathe.

He glances between the ring and you, biting his bottom lip before he speaks.

“I had it-… I had everything planned.” He laughs, looking away from your face as even more rising heat becomes evident on his own. “Down to the second, even. But just like you always do — just like the first time I saw you, and just like every time since… You threw me a curve ball and… Somehow, you’ve changed everything. But you made it so much better.

“I think I was supposed to find you, y/n,” Jihoon says. “I don't know what’s up there, what’s in charge of when we meet the people we meet and why we fall in love with the people we fall in love with. but I know that they were really looking out for me the day you came into my life.”

You can feel your eyes starting to sting at the corners and you will the tears away, desperate not to smudge the makeup you spent so long trying to perfect. You know he’d love you either way — mascara tear tracks and splotchy concealer and all — but…

“I am so in love with you that sometimes, it really hurts. It hurts because I know that no one’s ever going to come close — about anyone in the world — to feeling the way I feel about you. I feel bad for everyone, a bit. Because you’re not-… you're not with them. You’re with me. But I wouldn’t want any of them to be with you, because-... and… and if you’ll have me, I want you to be with me forever.”

You don't know when you started slowly nodding along to his little monologue, but you definitely are. You’re not sure when you started holding your breath either, but that’s two for two. He looks up at you, expectantly, fluttering his eyelashes and stuttering out a long, deep breath.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

Some decisions, you’ve always thought, are made for you at a cosmic level. Your favourite colours. Your favourite foods. Hot and cold weather people. Loving or hating marmite. A predisposition to enjoying scary movies or being the kind of person who hides behind a pillow.

This is another one of those. You don’t have to think twice about it — you just know. You know because a great unstoppable force managed to squeeze you together at the perfect moment in time; the ever-expanding universe around you has kept you and Jihoon side by side through everything it could possibly throw at you.

“Yes.”

Of course you want to spend your forever with him.

The word leaves your mouth in a whisper and everything flies back into motion. The first black droplet rolls down your cheek. His usually so steady hands fumble with yours to slide the ring over your finger. A perfect fit. You’re hurtling through space and time as he gets up off his knees and cups your cheeks, gently pulling you upright and crashing his lips against yours. You stumble into him slightly in your heels; his kiss is more a chaotic clatter of teeth and giddy laughter than perhaps the intense, romantic gesture he was aiming for, but it’s completely, utterly, unequivocally perfect.

Jihoon’s fancy dress shirt creases under your fingers as you ball it into your fists where the top buttons are spread open, pulling him as close as you can, laughter dying down as he loses himself in you and as you lose yourself in him, right back. He swallows all of your gasps and sighs, hands sliding down from your face to the sides of your neck, until he’s resting a palm on each of your shoulders. A single finger slips beneath one of the straps and he pulls it out of the way, down onto your arm, withdrawing from your mouth so that he can press a series of kisses down your cheek and to your jaw instead.

“Ji,” you murmur, tipping your head back and fumbling at the buttons running the length of his torso, trying and failing to get them open. He chuckles, his other hand coming to rest over yours to stop you. You lace your fingers together, feeling him squeeze. Your heart pounds.

“Let's take our time,” he whispers to you, thumb grazing over your collarbone. “Okay?”

All you can do is nod as he kisses lower, and lower, pressing his lips everywhere he can while he’s still standing. Your neck and shoulders feel ablaze, tickling with the heat of the burning stars his mouth paints across your skin.

“Need-... Ji, you need to-... call… call the restaurant,” you stutter. “Gotta…. we need to cancel…”

The fleeting sting of his teeth against your throat interrupts you and you’re only aware of him reaching behind you to tug the zipper of your dress down when the material falls completely slack..

“In a minute,” he says, helping you walk backwards until your calves collide with the bed behind you once again. He eases you to lie down on the comforter and crawls on top of you, caging you in with both arms, taking hold of your left hand again.

He looks down at the ring on your finger, his entire face breaking into the most brilliant of smiles. Every inch, from the creases at the corners of his eyes to the paling stretch of his beautiful lips.

“My future wife needs taking care of, first.”

– no you won’t need it no more, let’s just kiss ‘til we’re naked, baby.

hehe thank u sm for reading!! i hope you enjoyed this bc it was a bit special 2 me. likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all, as always, greatly appreciated.<3

#woozi fluff #woozi fic #woozi x reader #lee jihoon fluff #lee jihoon fic #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #j writes.#*#running off into the void now <3 don't perceive me BYE

491 notes · View notes

arabaka · 1 year

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ gojo satoru x fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! recorded sex. ass play. pet names used: baby, princess, gorgeous, good girl, etc. mention of belly bulge. DADDY KINK. creampie. WORD COUNT: 2.7K PSD CREDIT !!!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI !!!!!!! ✧(🝦言🝦╬)

Gojo Satoru loves movies.

He loves watching them, but not as much as he loves making them.

"Just like that– hah, just look at you, my pretty baby." Cerulean blues obscured by his blindfold, Gojo stares at you in wonder of how someone like you is with someone like him… And so good to him to boot. You on the bed, him standing right by the edge– it’s the perfect scene.

He’s spoiled with choices– just where should he look? He could watch your pussy grind on his fingers, your hole twitching around him and gushing slick in tandem with his pumps. Or he can look back, watch your face for those delicious expressions of pure ecstasy when he crooks his fingers along the very spot that makes you sing and cry. Both views pinnacles of perfection but he ultimately decides to look right into the camera, his phone on a tripod, and watch himself finger that tight little pussy he’s taken to calling his.

Your ass winds back, back arching when you feel Gojo fill you to his knuckles, popping another finger in for good measure because you just give him the prettiest sighs when he does. You know better than to hide anything from him so even though you want to bury your face in your silk sheets, let the mattress swallow all your guttural noises, you stay on all fours with your legs trembling ever so slightly. Your stomach flutters when his hand comes to dip along your spine, palm still flat when he reaches the plush roundness of your bottom. He gives you a good shake for the camera, grinning wide as he watches your ass jiggle in the viewfinder. “So good and all for me, yeah?” Gojo’s voice always carries, he’s just naturally loud like that but there’s a certain air of showmanship woven into his words that makes it clear this is a performance and he’s going to savor this film for months to come.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Your ass stings under the weight of Gojo’s spankings, his large hands covering so much of you your knees are almost buckling from the intensity. He’s up to three fingers now, scissoring so deep inside you that your gummy walls shake all around him. His thumb, just as eager for action, tenderly starts to prod into your asshole, getting your taut little rim to pucker for him just like your trained cunt. “This mine too?” He phrases it like a question but it’s completely rhetorical. Of course it’s his. Of course you belong to him.

You squeak, incapable of seeing, knowing, what Gojo has in store for you but that just makes it all the more thrilling. Your folds are dripping with arousal, shivering in the cool air. He notices your goosebumps because nothing escapes the attention of the Gojo Satoru. “Feeling cold, baby? Need me to warm you up?” He never needs to ask twice but you hesitate, lids fluttering like crazy when you start to feel his thumb probe further into your cute, but still resisting, asshole. “Relax for me,” He’s so soft spoken with you when the time’s right, “Open up for Daddy.”

Well, that’ll do it.

Just the name gets you going, sparks flying in your brain until it feels like melted mush, but you’re treated to an even greater pleasure when Gojo finally gets his thumb in, the fatter digit slowly coaxing the taut ring into letting him in deeper and deeper. He hasn’t forgotten about your pussy, those fingers are still pumping you nice and full you are dripping down your thighs. It gives such a gorgeous shine for the camera. He just can’t tear his eyes away.

You’re seeing stars, no– whole galaxies when your vision starts to falter, the haze of the overwhelming pressure pulsing from your legs finally settling in. You hear your heart thump, thump, thump in your ears; you think it’s so loud, there’s no way Gojo isn’t privy to it. And you’d be right.

“Got you crazy for me and I haven’t even fucked you proper yet.” Gojo’s chuckling, chest light but also drumming as you start to crumple all around him. The cavern of your cunt closes in around his fingers, the suction making him want to drill harder into you. You can take it right? He wants to see you come undone from just his fingers but god, his cock is beating against the confines of his work pants and briefs it’s almost painful.

So generous as he is, he makes you an offer. “Wanna cum on my fingers, baby? Or you want Daddy’s cock?” He gives a flashy, smug smirk to the camera. The bastard.

“C-Cock, your cock! Please, please, please, please.” Oh, he’s already got you falling apart from three fingers in that desperate cunt of yours and one plugging up your asshole but you need more. You need him. “Wanna feel your cock, Daddy.” You never sound better than when you’re begging, Gojo thinks.

He’s so sweet but first he’s a little cruel with how fast his fingers vacate your holes, taking a second and then two and then three to admire how appetizing it looks to see your holes gasp around nothing but air, wondering where all that pressure went. “So fuckin’ sweet for me. Okay princess, I’ll give ya what you want.”

You move like a weakened animal, crawling on your hands and knees with thighs wobbling from the sudden absence of pleasure. It’s a delicious sight. Too delicious to waste.

“Hold on.” In the middle of cleaning his hands, Gojo’s orders are swift and you dare to whine, but you already know your meek protesting is going to get you nowhere. Your back tenses when you feel his hand start to follow the slope of your spine, his palm treated to goosebumps that quickly prickle your body. His fingers tenderly cup your chin, directing you to look at him in an angle that benefits both him and the camera. “Why don’t you show the camera the mess we made?”

His eyes are still hidden by his blindfold and that’s by design; he doesn’t want his plan spoiled by the telltale mischievous glint in his eyes.

He helps you to your feet, ushering you in front of him and helps himself to fondling your breasts, giving you a well deserved groan as he deepens his massage and takes to pinching your nipples for good measure. You always give him the prettiest moans when he does and you don’t disappoint this time either. Your nipples harden as his fingertips tweak and tug, rousing a pitiful mewl each time he does.

You feel his smirk along the shell of your ear before his teeth come out to play and you can’t help but jerk your hips back, gasping when you feel his erection right up your asscheeks. “Gojo,” You can barely utter above a whisper, “Please… Need you.”

“Yeah, yeah, just let Daddy see ya for a little bit longer.” He steals a kiss from you while you’re looking up at him for help, help he won’t give you. Not yet.

Gojo starts to drum his fingers all along your waist, getting to your hips and giving you a squeeze before his hands start to trickle down to your cunt. You’re so wet, so drenched in your juices. It’s a shame he doesn’t get to taste you tonight, but you’re sure to satisfy him anyways. “Go ahead and spread that around for me, huh gorgeous?” Gojo’s purrs have your brain electrified, the shock going right to your trembling clit, your bundle of nerves so desperate to be satiated.

But you listen to Gojo, you always do– you start to tend to your swollen nub, a wave of pleasure falling over you as you do. Your lashes come together, eyes closing as you continue your fine-tuned ministrations, grinding into your own touch and giving Gojo the performance he wants.

All the while, you don’t realize Gojo has fished his engorged and hungry cock from his pants and underwear, both articles still on because the idea of taking you, all naked and bare for him while he’s still in uniform does something to him. He takes a peek at the tripod, grinning when he finds you so lost in your masturbation. Perfect.

He is massive. He’s as long as he is wide; his dick’s the stuff of dreams. Pre-cum is already seeping from the slit atop his bulbous tip and he’s so needy for you, you can tell by the way he jerks his thick foreskin up and over the head to spread the lubrication. Not that he needs it– your cunt is crying for him.

“You ready for me baby?” His hot breath on your ear lights your skin on fire and you can’t nod fast enough. “Not gonna go easy on you.” His murmuring comes with a bite, and it isn’t a threat but a promise.

With his hands on your waist and guiding you, you lean back– impatient for his cock. “Do you ever?” Your reply rides on a lofty exhale when you feel him at your entrance. You start to lower yourself onto Gojo’s shaft. Bottom lip squeezed between your teeth and breath stagnant, you open for him. Your pussy hole pulsates, stretching over the dome of his cockhead until he’s in and he’s so dense. You aren’t even past the ridge of his glans yet, that’s how packed he is.

“Godddddd— fuckin’ tight.” The groan that comes from the back of his throat is carnal. No matter how many times he’s fucked that cunt of yours into submission, written his name in strings of searing hot and white cum, you still possess that same pressure that drives him absolutely insane. “C’mon baby, open up for me.” He starts to rut into you, cock twitching and inching its way inside you until your walls are wrapping around the density of his dick and kissing the veins that ornate his length. “There you go, there you go. My good girl taking me in so well. Like Daddy taught ya.” He coos, knowing just how to stroke your praise kink in all the right ways.

Your gasp gives way to a chorus of lovely moans, Satoru thrown in when your ass rubs against his pelvis, your hole having taking Gojo all the way to the hilt. He fills you out, fills you up so perfectly. You don’t know how you do it; the man is much bigger than you, stronger than you but instead of splitting you in two in pain, he only gives you euphoria.

You can stay like this, you think– take him like this, on your feet with him standing behind you but Gojo has something different in mind and you are none the wiser.

The hands at your waist now jerk you back and in one fell swoop, Gojo lands on the bed, dragging you with him and with him still fully sheathed inside you. The force pushes a cry right from your chest and your legs bounce apart, hooking just over Gojo’s. The end result? Your pretty pussy, folds sticky and glossy with webs from your slick, on full display for the camera (and for Gojo’s later viewing pleasure).

Oh and he doesn’t stop there. Your Gojo Satoru is a menace; you’ve known this from the moment you laid eyes on him. Now his hands are squeezing you, hoisting you up and down on his cock in such a brutal way but he’s wiping your vision clean. He’s not giving you any room to even think about anything else. He wants you dumb and drunk on his cock and my god, he’s going to get you there.

“Sa- Sa- Satoru!” Your voice bobbing with every thrust inside you, volume trying to compete with the loud squelches erupting from where his cock is pummeling into your cunt. You were already sopping wet, droplets of your essence running down your legs but now it’s flying everywhere.

“Baby, didn’t you want this cock so badly just a moment ago? Why you cryin’ now?” The teasing comes with a lick to your earlobe, an appetizer before he launches an all out assault on your neck, nipping and sucking with the goal of raising your flesh to cry out for him. It works; your skin blooms just a beautiful shade for him, a color only he can paint you.

Your groans die out– all you can do is whimper now, arms flailing out to grab something for support. Oh, you need help don’t you? Gojo will take care of you. He constricts you with his arms around your abdomen. You can feel his bulging muscles even from under his work jacket and that just stirs the flame of pleasure at your core even more.

He’s merciless, bullying your cunt as it weeps all over him. Who cares about his clothes getting dirty? It wouldn’t be the first time and it sure as hell won’t be the last. His cock goes in and out of your hole, pushing his way in and making your insides feel like mush. There’s a very defined line showing just where his cock is inside you; it’s shifting up and down, up and down on your stomach and you’d be able to see it so clearly on the video… If you could see clearly at all, that is.

Your vision is still hazy, eyes constantly rolling back with your lips permanently parted while your jaw is slack. You’re too wrought with pleasure to care about the way you look– which is fucked stupid. You can barely get your tongue rolling with his name. Satoru keeps getting broken down to mere syllables.

You’re wrecked with his cock.

“Like that baby? Like the way Daddy fills you up? Say this pussy is mine, baby– say it, I know you can.” Gojo demands in the middle of sloppy kisses and licks up your neck and to your cheek, the skin shining with his spit but you still look like a goddess. A goddess fallen, anyways.

“Y-Yes, yes, yes! Sososososososo good, nnngh – haa, haa – don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” The two of you are making the walls shake with your ruckus: Gojo’s cock pumping in and out of you, a heavenly mixture of your essence with his pre-cum sloshing and splattering everywhere, and your cries of deep, erotic bliss.

He’s fucking into you at an alarming rate, incapable of slowing down– not when your pussy feels this good. You’re wrapped around him so well; this pussy is molded for him, he thinks. His girth stretches you wide and his length hits you up to your guts. He has your stomach brimming with buzzing butterflies.

The timer on the phone ticks up. There’s seconds that go by and then minutes, Gojo still injecting you full of his swollen cock. You feel his shaft warble inside of you, can feel the veins grind along your wall’s ridges and you know he’s going to cum soon, fast, and hard. “C-Cum inside me, S-Satoru. P-Please, fill me up.” You’re begging, so needy for him to cum because honestly, you’re right on the edge of your own release.

He knows it too, has memorized your body’s subtle language and he’ll give it to you, give his all to you until you know nothing but his cock buried deep inside you. “Gonna give it to you baby, so get ready to fuckin’ take it.” He makes you absolutely fall apart when his hands sloppily cups your folds, fingers messily flicking your clit and pinching before rolling fast circles over the fattened hood.

You cum so fast, your head spins. The cork in your belly pops, your cum cascading down his length and leaving the lap of his slacks a drenched mess. He stuffs your release back into you and using the strength in his arms, holds you nice and steady while he beats his thick cock into you until his balls tighten and you’ve squeezed every stream of cum from the tip. Your walls become so packed with his cum, he’s shot loads and loads so what can you expect?

You are spent, only capable of dizzied pants and a vision that’s flickering at best. But that’s not the send off he wants, now is it?

“Say bye-bye to the camera, love.” He croons in your ear, an impish smile plastered on his features. “Or ya wanna go for round two?”

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 🍰 ɞ ₊˚. ꒰ a little treat for gojo. ꒱

1K notes · View notes

ultralightpoe · 5 months

Text

Full House lll - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Omg. Me? Staying on schedule? Never.

Word Count: 10112

Warnings: None? Idk.

Part One HERE and Part Two HERE

(Thank you for the gif @psychecreations )

Enjoy!

“When’s the first doctors appointment?” Nancy asks, walking up to where you were currently standing at your jobs wait station. You jump, dropping the order pad you had been scribbling in as you turn to find her leaning on the wall.

“What? Why are you here?”

“I was craving chicken and didn’t want to hear Steves kfc imitation. So we decided to come here.” She smiles, rubbing her stomach ever so slightly. “Plus it meant I got to check on you.”

“Oh I’m fine.” You lie, forcing a smile on your face as she narrows her eyes.

It’s been 4 days since the Christmas fiasco, and 4 days since you realized Eddie was leaving. You tried to pick yourself back up the day of Christmas but ended up telling everyone that you were really sick and should shut the party down early. They had all gone to Steves and you were truly embarrassed to think of what they might have been saying about you.

God, did you have to ruin everything you touched?

“You never answered my question.”

“Oh? I was just sick. It’s not a serious bug or anything. I just didn’t want to get you guys sick on Christmas. That would have been bad” you lie again, feeling a coiling feeling in your gut. “Why don’t you go sit?”

“Y/n, girl I love you. But you’re showing.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Especially in this waitressing uniform.” It was true. Normally the old school 70s uniform fit you like a glove, falling just to your thighs and it made tips so much easier. Right now? It was on the tighter side…… which made tips even easier because your boobs looked great but you felt terrible about everything.

“Does he know?” Nancy asks, and you have to stop yourself from telling her or shove off. After a moment of silence she seems to take that for an answer. “Y/n….. Eddie needs to know.”

“Why? So I can trap someone else?” You laugh bitterly. “That poor guy has already put up with enough of my shit. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go grab tables.”

You walk past her, not giving her a chance to argue as you completely avoid looking to their tables direction and move to your own section of the floor to greet a new table.

Pam, one of your favorite regulars, sees you and greets you with a smile. “You never work Friday nights!”

You always spent Friday nights with Eddie and the girls for movie night. But Eddie ran and you needed to make rent so tonight Max was watching them.

“Starting now I will be. You want your usual babe?”

“You know it!.” She giggles.

Steve tried saying bye before they left and you pretended you didn’t see him as you took orders, by the end of the night your feet were killing you and you all but limped inside to where Max was sitting at the table doing college homework with her headphones on.

Either she didn’t have them loud or she was on edge, your guess being a bit of both, she knows you're there and turns to you when you enter the kitchen.

“Thank you so much Max.” You mumble, pulling out the tip money you had set aside for her. “I’m sorry I ran late.”

“No need to pay.” She smiles, pushing the money away. “I like spending time with them.”

That tight feeling in your stomach is back, digging in as you stare at the redhead. She had been part of the reason you chose Hawkins, Billy had (in one of his rare good moments) described the way Max seemed to blend in and find a home here. He told you about the friends she made and how she managed to grow into a brave person and you wanted that for your own. So, assuming she was gone, you moved out here. Little did you know you find her soon enough along with an entire group of people connected to your ex.

You had always been told max was dead.

Max had always been told Billy was dead.

You didn’t know how she figured you out until Eddie told you about VECNA and Lucas told you about his girlfriends sight for things.

“I…. I saw the tickets.” She admits, blush traveling her cheeks as you move to make a cup of tea. The cupboard was still broken and you couldn’t bear to look at it.

“What tickets?”

“You left your folder out on the table. I saw that you were figuring out where to go.” Max admits and you can’t help but tense.

“I just….. I don’t want the girls being surrounded by…..”

“Billy?”

“Yes…..” you admit, still keeping your back to her as you boil water. “And Eddie. I just don’t want them knowing that he left them. They adore him too much.”

Coward. Coward. COWARD.

“I’m not a mom, but I can get your urge to protect them.” Max mumbles. “But what if they end up hating you for taking them away.”

“Then they have someone to blame. I’d rather them blame me than themselves. It is my fault anyways.” You admit, tears springing into your eyes. “Anyways. Take the money, go have fun.”

“Do you need me again this week? I saw that you work on New Year’s Eve.”

“No. You should be going out with your friends.”

“The boys have a start of the year campaign and El is taking a trip with Hopper. I’m free.” She laughs, trying to break the tension built up. “I’ll be here at 2.”

You can’t get the words thank you out because of how tight your throat is, so you just mouth them as she grabs the money and passes.

Steve could not stop laughing when he saw Eddie’s face the day he brought the car into the shop, leaning over on his knees to catch his breath as he wheezed out.

Dylan, the other mechanic, kept looking over to watch the scene unfold as Eddie tried to focus on his friends car.

“Harrington.”

“Dude I know- it’s just that your face is so purp-hahaha.” Another fit of laughter and Eddie is debating throwing his drill at him. He was in no shape to be dealing with him today.

Truth was Eddie had barely gotten a wink of sleep, he couldn’t manage to. Not used to not having you beside him, or not having the girls night light and soft lullabies. It had been 5 days since he saw you and he was beginning to lose his mind and resolve.

Almost every night he nearly talked himself into going back, then he remembered Motleys broken cries as they carted him off and the way she clung to your hip. The way she screamed for her dad as Eddie attacked him.

Monster monster monster.

“Gotta give it to Hargrove. He knows how to punch.”

“Yeah well, hope he had his fun.” Eddie snaps, leaning back to make sure he adjusted the part correctly.

“Did you get him back?”

“I got a few licks in.” Eddie mumbles, feeling guilty about the pride that washes over him as he remembers the way he beat Billy's face in. That was motleys dad. As much as he enjoyed hitting him he probably just scarred the Metalhead for life.

“Oh a few licks.” Steve scoffs, moving to take a seat on the stool at Eddie’s workstation. “I know how strong you are Munson. You got more than a few licks in.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because Motley was right there! She’s gonna hate me forever.” Eddie scoffs.

“Oh you mean more than they already do?” This pulls Eddie’s attention, he had been doing so good about not asking but he was dying to know. What had they said? Were they happy he’s gone? Mad that he fought Billy?

“What’d they say?”

“Not much of anything. Nancy knows something is up but your girl is keeping her lips sealed pretty well. I didn’t even know about your fight with jackass until I saw your face.”

“But you said they were mad.”

“Yeah man, you missed Christmas and just dipped. Leaves a bad impression.”

“Oh whatever. They are better off, I just ruin everything.”

“Oh. My. God.” Steve gasps, looking at Eddie like he’s figured everything out. “You’re self sabotaging!”

“What?!”

“Yeah! You think you’re the bad guy and so you’re trying to run away which is just making you even more of a bad guy which means my wife can stop threatening to shave your head.”

“I….. no man you don’t get it.”

“I do get it. I get it more than anyone else and let me be the first to tell you that you’re being a massive idiot.” He sighs, standing up. “Motley was waiting by that window to spot you that entire day.”

“S……she was?”

“Yeah Munson. She was.”

“I just….. I don’t want to be the one holding them back. I don’t want her to hate me.”

“Did you ever think that maybe Motley chose you? Like you chose Wayne?” Steve asks, watching Eddie deflate before his eyes before turning to the car. “I’m not paying by the way. Consider my advice enough.”

“Ass.”

Eddie spends the day of New Year’s Eve by the phone, fighting the urge to call.

What would he say? How would he explain?

No. Don’t call. This is for the better.

Yes. Call. Just pick the phone just for the chance to hear your voice.

God damn when did life get so complicated?

“What are you doing?” Wayne asks, watching eddie from his spot on the couch. “Quit wearing down my carpet.”

The carpet has been worn down since Eddie had moved in, but he chooses not to comment instead he sits by the phone, keeping his pinky on the handle of the plastic and glaring at it.

“You expecting a call?”

“No.” Eddie groans, rubbing his chest to try and relieve some of the pain built up. God he missed you guys. “Fuck. I’m gonna go smoke.”

He rushes to the back porch before Wayne could argue, hearing the old man laugh as he slams the door.

There is a dog out there when he exits, chewing on a stick found from the trees and sitting right by the fence. Upon looking a little closer he sees that the dog actually seems caught under the fence, like he was trying to sneak in.

“Jesus.” He murmurs, keeping the joint between his lips as he walks up, socked feet stepping on sticks and stones making him grunt out and try walking on his tippy toes.

He looks back with a smile, expecting a giggle from one of the girls at his weird walk before he realizes he’s alone. Shit.

The dog is panting patiently when Eddie comes up, and the man reaches a hand to let him sniff before moving to help. The dog chooses to kiss at his arm, tongue lapping at the skin as Eddie lifts the fence to try and help free him.

“Why you sneaking in pal?” He grunts, bending the fence. “You hungry?”

Within moments the dog is out, jumping up and kissing at his face for being rescued. “God. Motley would love you.”

“Shhhhh Ziggy.” Motley whispers to her baby sister, pulling her closer to the corner. The way daddy eddie set up her room was perfect.

He had put her bed in the center which left a small corner by her nightstand hidden from the door.

Over the past week she had looked for Daddy Eddie’s number, finding it sprawled under the label emergency numbers where he had written it under Wayne.

It was so weird that Daddy Eddie called his dad Uncle Wayne. Adults were so confusing.

Before you had left for your shift that night you made sure to wish Motley a happy new year and made her promise to behave. Little did you know that she had crossed her fingers behind her back.

The second you were gone she dashed to grab the closest phone, pulling it into her room and hiding it as Max struggled to cook nuggets for dinner.

Later that night when Auntie Max was reading on the couch Motley tiptoed to Ziggys room before sneaking her sister out of her crib and tip toeing back as Ziggy giggles happily.

“Sissy…” She giggles, pulling at Motleys cheeks happily. “Zigsy.”

“No your Ziggy silly. I’m motley.” She corrects as she shuffles with her sister in an awkward half hold half walk carry until they are in the corner. “Okay Ziggy. Sissy needs your help. You remember the plan?”

“Zigzy!”

“Oh boy…..”

The phone rings late, and Eddie sits up in the couch to lean his upper body to answer it, stressed and annoyed.

The stray dog lifts their head, huffing at being woken up and tilting to hear, one ear shooting up. “Easy Zeppelin.”

The dog barks, and Eddie likes to think he enjoyed the name as he picks the phone up. “Munson residence.”

God it felt weird saying that again.

“DADDY!” Motley whispers, sounding scared. Eddie is instantly up, standing on his feet and swiping at his face to wake up a little more.

“Motley? What’s wrong baby?”

“Someone’s trying to get in daddy.”

“Get in where? Where are you?” He’s already reaching for his keys, heart beating through his ears as his hands shake.

“We’re at home.” She whines.

“Where’s mommy?”

“At work!” Fuck. “Okay. Okay. Just hide. Just like daddy told you, remember? If anything happens, hide. You know where Ziggy is?”

“She’s with me.”

“Good girl. Get under your bed or in your closet. I’ll be right there.” He mumbles, calling out to Wayne to grab the phone before booking it out of the trailer.

He gives no time for the van to warm up, tearing out of the trailer park so quickly he’s sure he hit someone’s patio chair, mumbling under his breath a panicked “fuckfuckfuck”

The van is uneven as Eddie pulls in quickly, shifting gears to park so hard it makes a grinding sound before he is swinging the door open and tearing out. His feet hit the gravel before the grass as he rushes to the front door, using his shoulder to shove it open harshly.

A scream tears out in to the air at his entrance before a book is thrown at him which makes him yell out at whoever is in the house.

“EDDIE?!”

“MAXINE?!” He snaps, blinking at her. “What the fuck you doing?”

“What am I doing?! What are you doing?! You physco!”

“Motley said that someone was trying to break in!”

“I put Motley to bed an hour ago.” Max grunts, confusion lacing her features.

“You’re babysitting?”

“Obviously.”

“But her car is in the front.” Eddie felt like he was going crazy. “And since when does she work nights?!”

“Her car wouldn’t start so she took the bus today.” Max sighs, rolling her eyes. “And she needs extra cash. Probably for the plane tickets to get out of here.”

“Tickets out of….” Before Eddie can process her words any further there is a small pair of eyes looking around the corner drawing his attention.

Ziggy moves quickly, coming around the corner with a very excited giggle, walking to him as fast as her little feet would allow. “Da-Ed-ay!”

“Hey there baby girl.” He smiles, picking her up and swooping her into his arms to kiss all over her face. It was odd, just how much he missed this and it seemed like she had gotten so much bigger in the 4 days he missed.

“I swear to god I put her to bed. How did she get out of her crib?!” Max glares, right as the culprit behind it all comes rushing out to run at Eddie.

“I knew you’d come! I knew it daddy!” She giggles, running at him and throwing her arms around him tightly. “You came back!”

“Motley?” He starts, brain beginning to process what she was saying. “Did you…. Lie to get me here?”

“I did!” She smiles, peering up at him with big doe eyes. “I lied daddy! And now you’re here and you can take all my Barbie’s!”

“If you know lying is bad and you’ll get punished, why did you do it?” He asks, pulling her off before squatting to her level. “Metal head, that was very dangerous-“

A gust of air leaves him as her arms wrap around his neck tightly, tears springing from her eyes. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.”

“Motley I’m not mad, that was just dangerous and it scare-“

“No! About Billy. I’m sorry daddy.” His heart plummets, his brain racking to figure out what she was talking about. Why was she sorry?

“No. No I’m sorry.” He sighs, turning to see Max staring at them intently. “Hey max. Think you can take Ziggy for a moment?”

“Sure thing mop head.” The redhead scoops Ziggy up causing the young toddler to scream and kick, reaching chubby fingers out for Eddie. As much as he wanted to take her back he had to focus on Motley.

“Come sit.” He nods his head, leading her to the kitchen table sitting in the chair beside hers and angling it so they were facing. “Listen….. Daddy ha- Well I have been feeling really bad about Christmas Eve. I never meant to do that, or to attack your dad in front of you.”

“But-“

“I owe you a big apology for that Motley. And I don’t know what you’re feeling sorry about, pretty girl, but it’s not your fault and you have no reason to be sorry.” He murmurs, swiping the tears that fall from her cheek. “You have done nothing wrong.”

“I told Billy he couldn’t come for Christmas Daddy!” She blurts, her tears hit against his thumb as he keeps swiping her cheek. “I’m sorry!”

“No no no. You don’t be sorry.” He moves to pick her up, sitting her on his lap with her face pressed into his chest as he rubs his palm over her hair to try and soothe her. “Let’s just take a deep breath, okay? Then you can tell me what happened.”

There’s something coiling in his gut at her tears. Pain, anger, sadness. He truly could not tell, but he kept her close and rocked her back and forth to let her cry. When she finally calmed down enough to talk she started telling him.

“He was really mean daddy. And he kept t-telling me that y-you we’re gonna replace me-“ her body racks with sobs again. “He said you didn’t want me. A-and I was upset! But he w-was mean to you-“

“Easy.” He whispers, wiping her cheek once more. “You gotta breathe pretty girl.”

“He was m-mean. Said mean things about you daddy and mean things ab- I’m sorry! I-“ her sobbing gets worse and Eddie shushes her, choosing to rock her back and forth and keep her in his tight embrace. “And you w-were ma-you were madatme.”

“No no. I was never mad.” He sighs. “Daddy was never mad at you.”

“You were.”

“No, I was just scared. I…. Daddy didn’t want you hating him.” Eddie explains. “I just wanted to give you space. Having 2 dads is confusing. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“He hit you.”

“Did he ever hit you motley?” Eddie asks sternly, squeezing her a bit in comfort.

“He spanked me.” That feeling in his stomach settled on rage.

“That’s not fair. And you shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“Please don’t leave again.” As much as he wanted to promise her that he wouldn't, that wasn’t a promise he could make. You probably hated him, and he would have to talk this out with you first.

“Let’s get you to bed yeah? Daddy will tuck you in.”

“I want mama.”

“Well she’s at work.” He mumbles against her hair.

“Can we go get milkshakes?”

“I don’t know…..” it was almost 10. Then again it was New Year’s Eve and he didn’t want you taking the bus home so this would give him an excuse to go pick you up. “Only if they have chocolate.”

“You already know they have chocolate!” She giggles, and he can’t stop the way his heart seems to light up.

It was a busy night, and the smell of the jalapeno nachos all your tables were ordering was making you nauseated and angry. You wanted to throw up, maybe cry, maybe throw up then cry.

Apparently a town next to Hawkins lost power so a bunch of people were driving to this place to have a good new years which meant you were going to be stuck here forever. You found yourself stressing about the bus’ schedule as you dashed to run food.

This is what you had been doing when you spotted him. Running a tray of jalapeño nachos to your table, keeping it a safe distance from your nose as you thought about the fact that you might have to walk, and there he was.

Standing in the doorway, leather jacket and wide eyes, as you caught him looking for you. And he was holding Ziggy.

What the fuck Maxine?!

“Y/n get a move on!” Your manager calls and you snap out of it, moving to deliver the tray as the host seats Eddie.

You hear Motley call out “mommy!” And instantly knew that they would now be sat in your section. Did it make you a bad mother if you admitted you would rather die than face him tonight?

“Mama!” Your daughter calls, making you look over as she slides in, Eddie sitting right next to her and then you are forced to confront this. You should have learned about birth control. Better yet maybe you should have practiced the art of condoms more.

Thinking of all the ways you could have prevented this situation as you gaze at your daughters adorable smiling face. God she was beautiful….. still should have used a condom.

“What a surprise. I could have sworn I left you guys with Max.” You try to smile, avoiding looking at Eddie as Ziggy reaches for you. You grab her gently, bouncing her on your hip and she starts playing with your hair clip.

“I got daddy!” Motley admits proudly, pointing to Eddie which makes you look at him. Your heart thumping against your chest, adrenaline rushing through you as he stares at you with those god damn brown eyes.

“Munson.” You greet, turning back to Motley. “Girls, stay in the booth for a moment. Okay? I’m gonna talk to him outside.”

You walk off after that, leaving Eddie no choice but to follow as he jumps up and runs to catch up. The winter hair hits you, and you immediately wrap your arms around yourself to keep some of the warmth, the crappy waitress outfit doing nothing for you.

The second you hear your name fall from his lips you whirl, slapping him in the chest to push him back. “What the fuck is the matter with you munson?!”

“I…. Give me a moment to explain, please.”

“Explain?! EXPLAIN?!” A bitter laugh splits from your lips. “Look. I get it. My life was a bit too messy and fucked up, I’d run too. But you bringing the girls here is just making it worse. You’re going to get their hopes and it’s gonna crush them.”

“Too messy? Who said anything about it being too messy?”

“WHY ELSE WOULD YOU RUN?!” Your voice raises louder than you thought it would, but you don’t back down. “And I don’t appreciate you talking to my daughters without me. Now I gotta tell them-“

The words ‘my daughters’ sound wrong, and you can’t fight the disgust that coats you as you trail off, eyes widening as he stares back at you with a set jaw. “I just mean….. I get why you left okay? My life is chaos and you were really nice for staying and pretending like it was fine. But those girls…. They can’t know you left cause of that. I was hoping, as shitty as it sounds, that after a couple years they’d forget. Y’know?”

You are swiping at your cheeks as tears stream down your face, trying not to look at him. You catch him moving up, his hands outstretched, but you move backwards so he can’t grab you. “Eds. Y-you should just go. Okay? It’ll be fine.”

“No it won’t-“

“It will. I’ll be fine. I won’t be mad-“ then his arms are around you, pulling you in quickly as he shoves your head into his chest and you get to inhale his scent once more. Doing your best not to outright sob.

“I was the mess.” He blurts. “I was scared, okay? I was scared that Billy was gonna turn everyone against me, and I was scared that I ruined Motleys Christmas.”

You scoff, trying to pull away, not really believing the excuse. Before you can fully move he wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand moving to your jaw to drag your eyes up to his own. “I was scared. I was a coward.”

“But-“

“No buts. I didn’t leave cause I thought you were a mess, baby I think you’re perfect and your daughters are so fucking precious to me. I…. You really thought I was running cause I couldn’t handle it?”

“I just-“

“Y/n!” Your boss calls from the door, looking exasperated. “You gettin sick again? Need to go? Or you wanna get paid so you can afford maternity leave?”

You tense again under Eddie’s touch, stomach curling as you try and take a step back while Eddie’s brows knit in confusion before he turns to glare at your boss. “She’s sick.”

“Fine. Take her home. Just have to transfer tables.” The man snaps, turning to walk back in before Eddie is whirling on you.

“Am I crazy or did he just say maternity leave?”

“Eddie….” You sigh, feeling saliva build up as you panic. He watches you, taking a step back just as you lean forward to puke.

The car ride is silent. Not the serene kind of quiet and more so the anxiety inducing type.

You had no clue what to say to him at this point. Suddenly everything just seemed to….. silly. You’re reaction and his reaction. You should have just called. Why hadn’t you called?

No, he should have called.

You were being a decent person and giving him space and “mama?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?”

“Ya!” Ziggy yells, making Eddie chuckle under his breath as he leans to turn the heater in the car up. It had been forever since you had ridden in this van, since he deemed it unacceptable to drive the girls around in since it lacked seatbelts or a backseat. Even now everytime he braked he means a hand out to block the girls even with Ziggy in your lap.

“I don’t know…”

“Please! Please please.”

“We will talk about it when we get home.”

Only there was no talking about it, the second you got home with the girls Motley ran to throw away her to go milkshake cup then dashed to your bed quickly which turned into a screaming fit when you tried to tell her no.

The word condom just kept circling your mind as you finally just told her to lay down, she did so and Ziggy soon made her appearance to crawl onto the bed.

Eddie takes off his shoes. Moving to lay with the girls as you turn off one of the lights so the room was dark enough for them to fall asleep, and then you shuffle to the bathroom to shower before bed so you didn’t smell like grease and beer.

It wasn’t even 10 minutes before you heard the door open and shut softly, you turn already knowing he is heading for the shower and watch as the curtain opens lightly.

Normally he would jump right in like he belonged there which would make you laugh, tonight he had a questioning gaze, trying not to over step. You give him a small nod and then the curtain is pushed aside and he dives in, still in his shirt and jeans.

“Edward-“ you warn before his lips are on yours in a searing kiss. He keeps one hand on your jaw to keep your lips connected as his other wraps around your back to keep you close as the water runs over both of you getting his clothes soaked. By the time you pull back he’s already working his way down your neck with kisses as you earn him again “clothes.”

The hand holding your jaw moves to cover your mouth quickly as he peers at you, giving you a fake angry expression that has you laughing. “Do not wake our kids.” He whispers before stepping back to undress.

The jeans take a moment to shuck off since they were wet but the second he is free Eddie dives for you again, showing up just how much he missed you.

You sit with him on the floor of the kitchen by the fridge, using the light above the oven as your only source of light while you both snack, keeping cuddled together in nothing but your robes.

Nothing has been said yet, and you were just fine with that, exhausted and happy that he was there. But he has to ruin it, of course he does.

“I’m still sorry.” He murmurs, scraping the cream of one side of an Oreo using the empty side.

“I am too. I think we’re both incredibly stupid right now.”

“You’re telling me.” He blushes. “I just…. There was a time in my life when I hated Uncle Wayne. I had this image in my mind that he was trying to tear me away from my dad. Fuck I just wanted to be with my dad, I looked up to him whether he beat me or not and- the way I treated Wayne and the way I hated him….. my dad didn’t help, everytime I went back with him my mom and I just ended right back up at Wayne’s with more bruises than last time. And when she passed I was the only one there to inflict it. Wayne for him arrested and I swore my world was ending, swore I would never talk to Wayne again.”

“You thought that was what was going on with Motley? That she felt like you were tearing her and her dad apart?”

“Yes and no. I just was trying to prevent that from happening, I didn’t want her to have to experience that choice.” He whispers, picking at the robe. “I just wanted to protect her.”

“She wanted to protect you too.” You whisper back. “That’s love.”

“Billy told her that…. That I was gonna try and replace her.” He gulps, and you stop smiling instantly. “And now that you’re pregnant, and as happy as I am because I am so happy, I need to make sure she knows that I’m not trying to replace her.”

“We’ll make it work.” You mumble, laying your head on his shoulder. “We always do”

He hums out, laying his head on top of yours and sitting in the silence for a moment before you break it once more. “Where are your rings?”

“Haven’t worn them since I got arrested.” He answers, holding up his bare hands. “My fingers were too bruised and swollen at first, then I just couldn’t care to put them on.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go to bed..”

“Give me five more minutes.” He whispers, turning his head to kiss your own, keeping his nose pressed into your hair.

“Why?”

“I just…. I just want to be near you for a little longer.”

The sun peaks through the curtains, hitting Eddie right in the face which in return makes him groan out, moving the pillow around to try and block it. I’m his attempt to move Ziggy wiggles around, giving a displeased noise that her dad woke her up from sleeping before moving to lay right on his chest.

Motley does not move an inch, mouth wide open and eyes sealed shut, Eddie has to reach a hand out to poke her and make sure she’s not dead.

She wrinkles her nose, moving closer and shoving her face in your pillow, staying peacefully asleep.

You’re sitting at the edge of the bed, and he can only blink at you trying to straighten his eyesight as he watches you zip up your work boots. (For some reason I imagine go go boots with the 70s look. I don’t know guys. I….. I have no clue).

“You going to work?” He blurts, making you jump.

“Sorry, yeah. Max will be here soon to watch the girls. We agreed on it last night before I left.” You mumble, moving to grab your apron.

“I can watch em….” He whispers, staring at you. The way the sun from the window hits you makes you look angelic.

“Okay.” You smile, moving to kiss Motley and Ziggys heads before you move to walk away. Fully offended Eddie snatches your hand and draws you back, annoyed at the shit eating grin on your face.

“Baby,” he whines making you let out a small laugh and lean down to kiss his lips before rushing to leave.

He lays with the girls for a little longer making sure the blanket is covering all three of them before the day truly has to start and he forces himself to get up. Setting Ziggy down without waking her up was a difficult task but he managed, shuffling to the bathroom to change into todays clothes, thankful that he no longer has to wear all the shit clothes he left at Wayne’s when he originally moved out.

Upon exiting the bathroom he nearly trips over Motley, who had been sitting in front of the door. “What are you doing Metalhead?”

“You took forever…” she whines, wrapping herself around his calf which makes him smile. “I wanna stay with you.”

“Okay,” he answers, moving down to peel her off his leg and letting her climb up for a piggy back. “You’re gonna help me make breakfast then.”

“Waffles?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” He smirks, walking down the hall as the front door opens to reveal Max.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” She rushes out, face red from running. “I woke up a little late and-“

“It’s no problem. I’m here if you had other things to do.” Eddie offers. “Or you can stay and have some breakfast?”

“Sounds great. I’m kinda ignoring the rest of the group right now.” She explains, setting her bag down and following them into the kitchen. Eddie gets Max set up at the table, trying to set Motley with her but the girl wiggles and whines so he allows her to stay.

He listens to Max rant about the group as he moves around to make waffles, enjoying the easy feeling he gets being here. God why did he ever leave home?

“-And Lucas is just always set out to fight Erica. You’d think he had a crush on Dustin and wanted to date him. You know? I get it, your baby sister starts dating your closest friend. A little weird. But get over it!”

“I think Uncle Dustin and Auntie Erica are so cute!” Motley adds which makes Eddie chuckle a bit.

“Lucas is upset because he always thought they were in agreement that Erica was annoying.” He explains, bending down to set Motley down and bring the food to the table. “But it’s been months. Time to move on.”

“Exactly!” Max sighs right as Ziggy comes pounding in with an angry look.

“Alone….” She whines and Eddie smiles at her. “Aweee did you wake up alone? My poor little baby.” He coos, picking her up and bringing her close to kiss before setting her on his lap to help her eat. He already knew she would not be into the high chair based on the way even Motley was clinging to him.

Even now, as she used a spoon to shove waffles in her mouth, she kept a hand on his own arm to keep him close.

“I’m gonna work on mamas car today.” He explains. “I’ll be right outside. So maybe you girls can stay in here and keep Max company.”

“I wanna stay with you.” Motley whines, giving him puppy dog eyes.

“No it’s too cold. You stay in here. Okay?” And then Eddie gave her his puppy dog eyes. Oh yeah, can’t beat dads game.

She groans and looks at Max who smiles in return. “I’ve been practicing my barbie voices just for you.”

“Fine! But barbie is married to G.I. Joe! Ken is the villain. We’re not arguing about it again.”

“But isn’t it Barbie and Ken? Wouldn’t Joe be the villain?”

“Maxine.” Motley warns, slamming her tiny hand on the table.

“Fine. Got it.”

It didn’t last long.

Eddie had put on his mechanic suit, trying to keep warm as he took a look at what was going on with your car. 15 minutes in Motley came out wearing her snowsuit and smiling. “Look daddy! I can help!”

“I thought I said to stay inside-“ a laugh breaks out when she takes off the hood of the snow suit to reveal that she tied a bandana over her head like a hat. “That’s not how you tie it. Come here.”

He helps her tie it like his, telling her to sit a little closer to the grass as he keeps working, making sure the radio is on a station she would like as he does so.

By the time you get home she is making snow angels in the snow of the lawn as he curses under his breath.

“What’s going on?” You ask, making him jump and hit his head on the hood of your car. “Oh! I’m so sorr-“

“It’s good. I’m good.” He laughs, letting you fuss over him anyways. He takes his chance to kiss at you before you are pulling back.

“You are covered in car nastiness-“

“You mean grease and oil?” He laughs, keeping you trapped in his arms to rub his cheek on your shoulder. You yell out playfully, still trying to escape as he does so.

“Does this mean you guys are good?” Steve appears, dustin behind him. “Are you done being mad at me Y/n?”

“I was never mad at you!” Eddie keeps his arms around you as you turn to look at Steve, making sure Motley is good.

“Yes you were. I waved at you the other night and you completely ignored me.”

“I didn’t see you wave.” You reply and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“I called your name!”

“It was a busy restaurant, how am I supposed to hear everything.” You scoff, pulling from Eddie’s arms and flipping your hair. “Come on Motley. Let’s go inside.”

“Just admit you saw me wave!” Steve groans, following you to the door before Motley turns to shove him and close the door in his face. “Rude!”

“Steve, did you just get beat up by a kid?” Dustin laughs.

“It’s Eddie’s kid. Does that count?”

“My kids are great!”

Things took a moment to get back to normal, but that was to be expected.

Eddie found the folder of all your research on places to go, running his fingers over the math you sprawled across the pages to figure out how you would afford it, he promptly threw it in the trash bins outside.

Motley stayed glued to Eddie as much as she could, and in the mornings when he had to get up for work she made sure to wake him up and give him a kiss by the door making sure that he swore to come back before she would dash down the hall and lay with you.

Makeup Christmas happened, except it was only Wayne that was invited and instead of a whole feast you guys ordered a crap ton of Chinese food.

Wayne came over early, sneaking around the back and coming in through the back door which confused the girls to no end but they were excited to see their grandpa.

Ziggy also proved that she learned 2 more words by saying “shit grandpa!” All excited and reaching her hands up for him to grab her.

He howls with laughter, scooping her up and throwing her in the air as she screams in excitement.

Everyone sits around the tree opening gifts, Wayne on the couch with Ziggy on his lap helping her open the gifts. Eddie sat by the tree, passing them out with Motley right by him and you next to her.

He pulls out an envelope that has his name sprawled on it and looks at you.

“I had a plan for Christmas. But I kind of had to redo it. I planned on giving you the stick, but figured since you already know I’d get the ultrasound.” Yoh blush, watching his excitedly tear it open.

It’s quiet for a moment as everyone watches him admire the photo, smiling from ear to ear.

“Anything you notice?” You ask, waiting.

“What do you mean?” He asks, before Wayne snaps his fingers and grabs the photo gently.

“There’s two.” Wayne grunts before his eyes light up. “You’re having twins!”

“Obviously….” Eddie mumbles, “we already knew that?”

“What?”

“The stick? It had two blue lines? So that means we’re having twin boys? Right?” Eddie mumbles, staring at you like your crazy.

It’s quiet for a moment as you and Wayne process what he said before you burst into laughter, the girls following even though they had no clue what was going on.

“Not even close boy!” Wayne cackles as you have to wipe some of the tears from your eyes.

“Does that mean you’re pregnant mommy?” Motley asks, turning to look at you with wide eyes. Your heart stops, going back to what Eddie had told you.

“Yes. Mommy is pregnant .” You wait to see her reaction and Eddie finds himself reaching for the gift he had added two days ago. “Motty. I have something for you.”

He snatches the tiny box, holding it out to her. “It’s a really important gift though. Okay?”

She nods slowly, taking the box from him and opening it just as slow. Inside held a simple chain necklace, but when she pulled it out it revealed that he had hung his mothers ring on it, the one he normally wore on his right hand by itself. “I was told to give this ring to someone very special. It’s from my own mom.”

She gasps, turning to him. “You’re giving it to me?!”

“Well yeah! You’re my oldest kid. My firstborn.” He laughs, moving to help her put it on. Then he snatches another box and hands it to her. “This one is for both you and your sister.”

She reaches for it and opens it gently, pulling out a heavy chain that has a dog tag connected to it. “Another necklace?”

“Well…..” Wayne laughs, flipping it to reveal what the dog tag says.

“Who is Zeppeplin?”

“Zeppelin, baby.” You correct, already standing up.

“Who is Zeppelin?” She giggles, which makes Eddie laugh, picking her up by her armpits to make her stand as you go and open the back door.

The dog, a young little puppy at most, snaps his head to the noise and wags it’s tail excitedly upon seeing you.

“Come in!” You smile and he bolts from his spot tearing up sticks to get inside. Once he hits the threshold of the house he is everywhere. Sniffing the fridge to the chairs, jumping on his hind legs to clean up the high chair where Ziggy left her banana. After inhaling that he bolts to explore more, completely missing the living room as he bolts down the hall to sniff all the rooms.

Once Motley sees the flash of fur she screams in excitement, which draws the puppy back and they both just feed off each others excitement.

She’s jumping up and down, screaming in excitement and the dog starts howling to match her while his butt starts wiggling at how hard he is wagging his tail.

“I am so excited for Chinese later.” Wayne murmurs, coming to hug you as Eddie tries to calm both the noisemakers down. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course, you’re grandpa.” You smile, watching Ziggy from his arms just stare intently at the scene before her. “She can’t tell whether to be excited or scared.”

Wayne laughs, pointing to the dog and trying to help Ziggy see him.

Later that evening everyone sits around the table, Max with you all, as you pile Chinese food onto the plates. Motley keeps showing Max the necklace she got while Wayne keeps bragging to Eddie about his new Jean jacket.

Zeppelin chooses to sit by Ziggy, and it’s very clear that the dog has already figured out who will drop the most food. Ziggy giggles every time she drops a piece of broccoli and he catches it.

“Now we’re gonna have to watch her every time we give her veggies.” Eddie groans. “She’s got an accomplice!”

“Zeppy and Ziggy!” Motley cheers like their superheroes.

February rolls around soon enough, and your daughters biggest catastrophe had nothing to do with the restraining order on Billy, or her dads new bike (which she was terrified of). No. Motleys world was ending over valentines cards.

Eddie had helped her pick them out, little heart shaped cards that you could stick lollipops in, and had sat with her to write in them as you took Ziggy in for a haircut.

The only one that Motley had not written a card for was Troy, and now the morning of Valentine’s Day she was still panicking.

“I can’t write love cause then he will want to get married!” She explains and Eddie nods like it’s super serious. “And I can’t write like, because then he will know I have a crush on him!”

“Glad you can admit it.” He nods and she rolls her eyes. “Here’s an idea! Okay, you ready metal head?”

“Ready daddy!”

“You can write ‘from Motley’.” He laughs, watching her face go serious.

“That’s what I wrote on the others!”

“Exactly.” He watches as she thinks about it before nodding quickly and writing it down, tossing it in her valentines box and dashing to grab her backpack.

“She finally figure out Troys?” You ask, shuffling Ziggy in. “It’s been days.”

“She did. We decided on writing ‘from motley’.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you before leaning down to kiss your stomach then Ziggy.

“Stevie….” Ziggy giggles, running to the phone. It didn’t take long to figure out that she would be the one to run the phone bill up, even now she spent every morning learning to dial her uncle Steve’s number. She dialed Dustin once but deemed him “poopoo head.”

“Nuh uh. Come eat pretty girl.” Eddie calls, pointing to her chair. “Zeppelin is waiting.”

The dog, who just a month ago had been tiny enough to lay under her chair, now sat at full height beside it. Still a puppy, just bigger.

Ziggy runs, her little pigtails bouncing as Eddie picks her up by the overalls to sit her in the chair. Now trained Ziggy eats his dog food beside her rather than everything she drops, and if somehow someway some of her waffle drops in his bowl then it can’t really be considered his fault.

“Motley, hurry up baby.” You call. “We gotta go.”

“You good to pick Wayne up?” Eddie asks, moving to grab his lunch.

“Yes. I’ll drop Motley off at school and go and grab him.” Wayne had injured his hip, so today you’ll be taking him to the doctors to see what the plan was while Eddie went to work.

“Okay. And Ziggy is still good to-?”

“Ziggy and Zeppelin are going to Nancy’s, yes.” You smile. Nancy had just given birth to her third boy, and she liked having Ziggy over because she liked having another girl in the house.

“Okay. Tell me how it goes?” He asks, leaning to give you one more goodbye kiss as you nod before moving to say bye to Motley. “BYE BEAUTIFUL LADIES!”

The day had started off so well, you should have known it would only go downhill from there.

Wayne sat in the passenger seat of your car, irritated and ranting about shitty doctors. “I’m not doing it. You hear me? Just give me some Tylenol and I’ll be fine.”

“MOMMY!” Ziggy screams, from her spot on her car seat.

The doctor had told Wayne he needed hip surgery and could not work, which meant that Wayne was pissed and you were panicking about what to do. He couldn’t work which meant he wouldn’t be able to make rent and he would need some help to move around. Then when you got to Steve and Nancy’s she had told you that Ziggy had taken quite a stumble off the table and scratched her chin on the corner of the table.

It was a mess.

Both of them were not having a good day and Zeppelin was howling at their ranting and screaming and as much as you loved them you truly debated crashing the car.

Then you got home to yelling.

Eddie stood in the living room, still in his work attire with his hands on his hips and his eyes wide. “You’re in rare fucking form today, you know that?!”

The response to his question is met with a demonic scream from down the hall and you can only assume that Motley was having a bad time as well.

“I’m not getting a surgery, you hear me Edward?” Wayne snaps, limping to the couch.

“What the fuck are you on now?” He snaps back, looking at him annoyed as Ziggy rushes past crying. “What the fuck is going on?”

“It’s apparently a meltdown day.” You sigh, moving to kiss his cheek and go into the kitchen to make a snack for yourself.

Todays pregnancy craving was potato chips with lime juice and pickles, Eddie watches from the entrance of the kitchen with a smile as you settle at the table and enjoy your snack.

He moves and takes the seat next to you, following your lead on snacks.

“Why is Metalhead in ‘rare fucking form’ today?” You giggle, watching his face pinch in annoyance.

“I pick her up and she gets in the car, right? And then she just starts screaming at me! And I mean screaming. The entire ride home! And from what I gather Vinny didn’t give her a valentines card.” He explains. “God. She was yelling like she was possessed. Then I tried explaining that maybe it was lost and that made it worse.”

“Did she get one from Troy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think she cares either.” He sighs, rubbing his jaw.

“Okay, we let her ride out the fit in her room. We’ll call Steve later to see what happened.”

“Sounds great to me.” He smiles. “She scared me a little. Threatened to cut her hair and everything. Then threatened to cut MY hair.”

A small laugh tears from you as he steals the potato chip in your hand before looking to Wayne’s direction. “They recommend surgery?”

“It wasn’t a recommendation.” You sigh, grabbing his hand and tracing the tattoo. “I think we need to move the house around.”

“What?”

“If Wayne gets surgery he needs to be here. I’ll cut back shifts at the diner and help him out.” You start. “He won’t be able to use the stairs so maybe we can move our room downstairs which would give more room for the twins cribs in our room, but Ziggy has problems with the stairs and she likes coming in to sleep with us cause of the nightmares but-“

“Easy. Easy.” Eddie mumbles, turning his hand up quickly to snatch your hand and pull it to his lips. “We’ll figure it out.”

And so you did.

Eddie moved the house around, and turned the basement into a bedroom for you guys. Now with more room and your own bathroom down here he could set up the cribs.

Wayne took your old room, and though the man threw a fit the girls got excited that Grandpa Wayne would be living here now.

He got the surgery in the beginning of March, and Motley and Vinny were still fighting.

You spent your days helping Wayne, taking him to pt and helping him move around the house.

Motley and Vinny got put into separate classes which lead to a whole argument between Steve and Eddie about whose kid was the one to blame.

Life was a bit of a mess.

It all came to head at the children's father dance.

Eddie had dressed in a tux, making sure he looked good as you got Motley ready for the night. With Wayne napping on the couch with Ziggy asleep on his chest drooling (a daily nap these two took) Zeppelin follows at your feet, keeping close to you as you did Motley's hair.

“How do I look?” Eddie asks from the door of the bathroom. “I have a date tonight and I’m really nervous.”

“Daddy!” Motley giggles, rushing to him in her puffy little skirt, hugging him tightly.

“Alright you two. Let me get a picture.” You smile, rushing past to find where the camera had gone. By the time you got a picture of them Motley was rushing Eddie out, ready for the dance.

He struggles to find parking, and ends up finding one right next to Steve’s car, rolling his eyes when he sees Harrington fixing his jacket while Vinny reads in the car.

“Harrington.” He greets coldly, fixing his leather jacket and moving to open the door for his daughter.

“Munson.” Steve matches the tone, scoffing at Eddie’s jacket. “Little Munson.”

“Uncle Steve.” She huffs, fixing her hair.

“Really? A leather jacket Edward?”

“You look like you stepped off a Queen music video, Steven.” Eddie snaps, holding out his hand for Motley. Fighting or not they wait at the front of the car for Steve and Vinny. Walking into the dance together.

“I’m surprised that they even let you in here. Your child is a danger to society.” Steve snaps as they wait in line for tickets.

“Let’s talk about your kid giving everyone but my sweet Angel a valentines card. That’s barbaric.” Eddie defends, watching Motley wave to her friends.

“He didn’t want to. And I don’t need to tell him what to do.” Steve blushes, turning to look at something to avoid looking at Eddie.

“There it is again. You’re acting so fucking suspicious about that card, man.” Eddie points at him, silver rings glinting in the light. “Tell me what you know.”

“Tickets?” The poor woman asks, interrupting their stand off.

“Yes please. Four.”

“No two. I’ll get my tickets.”

“No I’ll get them”

“You’re not buying me ,Steven.”

“He’s buying me.” Motley smiles, snatching the money from Steve’s hands and setting them on the table before grabbing two tickets. “Let’s go get some pop, daddy.”

Eddie can do nothing but follow, letting the little lady lead the way.

After about an hour of Motley showing him everything and introducing him to all her friends she abandoned him to hang out with some of the girls in her class, making sure Eddie was okay where he sat at an empty table nursing a can of soda.

It felt like high school again, watching the way all the other dads surrounded Harrington as the pta moms that decorated huddled together and giggled in the corner. At least the kids were having fun.

Eddie wished you were here, you would be sitting with him.

“Jesus. Gary never shuts up.” Steve mumbles, snapping Eddie out of his train of thought. “I got you a slice of pizza.”

He sets the slice down, giving Eddie a weird smile as he scarfs down his own slice. But eddie wasn’t very hungry, instead he surveyed to check on motley and see her giggling with all her friends as they dance in a circle.

“Your kid has been sitting alone, you gonna help?” Eddie asks, looking to where Vinny sits reading a book.

“I tried earlier. He just said something about me embarrassing him more.” Steve sighs. “Then complained that I ruin everything.”

“What happened? I’ve never seen him alone at a party.”

“Have I not told you? Your daughter is the popular one. They made her move classes and he was left in their old class struggling to make friends.” Steve mumbles.

“Why don’t you get one of the many dads following you around to get their kids over there? It feels like I’m in highschool again, waiting for your cronies to shove me in the bathrooms and lock me in again.”

“How long were you in that bathroom, again? Two hours?”

“Three.” Eddie sighs. “I smoked and set off an alarm so the principal found me.”

“Sorry.”

“Wasnt one of your worst. I was fine.” Eddie shrugs. “Sorry about Vinny.”

“I have faith.” Steve sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I also cannot believe I’m at a daddy daughter dance.”

“It’s a father kid dance?”

“They didn’t want the boys feeling left out.” Steve explains.

“I see.” Eddie smiles, picking at the pizza.

“He wrote one. You know?”

“Sorry?”

“Vinny wrote one. He wrote a valentine for Motley and got her a big chocolate bar. But a girl made fun of him in the parking lot and he panicked.” Steve explains. “Ripped it up and left the chocolate on my car to melt on the seats.”

“I can clean that.”

“You can?!”

“Oh yeah. I got you Harrington.” Eddie laughs right as another dad comes to the table.

“Howdy gentleman.” He smiles, sitting down. Eddie has to blink to recognize, holy shit that’s Tommy. “Oooo. I’m sitting at the hellfire table. So scary…”

“Do you have a kid here…?” Steve asks, blinking slowly.

“Yeah.” He slurs, pointing to the young kid stuffing his face with marshmallows. “You guys want some whiskey?”

“Jesus. I smell it from here man.” Steve snaps, standing up.

“I’m driving. Hard pass.” Eddie laughs, standing with Steve.

“It’s so weird to me that you two are friends! That shit is like….. mind flowing!”

“Blowing.” Steve corrects and Eddie sighs. “Damn it Harrington. It was a trap.”

“Blowing is more for you guys, if you know what I mean.” Tommy laughs and Eddie shakes his head.

“How did you fall for that Harrington? You made that line.” Eddie grumbles, moving to find Motley. “Hey Metalhead?”

“Yeah daddy?” She asks, coming up with her cheeks bright red from all the dancing.

“Have you eaten?” He asks, offering her a bite of his pizza before looking back over to Vinny. “Think you can go help him out?”

“Yeah. I guess.” She sighs, kissing his cheek and rushing to find Vinny and bring him out to dance.

By the end of the night Eddie has danced to about every little pop song she wants, and by the time he is bringing her to the car it’s more of a carrying her situation as Steve tries to trip Vinny up.

“Have a good night Harringtons.” Eddie laughs.

“Sleep tight Munsons.”

“Shouldn't you be in bed?” Eddie asks, peering up at you over his book as you shuffle and pace around the room.

“Shut up.” You grunt, waving your hand at him. Your face is pinched up and Eddie finds himself sitting up and staring at you.

“What’s going on here?”

“Edward shut UP!” You snap, pacing back to the wall and holding your hands against it to try and breathe in. “Sorry. Sorry that was mean.”

“Are you in pain?” He mumbles, standing up and putting on his slippers.

It was your ninth month, and Eddie was anxious because he had never experienced the pregnancy part of it all before so every kick and movement made him worried.

“Eddie. Edward. Eds.” You grunt out, and right there something trickles down your leg.

“Did you just pee?”

“EDWARD!”

(Would you guys want me to keep going? I have more ideas {Especially Motley in high school} Feel free to message me if you want me to keep going or if you have any blurbs or requests for them in mind)

TAGLIST:: (Let me know if you want removed)

@mariamayhemrsmunson @bethanyzed @alyisdead

@caseyqdilla @zooboomanfu @avenjames-anderson @hazydespair

@bl1ssfulbaby @username199945 @costellation-hunter @vanessav03 @thehuntresswolf @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @jackiosstuff @mysticpeachobject @animechick555 @natie335 @localemofreak @venuslayla23-blog @cherrycolas-things @dontcrydaddy

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fan #strange imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanart #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things angst #stranger things smut

355 notes · View notes

fetusgooseandjuice · 11 months

Note

oh i didn’t know you hadn’t seen the venom movies! so sorry to put that on you! could you do a gwen stacy x fem!reader where r is bi but closeted and gwen helps her come out to her parents

I'll Wait For You

Pairing: Spider-Gwen x Fem!Reader

Summary: The request!

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: No need to apologize, anon, don’t worry about it! I hope I did Gwen some justice with this fic! 😊

You were startled awake by three knocks on your bedroom window. With squinted eyes, you sat up slightly and tapped your phone screen to see that it was only a little past five in the morning. Who on earth would even be at your house this early?

Three more knocks sounded on your window, this time louder and seemingly more impatient which prompted you to sit all the way up. You swung your legs over the edge of your bed and made your way over to the window.

When you pulled back the curtains you were surprised to see Gwen crouched down on the roof as she normally didn’t return to you until later in the evening.

Recently, your time together has been limited because Gwen had been so busy with her spider duties, but she somehow always made time to see you everyday even if it wasn’t for that long.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of you as you unlocked your window and opened it, “Hey, baby,” she said with a bright smile.

“Gwen? What’re you doing here? Last night you said you had another mission today.” you asked as she climbed into your room.

“Well, I convinced Miguel to pass the rest of my assignments off to someone else because I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Gwen stepped closer to wrap her arms around you while your heart fluttered at her words. You relaxed into her embrace and let your head fall to her shoulder while your arms went around her neck, inhaling her familiar scent.

"I've missed you too." you said.

As you stood there in a comfortable silence, her words sank in. It was starting make you feel guilty that Gwen set aside her hero work to be with you while your parent's don't even know about your relationship.

You're not even out to them yet. Of course your parents know Gwen as you had been friends for a while before you began dating, but that's all your parents think it is.

A friendship.

You couldn't help but wonder if she was getting tired of all the secrecy, but you were too worried about your parent's reaction to the confession to do anything about it.

Gwen must've noticed the change in your demeanor because she broke the silence, "What's going on in the pretty head of yours, hm?" she wondered as she pressed a kiss to your hairline.

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts before responding, "Are you not tired of waiting for me?" you asked.

She furrowed her eyebrows at the question, "What do you mean?"

You buried your face in the crook of her neck to avoid her gaze before adding on, “Does it not bother you that my parents don’t know about us? About me?”

She shook her head, “I don’t mind, Y/N. I mean of course I would love for your parents to know about us, but not until you’re ready for them to know. What brought this on?”

You just shrugged your shoulders, “You were ready to take a break from being spider-woman to be able to spend more time with me while I’m too scared to even tell my parents that I also like girls. I’m just worried that you’ll get sick of hiding.”

Gwen rubbed her hand along your back to reassure you. She hated seeing you so worked up. “You don’t have to worry about that, baby. As long as I get to be with you I’m okay with it, and when and only when you’re ready to tell them, I’ll be there with you. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll wait for you.” she spoke to you ever so softly.

You lifted your head from her neck to look at her.

“There are those beautiful eyes.” she grinned and you giggle.

“Are you sure?” you asked, referring to her assuring statement from just a moment ago.

Gwen gazed at you as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Without a doubt in my mind."

You stared into her eyes before leaning in to press your lips against hers. You don't know what you had done to deserve Gwen and her patience, but you were grateful for it nonetheless.

As you pulled away from the kiss, her comforting voice replayed in your mind.

When you're ready to tell them, I'll be there with you.

“I think I’m ready. I want to tell them.” you practically whispered.

Gwen slightly frowned in confusion at your words. She thought the whole reason for this conversation was because you were scared she’d get bored of having to sneak around since you weren’t out to your parents yet.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to feel pressured into saying something if—”

You quickly interrupted her, “No, no. I am ready. I want to tell them about us because I know that no matter their reaction I’ll have you, right?”

A small smile graced her lips, “You’ll always have me, but I want you to be one-hundred percent certain. Are you?”

“Without a doubt in my mind.” you said and she chuckled when she realized you repeated her words from earlier.

You pecked her lips again before bringing her into another hug. Your fingers lovingly grazed the baby hairs growing on the nape of her neck as you yawned, the sleep you were missing out on from being woken up so early now catching up to you.

Gwen laughed and slightly pulled back to look at your tired eyes, “Sleepy?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Yeah, because somebody decided to show up at my window at five in the morning like a creep and wake me up.”

You peeled yourself off her and ran a hand through your hair as you moved to close your curtains, effectively blocking out the sunlight from the rising sun.

“Well you do look very cute when you just wake up.”

“I look a mess.” you disagreed.

Gwen watched as you climbed back into your bed and pulled the covers over you, making yourself comfortable.

When you looked back her you raised your eyebrow, 'Well are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come cuddle me. You owe it to me anyway for waking me up this early."

She jokingly scoffed and kicked her shoes off before sliding under the covers next to you, "You're not worried about your parents walking in?" she asked as you situated yourself to curl up to her.

You shook your head, "No, they won't wake up for a few hours. If we decide to fall asleep I'll just set an alarm."

She agreed and wrapped her arms around you, securing you against her, "I love you, Y/N." she whispered, but it was loud enough for you to hear her.

"I love you too, Gwen.

~ ~ ~

This time you woke up to the repetitive chime of your alarm. You groaned and blindly reached over to tap your phone screen, eventually shutting off the alarm.

You rolled back over to look at your girlfriend who was somehow still asleep despite the sudden sound. "Gwen," you whispered.

She hummed, letting you know that she heard you but her eyes remained closed, "Baby," you spoke softly, "We've got to wake up now before my parents do."

Gwen just tightened her arm around you to bring you closer, "We can spare a few more minutes." she mumbled. You were about insist once more until you were interrupted by a loud grumbling of her stomach.

You giggled as she let her eyes flutter open, "Sounds to me like your stomach thinks otherwise." you joked.

Gwen just playfully glared at you. Reaching for your phone you checked the time, "Come on, we still have about an hour before they normally wake up. We can get something to eat real quick."

She groaned as you rolled out of bed and took her hand to pull her up with you before making your way out of your room and down the stairs. When you walked into the kitchen your heart had nearly jumped out of your chest at the sight of your parents sitting at the dining table.

They were sipping on cups of coffee with plates of breakfast sitting in front of them.

"Good morning, dear—” your mom greeted, but her train of thought was quickly lost when she saw the girl next to you, "Gwen? When did you get here? We didn't see you come in."

It wasn't an unusual thing to you parents for Gwen to be at your house often as she was your best friend, but they were confused as to why she was here this early in the morning.

"Oh, not long ago. I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep so I decided to come over. I came in through the window instead of the front door so I didn't wake anyone else up because it was so early." Gwen quickly came up with some justification for her being here.

Your parents seemed to have bought it because they just nodded their heads and returned to what they were doing before, "There's some extra food on the stove for you girls if you're hungry." your father spoke.

You thanked him and made your way further into the kitchen to get a plate of food with Gwen following behind. You looked at Gwen and flicked your eyes towards the dining table. She nodded, making a silent agreement to join your parents at the table.

They didn't seem to notice when you sat situated yourself in the seats across from them as they appeared to be in their own little worlds. You looked to Gwen once again and she gave you another little nod, placing a comforting hand on your thigh.

You cleared your throat, "Um. Mom, dad," you said and they looked up at you, the sudden attention slightly startling you, "I have something that I want to tell you."

Your parents shared a look before turning back to you, "Are you okay? What is it, honey?" your mother asked.

"I'm fine, it's just— I need to tell you something and I want you to promise me that nothing is gonna change. That you'll still see me the same way you do now and you'll still love me."

The way you were talking was worrying your parents and they looked at each other with concern in their eyes.

"Of course we'll still love you, sweetheart, but was is it? You're starting to scare us."

You glanced at Gwen and she squeezed your thigh. You didn't want to beat around the bush but you also didn't know how you were supposed to say it, so you just blurted it out.

"I like girls." you said.

Silence rang through the room so you continued, "I—I like girls, and guys. I like both, but-- but I wanted to tell you that I like girls too." you were stuttering a ton and your voice was shaking, but you couldn't help it. "And— and Gwen isn't just my friend. We're dating."

You couldn't quite read the expression on your parents face which made you even more anxious. You felt like you could almost cry. Gwen rubbed her hand up and down your thigh, letting you know that she was still here.

"Is that all?" your mom asked.

You gulped and nodded your head, becoming confused when your parents glanced at each other with amusement on their faces.

"Oh, honey, we've been known that." your mom chuckled.

Your eyes widened at her words, "You-- what?"

"Y/N, we're not clueless. We see the way you two look at each other, it's almost obvious, but we were waiting for you to come to us." you father jumped in.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn't exactly know what to say, "So, you're not mad?" you eventually wondered.

A smiled spread across your mothers face, "Of course not, Y/N. You're our daughter and we'll always love you. We've known Gwen for a while too and we adore her, so we're relieved you picked someone like her."

It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulders listening to your mom. You were surprised to say the least that they already knew, but you weren't complaining.

"Thank you." was all you managed to get out.

"You don't have to thank us, sweetie. We're your parents, it's what we're supposed to do. Now come here." You let your parents envelope you in a warm hug that made you feel so safe.

Their voices were slightly muffled from the embrace, but you could make out a few "we love you's", and "we'll always be here for you's". When they pulled back your father looked towards Gwen who sat with a big smile on her face.

"Now just because I've known you prior to you dating my daughter, Gwen, doesn't mean you get to escape 'the talk'" he joked and Gwen laughed along with him, "Just take care of my daughter, okay?"

Gwen smiled at you, "I promise I always will."

#spider gwen #spider gwen x fem reader #spider gwen x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #into the spider verse #spidergwen x reader #across the spiderverse #gwen stacy #gwen stacy x reader

525 notes · View notes

dawnisdreamlanding · 6 months

Text

CHAPTER 2

Ghost x Reader x Konig

Neighbor! and Roommate!au hehe

About me | Masterlist |

Author's note: Happy Hanukkah! I'd like to say THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT FOR THE FIRST PART AAAA!! I've been wanting to write fanfics for agess but I was always too nervous to hahahdsf so all the support means so much to me, especially for it being my first fic. But less talk, more story, I hope you enjoy part 2! <3

‘Why am I meeting so many tall, buff guys today? Well, not that I’m complaining,’ you chuckle inwardly. Konig’s so tall that when he greets you, he bends down slightly. Talk about being short. You mentally shake that thought away before smiling and telling him to follow you to your apartment.

Everything goes smoothly, and he ends up moving into your apartment the following week. It takes him a couple of days and a little head-banging on the door frame due to his height for him to get used to your shared apartment.

It’s been a month since then. You learn he’s from Austria, and he starts to call you ‘Maus’ which was self-explanatory. But you never really learned anything else other than that. So, to recap, both your neighbor and roommate are both silent and secretive. And they’re hot. You quickly shake that thought away. You shouldn’t be thinking about them like that!

Speaking of Simon, you haven’t seen him for a couple of days. You wonder what he’s doing. After a few extra moments of silence, you realized you’ve spaced out from doing your work. Your gaze lands on the long list of emails you’ll be needing to respond to by tonight, followed by the time on your computer on the bottom right of the screen. ‘7.43 pm’. Ugh, this looks like you’ll be staying back late in the office tonight.

It’s already been a few hours since the last of your coworkers said goodbye to you, and the office lights has been turned off except for your section of the office. The darkness surrounding the office was a little unsettling if you were being honest, but you pressed on with answering those emails. Your phone buzzing makes you jump in your seat and the bright screen in contrast to the surroundings makes you squint a little.

Oh, Konig’s calling. You pick up the call and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to hear someone’s voice after hours of overtime. The line’s a little staticky, but his voice comes through the phone. “Hello, Maus? Where are you?” Konig sounds worried. “Hey Konig!” You try to sound a little upbeat, but your exhaustion comes through nonetheless. “I’m working overtime tonight; I’ll be coming home late.”

Home. You don’t know when you started referring to your apartment as ‘home’, since you’ve always thought your apartment felt so soulless since you moved in. If you think hard about it, the emptiness of your apartment only ever seemed to disappear when Konig’s large frame started to fill in the empty space in your apartment. Despite not knowing much about Konig’s life, the two of you spend quality time together, bonding over shows on Netflix ranging from ‘The Good Place’ to ‘Emily In Paris’. Though you’d have to admit, the more mind-numbing the show is, the more entertaining it is when you hear all Konig’s quips and comments while the two of you watch it. God, you wish you were hanging out at home with Konig now.

“Maus?” Konig calls me once again, snapping me out of my train of thought. “H-huh? Sorry could you repeat that?” I reply. “It’s looks like its about to rain hard tonight, do you need me to bring you home?” his voice gets a little more staticky by the second, and you’re only able to get out a “it’s fine” before the power in the office shuts down.

“Oh hell no,” you say out loud to yourself. You watched enough horror game playthroughs to know that you’re not staying a second longer in office if you want to see another day. Your line gets cut off and you groan. If this isn’t the start of a horror movie.

You managed to exit the office without tripping in the darkness with being little on edge. Little droplets of rain start to fall to the ground, slowly painting the pavement a darker shade of grey with each drop. Your line comes back and you were seconds away from calling Konig to ask him to drive you back home but then a hulking figure leaving the nearby grocery store enters your field of vision.

You are quick to look at this guy because who the hell is he and why is he dressed in all black at night, looking like a robber? Oh my god is he a robber? Oh, it’s your neighbor, Simon. You should really stop bumping into him in such shady situations.

---

Simon ends up driving you back to your apartment complex. This time around, you try to talk to him the car ride there. In between the awkward silences, the two of you managed to bond over some shared bands playing on the radio and you learn that he’s from the military.

“’s not fair that they’re makin you work overtime like this.” Simon grumbles out. “Yeah well, what can I do? Besides, they pay me quite well.” You reply. It was true; the company you worked is quite taxing at times, but the benefits and pay holds you back from quitting.

“Well,” he inhales as he puts his car into park. “If you ever need a lift home, just let me know.” His offer puts a smile on your lips. For someone who you’ve gotten to really know in the span of a 20 minute car ride, he has a heart of gold. “Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

He has the manners to walk you back all the way to your apartment — you ignore the fact he lives literally right next to you — and makes sure you enter your apartment safely before unlocking his own door.

You sigh and drop your bag onto the floor. Your eyelids feel really dry and the constant urge to get some shut eye makes the tasks of getting ready for bed seem to stretch on for far too long. Part of you debates on sacrificing dinner so you can sleep a little earlier but that’s when you hear Konig call out for you in the kitchen.

“Eat.” He speaks. “I cooked dinner for the both of us, but I didn’t know you were staying in the office.” A slight pang of guilt shoots through you at the thought of Konig waiting alone at the dinner table for you to come home. “Thanks, Konig.” I smile at him. “I’m glad to be home.”

Konig tries to ignore the warmth that creeps up on him during moments like these. His eyes naturally drink in the sight of you sitting across the table, happily munching on the food he’s cooked you. Fuck, maybe being a househusband wouldn’t be so bad, especially if its for you. He quickly shakes off that thought. He kills. He likes to kill. What was he even thinking?

“Emily in Paris?” he suggests when you finish your dinner. You sigh and shake your head. “Sorry, too tired, Ko.” The nickname slips out of your mouth so easily that you don’t notice it, but he does. His body freezes up and his brain short circuits. He’s so focused on the nickname you used for him that he doesn’t even feel sadness when you rejected his suggestion. He hums in acknowledgement.

“Maybe this weekend?” You say and he nods, watching you turn to head into your room. He decides not to tell you he’s leaving for work that weekend. Leaving to kill people. “Next weekend.” He confirms. You smile tiredly at him and the warm yellow light illuminates your features. “Goodnight, Konig.” God, he wishes you could call him Ko again. “Goodnight, Maus.”

Taglist! @gojo-mochi

219 notes · View notes

chaotic-orphan · 2 months

Note

Hi, hope you’re having a nice day!! Love your writing :) Could you please continue heroic betrayal if you’re planning to?? Not to rush you or anything, it’s just got me slightly hooked oops! Thank you!! :)

HEROIC BETRAYAL (6)

Part one here

Continued from here

This part has had so many drafts, so so many, because I couldn’t get Supervillain right at all, and today? For some reason! It all just flowed! So you are in luck! It’s the paddy’s day weekend, struck gold! Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

They walked in a tense silence that made Hero squirm. The two of them were always chatting, or having banter back and forth. When they fell into a silence it was an easy one that never felt awkward or uncomfortable. Now, with Flynn marching Hero up a set of stairs, it felt as if they were two strangers. As if Flynn was actually a Villain.

He is, a voice sniped in the back of Hero’s mind. Flynn is a villain. The lie was his Hero façade.

Hero kept their guard up as they stepped through the door at the top of the stairs. Hero expected to be greeted with the view of a warehouse, or some top secret villain base. Maybe something from the movies, or an equal to the Hero tower HQ.

Instead, their gaze found a house. Hero frowned, wanting to turn their head and comment on it to Flynn but they didn’t. They refused. Flynn didn’t deserve their comments or thoughts on anything anymore.

“Through here,” said Flynn, pulling Hero to the right. Hero caught only a glance of the framed pictures hanging on the wall, of Flynn and Villain as children and a man and woman smiling in the picture above them. Hero swallowed.

Were they in Flynn’s childhood home this entire time?

It’s not what Hero expected at all. It was clean, almost pristinely so with wooden oak floors and a warm, homely feel to it. Clean and yet lived in.

Hero closed their lips, and just let Flynn guide them through another door into a dining room. Hero’s brows raised to the ceiling, looking at Flynn in question before they could help it.

Flynn curled his top lip inward, his tell for when he was embarrassed. “Supervillain insisted,” he said by way of explanation and brought Hero to the end of the table. It sat six people, two chairs on each end and two on both sides.

Flynn pulled out Hero’s chair and quirked his lips at them. “Can I trust you not to do something stupid?”

“You can always stop me if I do,” Hero replied sweetly, sugared smile not quite meeting their eyes.

Flynn’s smile was cold in return. “I can. Or Villain, whichever is quicker.”

Hero felt that cruel pang of betrayal bloom in their heart like a rose’s thorns wrapped thick around it. Hero didn’t reply to that, they just sat down on the chair lifting their handcuffed hands onto the wooden table and let Flynn push in their chair.

Flynn sat beside them, on their right. Hero could have laughed at the horribleness of it all. Flynn sat on Hero’s right because after endless sparring they had both realised it was Hero’s weaker hand. If Hero was going to do something stupid, going for their right hand side would be easier to subdue than their left.

How had they not seen the warning signs? How had they not realised that Flynn was working against them this entire time?

Hero trusted them. They thought if the world ever went to shit, or turned against them, Hero could turn to Flynn and still find a home in him.

Now all their trust was twisted against them mercilessly, and Flynn was a stranger who could smile at them with a bloodied face — and possibly broken nose — and threaten to have the person who broke it hurt them more.

Hero heard movement and voices behind the two doors in front of them, different than the door that Flynn and Hero entered the room through. There was a lively bustling of movement and then a man in his late thirties, early forties walked through the doors with a wide friendly smile holding two plates of something.

He had wavy brown hair, slightly overgrown around the edges, some strands tucked behind his ears Hero noticed. His eyes were sea-coloured, somewhere between green and blue, but shining with a happiness that Hero didn’t expect of Supervillain.

Then it hit Hero that they were staring at Supervillain. The Supervillain! Hero’s nemesis, their foe— the man who was always one step ahead of Hero. Hero glanced at Flynn, almost mutinously before Supervillain drew Hero’s attention back to them.

Supervillain set a plate of food in front of Hero with a big smile, then walked around Hero and placed one in front of Flynn. It was what looked like roast chicken and green beans and roast potatoes. Hero stared down at it, their mouth watering slightly and a gnawing yearning in their gut for food.

How long had they been here? Overnight at least because it was day time at the moment. Hero looked at Flynn. Flynn glanced at Hero then to Hero’s plate and dragged it over to him.

“Hey—”

“Relax, I’m just cutting up your chicken. You’re not getting a knife.”

Hero waited, watching Flynn cut up the food. Then they sat back against their chair, eyes going to the doors to see Supervillain was gone. Flynn pushed Hero’s plate back in front of them. Then Supervillain came through again followed closely by Villain, a shadow like fist holding something that was dropped in front of Hero. It smacked against the table lightly with a bounce and Hero realised it was a plastic fork.

Everyone else had proper utensils.

Hero waited until Supervillain and Villain sat down before speaking. “If you think I’m eating this, you’re dumber than I thought.”

Supervillain’s smile didn’t dim. “As you like it, Hero. Though, if I drugged you with the chicken or the vegetables I would have drugged us all.”

Hero didn’t move to grab the fork, no matter how much their stomach wanted them to. Flynn grabbed Hero’s plate, “we can swap if you like.”

Hero’s head snapped to him. “And how do I know this wasn’t all some planned ploy?”

“You don’t,” said Flynn honestly, meeting Hero’s gaze earnestly. Hero had to look away before they cried. Stupid fucking Flynn.

“If I may,” said Supervillain, his voice smooth and steady, drawing Hero’s gaze. “If I wanted to starve you, I wouldn’t have plated you up a meal. I would have handcuffed you to the chair and let you smell the food and watch us eat.”

Hero swallowed, gaze hardening into a glare as Supervillain tilted his head and shrugged lightly. “However, if you don’t want to eat I won’t force you.”

Hero sat back stubbornly, eyes not leaving Supervillain as he tucked into his divine smelling meal.

“Flynn said you wanted to talk to me.”

“I do,” Supervillain replied. “As soon as we have eaten. It’s bad for the stomach to mix work and pleasure.”

Hero blinked at him, then stared back at their plate. The steam was still rising from it, begging for Hero to eat it. Hero swallowed again, finally reaching for the fork that was discarded in front of their plate.

Nobody at the table made any remarks as Hero took their first bite of chicken. They didn’t even feel eyes on them as they ate, and with every bite the possibility of the food being drugged became less and less important as they filled the hole in their stomach.

All too soon their plate was empty and Hero set their fork back on the plate, sitting back in their seat, satisfied. Supervillain smiled at them from across the table.

“Well?”

Hero swallowed. “Really good.”

Supervillain’s smile beamed at them. “Good. Flynn, would you and Villain mind cleaning up?”

Flynn’s eyes went between Hero and Supervillain, and he opened his mouth to protest, but Supervillain looked at him. It stifled the words in his throat and he nodded and gathered his and Hero’s plate. “Sure.”

Villain did the same with their and Supervillain’s plate. “Thank you. We shouldn’t be long.”

Flynn cast one last look over his shoulder at Hero, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. Then the double doors shut on both of them and it was just Hero and Supervillain alone.

Hero’s chest got tighter at the realisation. How many times had they longed to get to sit down with Supervillain and pick his brain on his strategies and plans? How long had they wanted to know his motivations behind it all? What the bigger picture was…

Now, Hero wanted to be anywhere but here.

Supervillain leaned forward, elbows resting on the table hands folded in front of him. “Flynn tells me you’re a fan of mine.”

Hero scoffed and looked away. “I’d hardly call myself a fan.”

“Of course,” he replied pleasantly. “A hero would never admire a villain after all.”

“That’s in the job description.”

“Tell me, did you ever admire Flynn?”

Hero’s eyes snapped back to Supervillain. His smile was less pleasant now, more shrewd. Intelligent, inquisitive, intimidating— his eyes narrowed in curiosity, the corners of his lips still quirked into a smile.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? He was always a Villain.”

“Yes. However, that is not what I asked you.” Supervillain said lightly, not letting Hero off the hook. Hero swallowed in reply. “Did you ever admire Flynn?”

“Yes,” said Hero patiently. They couldn’t lose their cool now, they had to match Supervillain’s relaxed demeanour. “He was my partner. Obviously I admired him.”

Supervillain let out a breath. “Tut, tut, Hero. He’s a villain. How can a Hero ever admire a Villain?”

“If you want to get into some philosophical debate I’d rather Villain bash my nose against the bars of my cell again.”

Supervillain’s lips pursed. “If you like.”

The words ran like cold water down Hero’s spine. “However,” he continued, “I’d rather pick your brain before Villain rips it from your skull.”

Hero swallowed the lump that was rising in their throat. How can he be so nonchalant about telling Hero that he had no reservations about Villain killing them? It isn’t anything like Hero thought he would be.

“You wouldn’t let them,” said Hero licking their lips, making an effort not to make a face at the taste of salt and iron of dried blood dancing along their tastebuds.

Supervillain’s smile was pleasant. “No?”

“No,” Hero echoed then swallowed. “Even if you did let Villain hurt me or torture me, or whatever, you wouldn’t let them kill me. You’d rather draw it out slowly.”

Supervillain raised his hands, elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers, resting his chin on them as he stared at Hero. His sea green eyes looked stormy now, the twisting murky colour piercing through Hero’s soul. His smile was anything but friendly now.

Now, he looked like Supervillain, like Hero expected him to be. Confident, perspicacious, formidable. This was the opponent Hero had been playing alongside across the city for months now. Hero noticed their heart beating faster in their chest.

“And you say you’re not a fan,” Supervillain said, a perceptible knowing coating every smooth syllable.

“I’m not a fan of you hurting people. Killing people.”

“And yet it’s all you heroes ever seem to respond to.” Hero’s retort died in their throat. “If it takes violence to goad you out of your precious hero tower, then I will resort to violence.”

Goading? What goading? Hero’s brows furrowed down over their eyes, shadowing them slightly as their mind ran over Supervillain’s words.

“Hmm,” Supervillain hummed fondly. “Flynn said you have a look when you’re trying to solve a riddle, this must be it.”

“I don’t have a look,” Hero spat, ignoring the blush that coloured their cheeks.

“Of course you do, dear Hero. We all do. That’s why in poker you have to learn to mask your tells.”

“Are we playing poker, Supervillain?”

“No, hardly. Though I’d wager I could win your money as easy as it took me to tank that developmental property on seventh.”

Hero hope their glare was burning a hole through Supervillain’s skull until they realised they were playing right into his hands and dissolving. Hero licked their lips and leaned forward in their chair too, hands clasped on the table in front of them.

“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, was it? You wanted me to follow Villain. You wanted them to catch me,” Hero said. Them was much easier than saying Flynn out loud.

Supervillain smiled appraisingly. “Yes.”

“And bring me here to meet you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Supervillain’s eyes flashed, something glinting within them. “Because Hero, I’ve wanted to meet you as much as you’ve wanted to meet me.”

Hero held up their cuffed hands. “Couldn’t have done it more civilly?”

“Oh please,” Supervillain scoffed, resting his palms flat on the table and pushing his chair back. Hero’s heartbeat quickened as Supervillain stood up and started making his way slowly, predatorily slowly, towards Hero like a cat playing with a mouse. Hero wanted to not move, to not show him the effect he had on Hero, but their body didn’t get the message. The closer Supervillain came to Hero the more they shrunk back into the chair, hands braced on the table ready to spring to their feet and — and then what?

Supervillain stopped beside Hero’s chair, one hand on the back of it, the other hooking a finger around the small length of chain that kept Hero’s wrists locked together. He pulled it up, Hero’s arms going with it involuntarily until Supervillain held Hero’s arms up high over their head.

Hero grit their teeth as their shoulders strained from their sitting position.

“We both knew one of us would have to be in chains for us to be able to chat,” said Supervillain tilting his head. All friendliness had melted from his face leaving a cold grin and hungry eyes feasting off the sight of Hero at his table. “I just decided it wasn’t going to be me.”

Hero tugged their arms down suddenly but they may as well not have for the lot of good it did them. Supervillain leaned down, his face close to Hero’s as he grinned.

“You should have struck first, little Hero. Then maybe the roles would be reversed, but as of right now—” Supervillain’s eyes darkened. “I control the board.”

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill

105 notes · View notes

psychovigilantewrites · 4 months

Text

Sunshine's Shadow

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader Genre: Slow burn smut? Porn with plot? Like eventually??? Word Count: 7,600 Read on Ao3 Part 1 of 2. Summary: You had powers of darkness that made you feel unwanted your whole life. Jason Todd was the first person to convince you that your darkness was sunshine. After his death, you went to Dick for comfort and started a relationship with him. And then, Jason came back. A/N:

I'm practicing writing again to prepare myself for the last chapter of Red Who? I'm not too happy with how I wrote this, but I'm hoping to start improving again along the way as I write and learn all over again. Also, I am not familiar with Titans! I know Jason never really joined? I just winged it I'm so sorry. I also aged up Jason's death here. I think the timeline is a bit messy pls forgive me.

Jason knocked on your door.

“Come in,” he heard your soft, muffled voice.

You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. You had soft instrumental music playing in your room. The table lamp was switched on on your bedside table, but the room was still dark.

“We’re getting ready for a spooky movie tonight,” Jason said, closing the door behind him and approaching you. “Care to join us this time?”

Your eyes darted from your phone to his, and you pursed your lips in hesitation.

“No thank you, I’m fine here,” you said and brought your attention back to your phone.

Jason sighed loudly and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Why don’t you ever join us?” he asked, “We’re the Teen Titans. We’re a team. You should join us for more team stuff besides official missions.”

You simply stared at Jason. He sensed that you had more to say but was hesitating opening up. So he got up and sat next to you. “You can tell me.”

“The room is dark, isn’t it?” you asked.

The question surprised Jason. “I mean, I guess? So what?”

“That’s me, Jason. You know how my powers work. This- this curse. The shadow I emit makes everything dark and gloomy, even if it’s a sunny day outside. And no one likes someone who brings darkness in a room,” you avoided his eyes and started picking at a hangnail on your finger.

“That’s why you won’t hang out with us?” he couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you hated us or something.”

“What?” you looked at him incredulously, “How could I? I was afraid that you all hate me for being so depressing.”

“Has anyone told you that before?” Jason asked. He didn’t know much about where you came from, but he knew that you went to a lot of different schools and orphanages. An outsider, not unlike himself.

“The kids were always scared of me,” you confessed quietly, “They refused to play with me. That was fine, but then soon after they would bully me. Make fun of me, push me down, kick me. Reminded me again and again that I was a freak.”

For some reason, Jason always had the urge to protect you, even though you were slightly older than he was. Now that urge was stronger and he wanted to hurt anyone who hurt you, to shield you from all that negativity.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t know about those assholes, but whenever I see you, I never saw darkness.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Really!” he insisted, “I see a girl who likes to read, and who likes music. I see you smile whenever Roy and Jackson bicker. And when Wally does that thing where he starts vibrating when he eats? And on the field? The way you protect everyone, the way we can all trust that you have our backs.”

Jason held your eyes. “I don’t see any darkness. In fact, I see sunshine! Because whenever you’re around, it makes us all feel warm and safe.”

He saw the way you were trying hard to not let the tears brimming your eyes fall. “You’re not lying.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“Of course I’m not,” he confirmed. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“I guess not,” you sniffled, “I can tell when people lie. And you have never lied to me.”

“What do you mean you can tell when people lie?”

“I don’t know. It’s sort of always been a thing I could do,” you shrugged, “I don’t join in conversations, so I just observe people, and I can sort of tell what they’re thinking or when they’re lying.”

“Ah, I think I know a thing or two about that,” Jason smiled fondly.

“Thank you, Jason,” you expressed.

“No problem, Sunny,” he grinned, “I’ll call you that from now on. To remind you.”

Jason thought that he saw you blush in the dim light. “So what do you think? Wanna join us for spooky night? I mean, your shadow would even be helpful. It’ll create the spooky ambience we’re all looking for.”

“Is there popcorn?” you grinned.

***

You dumbass, you thought.

The rain had you soaked and shivering.

Jason Todd, you absolute asshole.

The smell of wet dirt was overpowering. Your team stood with you despite your shadow engulfing them in darkness. Roy had his hand on your shoulder.

The white petals stuck to the polished wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground. Your heart had already broke, and you had gone through the stages of breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably, not being able to sleep for a week after they told you the news. Right now, you felt nothing but emptiness.

The casket hit the ground with a dull thud, and you heard the wet footsteps of others leaving the grave. You looked up at the crowd. Dressed in black, you saw some familiar faces. Clark Kent and Diana Prince were with Bruce Wayne, standing in solidarity. A fiery red color caught your eyes, and you saw whom you knew as Starfire. Tall, confident, and radiating with a soft warm glow- everything that you wished you were. She was next to Dick Grayson, and your eyes made contact with blue ones, ones that reminded you of Jason.

Dick gave you a sad smile.

“I heard you’re not going to continue with the Titans anymore,” Dick broke the silence. The rain was still pouring, pounding on the glass window of the car. “Where do I drop you off?”

“East End, along Murphy Avenue,” you replied. You watched two droplets on the window fall down, racing against each other. “I have some boxes left in the Tower, but I don’t feel like seeing them today.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? You’re not even 18 yet.”

“I’m turning 18 in three months,” you rolled your eyes. “And I already got a job.”

“Oh? That was quick. What job?”

“Private investigator,” you responded, “Lot’s of scandals in Gotham. It’s quite easy to get a job if you’re half decent.”

“Pay well?”

“Well enough.”

Silence again. Dick made a turn.

No word was said until he stopped in front of the apartment complex. Unknown to you, Dick made a mental note to check the apartment out.

“Thanks, Dick.” Something stopped you from leaving the car. Something warm. Ah, it was Dick’s hand on yours.

You looked over and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I’m here for you. Anytime of the day or night. Text me, call me, whatever. You’re not alone.”

It was his expression. The pain and grief and sincerity in his eyes. A hint of desperation, even. By now, your talent for reading people had developed, and you could tell more than just basic emotions. Dick didn’t want you to leave him alone.

Your pulse quickened.

“Would you… Like to come in?” you asked.

Dick was surprised. His eyes darted downwards in a look of… guilt? And then- “No, it’s alright. You said you wanted some alone time. Go settle down first, then maybe you can give me a house tour sometime.”

Then he gave you the grin. Dick Grayson’s charming, heart-stopping grin.

You left the car.

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

You spent your birthday alone, ignoring the invitations from your ex team members. They all wished you happy birthday, and sent you voice notes of them singing. They said they wished you were there with them, and that they hoped you were well. You replied with a simple thank you.

The apartment you made yours was bare. The walls had no art, and the TV was unplugged. What was the point? Your darkness would have made the art on the walls difficult to see and it was not like you were planning to invite anyone over.

A couple of case files sat neatly on the dining room table, where you did your work. Your name had spread by word of mouth after your first client three months ago, and now you occasionally received texts from unknown numbers, asking for discretion and offering a few hundred dollars a day for a week of work.

Your phone buzzed. It wasn’t an unknown number this time.

Dick had sent you a text. Happy Birthday! Still waiting for that house tour.

You sent a quick thank you and ignored the rest of the message.

SIX MONTHS after the death of Jason Todd

You arrived late on purpose. “Sorry I’m late.”

You sat down in the booth seat opposite Dick and saw the way his eyes lit up when you announced your arrival.

“No worries,” he brushed it off. “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah,” you grabbed the dirty menu from the table. Anything to fill up the awkwardness you were expecting. “What do you usually have here?”

“Waffles with ice cream.”

“For dinner?”

“Why not?”

Dick Grayson gave you his Dick Grayson Grin.

You told the aging waitress your order- “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“So how have you been doing? You seem quite busy now, since this dinner was postponed to two months later,” he teased.

“My work isn’t exactly nine to five, five days a week,” you replied curtly. You had avoided this dinner on purpose.

“No, no, I get it. Mine is the same,” he said. “It’s good that you have been getting lots of clients lately. You seem to be high in demand now.”

“Yeah, I am, actually,” you smiled softly to yourself, “I didn’t expect for business to move this fast. I’m mostly investigating cheating spouses and party daughters now, though. Hoping to move on to the more serious stuff.”

“Careful,” Dick warned you, frowning slightly, “Try not to get involved with the politics here. It’s messy, and dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself, Dick,” you assured him.

He paused. “Yeah, I noticed,” his expression quickly changed, “You’ve been controlling your shadow.”

Indeed, you have been working on pulling in your shadow while you were out in public, making it seem as normal as possible so you don’t engulf rooms with darkness, especially with your current state of mind.

Soon after Jason died, you found out that your shadow had grown larger and larger, directly linked to your moods. Then you noticed that it shrank when you were concentrating on your cases, leaving the room bright. So you meditated and practiced, day and night, to keep your shadow and your emotions in check. However, it was tiring to constantly shrink it for long periods of time.

“Practice makes perfect,” you replied bitterly.

“Jason used to talk about you all the time, you know?” he suddenly brought up.

This came as a surprise for you.

“Really?” you cocked your head to the side, “What about?”

“Lots of stuff,” Dick elaborated, “But mainly about how to make you feel more welcomed. How to get you to open up. What stuff to talk to you about. He considered you his best-friend.”

You had considered Jason the same. He was the first person you had truly bonded with, but you never knew that Jason had communicated with Dick about you. True enough, he always tried his best to make sure you never felt left out. You felt your throat tightened and gulped.

Your waffles arrived, and Dick immediately dug in.

“He said that he called you something,” he continued in between bites, “Sunny, right? Said it was short for Sunshine.”

You hadn’t heard that in six months.

Dick looked up at you and panic took over his face. “Shit- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your eyes this time. You quickly wiped them away and stabbed the waffle with your fork.

“No- no, it’s fine,” you insisted, “I just hadn’t heard that name in a while. And I didn’t know he talked to you about me.”

Dick looked at you with concern. “Pretty sure he had a crush on you, with the way he was always talking about you.”

You were pretty sure, too. You could read people well after all.

“What made you choose this diner?” you asked, changing the subject. “We used to come here all the time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t stepped in here since that day,” he avoided saying Jason’s name now.

For the first time since you sat down, you actually studied him, beyond the basic emotions that you instinctively saw in everyone. The slight frown, the dark circles under his eyes, the short chewed up nails, the five o’ clock shadow that was rare for Dick Grayson.

He was grieving alone.

“Whenever Jason faced a problem when he was with us, out in the field, or anything, he would always ask himself- ‘What would Dick Grayson do?’” you told him.

His eyes softened, and you could see tears start to well up too.

“He really looked up to you,” you went on, wanting to give Dick the same comfort he gave you. “His older brother. Though, he kept it quiet. He didn’t want people to notice how much he cared. You know, the whole tough guy act.”

Dick chuckled at that. “But you noticed, of course.”

“Of course,” you smiled fondly at the memory. When asked if his injuries hurt, Jason would always reply with Only when I laugh.

But he accepted the cold compresses and paracetamol you gave him.

12 MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

The camera shutter clicked. You checked the quality of the photo on your digital SLR. Even from across the street and in the darkness of the night, your camera caught the couple entering the motel, hand-in-hand, perfectly. This would be sufficient evidence for your client. The classic case of Cheating Spouse was going to earn you a couple thousand dollars. Frankly, you had considered rejecting the case. You only went for high-profile scandals now. But the client was desperate, and offered a large sum of money for something so easy and simple. It was difficult to refuse.

You contemplated on whether you should go the extra mile to catch them in the act. Or maybe you should just stake out in your car and catch them coming out of the motel. You took pride in how detailed your reports always were, and that was how you managed to build your clientele.

You took a sip of the bad, black coffee, already gone cold.

Peering through the zoom lens, you angled the camera up to the rooms facing the street. The movement you caught, however, was not the lights of a room switching on. Instead, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow hanging about the fire-escape in the narrow alley next to the building. You zoomed in more, and saw a familiar blue and black spandex, white eyes, and a familiar grin.

“Fuck,” you swore to yourself. Of all the places to bump into him.

You had gotten close to him since that dinner. The both of you had been texting regularly, getting to know each other and sharing stories about Jason. It helped you with your grief, and you knew it helped him too. You found out that Dick Grayson was voluntarily very expressive with his emotions, unlike his late younger brother who always needed an extra nudge.

Despite all that, you had been trying your best to avoid Dick for the past few weeks and had been giving him the excuse that you were busy. The truth was, you were scared. You knew how close you were getting to him, and right now you were lonely. So lonely that you were afraid of doing something you would both regret.

Knock, knock, knock. The glass rapped three times.

You looked over at the passenger side and saw that grin. Sighing, you unlocked the door.

“What a nice surprise,” Dick greeted you as he shut the door. “Didn’t think I would see a beautiful lady when I left home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his usual flirting. “I’m on a job, Dick.”

“I can see that,” he shamelessly went through your case file that was sitting on the passenger seat before he entered. “I thought you don’t take these cases anymore?”

“The poor guy was desperate, and he offered a lot of money for a simple, menial task,” you explained. “I don’t get why he doesn’t ask someone cheaper. Literally anyone could do this.”

“But they can’t do it as well as you do,” Dick booped your nose with his gloved finger.

“What about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

“Tim needed help with some training. And patrol brings me everywhere, sweetheart,” he smirked.

You noticed that your body had subconsciously turned towards him. His eyes were not visible then, covered by the whites of his mask. He was slightly damp due to the drizzle outside.

You cleared your throat. “I’m going to stake out here until they come out. Note how long they were together.”

“That could be until the sun rises.”

“Yep.”

“Need company?��

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you needed to patrol, and help Tim.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed dramatically, “I’d much rather be in this steamy car with you, though.”

“Go and help your Robin, Dick,” you chuckled, unable to resist him. “Your mentee needs his mentor, Gotham needs its hero and you’re here cozying up with a PI.”

“How irresponsible of me,” he muttered. You hadn’t realized that both of you had moved closer.

You risked a quick glance to his slightly parted lips before tearing your eyes away. He was right, it had suddenly got steamy in the car.

“Text me when you’re back? It’s dangerous to be alone at this hour,” he said before stepping out and flying off in the most flamboyant, Dick Grayson way.

I can take care of myself.

You took deep breaths to calm down and slow your heartbeat.

Maybe you were scared that you were so lonely. But a part of you knew that starting something with Dick wouldn’t be too bad.

You were just scared of being judged by Dick’s dead, younger brother.

The next weekend, you found yourself on your balcony. It was 3 AM, and you were slightly tipsy from the cocktail you made yourself. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the wind, the cars, the occasional police siren. You made your decision.

Need you. you texted Dick, knowing he was out on patrol.

15 minutes. he replied.

Jason was dead. There was no one else who understood and accepted you almost as well as Dick did.

You waited out there in the cold for his arrival. When he did land straight on your balcony, his hair was a mess and he was panting slightly. You grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

It didn’t matter anymore because Jason was dead.

SIX MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD.

It was more difficult to control your shadow, but you tried your best. Moving in with Dick helped a bit more as compared to when you were alone, but you were constantly on edge.

He was alive, and what would he think of this? You and Dick? Would he see it as a betrayal?

Dick was having sleepless nights and was gone most of the time to help Bruce with Jason’s tantrum. Six months since Jason had appeared alive, and God knows how long before he crawled out of his grave, but he had not contacted you even once.

And you knew, you knew he was angry at you. That this whole villain arc had at least something to do with you. Even though it didn’t make sense, that you were never together, that you were nothing more than just best friends.

Somehow you felt that the rage and destruction was directed towards you.

For as long as you got together with Dick two years ago, and a whole year of playing cat and mouse with him ever since that kiss, you never had radio silence from him for this long. Two or three days was the maximum, and he would reassure you that everything was fine while you continued on with your PI business. A week long was unheard of.

Then, your phone buzzed.

I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Is he back? you asked.

He’s gonna take some time off. Need to go. See you soon.

And so you didn’t sleep until Dick came back home the next morning.

“He’s so… broken,” Dick whispered above your head as he hugged you tightly.

You frowned. You didn’t like that word used to describe Jason. A person couldn’t be broken. People weren’t objects. You knew what Dick meant, that Jason was traumatized- but it didn’t mean that he was broken. Broken meant that you needed to be fixed before someone accepted you, that you needed to be functional or useful.

Broken meant that there was a state where people were whole, and you knew too well that there’s no such thing as a whole person. People just existed in different states, and each state was just as important as the other.

Jason told you all of that when you opened up to him about your past. One day many years ago, you fucked up during a mission. Your shadow had hurt someone a little too badly.

“I don’t even know how it works, Jay,” you had cried, “Sometimes it has a mind of its own and it just reacts outside of my control.”

“You saved me in the end,” Jason tried comforting you, putting his arm around your shoulder as you sat on the carpet of the empty living room.

“But I could have hurt you too,” you argued, “It could have attacked your shadow and killed you, the same way I killed my parents.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that. Only the Justice League knew.

“It was an accident,” Jason insisted.

“I’m just a broken person,” you choked. “No one should be near me.”

That was when he took his arm away and held your shoulders in both his hands, forcing you to face him, to stare into his piercing, fierce gaze.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say that about yourself ever again, got it?” he scolded you, “You are not broken. You’re like- like water. Or air. You exist in different states of matter, and each state you’re in is no less broken than the rest. You’re not broken, okay? You’re Sunny, you’re sunshine. You’re just sunshine…”

NINE MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD

“Cheating spouse, undercover at Harvard, cheating spouse again…” you muttered to yourself as you browsed your cases in the living room, illuminated by a single warm light above your head. Dick would complain about the mess in the morning when he eats his cereal.

If he even comes back by tomorrow. you finished your own thought.

The blackmail material requests sounded interesting, but you always hesitated to accept the morally gray ones. You usually would go for missing or runaway children, the evidence of corruption, and the occasional journalist request for an inside scoop.

In fact, your eyes caught one such request. An anonymous journalist from the Gotham Gazelle. You received a text from a disposable two days ago, detailing a locker combination and an address. The contents of the locker were documents within a crisp and new light brown folder- a typical case file, along with a thousand dollars in cash and a promise of another two thousand after completion.

Journalists were not usually this cautious, but if they were investigating someone high profile, it was better to remain anonymous. Especially in Gotham.

You took a sip of your dark roast Arabica coffee, engrossed by what your anonymous client wanted you to get. It was already 11 PM.

Then, you heard the bell ring.

You frowned. Dick wouldn’t ring the bell to his own apartment.

Concentrating on pulling your shadow back, you walked barefoot to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your heartbeat quickened at who you saw standing on the other side of the door.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Deep breaths.

The door clicked when you unlocked it, and creaked when you pulled it open.

You couldn’t remember when you had stopped counting the amount of days since you saw those piercing blue eyes that were so similar, yet so different from Dicks’. Now they were even more different from what you remembered. They were like battleworn armor standing in an enclosed case.

“There’s my sunshine,” Jason smiled weakly at you.

There was no chance of stopping your tears from falling down your face, so you didn’t even try. You let them flow freely as you speechlessly embraced him and felt his warm arms snake around you. The warmth of an embrace you thought you were never going to feel ever again.

He grew much taller than you. He was 16 when he died, and you were just turning 18. You had stopped growing a year or two before that, but boys kept on growing, didn’t they? He was the same height as you were the last time you saw him, but now he was at least a couple of feet taller. Did that mean he was back long before he started going as Red Hood? What did he do for two and a half years? Who-

“Don’t mean to be rude, but can I come in? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” he said. Even his voice was much, much deeper.

You chuckled and nodded, taking a step away to let him in.

You closed the door behind Jason and watched as he walked in slowly, looking around at Dick’s apartment. You noticed he paused at the dining table where you were working, and then strided to the sofa in the living room before taking a seat. You followed suit and sat next to him, not yet trusting your voice to make a sound.

“So,” he began, “You and Grayson, huh?”

Looking so intently, taking him all in, you almost missed the question.

“You’re bigger than him,” you blurted, before widening your eyes in horror at what you were implying.

Jason raised a scarred eyebrow.

“I mean- you- your build,” you quickly explained, “Your frame. Shoulders. Length. Big.”

“Length?” he smirked.

“Height!” you almost yelled.

Jason leaned closer to you and frowned. “Am I making you nervous?”

You couldn’t bear his piercing eyes, so you looked down at your hands.

“I thought maybe you never wanted to see me again,” you confessed, “I thought maybe you were angry at me, and hated me.”

“I was,” he simply stated.

You looked at him in question.

“Angry at you. For a bit,” he sighed and leaned back against the couch, “But I was angry at everyone. You were no exception. I was just mad everyone had forgotten me. Especially those I cared about.”

“I never forgot you, Jason,” you vowed, “How could I ever?”

“Then why did you-” he cut himself off, “Nevermind. I just wanted to say that I’m not mad anymore. I get it. I was dead, and everyone moved on.”

He crossed his arms and again, you noticed how large his arms were. His face was more mature, jawline more defined and square, eyes now more deep set with extra dark circles underneath them. As if your body had a mind of its own, you reached out to his face and caressed the scar across his cheek.

Jason jumped slightly in surprise at the sudden contact, but then closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“You have more scars now,” you pointed out, “What happened?”

You felt his breath down your wrist.

“Another story for another day,” he smiled and opened his eyes. You took your hand away, blushing at how intimate that must have seemed to an onlooker. “Where’s Boy Wonder?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “You want something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Aw, come on, Sunny!” he got up and walked to the kitchen, “It’s a Welcome Back, Jason party. Where are the fun drinks?”

He started opening your cabinets.

“Wow, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” you shook your head and went to join him.

“Mi casa es su casa,” he sang, “At least, that’s what Grayson told me when he gave me the address. Aha!”

He found the cabinet of liquors. “Wow, I’m quite impressed by his collection.”

“That’s my collection,” you corrected him, “Dick couldn’t tell the difference between tequila and rum even if his life depended on it. I have a variety. What do you feel like?”

“You’re the bartender,” he teased, “Surprise me.”

You nodded and proceeded to make him a drink. Jason sat down at the dining table and nosily looked through your files. That was one thing he and Dick had in common, at least.

You set down a whisky sour for him and yourself before clearing your paperwork to the side, giving him the side eye as you snatched a folder from his hands.

Taking a seat across from him, the both of you dinked glasses together and took a sip.

“Strong,” he commented, “That’s good.”

You accepted the compliment silently.

“So, you don’t know where Grayson’s at?” he inquired.

“Nope,” you replied, “I know he has missions sometimes. Helps out here and there. He’s gone for two or three days before he comes back home with a new bruise or cut. I don’t ask for details unless he starts to tell me about it.”

Your chest made an involuntary squeeze that you tried to hide. There were times when you had asked Dick, and he lied to you. You had arguments over where he was, and who he was with before.

Jason studied your poker face intently, and for a second, you felt as though he was interrogating you.

He took another sip.

“How’s business going?” he changed the subject, “I heard you never went back to the team.”

“I couldn’t,” you answered simply.

“Why not?”

“Everything reminded me of you. It hurt too much.”

A deafening silence. A look of guilt. A looming darkness that grew.

“Business is great, actually,” you went on. “And I enjoy the slower-paced nature of the work.”

“Ugh, even stake outs?” he made a face, not commenting on how your shadow became slightly bigger.

“Stake outs can be nice sometimes,” you argued, “Crank down the window, put the radio on, snack on some fries. Sometimes I read, as well. I’m used to spending long hours by myself.”

“Sounds like you haven’t changed much,” he smiled endearingly at you.

“Not even physically?” you pouted, “I’ve been going to the gym.”

He laughed at that. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You look much more… Mature?”

“Are you saying I look old, Todd?” you huffed.

“So fucking old. A hag.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and laughed together, as if nothing ever changed. As if he never died, as if you never grieved for him and longed for him.

“I’m kidding,” he conceded, “You look good. Really good. Dick’s a lucky guy.”

You frowned at the last comment. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? Me and Dick?”

Another pause. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jason knew you well, so he knew how to answer you. His statement wasn’t a lie.

You heard the jingle of keys in the distance.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Jason whispered into his drink before taking a big gulp.

“Honey, I’m ho- oh. Jason, I didn’t expect to find you here,” Dick stood in the doorway, stunned.

“Welcome back, babe,” you walked over and greeted your boyfriend with a kiss. For the first time, Dick looked slightly uncomfortable with your display of affection.

“You guys have been hanging out without me!” Dick whined, his child-like persona immediately taking over.

That was how Dick was. You noticed it after a few times with him, how he would mask his emotions or awkwardness with his happy, warm personality. He was a people person, charming his way anywhere and everywhere regardless of any situation.

Yet, you could see through it all. The grief, the aching fatigue, and the countless battle scars.

“Was just leaving,” Jason announced curtly.

“Ngaw, don’t be like that,” Dick tried to persuade him, “Stay a little while. We can catch up.”

“There’s nothing to catch up on,” Jason insisted, “Bye.”

He glanced once at you, and then left without saying a word.

There was a stark difference between the way he was with you and the way he was with Dick. In the short future, you would come to realize that it wasn’t that he was different with everyone else. Jason treated everyone else with the cold, rough demeanor you witnessed- but never you. You were the only one who knew him as though that Jason never died.

You saw Dick’s shoulders slump in disappointment. “How long was he here for?”

“About an hour?” you answered nonchalantly, going back to your case files.

“He has never spoken to me for more than 15 minutes,” Dick informed you, “Even then he would give non-committal answers.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning to yourself. It took just a little while for the both of you to go back to how things used to be. “Maybe he’s more upset at you since you’re his brother.”

“Nah, don’t think that’s it,” Dick came up behind you and nuzzled his face in your neck. “You smell good. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you hummed, “How was… Your mission?”

“Tiring,” he complained, “You choose a case already?”

“Maybe,” you replied, “Who was there?”

You heard Dick gulp. “Donna. Kon. Wally.”

“And?”

“Kori.”

You felt your chest tighten again. “Okay. I’m tired too. I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“You just drank coffee,” he pointed out, “You’re going to sleep now?”

“Or just lie in bed,” you responded, “Seeing Jason was… emotional.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair.

“You coming?”

“I have to patrol,” he looked at you guiltily.

“But you just got back,” you argued.

“They can cover more ground when I’m around,” he explained. “Sorry. I’ll spend time with you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled at him and reached a hand to press on his chest. He was so committed, and that’s what you loved about him. He really, truly cared.

“Just stay safe,” you gave him a deep kiss, tasting the cola chapstick he stole from you months ago.

“I’ll see you in the morning, darling,” he breathed.

That night you lay awake in bed, staring at darkness. You let your shadow go at night, allowing it to take over the room. A buzz came from your phone all of a sudden. Another unknown number.

You tapped it open.

This is my number if you need me. J.

It had been a while since you smiled whenever you lay alone, unable to sleep.

And how did you get mine?

You didn’t actually care. You were just so happy to be texting your best friend again.

I’m just a genius, Sunny. You staying up late to work?

You contemplated your answer.

No. Just couldn’t sleep. What do you do now, anyway? Do you patrol with the rest?

Sometimes. I mostly do my own thing now.

What thing?

Another story for another time, sunshine.

I’m glad you’re back, Jay. Thank you for seeing me today. Can we hang out soon?

We can hang out whenever you want.

You were typing a reply, but was interrupted by another message from him.

I missed you lots.

I missed you too, Jason. We have to get caught up with all the slumber parties we missed.

Don’t think Grayson would be too happy with that though.

My best friend is back from the dead. He can suck it up.

I’ll see you soon then?

You contemplated again.

What are you doing tomorrow? I got an interesting case. Wanna tag along?

***

Jason’s heart broke when he found out that you were with Dick. It was a large reason why he was so angry, and why he became so destructive. But he tried to stay angry at you, tried to hate you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. The years without you were lonely, and he tried to fill up the emptiness with rage.

It took him so long after Bruce brought him back to his senses to finally see you because he was practicing. He knew he couldn’t bear to look at you and Dick while you were together, so he practiced controlling his emotions so he wouldn’t snap and scare you away.

But when you opened the door and he saw your face for the first time in years, everything dissipated. He didn’t need to control any anger because all he felt was longing. It didn’t matter if you were in love with Dick, all that mattered was that you were there next to him.

“Okay, so,” you began as you pulled the car to a stop in a street at Diamond District. “Rupert Thorne.”

“The guy who is running for mayor?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, browsing through the documents, “He allegedly backed Hill in the previous elections, but now he is running against Hill. My client wants me to find evidence of corruption and find out who his sponsors are.”

Jason saw the way your brows stitched together as you read through the file.

It was difficult to be in the same car as you. Even though he was in the passenger seat, he felt like it was a small closet, being suffocated by your demanding presence.

“Why doesn’t he sponsor himself? Isn’t he some sort of closeted crime lord too?” Jason asked.

“I guess that’s the mystery,” you hummed, “He must have been promised something, or he must have promised something- if he wins.”

You smelled like warm cinnamon and vanilla. All Jason wanted to do was to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. The pull he felt towards you was almost physical. He needed to stop himself from touching you, from claiming you.

“So what’s the first step?” he tried to focus on the case.

“He works in that building there,” you looked outside across the street to the tall mirrored tower. “COO of Trident Shipping Company. He’s doing quite well in popularity lately… Articles say he is modest and humble, charming, thoughtful, charitable… The list goes on. Must have a great PR team.”

Jason smiled to himself. You were starting to think out loud, a habit of yours he noticed one night during a strategy meeting with the team. So many years ago.

“Anyway, we want to see where he goes, who he meets, what he does-”

“Oh no,” Jason groaned, “You scammed me into a stakeout!”

He really didn’t mind if it meant spending long hours with you in your cozy car.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried to convince him, “We can catch up in the meantime! Plus, I do also need to bug his phone. Might need your help with that. I also have some metka, so maybe we can pollinate some lead suspects once we narrow them down and-”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Jason started chuckling in disbelief, “First of all- one step at a time, please. Let’s make a structured flowchart first before you start rambling off fifty-seven steps ahead. Second of all- metka, are you fucking with me right now? How did you get your hands on Soviet Cold War tech?”

Metka or spy dust- chemically known as nitrophenyl pentadienal or NPPD- was an old and outdated, yet still effective, Russian method of marking or tagging suspected CIA agents during the Cold War by the KGB. It was a discreet powder that stuck to everything. They would tag the agents at the airport, and then anything the agent touched would have traces of the dust. Including Russian assets- spies or informants working for the CIA. They would be able to identify the traitors.

“I’m a PI,” you said smugly, “I’m resourceful.”

Yes, you were. Jason beamed proudly at you. But he said, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how about the bug?”

“I have this-” you rummaged through your messenger bag and took out a small silver card the size of a hotel matchbox. It had the Bat sigil.

“So I assume you have Batman’s NFC card because you’re resourceful?” Jason teased. He knew the gadget well. The near field communication device allowed hijacking into another electronic device with NFC just by near contact. It could allow for cloning the device, or installing spyware.

You stuck your tongue at him childishly.

“I wonder what Batman would think of you stealing his gadgets for personal use,” Jason jested.

“Okay, I borrowed it from DIck, and it’s not like I’m using it for personal reasons. This is a highly professional operation,” you huffed, “Anyway, if you could let me finish telling you my plan. It says that Thorne is into French girls and he usually comes out for a smoke break around this time.”

“And?”

“I will be bumping into him. The NFC needs about 30 seconds of contact. I’ll slip the card in the pocket where he keeps his phone. But in case I can’t stick around to take it out, you will have to come walking behind me to pickpocket it from him.”

“Sounds good. What if he’s using his phone?”

“I’ll bump it out of his hand and apologize profusely,” you grinned. “Okay I need to get ready.”

You unbuttoned your weathered leather jacket to reveal a white top with a low neckline, giving Jason a good view of your cleavage.

“Uhhh,” he started awkwardly.

You ignored him and looked in the mirror, smearing lipstick on your lips and smacking them. Then, you ruffled your hair to give it more volume before turning to face him with a “How do I look?”

The red you chose for your lipstick matched your skin tone perfectly. And he never noticed you had a tiny cute mole on the top of your left breast. The way your hair was effortlessly messy made Jason imagine that was how you would look like in the mornings, or when he takes a handful of it while kissing you rough-

“G-great,” he complimented weakly.

If he hadn’t already died, then you were going to be the death of him.

“Oh shit, there he is,” you opened the car. “Quick, hang around a few feet behind me.”

Jason saw you strut as you approached Thorne. He was tall and handsome, and looked good for a man his age. Jason could tell that his suit was expensive. His coat was probably cashmere. He could see why Thorne was so popular. He definitely looked the part. He was talking on his phone, and he was now curious as to what you had in mind.

From down the block and in the crowd, Jason saw you pretend to talk on your phone in perfect French, rushing somewhere unknown. He didn’t notice the cup you were carrying before.

“Ah, putain! I am zo zorr’y, Monsieur!” you bumped hard into Thorne, spilling liquid all over his coat and yourself.

Thorne looked surprised, and then pocketed his phone in his coat. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, no, pleez. Let me ‘elp you,” you made a fuss. You took out a handkerchief from your bag and simultaneously shrugged off your jacket. Jason smirked to himself. No hot-blooded male would be able to resist the sight of you in a wet white low neckline t-shirt.

“Let me pay for your dry cleaning,” you worried, “Oh, putain it speeled down here too.”

You got on your knees and started dabbing the hem of his coat.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Thorne smiled and held your shoulder in a gesture to help you up.

“I am really zo zorr’y,” you looked up at him.

A flash of lust sparked Thornes’ eyes, and Jason knew you were batting your eyelashes at him from that angle. It made him want to punch Thorne square in the jaw.

“It’s really alright, madam,” he insisted, “It was my fault for standing in the middle of a busy pedestrian walkway.”

“I should ‘ave watched where I was walking,” you bit your lip and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well, let’s just both move on from this. Please don’t worry, I can get my assistants to get me another coat,” he rested his hand on your lower back as he walked you towards the street. “Here is my business card. Feel free to contact me if you need any help navigating the city. I would love to show you all the fine restaurants in Gotham.”

“Monsieur, you are too kind,” you pouted.

“I should thank you for bumping into me,” he winked, “It’s not everyday I get to see a beautiful lady.”

You pretended to blush.

“I have to go now,” he announced, “Please give me a call.”

And with that, he entered the building.

You walked towards Jason with the look of a kid who scored his first goal.

But then, facing him now, Jason swore under his breath. No wonder you managed to bewitch Thorne so easily.

Your shirt was practically see through, and everyone was turning their heads at you. He could see your black lacy bra, and how your tits bounced as you jogged towards him.

“Hells to the yes!” you celebrated, “That was more than thirty seconds. I got the card back and- what are you doing?”

Jason had grabbed your jacket and forcefully put it over your shoulders. “Let’s hurry back to the car.”

Yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

#jason todd #dc comics #batman #red hood #dick grayson #jason todd/reader #dick grayson/reader

144 notes · View notes