That was so lovely and now I'm depressed
Dreaming of You
Summary: Plagued by graphic dreams about the Munson boy, you decided to see if he can make them come true.
Word count: 10.3k
What to expect: Virgin!Eddie Munson. Smut/Lemon. (-18 kindly dni)
A/N: This was supposed to be something short, hot, and fun, but somehow turned into a therapy session. So this is for all my girlies who have suffered bad sex, been robbed of their O's, and made to feel like pleasing them was too much work. I’m very much a long fic kind of gal, so this is a bit of a different speed for me. Let me know if you enjoyed it!
Yes, that is a Selena song title.
It started with a dream where Eddie The Freak Munson made an appearance. You knew who he was. Everyone did. But you never paid him more than a glance or two until your unconscious mind conjured up a peculiar image of his face buried between your legs on top of O’Donell’s desk. At first you couldn’t quite place who it was until he withdrew from you. Even in sleep, you were lucid enough to be shocked that the freak was the one to turn your legs to jelly. He interrupted your thoughts by commanding you to roll on your belly and stick your ass in the air so he could fuck you full right in the middle of the empty math classroom.
After waking up with a sticky situation to remedy, you started to pay more attention to him. Eddie Munson was no longer a loud extra in the backdrop of your day to day life.
Now that he was on your radar, you could spot him anywhere. He towered over almost everyone. Was he always so tall? And kind of built in a scrappy sort of way? You saw him without his jacket once and had the sudden urge to just run your hands up his shirt and feel his lithe abdomen. Maybe even lightly scrape your nails down it just to see the red marks left behind.
Your ogling led to the discovery that he had really nice hands. Even if they were covered with an excessive amount of silver rings that directed the reflection of sunlight from the window into your eyes if you looked his way too long. You wondered if the cheap faux silver turned his thick fingers green, but then forgot to care once you started to wonder what else those fingers could do--if the stretch of them would feel just as good as you dreamt.
You also noticed that he stuck his tongue out a lot. It was like he knew what you dreamt about and was intentionally tormenting you. When he was antagonizing Jason in the cafeteria, you nearly fainted at the sight—tongue so long it nearly reached the bottom of his chin. It didn’t take long for you to imagine yourself sitting on his face, writhing on the wet, flat muscle and thinking about how his nose would probably bump in just the right spot. How you’d love to thread your fingers through the hair at the crown of his head and--
A curiosity soon turned into an obsession. Morning, noon, and night your thoughts were flooded with the boy in the leather jacket. You couldn’t escape him even in your dreams.
You had to have him.
Many hours of the school day were dedicated to coming up with a plan on how to get his attention, but it was more difficult than you hoped. He was always surrounded by people and looked as if he were in the middle of a tirade, which judging by his outburst in the cafeteria—he probably was. Waiting for him to be isolated wasn’t yielding any results, but the thought of going up to him when he was in a group of boys who looked less than welcoming wasn’t what you wanted either.
There was a possibility that Eddie would laugh at you. Turn you into a spectacle and belittle you for asking him out. He was loud, opinionated, boisterous, and quite abrasive if the wrong person approached him. You hoped he wouldn’t do that to you, but you didn’t know him well enough to say for sure.
But then he appeared in another dream that caused a yearning so severe that you decided to risk it all.
He was easy to find in the parking lot after school. As usual, he had some of his friends orbiting around him, though it only seemed to be a few of the younger ones that looked less intimidating than his normal posse. Taking a deep breath to gather your wits, you approached Eddie Munson.
Or at least tried to. The Super senior paid you no mind as you stood beside him. He continued to address the small ring in front of him, not noticing that they were staring at you with open mouths and wide eyes instead of listening to him.
“--You can beg all you like, Wheeler, but the answer is no. Why don’t you ask your buddy ol pal Harrington to get it--what are you all looking at?” Eddie turned to follow their gaze. His face shifted from mild annoyance to confusion as he stared at you.
Losing a bit of your nerve at the way his brown eyes bore into you, you faltered. “H-hey, Eddie.”
His brow furrowed in further uncertainty. “Hi?”
You couldn’t blame him for being uneasy at your sudden attempt at contact, having ignored him for the years you’d been in school together. But it made you second guess yourself all the same. Perhaps the Eddie in your dreams should be the one you focused on.
The thought of Dream Eddie brought on a searing heat that warned your neck and face. If there was even a chance that Eddie in the real world could have the same effect on you that Dream Eddie did, you had to go for it.
Regaining your confidence, you put on a sly smile. “Are you busy tonight?”
Eddie narrowed his eyes at you and tilted his head. “Why?”
Feigning innocence, you shrugged meekly. “Why don’t you invite me over and find out.”
After a few more beats of confusion, something seemed to click in Eddie’s brain as you visibly watched his suspicion turn to understanding. He nodded and snapped his fingers before pointing it at you like a gun. “Right. Forest Hills at nine o’clock?”
All the tension you were carrying in your shoulders melted away. Smiling brightly, you agreed.
——
Nine o’clock seemed to take forever. You spent the time at home pulling out all the stops to make sure that you were ready and presentable. Using the best smelling shampoo and body wash, taking the time to contort in the tub for optimal body hair removal—no matter how much you hated shaving—teeth and tongue scraped to gleam, perfumed body lotion, the only lacy set of bra and panties you owned, and just a small amount of makeup to keep everything smooth.
It had been a while since you had sex, giving up on high school boys completely. The few experiences you had were less than satisfactory, so you decided that getting yourself off was much less of a hassle than dealing with the idiots at school.
Like many of the girls at Hawkins high, you had given your virginity to Steve Harrington. He was sweet, gentle, and took his time opening you up with his fingers before pushing in to you. It was arguably the best night of your life. An orgasm that was provided by someone other than yourself, the giggling, nose kisses, and night full of whispers made you think you were right to choose Steve for your first time. However, as soon as the sun came up, he forgot all about you and moved on to his next conquest.
Things only went downhill from there.
You could feel bile rising in your throat from remembering the way Tommy H flopped around on top of you like he was having a seizure. With all his talk about how great he was in the sack, you were severely disappointed. You couldn’t wait for it to be over with so you could go home and take care of yourself properly. Thankfully, in less than three minutes your prayer was answered.
Then there was Billy Hargrove. He knew how to use his cock, but he was a selfish lover. He didn’t take the time to make sure you were satisfied, and once he was done, that was it. You were to shut up and leave. He made you cum on occasion, but it turned into a bizarre fight because you didn’t ask his permission to do so. You weren’t desperate enough to beg for anything, and for Billy to expect you to beg him to cum when you could achieve it without him…well. Let’s just say you didn’t go back when he brought it up again.
Steve was great but used you. Tommy was terrible and had bad breath. Billy was capable of satisfying you but chose not to. You hoped Eddie would be different.
In your dreams, his attitude varied. Sometimes it was hot and rough, other times it was slow and sensual, and sometimes it was just him worshiping you with words.
As much as you wanted that to be the truth, you were afraid that Eddie in the flesh would disappoint you. Just like the others.
But you tried not to think about it. Instead, you focused on recreating the images your imagination conjured up both in sleep and waking hours. Recalling the way his lips felt on yours. The sting of your scalp when he pulled your hair. The sweet words he’d coo after he made you see stars.
The permanent ache in your belly only intensified the longer you dwelled on your past visions. Before you were even at his place your body was scorching from the inside out, cunt drenched and throbbing, and breathing erratic.
Arousal quickly faded into nervousness as you parked your car next to the familiar van, but you tried to bully it back by taking a few calming breaths before going for gold and knocking on the door.
All that could be heard from the other side was various banging and swearing before the door launched open to reveal Eddie looking quite frazzled.
He held up a few crushed beer cans in his hand and gave a weak smile. “Sorry. Was trying to clean up a bit. Maid took the week off.”
You gave him a small smile. “That’s okay. Can I come in?”
Eddie moved out of the way and bowed low at the waist. “Of course. Castle Munson is yours.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that display as you walked past him. You’d seen him bow his head to girls at school who either ignored his existence completely or scowled at him, but to be on the receiving end of his chivalry was cute.
His castle was anything but. The trailer was small, very cluttered, and was certainly the home to chain smokers as every countertop had a full ashtray on it. Still, it was oddly comforting with the soft glow of the living room lamp, the rows and rows of mugs lining the walls and the collection of baseball caps to compliment them.
You followed him into the tiny kitchen area. “Do you live here alone?” you asked curiously, taking a closer look at the Garfield mug on the counter.
“Uh--no,” Eddie answered, stuffing his hand in the full trash can to stop the pile from overflowing. “My uncle lives here too but he works overnight at the plant.”
Your heart soared at the idea of having the place to yourself for the evening. “So no one will be home tonight?”
“Nope,” he answered, turning his attention to the fridge. “Can I get you a water? Or beer? I think I have some Kool-aid in here if you want that.”
You shook your head, forgetting he couldn’t see you with his face in the depths of the fridge. Perhaps beer would be a good idea to calm your nerves a bit, but then again, you didn’t want to have horrid breath for this.
“No. I’m okay, thanks.”
“Right,” Eddie mumbled. He withdrew from the fridge and clapped his hands together. “So. What can I get you? I’m out of shrooms, but I have a couple of tabs and some weed.”
“Huh?” you questioned, staring at him with confusion.
Eddie looked equally unsure. “That’s what you’re here for, right? Weed?”
You clenched your eyes shut when you realized what he meant. He didn’t exactly pick up what you were putting down earlier.
Maybe it would be better to accept a beer and a joint. Perhaps get to know him better before pouncing on him like a lioness in heat. But the yearning in the core of your belly wasn’t willing to wait.
“Um, no,” you answered awkwardly. You let out a sharp exhale before looking at him again. “I’m here for you.”
He raised his brows. “Me?”
Was there a way to convey this without sounding like a whore? How were you supposed to tell him you wanted to fuck when clearly the thought never crossed his mind?
You supposed you could show him. You took a few steps to close the distance between you, inhaling the scent of him. True, the smell of cigarettes and weed clung to him, but so did the aroma of Old Spice, cologne, and something you could only describe as man. And boy was it intoxicating in the most alluring way to breathe in.
You placed your hands on his leather clad biceps--which were almost heaven to finally touch after weeks of staring--and stood atop the tips of your toes to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been thinking about you.”
Grabbing you by the elbows, he gently pushed you back far enough to be able to look at you.
“Hey, if you don’t have any money, it’s fine. I can just smoke you out,” he frowned. “You don’t have to do any of that.”
No wonder it took him three tries to pass senior year. The guy was really dense. What was it going to take for him to realize you were here to get your back blown out?
Huffing with mild irritation, you leaned away from him and seized the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it carelessly elsewhere.
Eddie’s brown eyes nearly bulged out of his skull as they stared at your lace covered tits. If you weren’t so turned on, you would have laughed at the way his mouth hung open--face frozen in shock. It didn’t even look like he was blinking. Or even breathing for that matter.
“I told you. I came here for you.”
Taking his stunned silence as an opportunity, you crowded his space once again and finally got to live out one of your fantasies: pushing your hands beneath his shirt and feeling the muscles of his abdomen. There were some there, but there was also a little bit of pudge too right at his navel. Lightly gliding your hands upward towards his chest, you leaned to place a small kiss on the side of his throat.
“I’ve had dreams about you,” you said in the best seductive tone you could muster, placing another kiss just a few inches higher on his neck.
His Adam's apple bobbed beneath your lips. “Hua-uhh,” Eddie stammered. “What kind of dreams?”
You smiled to yourself at the crack in his voice. “Oh, I think you know what kind.” You pressed your body flush against his, relishing in the warmth of him and internally cheering at the stiff bulge pressed against your stomach.
Eddie chuckled nervously, his voice much higher than before. “Y-yeah I think I have an idea. Wha--” he cleared his throat in an effort to return his tone to a normal octave. “What happens in them?”
You slid your hands towards his belt loops, hooking your fingers in them and steering him the short way to the couch as you answered. “Which one do you wanna know about? There’s been quite a few. I could tell you about them or—“ you gently pushed off Eddie’s leather jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall before nudging him down onto the lumpy couch. “—I could show you.”
All the air in Eddie’s lungs came out in a huff when he collapsed onto the sofa. Wide eyed he asked, “Is this—is this really happening?”
Taking your time to settle on your knees between his legs, you outlined the tattoo on his forearm, having never noticed it there before. Eddie Munson just became ten times hotter.
“Really happening,” you smirked.
Eddie was nearly panting through his wide open mouth as he watched you undo his belt, button and zipper. The quiet gasps of “h-oh shit” that escaped him only made your confidence grow.
“Cute,” you teased, snapping the elastic waistband of his navy bullfrog boxers.
He may have said something about how they were his lucky pair, but you weren’t listening. The anatomy beneath them was what you were here for, and you couldn’t wait to see it. Wasting not another second, you instructed Eddie to lift his hips and yanked the heavy black denim and boxers to his knees.
Cock slapping against his belly, sticky drops dribbled from the head. Your mouth watered at the sight of it twitching against him in anticipation. It was all you could have hoped for. Thick, long, curved just a little to the right, and with a glistening pink tip—Eddie’s cock was gorgeous.
“Good for you, Munson,” you praised mischievously. It took no time wrapping your hand around the length of him. Heavy, silky smooth, and hot, you gave into the urge and licked a pressured stripe on the underside of his shaft, tracing the protruding vein.
The strangled chortle that emitted from the back of Eddie’s throat only fueled your desire. You could feel your own arousal pooling, more than likely already seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear with how worked up you made yourself earlier. Lifting yourself higher on your knees, you licked the slick slit and relished the salty taste of him before enveloping the entirety of the head with your lips.
Maybe it was weird to be so turned on when giving a blowjob—other girls talked about it like it was a chore and you hated having to do it to Billy. But feeling Eddie’s hairy thighs tremble under your palms, seeing his chest heave as breathy whimpers escaped him, watching his mouth hang open in disbelief with his cheeks sporting a ruddy complexion was enough to make your cunt throb.
Hollowing your cheeks, you lowered your mouth as far as you could without gagging, and pulled back up again to swirl your tongue around the mushroom tip with your fist following close behind.
Eddie huffed and puffed, trying to stutter out half syllables as he writhed in your grasp. Unsure of what to do with his hands, his fingers flexed against the cushions beneath them. He struggled to keep his eyes open—dark lashes fluttering against his pink cheeks with every stroke.
God he was beautiful like this. Why you never thought of him before was a true mystery. Lips pink and plump, strong nose, and eyelashes so long you’d kill for them. Now that you’d seen him blissed out from something you were doing for him—to him—you couldn’t imagine ever going back to ignoring him.
Drunk from the power you clearly had over him and determined to make a lasting impression so this could happen again, you bobbed your head lower and lower, relishing in the smooth glide of his cock against your tongue, opening the back of your throat to accommodate him until you were close enough to bury your nose against the thick dark curls at the base of him.
But Eddie was finally able to gasp out a single word. “S-Stop!”
All the confidence drained from you when you peered at him through your lashes. Eddie panted heavily with his brown eyes wide and glossy, looking as if her were about to cry.
Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you frowned with his dick twitching against your chin. “Is it not good—?”
He quickly shook his head. “Too good. So good I’m gonna bust in two seconds if you don’t slow down,” he answered breathlessly. “Or if you keep looking at me like that. Jesus Christ.”
Your frown deepened at his words. Too busy worrying about your pleasure from devouring him, you didn’t give much thought about what he wanted from this, thinking getting blown was reward enough in itself.
Embarrassed by your selfishness, you decided to make it right.
Ignoring the popping in your knees, you lifted yourself from the carpet to straddle Eddie’s lap, taking extra care to press your clothed core right against his aching cock.
Up close like this you were able to admire his features. Trace his bottom lip with your thumb, the curve of his scratchy jaw. Memorize the pattern of light freckles dusting the bridge of his nose. You outlined that too with the pass of your fingertips, along with the ridge of his deep set Cupid’s bow.
“Sorry,” you said softly, gently swiping the curtain of black bangs to expose his pale forehead.
Eddie blinked. “Huh?”
“For being greedy,” you answered simply.
He chuckled weakly. The corner of his lip ticked in a sideways grin, allowing for a dimple to dent his cheek as you caressed it. “Promise it’s alright, Sweetheart. Just want it to last longer than ten seconds.”
You slowly rocked your hips, letting the sopping cotton of your underwear drag against the hard length pressing so deliciously against you. A sigh rushed out of his parted lips when you moved his hands from the couch cushions and slid them up your body until they rested against the curve of your lace covered breasts.
The audible gulp emitting from his throat made you giggle, but it quickly faded into silence when he kept his hands still. No kneading, squeezing, or massaging. You ceased the roll of your hips.
“You can touch me if you want,” you offered.
Eddie stared at his unmoving hands and licked his lips before his eyes flickered up to yours. “Can I kiss you?”
It was your turn to gape at him. It hadn’t occurred to you that you hadn’t even kissed him during your lust fueled frenzy. Granting permission with a wordless nod of your head, letting him initiate just as he asked.
From your observations of Eddie over the last few weeks, timid is not the word you would use to describe him. However, as his lips gently pressed against yours, that’s all you could think of.
The kiss wasn’t bad, it was just…slow. Gentle. Timid. He made no effort to deepen it--deciding that a few chicken pecks were satisfactory. Eddie also kept his hands frozen on your chest, much to your displeasure.
Trying to relay the urgency of your desire, you took over. Crashing your lips against his, you tried to set the pace. But Eddie couldn’t keep up. He was clumsy, had a little too much spit, and nearly jumped out of his skin when you slid the tip of your tongue against his.
Frustrated, you pulled away from him.
“Are you okay?” you snapped.
Eddie nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you okay?”
You didn’t want to crush his spirit and say it was disappointing, but you also wanted more. “You’re just--you’re acting like you’ve never done this before.”
His cheeks deepened into a harsh maroon. “I haven’t.”
Your hands dropped from his face as you stared at him incredulously. “Haven’t what?”
“This!” Eddie shrieked with frustration. He removed his hands from your tits to pull his boxers over his exposed dick. “I haven’t had a chick dream about me! Or storm into my house with her tits out! Or blow me! Or even--”
The realization hit you like a bag of bricks. Shocked, you blurted, “Oh, my god. You’re a virgin.”
Eddie seized his speech mid rant--mouth snapping shut like a gator’s.
This couldn’t be. Eddie? Eddie Munson? He’d been in high school forever and he never had a girlfriend? Not once? The guy who was like nineteen or twenty? Old enough to go to bars and clubs and--didn’t he play in a band? No girls hung around after the show to try and sleep with the band? Especially now that you’ve seen what he was hiding in those tight black jeans of his.
“How?” you gasped, completely by accident.
Frustrated and embarrassed, Eddie snapped. “It just never happened, okay? No one wants to fuck the freak! Except you, I guess,” he added hastily. “But I think I just ruined that.”
True, you never saw a girl hanging around Eddie at school, but you thought it was just because he was into girls outside of the high school scope. His own age, from bars, from people he knew from earlier years at Hawkins High. With how Eddie carried himself--so sure and in your face--the thought didn’t occur to you that he’d never done anything before.
Your shoulders sagged as the full weight of disappointment sank in. If Eddie was a virgin, he wouldn’t have any idea on how to give you what you wanted. Weeks of dreaming about him were just that--The opposite of reality. Fantasies. Falsehood. The type of rush and satisfaction you got from your dreams would not be received here today, and that was almost devastating. Despite his ignorance of the female body, he probably didn’t want you--someone who barely spoke to him before today--to be the one to champion his first time.
You also felt stupid. So fucking stupid for having built up this guy in your head, only to be so very wrong about him. For as big and bad as Eddie Munson tried to make himself, he was currently the epitome of one of Madonna’s greatest hits.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie grumbled bitterly. “Trust me, no one is more disappointed than I am about it.”
Swallowing harshly, you nodded and tried to smile the ache away. “It’s okay. I’m just surprised. But um--I should probably get going--”
Eddie’s face fell into panic. “No!” he shouted loudly, making you jump at the volume. “I mean--you don’t have to go. We can still do whatever you want. If you want.”
Did you still want to? There was the matter of the soreness in your belly that would only get worse the longer you were left unsatisfied, but you didn’t really have the patience for Eddie to try and figure out how to touch you.
You tried to play it off politely. “Don’t you want your first time to be with someone you care about? I wouldn’t want to take that from--”
“Take it!” Eddie interrupted. “Swear, you’ll be making both of our dreams come true.”
It was difficult to argue with that. You were already here with nothing else to do. And after the hell you went through to make yourself presentable for him? You deserved at least something. The image you curated of him was already shattered to bits. Could any further harm be done at this point?
Eddie took the silence of your deliberation as an opportunity to plead his case. Sliding his large hands up your back, he leaned forward to plant a kiss on your collarbone.
“You could teach me,” he said softly before moving his mouth to attend to the curve of your breast. “Show me what you like.”
Now there was an idea. None of the guys you had been with before were virgins, but they also weren’t very knowledgeable on what it took to please you. With Eddie not having any prior experience, it would be easier to get him to do what you needed so you could both enjoy it, instead of him getting off and you having to take care of yourself after anyway.
Twisting your arm behind your back, you unhooked your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders. “Only if you promise not to use what I show you on anyone else.”
Eddie licked his lips as he watched the lace drop to fully reveal your breasts. “Wouldn’t dare.” Tentatively, as if he was scared to move too fast, Eddie cupped the soft flesh and lifted.
“They’re heavy,” he said with surprise.
You chuckled. “They can be.” Placing your hands over his, you guided him where you wanted him, and told him to squeeze.
“That doesn’t hurt?” he asked curiously.
You shook your head. “You’re not gonna hurt me, Eddie. Just…do what you want, and I’ll let you know if I don’t like it.”
“What if you do like it?”
Your patience was already thinning. “You’ll know.”
There it was again. That tantalizing tongue of his poking out of the side of his mouth as he finally gave in.
Gripping his shoulders for stability, your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of him kneading your chest. Experimenting with pressure, noting that your breath hitched when he held you a little firmer—the way your head tilted back when he brushed his palms over the pebbled flesh of your nipples. His hands felt just as good as you hoped they would. Maybe even better, as they were rougher than you imagined. The harsh texture in contrast to your smooth skin fueled the fire brewing between your legs. The contented sigh that fell from your parted lips when he rolled them between his fingers. Pinching, tugging, sometimes too hard but he paid attention to your direction, never making the same mistake twice.
When his mouth enveloped the hardened nub, you felt all the breath leave your lungs in a rapid huff as you lurched forward involuntarily from the pulse of pleasure coursing through you.
No one had done that to you before. The most attention your boobs ever got was clumsy groping and a sloppy wet kiss to the tops. Never had anyone swirled their tongue over your nipples, and suddenly you felt very cheated.
“Keep doing that,” you breathed, finally living out another fantasy of threading your finger through his hair at the base of his neck to hold him close. It was softer than it looked--thicker and lush. You wondered what it would feel like tickling the inside of your thighs.
Eddie changed course, going from languid swirls to quick flicks that sent jolts of need through your body. Your hips started to rock on their own accord, gliding your sopping cunt over his cock.
Eddie groaned loudly—the vibrations making you whimper. He dropped his hands from your breasts, ignoring the meek whine of protest from you at the loss of contact, and instead focused on gripping the bare fat of your ass beneath your skirt to move you how he wanted—pulled down flush against him and faster. Your hips sped up to meet his pace, relishing in the way the head of his cock bumped your clit with each pass.
He pulled off of your breast with your nipple gently clenched between his teeth, releasing it with a primal growl. You hoped he would show the same attention to the other side, but instead he directed his mouth to the column of your throat--sucking lightly, nipping and licking his way around.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he groaned. “Makin such pretty noises for me.”
“Y-you can only leave marks--” you began breathlessly, interrupted by a mouth escaping your lips at the feel of him finding that sweet spot at the juncture of your neck. “--if I can mark you.”
Eddie’s response was indecipherable between the grunt that emitted from him, the way his lips latched onto the soft skin of your neck, and whatever he was trying to mumble. The sting of the suction on your throat paired with the vibrations of his failed attempt at speech was becoming too much.
“You’re soaking me, baby,” he moaned. “Feels so fucking good.”
Grip tightening on your ass, his hips bucked into you, causing shockwaves to roll through the tendrils of your nerves. Finally, the ache you’d been suffering from for weeks was going to be cured. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to subsiding the dull burn in the pit of your stomach with each rhythmic roll of your hips against his. Abdominal muscles fluttering, hole clenching around nothing, blood like molten lava through your veins, moaning and panting with abandon--If he felt this good without even being inside you, you couldn’t wait to find out what like it felt like to be filled with him.
You could just reach down, yank your ruined underwear to the side and slide down the length of him, but you couldn’t stop your movements long enough to do so. You were climbing to your peak and fast.
But Eddie beat you to it. As soon as you opened your mouth to tell him you were on the precipice of seeing stars, Eddie gave one--two more rough thrusts as he let out an animalistic growl in the crook of your neck.
Panic set in. “No. No!” you whined to yourself, trying not to lose impending orgasm by continuing to ride him relentlessly, but it was too late. The tingle had already faded too far to get back without having to start all over.
Disappointed, you closed your eyes to prevent tears of frustration from falling and laid your head atop his in defeat.
Eddie didn’t move from your neck. “Goddamn it! I’m sorry,” he panted. “I’m so fucking sorry. You just--it felt so good and I--fuck!”
“It’s okay,” you replied flatly. If you weren’t mere seconds from cumming your brains out, it would have been hot. Getting him so worked up that he couldn’t control himself? Cumming in his frog underwear while he clutched onto for dear life? Literally the subject of your dreams. But with how sore your gut was getting, it was almost cruel to have lost your well earned orgasm so close to the finish line.
Eddie pulled away from you, looking quite dejected with bits of your hair stuck to his wet lips. “It’s not,” he said breathlessly. “Let me make it up to you. Please? I can still make you feel good. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be good to go.”
He looked so pitiful. Big brown eyes shining at you. Lips pouty. Chest heaving as he pleaded for another chance.
How could you say no to that face? To the offer, really. None of the others would have ever cared that you didn’t get yours, if they even noticed at all.
“Okay,” you answered with a nod. “But, can we go to your room?”
“Yes!” Eddie exclaimed with relief. “Yeah. Uh, let me just--give me a few minutes to clean it up a little.”
You untangled yourself from him and stood to your feet, embarrassed by the stickiness of your thighs. You’d never gotten that wet before, not even by yourself.
“Holy shit!” Eddie laughed, staring at his lap.
You were instantly mortified by the sight. Eddie wasn’t joking--you did soak him. Between your fluids and his, the navy blue boxers were saturated.
Panic fluttered in your chest. He probably thought it was gross. “Sorry, I didn’t mean--”
“Sorry?” Eddie repeated. “Sorry for what? This is--this is fucking hot. I mean, not mine so much, but holy shit.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Eddie was downright…beaming. Eyes kissing in the corners from how large his toothy grin was as he admired your joint handiwork. “You don’t think it’s gross?”
Eddie wiggled his brows. “Lucky boxers just got luckier.”
Huh. That was new too. Mostly that aspect of your body was treated as something to be ashamed of.
“Your room?” you prodded gently.
“Oh! Right.” Eddie pulled his jeans up from his thighs before standing, holding them up to his hips in lieu of buckling them. “Don’t leave!” he shouted as he sprinted down the short hallway.
You chuckled to yourself as he disappeared from sight. Who would have thought Eddie Munson was so…dorky? The image he projected at school and the one you conjured in your head weren’t him at all--Brash, tough, something to be feared or avoided, possibly demented. What a crock. He was goofy. Maybe even sweet. And certainly easier on the eyes than you gave him credit for.
You took the opportunity to find your shirt from the living room floor and try to locate your bra that you threw from the kitchen while Eddie did…whatever he was doing in there. More various banging and swearing emitted from the depths of the hallway that made it sound like he was trying to tear the place down instead of clean it up.
At a closer look of the walls within the Munson home, more than hats and mugs stood out to you. A couple of photos bleached by the sun were tacked to the sheet rock. One showed a large older woman with glasses the size of the moon atop her nose sitting at a wooden table with a handful of cards, a cigarette burning between her fingers, and an expression that you’d bet your life was caused by a winning hand at whatever game she was playing. Another with two little boys in matching coveralls outside a wired fence, both grimacing and squinting to protect themselves from the bright light of the sun. The one next to it was of a girl—who couldn't be older than seventeen—holding a baby with a head full of wild curls, bright wide eyes, grinning proudly to show the two tiny teeth cutting above his gums.
“I know that face,” you grinned, flattening the curled photo against the wall for a better look.
Eddie poked his head through the doorframe. “Did you say something?”
You tapped the picture and took great joy in watching his cheeks pinken at the realization of what you were looking at.
“So you were always cute,” you replied happily.
The color of Eddie’s face rivaled that of a tomato. Watching him become flustered was probably your new favorite thing to do to him. Mean and scary Munson blushing and curling inwards at a compliment? Interesting, indeed.
He cleared his throat and pointed his thumb towards his room. “Do you wanna—?”
Absolutely you did. You followed him with a nod into the small bedroom and took it all in. This was certainly what you expected his room to look like, though if this was the clean version you wondered what it looked like a few minutes ago. He did make the bed at least. Posters and drawings that looked like they were cataloged straight from hell lined the walls. Monsters, demons, skeletons, witches—some printed, painted, and hand drawn. The dresser and desk were covered with stuff. Tools, magazines, ashtrays, were those bullet shells? And a light blue box of condoms topped with a thin layer of dust.
You inspected the obviously unopened box and held back giggles. “Don’t Think we should use these. They expired in September of 1982.”
Horrified, Eddie snatched the package from your hand and stammered, “My uncle—when I started high school.” He gulped, comically tossing the offending material over his shoulder into the abyss. “He thinks he’s funny.”
His attention immediately went to your still bare chest, eyes boring into it like he could see the future through your tits. Suddenly feeling quite awkward and self conscious, you crossed your arms to hide yourself from him, unsure of what to do next.
“You’re pretty overdressed,” you pointed out. While you were only down to stringy lace underwear and a black skirt, Eddie wasn’t missing any clothing.
Breaking from his trance, Eddie scrambled fast as lightning to pull his shirt over his head, accidentally snagging a fistful of his hair along with it causing him to hiss. It was so difficult not to laugh, watching him scamper to free himself of his jeans, but when he stood to his full height in nothing but his ruined boxer shorts, you took a step closer to admire his body.
He was certainly taller than you—your eyes only meeting the middle of his tattooed chest. There was more ink there too. A horrible looking skull. A spider. A dagger with some sort of weird writing on it. But it was all so fitting of him. The black dye complimented his alabaster skin nicely.
As did the shadow of muscles on his abdomen. He was a lot more built than you thought he was under those layers of leather and denim. He wasn’t big enough for the football team, but he would probably do well in soccer with those long legs of his.
Toying with the guitar pick that dangled from his necklace, you looked up at him from your lashes. “You should probably kiss me.”
Eddie swallowed hard at the suggestion, making you grin a little at how nervous he still seemed to be despite being in nothing but his underwear.
But he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. The way his big brown eyes were raking over you, like he could see through your very soul, made you shrink a little under the strength of his gaze. But he had a sweet smile stretched across his lips--the kind that let his dimples dent his cheeks.
“You really are good lookin’,” you blurted.
Eddie chuckled softly, gently moving the loose strands of hair out of your face with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous.” He moved his hand to caress your cheek, the other delicately tracing up the back of your arms with only the pads of your fingertips, sending shivers down your spine at the featherlight touch.
This kind of attention was something new. Something you hadn’t experienced before except for maybe with Steve, but the betrayal you felt after he ignored you once he got what he wanted left you bitter. Other experiences weren’t as…intimate. Gentle. Soothing, even. And you felt a tad bit guilty for coming on to Eddie so strongly, knowing full well what it was like to only be used for your body.
This was his first time doing anything ever with a girl. And while yes, you were desperate to get some sort of relief from the horrible tension in your stomach, you were enjoying Eddie’s sincerity. That’s what it had to be, right? He wasn’t like Steve with an ulterior motive--Eddie knew he was going to have you. And he decided to be sweet anyway.
You took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his slim waist, holding him close in a tight hug. He was so warm. Radiating heat that you gladly absorbed, taking in a breath as you pressed your cheek against his sternum. “You’re not what I thought you’d be like,” you admitted shamelessly.
Eddie returned the gesture, pressing your bare chest into his as close as he could--scratchy palms sliding up and down your back--occasionally clutching the soft curves. “And what’s that? Mean and scary?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach that came to life when he kissed the crown of your head. “I’d thought you’d be…rough. Maybe a little mean. Domineering.”
With your face buried in his torso, you didn’t see Eddie frown or furrow his brows. “Is that what you like?”
You took some time to think before answering. “I don’t know what I like, Eddie. No one’s ever asked,” you sighed. And it was true. With your limited encounters, you didn’t have good concrete data on what did it for you. Billy was what you accused Eddie of being, and you could count on one hand the amount of times you actually enjoyed yourself, only to be reprimanded for it later.
Eddie’s grip tightened, and he peppered a few more kisses atop your head, temples, and the edge of your hairline. Each one making your heart flutter faster and the heat in your cheeks rise. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. I know what I liked in my dreams,” you added thoughtfully. “We could always give it a shot. If you want to, I mean.”
Eddie pulled away just enough to lock eyes with you--tilting your head up further with the knuckle of his index finger. “I’d sure as shit love to, but you gotta know, I’m not him. Whoever you’ve been dreaming about. I mean, I already disappointed you with being--you know.” Eddie gulped, lightly nibbling at the edge of his bottom lip.
You placed a quick peck onto the corner of his mouth, and another on the other side. “I know. You don’t have to be anyone or anything. Just you. I’m sorry if I’ve made you think otherwise.”
Eddie nodded, the edge of his lip ticking up into a fragment of a smile. “Still want me then? I’ll still die a very happy man if you change your mind.”
“Oh, I still want you, Eddie Munson,” you chuckled heartily.
“Well then,” Eddie grinned, removing your hands from behind his back and bringing your knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. “You shall have me.”
You couldn’t stop giggling. Giggling for god’s sake. It was so cheesy. Such a bad line. If anyone else had said it, you probably would have snorted and rolled your eyes. But Eddie? Something about him made it work--the way his eyes practically sparkled or the fact that he just kissed the tops of your hands like some Victorian Royal. Why hadn’t you paid any attention to him before? You could almost kick yourself for believing what everyone else said about him instead of finding out for yourself. But you were here now, and didn’t want to waste anymore time. You wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing his face down to be able to catch him in a kiss.
This time was better. Instead of rushing him, you let him set the pace--take the lead--let him be the one to decide if and when he wanted to deepen the kiss. You followed his movements, moving with him and trying to give pointers with your own body language when things got a little…lost. The longer it went, the more his confidence grew. Languid licks into your mouth turned into more adventurous tugging at your bottom lip. And before long, you were on the bed with Eddie hovering over you--skirt and underwear cast aside somewhere in the chaos of his room.
Body practically searing, you held your breath as Eddie traced his fingertips over the soft expanse of your belly. Normally self consciousness of how you looked would cloud your mind with doubt—stretch marks, the size and shape of your abdomen—but with how Eddie gazed at you with a slack jaw and brown eyes almost pleading, you forgot to think too much about it.
“Can I touch you?” he asked carefully, rubbing his large palm against your stomach.
Though you were glad Eddie cared enough to ask permission, you were becoming increasingly impatient as lust clouded your mind. “I might kill you if you don’t,” you answered with a huff.
Eddie licked his lips and spared a glance between your legs. You let your knee drop further, inviting him to explore. He slid his palm down to slide his fingers along your sticky slit. A sigh of relief rushed from your lips at the contact, and your hips instinctively followed his fingers for more.
His eyes clenched shut as he groaned through parted lips. “Oh, fuck. You’re so wet.”
“It’s cause of you,” you praised, threading your fingers in his hair and holding his forehead to yours once again. “You did this to me.”
Eddie audibly gulped, unable to both carry on a conversation and focus on his fingers at the same time. He was being too delicate for your liking, barely able to feel the brush of his fingertips. Desperate to help, you put your hand over his, showing him how you wanted to be touched.
“Like this,” you said, adding more pressure against his middle finger as he traced the path from your entrance to your clit, breath hitching at the tingling sensation when he reached it.
“And just--” your pressed his fingers harder against you, showing him just how you liked to be rubbed. You tried to tell him he could switch it up between small circles or figure eights, but the only thing that came out of you were little squeaks of appreciation. The callus of his fingertips against the delicate flesh there was hypnotizing to say the least.
“That’s good?” he questioned with a furrowed brow.
The circular ministrations he applied to your clit kept you from doing anything other than nod dumbly. But that seemed to be acceptable to Eddie, whose lips twisted into a lopsided grin.
You moved your grasp from his hand to find purchase on his forearm instead. His half lidded eyes stayed focused on yours. “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this,” he admitted.
You wanted to tell him you were getting a hell of a lot out of it too, but again, words failed you. Instead, you settled for a breathy “Mhm” and let yourself get lost in his touch.
Within a few minutes, Eddie got more spontaneous. He moved his attention back down to your hole, keeping the heel of his palm right where you wanted. You were surprised when he teased your entrance with his finger without being prompted, but enjoyed the attention nonetheless. When you answered his raised brow with a nod, the delightful stretching around his thick finger paired with the friction on your sensitive button was nothing short of relief. You greedily took what he gave you, rocking your hips steadily to set the pace you wanted from him, and he happily obliged. Swiftly gliding his finger in and out with calculated compression against your clit.
“Yes,” you cooed with a heaving chest. “Jus-just like that.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groaned, hot breath fanning against your face. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. Jesus Christ.”
He never took his eyes away from yours. You wanted so desperately to kiss him, but somehow this was far more intimate. Noses nudging against each other, lips barely brushing to breath in every whine he coaxed out of you. He was so gorgeous like this. Brown eyes dark and hazy, pouty lips open in a silent ‘O’ as his brow furrowed in concentration. He made pretty noises too, panting and groaning along with you like it felt just as good to him.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Eddie,” you whimpered, grip tightening on his forearm. “Eddie, I need you.”
“‘M right here.”
Shaking your head, you moved your grasp from his arm to his cock. “Need you. Inside.”
All of his movements ceased. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Really? Like now?”
“Yes, now!” you whined.
“Right! Sorry! Just can’t--really can’t believe this is about to happen,” he babbled. He made quick work of getting rid of his boxers before adjusting himself properly. He was heavy, but in a way that brought you comfort as he draped his body over yours and caged your head between his forearms. Both breathing heavily from exhilaration, you took a second to revel in the moment.
“Holy shit!” he laughed.
Brushing the long waves behind his ear, you nodded and leaned up just enough to press a tender kiss to his plump lips.
Eddie couldn’t contain his excitement. He moved from your lips, you kissing all over your face before settling for sloppy opened mouth kisses dotting a path from your collarbone up to that mind numbing spot at the juncture of your neck. As soon as his teeth scraped against it, you squeezed his hips with your knees, the craving for him only intensifying. The feel of his breath on your neck, hair tickling your chin and cheek, the weight of his chest pressing against yours was all too dizzying.
“Need you,” you whimpered against his cheek. You dipped your hand between your bodies to grab his length and poise it at your entrance.
Eddie groaned at the desperation in your demand. Sliding the head of his cock between your drenched folds, the torture of him being so close was getting to be too much. Your body jolted with every bump of his cock against your swollen bud. You were getting impatient, and needed him to be inside already.
“Eddie, please,” you begged.
Breathing raggedly, Eddie obliged. He pushed himself in with you guiding him, emitting a groan of satisfaction that rumbled from the depths of his chest. Yours was just as loud as you felt him slide into you, walls stretching with that delicious bite to consume him completely.
As soon as he reached his end, a simultaneous breath of relief flowed between both of you. It was almost intoxicating being so full of him. It didn’t seem like you could feel anything else but him, both inside and out, and you were deliriously addicted to it. You tangled your fingers into the curls of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked him down to meet your lips and a hungry kiss. You wanted him to understand just how much you wanted him. Greedy, sloppy, and feverish—you put all your unbridled desire into curling your tongue around his, roughly nipping his bottom lip.
Breathing heavily, Eddie pulled away. “It’s okay?”
You nodded vigorously, almost begging him with the look in your eye to please give you what you wanted. “You can move.”
Inching back, the slow drag of his cock between your tight walls was enough to arch your back, already missing the feel of engulfing him completely. But when he snapped his hips forward in a powerful thrust, you couldn’t help the wanton moan that escaped your lips.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
You hummed in response, unable to formulate more of a reply than that. Even if he didn’t know what he was doing yet, being stuffed full of him was already a relief of its own.
He experimented with pace and tempo. It took some time for him to find a rhythm that was to your liking. You didn’t want to be too bossy or demanding, so you kept your queues limited to directing his hips with your hands—subtly maneuvering him until you found just the right motion that made your head flop back onto the pillows. It was his first time after all, and you didn’t want him to lose confidence with constant redirection.
“There!” you gasped once he found the spot you could never reach on your own. “Right there, baby.”
“Yeah?” Eddie grunted back. His hips rutted into yours in a steady, fast paced rhythm that kept you bucking into him for more. It was too good to not keep chasing the sensation of him gliding into you with each forceful pump of his cock.
Whatever he was hitting seemed to also be the off switch to your brain. All thoughts were erased from your mind in an instant, only leaving behind an instinctual need for more.
“Yeah,” you repeated, no longer in control of the words falling from your lips. “Yes. Yes!”
He dropped his chest down further, sweat slicked skin sliding against yours as he devoured your breathy moans in a heated kiss. You practically shouted at the new pressure of his pelvis grinding against your clit. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and locked your ankles together to keep him right where you wanted.
“So fucking perfect,” he said thrkigh gritted teeth. “Look so pretty taking my cock.”
Normally dirty talk would have been another eyeroll and possibly get rid of any sexual desire you had. But it was another thing Eddie would get away with. It could be because of how grateful he looked when he said it, or because he felt so good inside you that you couldn’t care less what came out of his mouth so long as he kept his hips moving.
You couldn’t get enough of him—wanting to feel every inch he had to offer. You held him close, letting your hands roam around the expanse of his back. Feeling every ripple his muscles that appeared with each contraction of his torso. The ridges of his ribs. The dent of the dimples on his lower back. The soft fat of his cute little ass that you pressed harder against you to get him as deep as you could.
And there it was. The perfect combination of pressure, speed, and depth.
“Eddie,” you gasped against him. “Eddie, don’t stop,” you pleaded breathlessly. “God, don’t stop.”
He drove into you harder, rewarded with the deafening sound of the headboard clashing against the wall. It was all getting to be too much for Eddie. The squealing of the old mattress springs, your cries of pleasure and death grip your hot, slick walls had on his cock, the bounce of your tits slapping against his chest all were causing his abdomen to contract in a way that could only mean one thing.
“I’m close,” he warned loudly, hips faltering a little.
Instinctively, your legs clenched tighter around him. You didn’t want to lose it. Not again. Not knowing it would just leave you frustrated and sore. “I’m almost there,” you announced. You weren’t far off, but not quite there yet. “Just a little bit more, baby, please.”
Eddie gritted his teeth and willed himself to hold it, losing both the battle and his mind with each high pitched mewl that escaped the back of your throat, each plea to not stop as you hurdled toward your release.
The hair on your arms started to stand on edge as the tingling goosebumps erupted across your naked skin. As soon as the tight coil in the pit of your belly ruptured, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body, you lost your vision. Did you black out? You couldn’t say. The only thing you could hear was the roar of blood coursing through your ears. The only sensation you could identify as you convulsed around Eddie was the tingling that radiated through every nerve you possessed. The only word you could pronounce between wails and blissful sobs was “Eddie!”
Finally. After weeks of dreaming, you had Eddie Munson. After a year or so of solo ventures, you had an orgasm that wasn’t by your own hand. After years of bad to mediocre sex, you had the best climax of your life. At fucking last.
When your body went completely boneless and released Eddie from the vice grip your legs had on him, he abandoned his post and collapsed next to you in a breathless, wheezing heap.
You found Eddie’s sweaty hand and laid yours atop it. He flipped it over and interlaced his fingers with yours, clutching tightly. A nonverbal way to say “I’m still here.”
Minutes ticked by as you tried to float back into your body. Eddie’s popcorn ceiling was all you could focus on while your heart stopped pulsing so hard against your face to where you could physically see the rapid beating. And when your lungs stopped screaming for air, you turned your head to see Eddie still struggling to breathe.
“Shit, I gotta quit smoking,” Eddie wheezed.
You giggled and watched as he placed sloppy kiss on the back of your hand. “Glad you think that’s funny,” he jested.
“Want me to get you some water?” You offered, trying to supress your giggles at his red and sweaty face.
He shook his head. “I’ll get us both some in a second.”
You pushed yourself up on your elbow, your hand still tangled with his, and placed your chin on his chest. “Did you cum?”
“Oh hell yeah!” Eddie answered eagerly. “Hard not to when there’s a hot chick screaming my name.”
You hid your face by burying it in his chest, concerned about what you said and how you sounded.
As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie tapped the top of your head until you reluctantly looked at him. “So fucking hot. Wouldn’t change a thing. C’mere.”
You obliged, crawling up Eddie’s chest and meeting him in a smooch. A quick peck turned into two. Into three. Into one long kiss that stole what little breath you regained.
A sudden sense of dread settled in your stomach when you watched the way Eddie’s eyes raked over you. You could clearly see adoration. Appreciation. Glee. And while the look on his face should have brought you comfort and ease, anxiety took hold. Steve looked at you the same way, and that was a ruse. What if this turned out to be the same? Eddie could easily kick you to the curb now that he got what he wanted. It’s what all men did, isn’t it?
Nervously, you began to fiddle with one of the rings on his fingers. “You know, there’s one part of my dreams that I hope comes true.”
Eddie raised his brow. “Do tell.”
“You don’t forget me in the morning.”
Eddie snorted. “Sweetheart, I’m never going to forget you. Even when I’m old and in the corner of some nursing home, I’ll always remember this night.”
“That’s not what I mean, Eddie,” you said sadly. “I don’t want you to act like this never happened or ignore me.”
Eddie’s smile slid from his face, an expression of concern replacing it. “I’m not gonna do that. I’d invite you to spend the night—shit, the whole damn weekend—but I didn’t wanna scare you. Come off creepy or whatever.”
Your abdomen felt lighter. “You mean it?”
He kissed your forehead with a wet, loud smack. “I should have told you—when I said you have me, I meant it. I am your ever faithful, humble servant.”
Those damn giggles returned. “Then I suppose I’ll keep you, so long as you’ll have me.”
The rest of the night was better than you could have ever imagined. After a shower that left you covering in half a dozen hickies or more, You both talked about everything that came to mind, often getting sidetracked and falling down other rabbit holes of stories before looping back to the initial thought that started it all. Eddie let you see some of the most vulnerable parts of himself, and in turn, you showed him those parts of you. Before you knew it, the front door of the trailer slammed shut, announcing the arrival of the eldest Munson.
Eddie grabbed his alarm clock and showed you the angry red numbers.
You gasped at the time. “Six in the morning?! Eddie, we’ve been up all night!”
He tossed the clock carelessly onto his nightstand, not at all looking concerned when it crashed to the floor. “Stop being interesting for five minutes so we can go to sleep.”
You rolled your eyes at him, but snuggled closer into his chest. This is where you wanted to be. Warm, held, and adored.
Though he wasn’t at all what you dreamt of, Eddie Munson was indeed a dream come true.
————————————————————
Part 2 coming soon?
For more of my writing, I recommend my current series: Disjointed.
Tagging those who responded to the feelers post and those who have been putting up w me the entire writing process!
@eddiemunsonspantschain @pastel-pillows @stayonmars @lesservillain @2clones-1kamino @laura83stuff-blog-blog @katethetank @thruheavenandhighwater @hellfiredarling @mmunson86 @b-irock
God damn I just unlocked a new kink
Ever thought of those very creepy creep stalker yanderes? The kind that are usually have greasy unwashed hair, thick glasses, wears the same dirty hoodie with stains on them. The pathetic, bottom of the barrel cuties! Gosh I love a good looking (popular) yandere that everyone is jealous of but also give me those degenerates that everyone looks at with disgust. The pathetic wet stray types. They are used to degrading words from others, more than should be acceptable, until they meet the light in their life and suddenly they are even more disgusting. Following you in broad daylight because they are too dumb to realize how OBVIOUS they are being. They haven’t done this before with anyone so they don’t know. The kind that shows up to your work odd hours of the day, but don’t even interact with you, they just stare or nervously look around when you make eye contact with them. They follow you home only for you to confront them and tell them to leave you alone, how they are a creep and you will call the police. They can’t do anything but sob and wail begging you to not hate them (they don’t really care about the police- they aren’t enough to stop them) and if you just leave them there as the shake and cry. They’ll pick themselves up and go home. But they always come back, nothing you can do to keep them away.
PATHETIC
yandere! stalker x gn! reader
warnings: i made them a male but lemme know if you want a gender neutral or female stalker version, yandere, stalking, nsfw, masochism??, male masturbation, panty/boxer thief, kinda a Valentine’s Day special (briefly mentioned lmao),
“O-oh my— Y/N— I don’t— please, holy shit, please—“ He whined, jerking your underwear up and down his dripping cock.
His head cocked back, loud, high-pitched, pornographic moans flooding from his throat. He panted, hips twitching as he bit down as hard as he could on his lip.
He gasped for air, panting as he caught the mess he’d made in your underwear, scrunching up the fabric and sighing.
This was ritualistic for him at this point.
He couldn’t help it, you just looked so cute when you glared at him in disgust upon noticing him following you into work, as you did every morning.
His heart was pounding too hard for him to keep up. He grunted, taking his glasses off and wiping away the fog he’d created with his erratic breaths.
His pathetic, rundown apartment was nothing to ogle at. With the wallpaper peeling in every corner, the water damage on the ceiling, and the mysterious stains in the carpet, it was definitely nothing to be proud of.
The little money he did make, be it from online gaming competitions or from the occasional pickpocket, all went towards you. Leaving sweet (horrifying) letters on your doorstep, cute teddies and plushies on the counter of the convenience store you worked out (what? oh, no, ignore the camera that is obviously in it’s arms— no, please don’t throw it out— damn it…), or the occasional rose left on your bed.
“Oh my god.” You muttered, picking up the box of Valentine’s chocolates that had been left on the counter of your workplace.
You didn’t bother reading who they were from— you already knew they would be from that freak.
You dumped the box into the trash and sat down, rubbing your eyes and pulling out a magazine to scan while waiting for a customer.
Unfortunately, you’d recently been moved to the night shift, which was probably your boss’s worst decision ever.
Not only did it mean business was slow when you were working, but it meant the store was almost entirely empty except for that creep that always found himself staring through the window.
You’d had just about enough. It was just an inconvenience at first, but seeing him waiting at the window and averting his gaze every time you looked at him was pissing you off.
Why stalk someone if you can’t even look them in the eyes?
You probably should’ve been more scared, but you’d learned after the first few times you tried that the police weren’t much help. This… freak of nature… was far better at avoiding the police than he was at stalking.
He always had an excuse, an alibi, or he’d just casually knock out the officers that came to investigate.
You wouldn’t have expected that sort of strength from such skinny arms, but then again, they say that rage makes the body stronger.
“Hey! You!” You shouted, pointing at him.
He grunted, hands shaking as he pointed at himself. He gasped when you nodded.
Slowly, eagerly, he made his way inside.
“What are you playing at?” You demanded, crossing your arms. “You just watch and watch and then you don’t do shit. If you’re gonna kill me, or kidnap me, or whatever, please just get it over with. Not knowing your intentions is killing me, you know that!?”
His stomach fluttered, watching your lips as you spoke. You cringed upon realizing his lips had parted, his tongue slipped between the chapped flesh.
“I-I…”
“You- you- you what?” You spat, mocking his nervous stutter.
He shuddered, grabbing the counter to steady his shaking knees. “I-I just love you, I—“
“Bullshit! Tell me the truth!”
He gulped, face flushing bright red. “P-please listen to me, I love you, I love you, Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou—“
You backed away, hand resting on the phone.
“No! Please don’t call them— please, please don’t. I don’t wanna deal with them!” He pleaded, dropping to his knees. “Please, Y/N, I love you, I’ll be whatever you want me to be, I—“
His heart jumped at the sound of the phone ringing. Tears began to stream down his cheeks.
“No, please don’t, Y/N, please, I just want to be with you, I swear to god I’ll be nothing but your stupid slave, please, please!”
It didn’t matter, anyway.
He’d just be back again tomorrow.
Like he always fucking was.
And you knew it, too, because when you woke up the next morning, there was a strongly worded apology note taped to your open window.
*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ethan landry x reader
*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drunk confessions, .2 seconds of angst, no spoilers :)
*ੈ✩ 𝐚/𝐧: part 1 of 2!! i swear i promise, i pinkie promise that part 2 will come out today
you don’t get jealous, ever.
it was your (albeit private ) defining feature. you were content with everything you had— no, beyond content: you were happy. you didn’t want anything else because you didn’t need anything else. you had a good family, enough money to keep you from debt, good friends, and even better academics.
so imagine your surprise when you get that bitter feeling boiling in your stomach at the sight of your “friend,” ethan landry, eyeing another girl.
you’re being very liberal with the term “friend,” but it’s only because you can’t think of a word to describe someone you’d been hanging out with for a few months, talking and treating them as a friend, but going home and imagining what it’d be like to fuck them senseless.
you’d probably call it a crush, but “friend” sounded much less embarrassing.
but it’s all going on at some stupid party for some stupid celebration you couldn’t care less about; all you wanted to do was get drunk enough to barely avoid a hangover. you went with your small group of friends, and eventually forced yourself to socialize once you had some juice in your system.
and it was when you were talking to some pretty girl from your liberal arts class when you saw him: leaning against the wall, red solo cup in hand, eyes stuck on a girl in a halter top with patterned shorts to match— a girl standing right across from you.
and maybe it was something in the way his fingers were tapping on the plastic cup, or the twitching of his knee, or the way that he just refused take his fucking eyes off of her—
it set you off.
suddenly you found yourself at a table full of cheap bottles of booze, and your plastic cup was full, brimming with whatever concoction of cheap seltzer and even cheaper tequila you could find. soon enough, you were weaving and dodging your way through the sweaty masses to try and find an exit.
finally, after eons (three minutes) of searching, you managed to find yourself a door, and relished in the early spring chill that hit your skin.
you tried to drink and forget, seeing as though that was the whole reason you came out here. but no matter how much jungle juice you downed, you found your mind wandering back to him.
you couldn’t stop thinking about how ethan refused to look at anyone but her, how even when people greeted him, he waved them off without even looking at them. and you couldn’t stop thinking about the way she was dancing, as if she was born to do so, and how he wouldn’t stop fucking staring at her.
you weren’t jealous— you didn’t get jealous. this wasn’t jealousy, it was just…
just what, envy? envious of what? of some dork you’ve grown particularly fond of eyeing some random girl at this stupid frat party? of the guy you’ve been harboring a crush on for months staring at a girl he didn’t even know? of ethan landry, the boy you hadn’t stopped thinking of for months, thinking about anyone but you?
no, you weren’t envious. what could you possibly be envious of?
“what are you doing out here?”
you jump at ethans voice, beginning to feel particularly sluggish— when did your cup get so light? as a matter of fact, when did it get empty?
“i could ask you the same thing,” you say, finding it increasingly difficult to formulate words.
“it got too sweaty and crowded in there,” he sits down next to you, bringing his arms close to his torso at the sudden cold breeze. “i always forget how much i hate coming to these parties.”
“then why do you keep coming?” you raise the cup to your lips, frowning when you remember its lack of contents.
he doesn’t say anything.
“is it because of a girl?” you see him tense from the corner of your vision, however foggy it may be.
ethans shaking his head. “what makes you say that?”
you shrug, carefully placing the cup by your feet. “i saw you looking at her,” his shoulders drop, and you can’t help but feel something in your chest drop too. “she’s really pretty, i think i have a few classes with her.”
“i really don’t know what you’re talking about.” he feigns ignorance, the coward.
“come on ethan, don’t pretend to be stupid, i know you’re smarter than that.” a chill runs down your spine, you tell yourself its not from the sudden realization of your close proximity to him, but instead because of the cool air around you.
“wait, are you…” he turns to you. “are you jealous?”
you scoff. “jealous? i don’t get jealous e—than,” you hiccup between the syllables of his name.
“you know, i have a tendency to misread situations, but you…” he pauses to take a dramatic breath. “you seem really jealous.”
“okay, sure but…why would i be jealous, hm? it’s not like i make the rules on what girls you can and can’t look at.” you’re staring into his eyes. those wonderful, beautiful, adjective-ful eyes that make you want to start screaming and shaking and crying and throwing up.
you can’t stop looking at his eyes, and you can feel your gaze flitting between the two.
you want ethan to quip back with something sharp and cleaver, but he doesn’t. he just turns away from you, shrugs, and keeps on nursing the drink in his hand.
for a moment, you feel guilty, another feeling you hadn’t experienced in a while. maybe that made you a good person, or maybe that just made you a socially inept asshole.
you don’t know why you feel guilty, but you suspect it has something to do with how silent ethan is, or how his brows are leaning with regret, or how his shoulder are slumped much more than they were a second ago.
“i wasn’t looking at her,” ethan mutters, breaking your shared silence. “i was…looking at someone else.”
you want to curse him out because, really, why did it matter if he was looking at another girl? it was someone who wasn’t you, and that’s all that mattered.
“i don’t care ethan, it’s not that serious—” you cut yourself off when you turn to him, frozen in how quickly you drown in his puppy dog eyes.
and then it hits you.
he wasn’t looking at that girl, he was looking at someone else.
he was looking—
“at you.”
oh.
oh.
you want to say something, you really do. in any other situation, if it played out exactly like this but minus the alcohol, you’d be able to come up with some poetic ass speech about love and devotion and life—
but you’re drunk, and you can’t think. you don’t want to think.
so instead, you act.
instead, you kiss him.
your hands are grasping at his shirt and you’re kissing him hard. you don’t care if it’s sloppy or bad, you just care that you’re kissing him.
and, obviously, ethan cares too.
because in a moment, one of his hands are brushing the crook of your neck, and his other arm is shaking around your waist. you know your breath tastes like black cherry white claw and dollar store tequila, but with the way ethan was kissing you, it was as if you were the best thing he’d ever had in his life.
it’s like he’s starving— as if he’s been waiting for this for months. and you wonder, passively, if he’d been pining for you all this time as well. you want to ask him, but asking him would mean you’d have to stop kissing him, and at this point you’d rather die than have that happen.
so you’re quick to pull yourself onto his lap, stradding one of his thighs. you’ve just started to work with the hem of his shirt and god just feeling his v-line makes you dizzy— but ethan pulls away, and you feel your jaw slack at the sight of his lust-blown pupils and spit-kissed lips.
“as much as i want this to happen,” you note how heavy he’s breathing. “i really wouldn’t want to have sex with you on the front steps of a house party.”
you’re standing up with a curt nod, pulling ethan by the hand as you back up.
“also my room is like, twelve minutes away—”
“my house is just down the block, and my roommates are gone for the weekend.”
ethan glances towards the direction that you gestured in, and nearly trips over his shoes as you start walking towards it.
“yeah, that actually sounds perfect.”
all the way home, neither one of you can stop imagining what it’s going to be like to get fucked senseless.
Hi, I saw that you write for avatar, does it include all the characters? Spider for example?
Yes! Every avatar character including the ones from the first movie and the second!
Could you do a story but with male reader pleasee <3
Creepy!Ethan Landry x Male!Reader
Masterlist if you want to read my other things.
CW/TW: Phone-sex, sub!Ethan, AMAB Reader, stalker Ethan, dirty talk from Ethan (like really), reader has a dick and has he/him pronouns, FILTHY
(put me in jail)
Been dead for months and came back to life for some smut, what a life man (I do not respect myself)
I didn't know if you meant male reader as in AMAB or else so I post this and I'll probably do others where reader's genitals parts are not specified.
05/05/2024 (3147 words)
Your relationship with Ethan was not the easiest. He was hard to understand, for anyone really. You’ve known each other for a few months, been really close as well. Chad, his roommate, was often absent. Whether working or out with friends. While Ethan was calmer, learning his lessons and globally just more insecure to go out that much.
Of course you’d offer to come to his place when he was bored or wanted to hang out with you. You met in class, you were paired together for a project and became good friends ever since. Ethan and you spent almost every afternoon after class at his place, talking, working or watching movies. He wasn’t an open man, for example, he categorically refuses you to enter his room. Though Chad, who you stumbled upon one day before he left for his girlfriend’s, assured you he was forbidden to enter as well.
Ethan was a private man, you did not know anything about his family or love interest, you did not even know whether he liked you or not, as you sure started to like him. How could you not ? He was kind, nerdy, smart and handsome. Sadly, you believed he never thought about you that way.
Until one night, after a movie session that exhausted you both, you found yourself cuddling on the couch, dizzy and half conscious.
It started when two men on screen start getting closer and closer to each other. You know how there's more gays showed on TV, sometimes you hate it because people look at you weird when this shows up, like you're the one who fucking put it in the movie.
But tonight, you hated it even more because your crush was here.
The worst is not knowing if Ethan is gay or not. Straight men love to laugh about gay sex, (why, you don't know but maybe it's funny) it's possible for him to start saying things like "Aha gay funny and weird aha peepee in the ass" or some shit. But Ethan's finger, who was on the cushion between you, inches towards your thigh. Confused, you tried to read his face but his eyes were solely in the screen, cheeks burning red.
It escalated quickly from there, he pulled you onto his lap, his hands were groping your ass, your lips on his, you touching his chest, his tongue against yours. You did not have sex with him as Chad came back in the middle of you humping his roommate, interrupting you and forcing you to separate from each other. You also did not have sex with him seeing as the next day he avoided you like the plague. You never actively told him of your attraction for men, but never hid it either. You left clues, small interactions when you’d mention finding someone handsome, never speaking about women you find sexy or, whatever straight men usually talk about. But you think you showed it enough that night.
Ethan, on the other hand, kept his love life pretty secret from you.
He never mentioned any crush or exes, whether it was men or women. Ethan could be friends with anyone, yes, you know that gay men could be friends with men as well but you were getting desperate to find out what he really was so you were taking what you could. What if he has a crush on Chad ? It was possible, after all. Or maybe he was talking to men online, you never know. But he could also very well talk to women online, and have a crush on a girl somewhere.
Ethan is cute, he’s sexy, even. Of course you’d be devastated after your kiss. He ignored you ! You read online of straight men trying things with men only for the thrill of it, to know how it is and everything but you never experienced it for yourself. Ethan isn’t like that, right ? Has he even had any partner before ? You don’t remember it.
It's dragging your own feet that you enter your apartment. Shoulders tensed and legs burning. Taking out your keys out of your pocket, you inch them towards the door only to let them drop on the ground. You sigh, feeling your nerves on the edge of exploding.
You crouch down, picking them up before putting it in the keyhole only for the key to be stuck. You frown and, confused, you push the door. It opens with no resistance.
What the... ? You didn't lock the door ? What crossed your mind this morning ! In such a crazy city no less ! But as there's no signs of any intruder being here or having been here, you simply unprepare yourself in the bathroom before enjoying a shower.
Drying up quickly, you realize having forgotten your pajamas in your bedroom. Towel around the waist, you search tiredly in your closet for any clothes you can sleep in. Seeing none, you question yourself about where you last put them. Did you put them in the washing machine ? You don't remember. Then where are your damn pajamas ? At one point, you grab a simple shirt before going back to the bathroom.
You place the towel on the heater for it to dry up but in doing so you take a look at yourself in the mirror. You frown.
What's that ? That's not your t-shirt ? You take it between your index and thumb, creasing the fabric. When was the last time you invited someone over ? Did it belong to one of your exes's ? You can't seem to remember.
You sniff it for a second, even if the odds were low, that maybe the person's smell would still be there. It's not, well, you don't think it is anyway. It smells clean, not a perfume, more like simple laundry.
As long as it's clean ! And nobody ever asked you to give it back so... Guess it's yours now. Before leaving for the kitchen, you check the pile of dirty clothes in your closet, learning with surprise that a lot of your supposed clean clothes are in it.
Okay, you're definitely going crazy to forget such things.
You rub your face, trying to wake you up before finally going to the kitchen. Phone is discarded on the counter while you search for anything good in the fridge. But a ringing followed by numerous vibrations grabs your attention away. Dragging your feet to your phone, you're confused at the sigh of a number you previously erased, waning to forget it.
Ethan Landry.
Ethan is calling you, you know it because you memorized his number. You let the ringtone pass, hoping he would give up. When your vocal messaging informed him to leave a message, you thought he would finally send you a text and let it go. But he called again, and again. Until you pick up, after the third call.
Only to be greeted by utter silence.
Great, he harasses you by phone and doesn't talk. What is wrong with him ? He better have good excuses.
“Ethan ? you ask, confused. A throat clearing on the other hand of the call is the only proof of his presence.
-Uh, hi, man. How, uh, how are you doing ? he asks, more awkward than ever. He’s out of breath.
Weird, why is he talking like that ? You check the time with a frown, he’s probably still in public transport, hence his breathless state. It’s Wednesday, the day he goes for errants. That’s probably where he was.
-I’m fine, man." You insisted particularly on the last word. "How are you doing ? Why the late call ? " It’s not that late by any means, it’s only 7PM (19h) but it’s confusing coming from him, especially after his long absence.
-I was just… Checking, I guess. It’s been a while.
Of course it has, he’s the one who ghosted you.
-Right, that's not really my fault though…” Awkward. What's he going to say now ? What does he really want ?
-Yeah, I kind of panicked, I guess. Sorry about that." And that's it. His sole excuse is "I panicked". Great. Nice. He clearly cares for you a lot ! How could you crush on this guy ?
You’re able to hear crumplings on his side, which makes you ask yourself whether he is really in transports or already home. Though, there is no way you’ll ask him directly, that’ll make him believe you still think about him and remember his week’s schedule. Which you do, you still think about him and know his damn schedule. Ethan takes a deep breath, as if to instill courage into himself.
“It’s gonna sound weird, I’m aware. He pauses, preparing you (or himself) to his next words. Can you just talk to me ? You can tell me anything, really.
-What ?
-I can't sleep.
Is that a good or bad thing that he thought about you before sleeping ? You’d say bad, as he ignored you for weeks before, visibly, deciding he needed you enough to come back.
-Wow, I’m flattered you thought about me to fall asleep. You say ironically. Am I that boring ?
-No, you’re not… You’re not boring. He gulps his saliva. Just talk to me, please. I like your voice.
Something’s wrong with his voice. It’s like he remains out of breath. Maybe he’s running ? He’s a strong man, he’s probably doing a marathon or something. Wait, what are you talking about, he said he needed to sleep. He’s not running at all. Then what the hell ?
-Ethan, are you sure you’re okay ? You sound weird. What are you doing ?
-Nothing, he says, but you clearly hear him exhaling a long puff of air out of his nose. I think I’m a little sick.
-Ethan ? you ask again, resulting in him coughing after, you guess, badly swallowing his own saliva.
-Just talk to me, okay ? I’m on the edge of sleeping. Particular choice of words, Ethan.
-I don’t have anything to say, honestly. I worked today, that’s all.
-Tell me all about it.
You’re a cashier, there is literally nothing interesting enough to brag about. People are mean to you, others are nice. Being a cashier is long and boring.
-Helen, you know the girl with short hair I told you about, you start after seeing he wouldn’t let go. Ethan simply hums. She dropped the big pile of canned goods at the entrance and it fell on an old woman. She threatened to sue us.”
After this, you simply told him all about your day, even the most boring stuff. It was nice to have someone listening to you after a long day, on the other hand, it was Ethan you were talking to. Never had he interrupted you, only sometimes humming at your words or letting some kind of throaty sound out, making you aware he was still awake.
Sometimes as well, he would inhale, or exhale, louder, as if falling in and out of sleep.
But most of the time, his sheets would crease under him due to his constant movements. You don't know, but he seems agitated. Maybe he had a hard day ?
“...but he told me it was my job to clean after him ! I’m a cashier, not a slave. I told him I’d call the manager and, of course, he got escorted out. Seriously, people are so impolite, why do they think it’s okay to look down on me ? He did not answer, did he finally fall asleep ?
-Ethan ?” you ask, almost whispering.
He’s not sleeping, you realize. You clearly still hear his frantic breathing, he’s talking, too. You can’t quite understand but it looks like curses. “Ethan ?” you call. Putting the call on speaker, you listen carefully to each sound coming from him. What the hell is he doing ? Your ear catches another sound, lower, distant but very much here. Confusion paints your face, you approach your ear on the screen hoping to hear better.
Faint, swift wet sounds paired with his frantic breathing create an image of Ethan you never thought you’d hear. You can only think about one thing, him laying on his bed, jerking off talking to you.
This can’t be real. Ethan, it’s Ethan on the phone. He’s not a creep. He’s a shy man, and most of all, he’s straight. Ethan can’t be attracted to you, right ? Your heart is pounding in your rib cage from panic, stress, excitation; everything at once.
“Ethan are you fucking touching yourself over me right now ? he quietly moans.
-Yes, yes I am. Please don’t hang up, just… Just wait a little bit, please." His phone hits something, probably his chest, because now all you hear are the wet movements of his hand on his member.
Is it you or is it getting kind of hot in there ?
You stare at the wall, completely lost and overwhelmed by the situation, eyes not wanting to close. Ethan is jerking off on the phone, right now. He’s moaning, having stopped hiding by now. Is it a red flag ? It’s sort of weird to masturbate on the phone with someone not even aware of it. Ethan mutters something sounding like a question, you gulp, regaining your senses and asking him to repeat.
-I need to suck your dick really bad.
Oh !
Heat spread throughout your whole body in a generalized shiver at his words. You were absolutely burning from the inside. It’s now necessary to choose or you won’t be able to later. Are you really turned on or are you just missing being desired ? Are you excited by Ethan or do you just like the idea of him finally returning your affection ? You wouldn't have been turned on if your ex told you he's been touching himself and not even listening to you, in fact, you would have got angry and humiliated. But it's Ethan and you won't meet a man like him ever again.
-Face-time me, he pleads.
Taking your phone away from your ear, you click on the camera icon without thinking. Immediately, his clothed legs appear as well as his dick, your eyes going as wide as saucers. His jogging pants are soaked, it’s sticking to his skin through the fabric. Your member twitches in your pants, one of your hands quiver closer to it.
-Look at me, he whispers.
How many times has he came already ? And was it on the phone ? You didn’t even hear him ! His dick is shiny with cum, his hand is sliding on the tip, holding it firmly. His sighs only grow louder and louder. Backing against the counter, you start rubbing your dick through your pants, enthralled by the scene before you.
All of this, just for you ?
-I’m sorry, he whimpers, I’m sorry. I… His hips move against his hand to follow the movement but he moves so fast that his dick slips out of his hold, resulting in a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. Seeing him acting so desperate has you putting your hand in your pants immediately.
-I shouldn’t have ghosted you. He mutters, fueling your ego by finally obtaining remorse from him. It’s bad, but you’re so damn horny right now you’re drinking his words. We should’ve fucked that day…
-Yeah, you sigh dreamily, we should've.
-Let me see it, let me see your dick. With such hungry words, you can’t do much but oblige. You lower your pants enough to take out your cock, pointing the camera at it. Ethan moans, his hand going down to play with his balls. Knew you’d be sexy.
Fuck, the effect he has on you was almost worrying. You were so down bad for him, glad he’s in the same situation. Knowing he thought about you like that for a moment as well was so sexy you could burst in your pants.
Blinking slowly with eyes hazed by desire, you notice his legs moving to the side, spreading open. You now realize, even if it’s logical, that he’s in his room and that you’ve never seen it before. He displayed lot of posters on his walls, it's dark so it's hard to see what is it. Looking haphazardly around him, your eyes widen in confusion, curiosity replacing horniness for a brief moment.
Something caught your eyes in his room, you did not notice it until now as his dick was honestly more important than anything, but a book is on his bed. Your hand slows its movements on your member, utterly unhinged by its content. It’s not a book but a photo album, it’s disgustingly stained with cum and the picture in it is well too familiar for your liking.
-Ethan, is that…
My face ? you thought, not having enough strength to end your sentence.
-Yeah, he moans, so sexy like that. You’re so sexy when you don’t know I’m here. So handsome. My man, mine, so sexy.
What ?
-Want you to cum on my face like I cum on yours. His hand rubs frenetically at his dick. I’d... I'd swallow it all for you, he sighs. Want to be all yours. Forever. He ends his sentence on a shaky note, making you believe he was on the verge on coming.
His movements gained speed, wet sounds invading both his place and yours. You were second guessing everything really hard.
-Want to be your cumdump for you to use when you want...” Getting chill from his words, you hang up on the spot, throwing your phone on the counter before you. Looking down, you stare at your semi soft member, suddenly feeling disgusted by what you did. You get dressed up again, putting a hand on your tummy as if to prevent you from throwing up.
What the hell was that ?
Since when did Ethan… How did he… Why… He was jerking off to pictures of you ? What is wrong with him ? At one point, Ethan must have finished his business as your phone vibrates on the counter. You send daggers at it, not wanting to look at it one bit. But somehow, you do anyway, only to regret it instantly after. He sent you a photo.
A photo of that damned book, your head close-up full of his cum with his dick on the lower part of the screen, followed by a smiling emoji. You stare at it for a while, asking yourself at which point were you supposed to guess that Ethan was a psychopath. After some seconds, he sends you another text, one you almost shiver over.
“What do you think about coming over tomorrow ?“
Jonathan: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Robin and Nancy's convo?
Argyle: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.
Eddie: I'm in the washing machine.
Steve: I'm in the closet.
Argyle: We accept you Steve. <3
Steve: No I'm literally in the closet.
Argyle: Love is love. <3
cw: vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, an attempted sacrifice of the reader, non-human genetalia, getting lost in the woods, a monster in heat
male monster x fem reader
Word count: 9k
“You can’t do this to me!” you screamed, knowing it was pointless but too full of anger to care.
“I’m sorry, my dear, it has to be done.” The people you used to call friends tightened your bindings as you struggled and thrashed against them, refusing to go down without a fight.
“It doesn’t!” you protested, unable to understand how they could be alright with doing this. “We can fight or move or anything, I don’t know, anything but this!”
It was futile. As they hurried away, eager to get far away from you and forget about your cries of protest, you wondered how long ago they’d decided on this. When had they decided that you were the one they would sacrifice.
In all honesty, it had probably been a long time ago. It was probably because of exactly this kind of behavior, you absolutely refusing to let this go on. You’d never been alright with any of this, with how they sent people into the forest to die in an attempt to save their own hides. If you’d kept your head down 5 years ago, the last time they’d tried this, odds were you’d be safe at home right now but you hadn’t. You hadn’t been able to stomach it, wracked with grief until you could stand it no longer.
In the middle of the night, praying you were not too late, you ran to this exact stone and removed the restraints, telling the poor girl a few years older than you were now to run to a nearby village and never turn back. They probably wouldn’t even have noticed you’d freed her if they hadn’t caught you on your way back. It didn’t take long to piece it together, your guilty face running from those woods. You’d been kept on a tight leash since then.
For every person that died in those 5 years, every single one, the blame was placed squarely on your back. “Was it worth it?“ they’d ask, “All these souls for one person?”
You said yes every time.
Afficher davantage
Dungeon Master Eddie Munson STRANGER THINGS (SEASON 4) Chapter One: The Hellfire Club
Old monk maz koshia animation I made
can you make a lo’ak imagine where its first set when they were kids (like in the flashback scene of awotw) and the reader lives in the lab along with spider, and the people at the lab gave the reader a trampoline to play on, so one day lo’ak and neteyam see the reader jumping on it and lo’ak thinks it looks super fun (and the reader looks pretty) so the next day he comes by and asks to use the trampoline except he has no idea what it’s actually called, but in the end they become super good friends 👍👍
pairing : lo’ak x reader !
a/n : yes bro i got you. this was so fun to write. lmk if you wanna be added to be taglist :
@nyotamalfoy @victoirey @itssiaaax @grierpilots
“Bro, remember when we first met?” Lo’ak asked randomly, nudging you.
You looked up and closed your eyes, recollecting the distant memory you had back when you and him were younger.
You then smiled and opened your eyes to look at him.
“How could I forget?”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
You were jumping on your trampoline that Norm gave you for your twelfth birthday, doing mini flips and tricks. You wished that Spider were here, or anyone, honestly, to watch you.
Unbeknownst to you, two Na’vi brothers were watching you from afar.
“What is she doing?” Neteyam whispered to Lo’ak. his eyes glued on your figure.
“That must be some ‘Sky People’ tech,” Lo’ak paused, then muttered, “she’s pretty.”
Neteyam slowly turned to look at his brother with a shocked expression caused from his words. His brother? Having a crush on one of the Sky People? How could this be?
“Brother, that is a human!” Neteyam spoke, a little too loud.
“Shh, you’ll blow our cover!” Lo’ak shushed him quickly, cringing a bit at the thought of being caught.
You continued to bounce, completely oblivious to the scene happening right in front of you. Neteyam covered his mouth quickly, but then eventually spoke again.
“How are you going to approach her?” Neteyam asked curiously.
An invisible lightbulb appeared over Lo’ak’s head, “I have a plan.”
Later that day, you were face to face by a Na’vi male, about the same age as you, with another boy standing behind him. By the similarities in appearance, you assumed that they were brothers.
Nonetheless, you were shaking in fear, tears nearly spilling out of your eyes. You heard stories about the Na’vi, both good and bad. You didn’t, however, expect them to be this tall.
They were towering over you.
“Don’t… don’t hurt me.” You tried desperately to sound tough, yet fear was the only thing evident in your voice.
A twinge of guilt struck at Lo’ak’s young heart before he gulped, almost not knowing what to say. He felt bad for you — you look like you had just seen a ghost.
“We are not going to hurt you,” Neteyam spoke up, “we are friendly!”
You gasped, your mood switching in a heartbeat.
“You speak English!” You said, fascinated. Your eyes were practically sparkling.
Neteyam nodded, excitedly, “My brother came to ask you something.” He nudged his younger brother towards you, Lo’ak stumbling a bit before regaining his balance.
He shot a glare at Neteyam then crouched down to match your height, quickly planning what to say in his head.
Before he could speak, you gasped again, moving closer to him. You noticed the little white dots displayed across his face down to his torso.
“They’re so pretty..” you mumbled, instinctively reaching out to touch them. You ran your fingers across the pattern, your eyes wide in awe.
Fascinated to say the least, you squinted your eyes, pressing on one of the dots then looking at your finger to check if it left a mark. You were distracted, almost forgetting that you were in the middle of a conversation.
Lo’ak, scared to move under your touch, cleared his throat. You quickly took your hands off him, placing your arms behind your back. He was still blushing from your previous actions, but quickly collected himself.
“I… think you’re pretty too,” he pulled a bracelet out of his pouch before handing it to you.
You gently took the bracelet, automatically putting it around your wrist. You examined it carefully. It was made out of woven leather, with pebbles from nearby lakes attached to the material.
Squealing in excitement, you twisted your wrist around to show off your new jewelry.
You then hugged Lo’ak tightly before silently thanking him with a blush on both of your faces.
Once you pulled away, you two shared a smile. It was then he remembered what him and his brother were here for.
“Can I…” he trailed off, realizing that he had no idea what that thing was. You looked at him, confused.
He gave up on trying to find the right words, and simply pointed to the trampoline. You slowly looked toward the direction he pointed to, realization striking you.
“Do you want to play?” You asked, hopefully.
Lo’ak and Neteyam both nodded at the same time, making you giggle.
Next thing you knew, all three of you were bouncing on the trampoline.
“I can touch the sky, look!” Lo’ak exclaimed before bouncing and reaching upward.
You smiled for the tenth time that day, happy that you found new friends to play with.
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“You know, now that I think about it,” you looked at Lo’ak, only now realizing how much the two of you had grown since then, “we wouldn’t have met without that trampoline.”
He nodded in agreement, then turned to face you, holding eye contact. You two sat in silence, just looking at each other. You loved this. You loved that you two could stay quiet without it being awkward. You were the most comfortable when you were with him, as he was with you.
“I still think you’re pretty,” he whispered, breaking the silence.
You smiled at his words. He had no idea how much he meant to you.
“I think you’re pretty too,” you said as you brought your hand up to caress his face gently. The action was incredibly intimate, especially for a pair of best friends.
But something, only Eywa knows what, told you that you both wanted to be more than that.
So you continued to caress his face, studying the pattern of white freckles you’ve known like the back of your hand by now. His cheek was slightly grazed by the pebble attached to the woven bracelet on your wrist — the same one you’ve kept since your twelfth birthday.