#and jonathan with his 'it's true. all true' because he knows about the feelings of these two

[fangirl-rose1029]

Bookworm & the Prince

Pairing: Fiyero x neutral!Reader

A/N’s: After seeing Wicked. Fiyero aka Mr. Jonathan Bailey has been living rent free in my mind 🫠 This is my first time ever posting any of my writing on tumblr that is. I’ve written before on FanFiction but it’s been awhile. Please let me know what you think!

Summary: Reader enjoys spending their time in the library, Fiyero tries to make things more fun and interesting but it ends up backfiring on him.

Warnings: None really. Just fluff and a lot of flirting/teasing.

The Shiz University library was usually a quiet sanctuary for Y/N. It was their refuge from distractions, filled with books that demanded attention instead of loud voices and obnoxious flirting. Unfortunately, distractions had a way of finding you— particularly when they had a royal title and a smirk that refused to quit.

You needed one more book for your paper on ancient magic, but of course, the one you needed was on the highest shelf. You stood on your tiptoe, reaching as high as you could, but the book was just out of your grasp.

“Need a hand?”

You turned to see none other than Prince Fiyero leaning casually against one of the bookshelves, watching you with an amused expression. His signature grin was already in place and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

You sighed and let your arm drop, not bothering to turn around. “I’m fine, Fiyero.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Fiyero said, appearing at your side. He glanced at the book you were trying to reach and grinned. “You know bookworm, you could just admit you need. I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Because your ego isn’t inflated enough already?” You shot back, still refusing to look at him.

Fiyero chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Before you could protest, he reached up and plucked the book from the shelf with ease. But instead of handing it to you, he brought it behind his back, leaning casually against the shelf with one hand holding the book out of sight.

You narrowed your eyes, turning to face him fully, “Really?”

“Really,” he said, his grin widening. “This is way more fun than just giving it to you.”

You stepped closer, reaching for the book, but Fiyero moved quickly. Using his free hand, he gently but firmly pressed his palm against your shoulder, holding you back just enough to stop you.

“Ah ah,” he teased, shaking his head. “That’s cheating.”

“You are insufferable,” you said, your voice flat, though the spark of amusement in your eyes betrayed your true feelings.

“I’ve been called worse,” he quipped.

You huffed and tried to dart around him, but Fiyero shifted, keeping the book firmly behind his back and blocking her with his body. His other hand lifted to stop you again, hovering near your arm.

“Fiyero,” you warned, stepping closer, “you’re going to regret this.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” he said smoothly, his eyes locking with yours. “You’re going to have to do better than that if you want this.”

You paused, tilting her head and regarding him for a long moment. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you reached behind him, your fingers brushing his as you tried to snatch the book.

Fiyero laughed stepping back and raising the book high above his head, well out of your reach, “Nice try.”

“You’re such a child,” you said, glaring at him.

“Come on, bookworm, play along,” he said, his voice smooth and teasing. “You spend all your time buried in books. Don’t you want a little fun?”

You rolled your eyes, “What’s fun about this, Fiyero?”

“Everything,” he said with a wink.

You narrowed your eyes, then tilted your head slightly, a smile playing at your lips. “Oh, I see. You think you’ve got the upper hand, don’t you?”

“I know do,” he smugly.

Your smile widened, and you stepped closer, your voice dropping into something softer, more playful. “Well, then I guess I’ll just have to convince you to give it to me.”

Fiyero blinked, caught off guard by the shift in demeanor. “Convince me, huh? I’d love to see you try.”

You moved even closer, until there was barely a breath of space between them. Her gaze locked on his, her voice low and teasing.

“Do you really want to play this game, Fiyero? Because I don’t think you’re ready for me.”

For the first time, his grin faltered, replace by a flicker of uncertainty. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and he leaned down slightly, meeting her challenge. “Oh, I’m ready love.”

You smirked, your fingers brushing his arms as you leaned just enough to peek behind his back, pretending to make a grab for the book. “Are you sure about that? Because you seem a little distracted.”

Fiyero’s laugh was nervous but amused as he shifted the book to his other hand and lifted it high above his head. “Nice try.”

You laughed softly, your tone still playful. “I don’t know, Fiyero. You look like you’re struggling to keep up.”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” he said, lifting the book even higher,

You raised your eyebrow, stepping even closer, your hand trailing lightly up his arm. “You are so confident,” you murmured, your voice sweet. “But confidence can be dangerous, you know.”

Fiyero’s breath hitched slightly, and his eyes flickered to your hand before darting back to your face. “Dangerous, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” you said, your lips curving into a slow smile. “It makes you underestimate your opponent.”

Your hand brushed lightly against his wrist, and for a moment, he hesitated. You used that hesitation to slide your fingers towards the book, but he caught on at the last second, pulling it back with a triumphant laugh. “Not bad,” he admitted, stepping back, his grin returning. “But not good enough.”

You let out a mock sigh, tapping your chin as if in deep thought. Then you stepped closer again, your tone dropping to a whisper. “You know Fiyero, I could make this worth your while.”

His eyebrows shot up, his grin faltering again. “Worth my while?”

You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with amusement. “You did say you wanted to have fun, didn’t you? Maybe we could…negotiate.”

Fiyero blinked, clearly unsure if she was serious. “Negotiate?”

You nodded, stepping even closer until they were almost chest to chest. Your fingers brushed his other hand lightly, drawing his attention just long enough for you to dart your other hand toward the book. You grabbed it, but his grip tightened before you could pull it away.

“Oh no,” he said, his grin returning as he leaned down, his voice low. “You’re not getting it that easily.”

Your smirk widened, your fingers curling more tightly around the book. Your other hand placed on Fiyero’s chest as you leaned in, your faces now inches apart.

“Who said anything about easy?” You said, in a low teasing tone.

Fiyero’s gaze flicked to your lips for a fraction of a second, and in that moment, his grip slackened just enough. You yanked the book free, taking a quick step back with a triumphant laugh.

“Gotcha,” you said, holding the book up like a trophy.

Fiyero stared at you, stunned for a moment, before letting out a low chuckle. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

You shrugged, your smile innocent. “You’re the one who started it,”

He shook his head, a crooked grin on his face.

“Fine, you win this round. But don’t think I’m letting you off so easily next time.”

You turned, walking back to your table with the book in hand. “We’ll see about that, Prince Charming.”

As you sat down, Fiyero call after you, “Admit it, you had fun!”

You didn’t answer, but the sly smile on your face said everything he needed to know.

[h3arts4stars]

Yall i need to share something I’ve been on for a while

I fear that mileven being canon would completely ruin mikes character for me

Let me explain

First of all, let’s start with the rain fight- as soon as Will brings up eleven- mike retorts with “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

Now let’s look at this From a Byler perspective-

Mike is projecting onto will- he doesn’t know Will is gay. For Mike this means “it’s your fault I don’t like girls” or “it’s my fault I don’t like girls” this makes Mike a bit more innocent in the matter- he’s not meaning to upset Will but we know Mike has trouble with expressing emotions and doesn’t think before he speaks

But in a mileven perspective: he still doesn’t know Will is gay- but he’s implying it in a disrespectful manner- he’s insulting his best friend since kindergarten for a girl that he’s only known for the past 3 years. When back in season one- If another member of the party would do this to Will back then- Mike would throw hands- so what’s changed?

Easy Mike has figured out his feelings for Will and can’t except it.

Now let’s look at the roller rink fight- and the roller rink part in general:

Byler perspective: Mike is upset at Will for not talking to HIM specifically- in the part where Will says “what about us?” And Mike responds with “we’re friends! We are friends” no one ever said you weren’t, Micheal.. Mike has NO reason to bring this up- there is no way if he doesn’t know Will is gay that he’d think Will would be implying something like that- even in the painting scene Mike seems upset that wills painting is for someone other then him- he’s jealous and confused and is taking it out on Will.

Mileven perspective: Mike is just being straight up mean in this scene- just nitpicking wills actions and not focusing on finding his girlfriend- Byler not being canon makes Mikes actions in the last too seasons even more upsetting- this ruins mikes character and makes him out to be a awful friend.

Then we have the “love” confession scene

Reminder- El is DYING in this scene- she’s choking and Mike knows this. He knows what he needs to say but utterly refuses to say it. Why can’t he? What’s so wrong with saying he loves his partner? Mike can’t say it because he doesn’t actually love her. But he’s scared of that- cause he needs to be depended on. But then will urges him on- which gives Mike the confidence. But why? If Jonathan had said it would Mike still react? No. Because Will is his bestfriend who he’s been shown to do anything for- even bike all the way across town in the pouring rain- just to apologize too when he easily could have called him. Remember Mike isn’t that athletic- he’s the least athletic of the party. But still biked super fast like he felt will would leave him.

Mike is confusing his platonic feelings for el for romantic cause he wants to be normal- but if he really is in love with her- he’s a horrible boyfriend that almost got her killed because he was too scared to say a simple 3 words.

He also states his life started the day he found her- you mean the day Will went missing?? If his confession is his true words- hes again an awful friend and person

Reminder- the duffers don’t believe in love at first sight- which is what they’re implying mileven to be- they’re also star crossed lovers which basically means doomed lovers.

Sorry this analysis was all over the place but what do we think??

[stranger-chichka]

Does it… ring any bells?

He’s the one who catches up everything D&D related:

+ he sings “Never Ending Story” which is also the title of the book.

[puttingwingsonwords]

I do think the ‘comedy’ of Dracula in this part of the story only adds to the horror. Like we can all go ‘haha lizard fashion’ because it is ridiculous, he’s crawling barefoot on that wall like 🦎

But also fucking imagine a whole ass man skittering down a wall like that, the fact that his cloak is billowing like wings means he must be going fast too bc otherwise it would just fall over his head. (Or idk maybe he is using magic powers to make his cloak look cooler who knows.)

And it’s in his pretending to have servants too, I know, my most popular post rn is calling him a loser for it which he is!! He’s probably really embarrassed about it too bc it’s demeaning for a boyar to do those chores!

But Jonathan doesn’t have the luxury of laughing at this stuff.

One thing that really caught my attention this time is the uncanny valley of it all. From the moment Jonathan meets the Count, he can tell something is off. No matter how thickly he puts on the charm, Dracula can’t hide the fact that he’s not human; he’s something else, a ‘creature in the semblance of a man’, there’s something innately off-putting about his presence. His eyes, his teeth, his hands, his smell: he has the aura of a predator and Jonathan, his prey, can feel it.

From Jonathan’s point of view, every hilarious weird thing the Count does is another sign of him being Not Human, as well as the fact that he’s in total control—as his ruse of normality is slowly falling apart, but there’s still nothing Jonathan can do. The mask is slipping, the Count is revealing his true nature—whether accidentally or on purpose—and Jonathan can only watch and keep pretending in the hope that it will prolong his life.

[willbyersabyss]

So what are Will's flaws?

Is Will totally perfect in every way? Is he a jealous saboteur? Or a secret third option... neither. Let's discuss Will's flaws and nuances!

1. Emotional suppression

Will avoids his problems. He hates talking about both his emotional and physical danger because he doesn't want to be treated differently. From a young age, he was taught by Lonnie that he shouldn't express his emotions because that makes him "sensitive" and "weak." So now he likes to hide.

This emotional suppression causes his feelings to worsen over time. Once he finally lets it out, he explodes. Instead of healthy conversations, he says and does things that he'll probably regret later. He blows up at Mike, he yells at Jonathan, he destroys Castle Byers, he shows his hand (what about us?)

Will's avoidance doesn't only have consequences on him, but others. If he had told someone he was feeling the Mind Flayer earlier, they might've been able to save some of the Flayed. But he couldn't tell someone because that puts him in a place of emotional vulnerability. That's exactly why he waited until after he fought with the boys to mention the supernatural. He traded one vulnerable situation for another, allowing him to avoid opening up about his true feelings. It was a distraction.

This also doesn't let others to heal from their altercations. Both Lucas and Mike try to apologize to Will, but he brushes them off. Will thinks he doesn't deserve consideration. The walls he puts up forces others to hold onto their own guilt, leaving a sore spot in their relationship. We can see this soreness in Will and Mike's relationship in s4. They never healed from the rain fight. Well... not that Mike tried to apologize after the Mind Flayer debacle. Again, distraction on Will's part.

Will’s inability to handle change is also due to him bottling up his feelings. His trauma and suppression makes him stuck in the past. He doesn’t let himself move through each day where these emotions would be felt.

It's interesting how Will is deemed the emotional one when his sensitivity is actually a result of him keeping his emotions in. Once that dam is opened, it's hard for him to stop. He breaks, just as he fears.

2. Self-hatred

And all that emotional suppression leads to Will internalizing other people's view of him. Will's self-hatred stems from bullying and his father's abuse. He thinks he's to blame, that he's a mistake. As more people distance themselves from Will, he believes there's something wrong with him.

When he thinks he deserves mistreatment, his relationships crumble more. They're unable to reconcile. True forgiveness can't be achieved if he doesn't think he should be apologized to in the first place.

Will's hatred is the reason why he tried to sacrifice himself in s2 to save his friends. He doesn't think he deserves to be saved. This makes him an easy target for Vecna. It's very likely that Will's self-hatred will factor into his upcoming supernatural plot.

The more Will hates himself, the more he hides, the more he suppresses his emotions.

3. People pleaser

If Will is anything, he's a people pleaser. He's selfless. So much so that this is the first thing we find out about him. While admirable, it actually leads to more bad than good. His people pleasing tendency goes hand in hand with his emotional suppression. Will doesn't like to take up space and inconvenience other people.

Will's never ending effort to please others leads to him making assumptions. Wrong assumptions. Whether it be letting Max join them on Halloween or pushing Mike to give a love confession, Will tries his best to use his mediator role to give people what they want.

But he doesn't know what they want, does he? Will wanted to make Dustin and Lucas happy, but this created a rift with Mike. He thought Mike was itching to profess his love for El, but that wasn’t what either of them needed. In an attempt to help, he's making it worse.

He must be successful sometimes, though, because there's an expectation from his friends that he'll fulfill their needs at the flick of a wand. This vacancy from Will makes him a pushover. They think they can make fun of him and he'll just take it because that's what he does. When Will finally stands up for himself, they're shocked. That's out of character for him. It's like they want to say: “Why isn't he letting us be mean to him? :(”

Mike even expected Will to tell him that his own girlfriend was being bullied. Will's people pleasing explodes in his face. So now when he's unable to read their needs and fix it for them, he's to blame. Will takes on the weight of their problems too much. While it's good that they rely on him, there shouldn't be pressure for him to judge their every whim. But it's not exactly their fault because Will set the stage for this behavior.

Weirdly, Will's need to please others is the reason why he didn't call Mike. He thought Mike wanted nothing to do with him, so he didn't reach out. There he goes assuming things again! But Will was there, waiting for the rare occasion where Mike did want him. He went so far right that he ended up left.

Will's behavior towards El is also an instance of wrong assumptions. Will didn't like being treated differently in s2, so he assumed El would feel the same way. He used his own experiences to inform how he should treat others. Babying El would make her feel more ostracized. Instead, he offered emotional comfort, similar to the comfort he received, after the bullying. This doesn't really help her because she doesn't have the same emotional mechanics as Will.

So Will assumes things, pushes his own wants down, and lets people walk all over him all in the name of being pleasant.

4. Freeze, fly, fight. In that order!

When Will is scared, he freezes. This flaw is so significant that they talked about it textually multiple times. I'm not sure I would consider it a flaw since it has saved him more than it's harmed him, though.

The few times Will has decided to fight instead of freeze, he was kidnapped and possessed. Confrontation isn't an option for him. His body believes he'll be put directly in danger if he does anything but freeze/fly. Fight is only used as a last resort.

It only really enters flaw territory when it's an inconvenience. He froze during the sauna test, when El was being bullied, and when he should've shot the creature in the shed. Will is unable to help himself and others when he's scared.

When he snaps out of it, he cries and feels guilty for being so hesitant. He wishes he could do more but he can't. This wraps back around to his self-hatred.

5. Jealousy

When his best friend of 10 years that he's in love with starts to ditch him for some random girl, it's not shocking that there would be some jealousy! Will is the silent jealous type. His jealousy doesn't really manifest into resentment or outward action against the other person. Unlike a certain someone...

Will only shows it through rolling eyes, a snarky comment here or there, or an outburst at his most emotionally vulnerable. I mean, if Will really wanted to see El crash and burn, he could've kept his mouth shut the entire Rink-O-Mania day. Or he could've ignored her in the courtyard as she picks up the pieces of her project. But he didn't.

The worst we've seen Will's jealousy was during the rain fight. He called El stupid. There's no beating around the bush, he was in the wrong for that. But this came out of Will because his emotions were at an all time high. Why? Emotional suppression!

A lot of Will's snarky comments towards El are out of genuine confusion. He doesn't understand how El can have exactly what he wants, but she's willing to ruin it by lying. Unfortunately, he later learns that exact lesson. He's envious that she can do what Mike hates without major repercussions, while he's somehow blamed for her lies. And why does he get blamed? People pleaser expectations!

Will waited until a quiet moment to inform El of her mistakes. Will's goal isn't to humiliate El. He doesn't let his jealousy lead to resentment. Instead, he tried to (snarkily) lead her to make better decisions because it's not fair! It's not fair that she can have it all without working for it!

And now we're back at self-hatred. Some of his jealous moments make it bubble back up. He bends his painting, something he put his blood, sweat, and tears into, because he isn't enough for them. Their ideal day is without him. Will's art is an extension of himself. He's aiming his anger back at himself by hurting his art.

All of his flaws connect back to his low self-esteem in some way. This is why it's important for Will to receive and accept love in his life. A big part of his arc is self acceptance.

So there it is in all its glory! All of Will's main flaws in one post. What did we learn? Will suppresses his emotions, hates himself, pleases others to a fault, freezes, and is green with envy. And he wouldn't be Will without 'em!

[dmitriene]

john price didn't intend to be someone's sugar daddy, not knowing that well what it means, and not even planning to join a relationship — yet, that's till he meet you on a dating app his lads almost begged him to install.

or they even installed it themselves, taking his phone while they were off in some country pub, and it wouldn't hurt to open it at least once, price thought.

indeed, it wouldn't, because that's how he found you — the sweetest, soft thing his eyes ever fell upon and seen, reminiscent so much of all the images and scenarios he often dreamed about, but always pushed further away.

john thought you looked like a proper sunshine itself, well mannered darling with toothy smiles and small, yet so sweet description of yourself, and this is the first situation in his life in which he did not think twice, before deciding to write to you straight away.

he's an old man, price is a captain inside and out, with warm heart and sincere smiles, yet bloody hands and fucked up head — he's seen everything, experienced everything, which made him the jonathan price he is right now, and still, it didn't pushed you away a tad bit.

all the time you were such a sweetheart, from the text's in the app and down the road to the first meeting, and if john didn't experience falling in love before — that was it.

it started by itself, after the first meeting there was another, with each of them you became closer and closer not only mentally, but also physically, and against the background of falling in love with you, there's responsibility that began to shallow.

john wanted to pamper you — pay for your lunches together at every meeting, then for your grocery's delivery, then it moved to fixing some little financial issues you had or even buying you something you couldn't afford right now, all of this was just for you, and you hadn't to do anything to receive it.

he had a good amount of money, the one he didn't exactly know where to spend, but there's you — you help john relax on hard days, take care of his health, comfort him when things don't go as they should, and wait for every new message from him while he's away on another mission.

shouldn't he repay to you for being his little pocket sunshine?

his, he always thinks and says, yet you don't exactly belong to him, you never talked about what exactly are you two — friends, lovers, or something else, because price never voiced his feelings and never crossed any possible boundaries, until you did it first.

a little kiss on the stubbled cheek to thank him for buying you some silly things you wanted so much recently, a warm hug against his bulky body, an innocent act of holding hands.

before it turns into messy tongue kisses, squeezing grasps of calloused palms, itchy mustache rubbing against soft flesh of your neck, sucking blooming marks to form a patch down your shoulders and to your cleavage, kissing, biting, moving away unnecessary clothing that gets into john's way.

you became his entirely, body and soul, with buzzing warmth inside your stomach and pleasurable soreness between your doughy thighs, with red marks both from price's fingers and beard, while waking up huddled under his heavy arm and under cool, silky sheets of his spacious bed.

john price fell in love with you completely and irrevocably, just as you in him — welcoming him home each time with soft touches and featherlight kisses, freshly cooked meal and tidy environment, light giggles and sincere words of love and adoration.

a dream come true, a place for him to return to, with light walls that hold only precious memories, with your gasping mewls that reverberate here at night.

from his grounding touches, soft roll of his broad hips when he nestles against your back at nights and curl his hands over the curve of your waist, hoisting your leg to probe against your sopping warmth, burrowing inside your gummy walls softly as john nuzzles his face against your shoulder blades.

price adores you, without planning it all in the first place, but now he is sure that he would not have refused to meet you in any of the circumstances.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3.

[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

Not that these words mean anything, but I'm always and forever obsessed with the fact that Jonathan Halker is so abnormal + yet also so normal. If his situation had not become abnormal he would have just presented as normal his entire life and no one would ever know any different. This is a little bit true of Mina but also I feel like she's a little bit more striking off the bat + she'll special interest info dump & things that would make her stand out a smidge more than Jonathan. But like. In the novel Middlemarch, which is an incredibly underrated 19th century novel, George Eliot in general is incredibly underrated- she makes the point that some souls who in another time would have been iconic medieval saints/mystics/epic hearts, are born in pastoral 19th century England, and as a result, all of that passion and love that might have made them distinguished in another time period just sort of lies dormant because there's nowhere for it to go. That's how I feel about Johnathan. Like if he didn't go to Transylvania he literally would have just been a lawyer. He would be the same holiest love kind of man. The same man who scaled the walls of that Castle twice and pulled himself back from the edge of total insanity. He would have been that Jonathan. But instead of doing all that he would have just worked his job and raised his family and died. And he would have been very happy doing that. But no one would have known, least of all Jonathan that he had it in him. Do you understand me??? He would have just been normal.

[themultifanshipper]

So I read the your story about Logan, George, Max and paddock bunny reader. It was fucking amazing.

Could I maybe request a fluff one where some random man is very sexist and mean towards her. The drivers see it and become kind of protective. When she wants to reward them with sex, they are being like : No honey. You just rest and look pretty while we murder this idiot☺️👍

But please don't feel pressured to write it if you don't feel comfortable

You should have known as soon as the journalist approached you that this wouldn't end well.

“Would you mind answering a couple of questions, miss?”

You naively said yes, not expecting the line of questioning that was about to come.

Part 3 of One of the Boys

Warnings: a smidge of angst, lots of fluff, drivers being protective, a lil smut at the end but it's skippable, i've put a *** where it starts, dirty talk, sleepy sex, smut with Oscar and Lando, mentioned smut with Charles, Max and George just being good friends

“Care to comment on the rumour that you are in the paddock as a sexual companion for the drivers to use to relieve stress?”

Your breath got caught in your throat.

“Excuse me?”

The man cleared his throat and continued.

“Sources say you have slept with multiple drivers, is it because you have some sort of agreement or contract? Or are you just that promiscuous?”

You stared at him open mouthed, not knowing what to say.

“Or are you perhaps doing it for money? Do you have a sugar daddy in the paddock? Do you limit yourself to drivers or do you also let team officials have a go at you?”

What the fuck.

Tears prickled your eyes at the onslaught of invasive questions as rage filled you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? What gives you the right to ask about my sex life?! What I do in my free time is none of your fucking business, and for your information, I do not receive money from any member of the paddock, and I am NOT just a toy to use for men whenever they feel like! Just because I'm a woman you assume I have an ulterior motive for being here but-”

Your voice was getting louder as each word left your lips and the shouting attracted the attention of George and Max that were passing nearby.

“What's going on here?” Max asked the man as George noticed a tear run down your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You wiped at it furiously and nodded “Yeah I'm fine!”

Max stared daggers between you and the man “What the fuck did you say to her?”

The man rolled his eyes dismissively.

“I wanted to know if the rumours of her being the paddock's whore were true… I guess I have my answer”

The sudden urge to swing at him almost overtook Max but he held himself in check. George put arm around you and lead you away, managing to spit out a ‘go fuck yourself’ to the man.

Max ripped the man's lanyard off and checked the name on it.

“Well done, Jonathan, you've successfully managed to get yourself banned from ever coming to a race again, good luck salvaging your career after I'm done making sure you never work in sports journalism ever again”

He stormed off straight towards the offices, ready to bribe the entire FIA top brass if it meant protecting you from ever living through that again.

You and George made your way through the paddock and ran into Oscar on the way, who noticed your distress immediately.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Another tear ran down your cheek as you all but threw your arms around him and squeezed him, tears dampening his team polo.

He widened his eyes at George in question, who ran a hand up and down your back soothingly.

“Some dickhead journalist was being a cunt and calling her the paddock whore. Max is sorting it”

“Shit, I'm so sorry baby. That shouldn't have happened”

George hummed in agreement. “One thing's for sure, it won't happen again if Max has anything to say about it”

You sniffled and let Oscar go, straightening yourself out before the next session as the other drivers had to go and get ready.

Qualifying was nerve wracking. It was Monza after all.

Oscar made you stay in the McLaren garage to stop any unwanted attention falling on you.

Him and George came to find you after, at least one of them staying by your side at all times like guard dogs until it was time to go.

You were still a bit shaky as you spotted Max waiting for you by the entrance.

“I've sorted it. That guy won't be coming anywhere near the paddock for at least 5 years, and I've sent a request for a GDPA meeting to discuss the need for extra security for drivers and their guests”

George made an impressed face and Oscar hummed.

“I don't know how to repay you guys for today” you fiddled with the hem of your top as your eyes shifted from one driver to the other until they landed on Max “At least let me do something for you”

Your hand went to Max's chest but he took it and squeezed.

“Absolutely not. That would be taking advantage of you and I refuse to prove that asshole right”

The other two readily agreed.

“You're free to stay in any of our hotel rooms if it will make you feel better, but we’re your friends and our priority is keeping you safe”

You started getting emotional again as you hugged them before swearing you'd be fine on your own and going your separate ways.

You once again ended up staying in the same hotel as the McLaren drivers.

And as you unwinded after your day you started getting a bit stressed out at the idea of something like this happening at every race and before you knew it you found yourself in front of Oscar's hotel room, on the verge of an anxiety attack.

It wasn't Oscar that opened the door however, it was Lando. And he was shirtless.

You stared at him as you tried to collect your thoughts.

“Hey baby, you okay? Oscar told me what happened earlier”

You surged forwards and hugged him, making the man stumble a bit.

He wrapped his arms around you protectively and squeezed while you inhaled the comforting scent of his cologne.

Oscar, wondering who was at the door, came to investigate and awed at the sight of you two cuddling in the doorway.

You looked at him only in his boxers, and were suddenly hit with the realisation.

“Wait, shit. Were you about to fuck before I knocked?”

Oscar laughed and patted you on the back. “Don't worry about us baby, if you need company we're always available for you”

You had to hold back tears as you asked to take a shower, which you did, before climbing into bed in a borrowed shirt, the other two climbing in either side of you.

Oscar turned the light off and you snuggled up to him.

As your beathing synced up with his, your hand wandered over his chest. “You sure you don't want a quick blowjob?”

He snorted and slapped your hand away as Lando cackled behind you. “Absolutely not! Go to sleep and we'll see what happens tomorrow, I'd rather earn it by beating the others on track”

He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before wrapping arm around you.

You fell asleep like that, Oscar drawing patterns on your arm and Lando snoring softly behind you.

***

You woke the next morning completely tangled with another body.

Turns out it was Lando's, and he was shifting around, letting out soft puffs of breath against your forehead.

And you couldn't blame him, you were almost panting yourself, both at how hot you were because of you being plastered against his body, and at the fact that his thigh was between yours and rubbing against your clothed pussy with all his shifting around.

You moaned softly and that seemed to wake him up with a start, eyes darting around until they focused on your face and he realised what was happening.

His hard cock was rutting against your hip and he shuddered when your hand went down to palm him through his boxers.

“Fuck baby, I hope you're feeling as needy as I am right now”

You giggled into his shoulder and nodded, hand slipping into his boxers to thumb at his wet tip.

He quickly stopped you, lest he come too quickly and kissed your forehead before trailing your own hand down your body.

“Touch yourself” he whispered “tell me how wet you are for me”

You slid a finger through your folds and your suspicions were confirmed as it almost slipped right in with how slick you were.

“So fucking wet, Lan” you whispered back, you didn't know if Oscar was still sleeping behind you but you didn't care.

“Shit you're right” Lando’s finger had joined yours “I could slip right in. Can I?”

You nodded and he lazily slid your slick panties out of the way and rubbed himself through your folds a couple of times before pushing in.

It was a tight fit, but he was right, he slid inside with no resistance and he groaned and bottomed out.

“Fuck. Shit. Hell, I'm not going to last long, baby” his voice was tight as he started rocking his hips gently.

You just got wetter as he went deeper and deeper, hooking your leg over his hip to drive into you with more force.

You bit into his shoulder to try and keep your noises at bay but it was useless when Lando used you to chase his pleasure and it didn't take long for him to start whimpering into your skin.

“Can I come inside you, baby, please?”

“Of course, Lan. Come for me, good boy...”

“Fuck” his hips slammed against yours twice more as he filled you up.

You quickly ripped the covers off you and breathed a sigh of relief as the slightly cooler air of sunny Monza hit your over heated skin.

He kissed you sweetly and it almost escalated into more but you heard a chuckle behind you.

Your two heads snapped to Oscar.

The fucker was laying on his side, head propped on his hand as he watched you with a smile.

“Well that was quick” he teased, eyes full of mirth “I'm glad you interrupted us last night if that's the performance I was going to get”

You giggled and Lando huffed “Oh fuck off. If you felt how fucking sweet her pussy is you wouldn’t have lasted either”

“Challenge accepted” Oscar said with glee as he slid towards you and leaned against your back.

“You can go shower while I take care of her” he unhooked your leg from Lando's waist and lifted it as he lined himself up and pushed into you slowly.

Your eyes rolled back at the stretch (because Oscar was slightly thicker than Lando) and the change of angle which made him grind into your g-spot dead on.

Lando rolled his own eyes, crawling out of bed to go and shower, grumbling on the way.

“That's not fair, you've got the better angle you bastard…”

Oscar chuckled and thrusted into you harder, ripping a moan from your throat.

You were about to move to get on top of him but Oscar held you firmly in place.

“No baby, let me do all the work”

He rolled over you and pressed your body into the mattress, his weight comforting on top of you as he jackhammered his hips into you at the perfect angle to make you see stars.

One of his hands squeezed itself in-between your body and the mattress to find your puffy cunt and rubbed calculated circles on your clit.

You came so hard you almost blacked out and you started begging for him to come inside you, knowing that always made him weak in the knees.

“Please Osc, fill me up with your come, make me carry a part of you inside me while you race”

Oscar let out a punched out moan and there's nothing he could do to stop it as he did just that, pumping you full to the brim with his cum as he growled into your shoulder, teeth probably leaving indents on your skin.

Once his brain had stopped melting he landed a sharp slap to your ass.

“That wasn't part of my plan. Fucking witch.”

You laughed as he got off you to go join Lando in the bathroom.

“I know my way around my boys' kinks, what can I say?” you laughed as he flipped you off.

“Yeah, yeah. I want a rematch, tonight if I win. I'm not stopping until you're crying”

Fat chance, you thought.

You giggled and got up to follow him in, also desperately needing a shower.

Well, he didn't win, so you didn't get to see him that evening (though your celebrations weren't anything less than extraordinary, after all, it wasn’t every day that Il Predestinato won at Ferrari's home race).

What you did get however, was a video the next day.

As you lay in bed with Charles, you clicked on the icon curiously and almost spit out the coffee he’d gone and bought in an attempt to nurse your hangovers.

It was from Oscar's point of view, fucking Lando missionary, and the older man was covered, and I mean covered, in what you assumed was his own cum. He was whimpering as Oscar fisted his cock in time with his hips' movements.

“See? I told you I could last longer. Made him come so many times he can't even speak” Oscar growled into the microphone

You (and a curious Charles) watched in silent horror as Lando came again with a sob, completely dry.

It was an unhinged thought, but you secretly hoped Oscar would win the next race, and every single race until the end of time.

[love-byers]

the first time i saw this, when i was NOT a byler shipper, i thought el was running TO mike. i thought we were getting a sweet moment where el runs to mike and he puts an arm around her or hugs her.

then i realized she was running away from him. 

and i was like, why?? they're supposed to be the couple why does she not want his comfort??

and even after will calls her out on doing mike wrong by lying to him, even after she sees that mike is attempting to talk to her and comfort her, that he's not angry at her, she still tells angela to lie to mike. more lies. that's how much she cares about keeping up the persona. had angela lied to mike, el would've continued lying to him the entire week. something she knows in her heart is wrong and not fair to mike.

this is a theme in s4. putting who you want to be seen as before being honest with your bf/gf. going above and beyond to preserve your lie, to be seen as who you want to be.

chrissy does that with jason. who she portrays herself as is completely different than who she really is and what she's really going through. jason has absolutely no idea chrissy is struggling and refused to believe chrissy would buy drugs, because chrissy didn't want to tell him. who knows how jason would've reacted if chrissy was honest, we don't know because chrissy didn't trust him enough to tell him. that's not love at all, that's sad.

this is a point in s2 as well. murray calls nancy out for being afraid to be her true self, and she stays with steve because she doesn't have to be her true self around him. she is her true self when she's with jonathan, and that's why they worked together. that's love.

the exact same thing happens with chrissy. the first time we see her genuinely smile is when she's with eddie. she's sweet and charismatic, and had she lived she totally would've gone to eddie's show, something you never would've expected from her, something her boyfriend, the person she pretends to love, would NEVER do.

robin and steve reinforce this too

you fall in love with the person who makes you feel accepted, the person who makes you feel like you can be who you are. the person you trust with your true self.

mike and el don't trust each other enough, they don't understand each other well enough.

they would have to change their behavior towards each other by leaps and bounds, and we're already at the last season. there is no time for that. stranger things isn't a multi season show about the complexity of romantic relationships and the healthy way to resolve problems. there is no time for that in just about any movie or show, especially a sci-fi show. you know what's way easier and way more likable? pairing your character with someone they naturally click with, who bring out the best in each other and for some reason can't help but be their authentic selves when they're with each other.

did it with jancy, like i said earlier

did it with lumax. when lucas and max talked on the bus max found herself spewing about things she'd never even said out loud before, and she had to stop herself. something about lucas just made her feel comfortable, like she could be herself and tell the truth. she trusted him.

"You're nothing like your brother, okay? You're cool and different, you're super smart, and you're like, totally tubular."

jopper too! joyce constantly had to hide things from bob, she was insecure about their family not being normal.

"This is not a normal family."

"It could be."

though bob had good intentions, the message of the show is not trying to be normal when you aren't. whatever it is about you that makes you weird or different, whatever you've been through that changed you, stay true to it. dont bottle it up and try to be someone else. all of vecnas victims in s4 were doing this, and it didn't end well for them.

they even did it with dustin and suzie. dustin constantly tries to impress max with his teeth, then in season 3 he says suzie thinks kissing is better without teeth. he doesn't have to be insecure about that or try to impress her. she likes him for him.

mike isn't comfortable being his true self around el either. he's insecure about his interests, he feels like he has to act older and cooler to impress her.

you shouldn't be with the person you feel you have to impress. you should be with the person who relieves that pressure, who makes you feel like being the authentic you is enough.

jonathan and nancy, lucas and max, joyce and hopper, dustin and suzie,

cough WILL AND MIKE cough...

[slut4thebroken]

Doctor’s Orders

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x patient!reader

Summary | Jonathan Crane wears a weak dose of fear toxin as cologne to his appointments just to put his patients on edge. He’s particularly fond of how you react to it though.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, manipulation, inappropriate use of fear toxin, obvi, very dubious consent, painful sex, fearplay, HEAVY breeding kink, forced breeding, technically housewife kink?, overstimulation, abuse of power?, ionno lol.

Words | 3.3 k

Notes | Based on this post. Credit to @lasagnebats for the idea. (Lowkey the plot kind of deviated from the whole fear cologne thing tbh but it’s still very relevant so whatever lmao)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

It’s not mentioned in the actual story but it’s very important for the plot so incase you didn’t read the summary I’m going to say it again lol. He wears a weak dose of fear toxin as his cologne.

“How are you feeling today?” He asked as he walked in and sat down across from you, putting his briefcase at his feet. 

“Better.” You said with a small smile. After only a moment though, your heart started beating harder and faster, and your breathing picked up. You swallowed thickly and cleared your throat before adding, “I- I think.”

“You think?” His voice sent a shiver through your body. You weren’t sure if he was purposely trying to sound threatening, but that’s how you heard it. 

“I…” You couldn’t look at him as your stomach started churning. 

“Please look at me when I'm talking to you.” He sighed, making your gaze snap back to him. “We won’t get anywhere if you continue to overreact to even the simplest questions.” 

“I know— I know. I’m sorry.” You started bouncing your leg incessantly, trying to get rid of some of the nerves you were feeling. “H-how are you?” You asked in return to his original question. 

“Always so polite.” He said with an amused smile. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know… That’s just how I was raised I guess.” You shrugged, not having a better answer for him. 

“It has nothing to do with how terrified you are of upsetting me?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he looked you up and down. 

“I- I’m not…” You cleared your throat and wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I was just… taught to respect people with more authority than me.” You said nervously. But it was true. You were always taught to show respect to people above you no matter what, especially if they were older than you. 

“I see. And you feel I have power over you right now?” 

“Yes.” You said quietly. Doesn’t he always?

“Well I don’t want you to fear me. These sessions are pointless if you can’t be completely open and honest with me.” You looked away from him again and swallowed the lump in your throat. “I promise you, nothing you say will upset me. I just want you to be truthful with me… So I can help you to the best of my ability. Do you understand?”

“Yes..” 

“Good.” He paused, seemingly coming up with the next topic of conversation. “You’re still having nightmares?” Your blood ran cold and your heart was almost starting to hurt with how hard it was beating. And all just because of a reminder of it. 

“Yes.” You whispered. 

“The same ones? Or something different.” 

“The same… But I noticed that they tend to happen more after our sessions than on days where I don’t see you…”

“Yes, that’d make sense. Since we talk about it, it’s only natural your brain would be thinking about it more.” 

“Right. Yeah— You’re right.” You said through a breath. 

“May I see your hand?” He suddenly asked, making you stiffen. 

“What?”

“Your hand.” He held out his own, waiting for you to place yours on top. With a shaky breath, you wiped your hand on your pants again, then placed it on his open palm. He turned it over so your palm was against his, then let out a quiet hum. Before you could ask what that meant, he grabbed your wrist and held your hand up, watching it tremble. He released you and you placed it back in your lap. 

“Why are you so scared?” 

“It… it's probably just because I started thinking about the nightmares.” That was the only explanation that made sense. It’s not like you’d be scared for no reason.

“Really? What were you thinking about?” You froze and looked away from him, trying to recall, but you never actually thought about them, more so just… remembered them. 

“I… I’m not sure.” You said absentmindedly, still trying to figure it out. He sighed quietly and took off his glasses, examining you closely. 

“I like to think that we’ve grown a bit closer since our first session. Wouldn’t you?” All you could do was nod wordlessly. “Almost like we’re more than just doctor and patient… Do you feel that way as well?” 

“I- I think so.” You said quietly. It was hard to tell right now. 

“Which is why I think we can try something that might work better for you.” He stood up and dragged his chair around the table, the loud screeching sound making you flinch. He sat down next to you and you waited nervously for what was next. 

“I think… if your brain is half focused on something else— something pleasurable…” he placed his hand on your thigh and leaned closer to you, “then you might be able to talk freely about what’s troubling you. What do you think?” Your chest was heaving as you stared at him with wide eyes, not able to respond. It felt like your throat was closing up and the speed at which your heart was beating made it feel like his hand was on your chest instead of your thigh, pushing down as hard as he could.       

“Is something wrong?” He asked once he noticed your reaction. 

“I-” You choked out, not able to say anything else. 

“Hm?” He waited, giving you a chance to respond. When you didn’t, he sighed. “As your doctor, if you’re in a state that leaves you unable to think or communicate clearly, it is my responsibility to do what I think is best.” His hand started snaking up your thigh, moving toward the center as it climbed higher. His touch was burning a trail on your skin and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. 

“Just relax. You want to actually make some progress, don’t you?” You gave him the tiniest nod, unable to do anything else. “Good girl. If you can control your emotions, then we can talk like civilized people, but for now, we’re going to have to try this.” You weren't even sure what exactly was making you feel this way, but you trusted Dr. Crane. He would only do what’s best for you. 

“Take off your pants.” He suddenly ordered, making your body go completely rigid. “I won’t repeat myself.” He warned and you immediately scrambled to take them off. Once they were on the floor, he grabbed your hips and guided you so that you were straddling his thighs, sitting on his lap. “Now, this might be a bit overwhelming for you, so I don’t mind if you need to keep your face buried against my chest or neck. Like this,” he gently grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into him, “see?” 

“Thank you.” You whispered, bringing your hands up the grab at his suit jacket. It felt like your entire body was trembling now. “Dr. Crane, I- I don’t feel very good.”

“Shh. Your body’s just excited. That’s why your heart is racing and your breathing is shallow.” He explained calmly. You’ve never felt this ‘excited’ before in your life. “Are you going to let me do my job now?” You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck to comfort yourself. “Thank you.” His hands started dragging up and down your thighs, just getting you used to his touch, but all it was doing was making you more anxious. His fingertips felt like claws on your hypersensitive body, but when you looked down, you saw no marks left behind. 

“I know you’re excited but you need to try and calm down.” He said calmly. “Take a deep breath through your nose, then out through your mouth.” You complied, though it wasn’t nearly as slow as he actually wanted. But it was an improvement. “Again. Deeper.” You inhaled again, trying to let the smell and warmth of his body soothe you. But it was like the deep breaths were making everything worse. 

“Dr. Crane, it’s not— I…” He sighed and your stomach churned when you realized he was disappointed in you. “No- I’m sorry. I’ll try again. I’ll keep trying.” You rushed out, taking more deep breaths. 

“That’s a good girl. Nice and slow.” His hands snaked up your thighs to your hips, then up the sides of your body, under your shirt. 

“W-what are you doing?” You choked out, when he dragged his hands up even more until he was touching your breasts. 

“Just feeling your heartbeat.” He explained. You gasped when he gently squeezed your breasts, groping them in a way that made your entire body feel hot. 

“Dr. Crane?” You whimpered and he shushed you. So you clung to his suit jacket and buried your face into the crook of his neck even more, seeking comfort. 

“I’ll need to remove your shirt. It’s obstructing my examination.” You hesitantly agreed and he pulled it over your head, then guided you back into the same position, now only in a pair of panties. “Deep breaths.” He reminded you as he continued. He only groped you for a few seconds before focusing his attention on your nipples. You let out a strangled moan when he gently pinched, rolling them between his fingers. You’ve never been overly sensitive there before, but right now, just the barest touch sent a shock through your body. 

“Your heart is racing.” He commented, flattening his hands on your chest and sliding them down your stomach. He reached your hips and gripped them tightly, then pulled them forward to grind your clothed heat on his bulge. You gasped at the sudden movement and when you felt the obvious sign of his arousal. 

“When’s the last time you’ve been fucked?” His tone remained the same; clinical, unemotional. It took you a moment to register his question, but once you did, a blush took over your face. “You’ve been a patient here for a few months now so I’m assuming at least a few months ago?” All the work you did to calm your breathing was gone in an instant. Words couldn’t form in your mouth, so you just nodded against his chest. “How long before that?” 

“I… I don’t remember.” You choked out, finally able to speak. 

“Poor thing. It’s been that long since you’ve been filled?” He cooed with faux sympathy. 

“Dr. Crane.” You sobbed, fisting his suit even tighter to ground yourself. He was still guiding your hips and you started to feel arousal pooling in your stomach. 

“Is that why you’re not making any progress? Your cunt’s been craving a cock so bad, you can’t even think?” You whined and started moving your hips on your own now, desperate for more. “Yeah I think that is the reason. You’re in your prime child bearing years, it’s only natural you’d be longing to breed.” You let out a strangled moan, feeling both humiliated and aroused by his words. “A few more sessions like this and you might actually be able to use that pretty little head of yours again.” 

“Please,” You whined, tears of desperation brimming in your eyes. Your heart was still pounding and your breathing was still shallow, but it started feeling different. Before, you weren’t sure what the cause was, but now you know it’s arousal. At least it mostly is. He suddenly gripped your chin and pulled your head so your face was only inches from his. As his eyes trailed all over your face, taking you in, he hummed in thought, still staring at you with his piercing gaze. 

“Misattribution of arousal truly is a fascinating subject.” He smiled. You had no idea what that meant. “Take off your underwear.” He suddenly ordered, making your eyes widen. When he stared at you, giving you a warning gaze, you scrambled off his lap to remove them. He started unbuckling his belt, then opening his pants. When he took out his cock, your breath caught in your throat. Where is that supposed to fit?

“Sit.” You tentatively got on his lap again. He sat back in the metal chair a little, dragging his eyes down your body. “Put it in.” You swallowed and looked between his face and his length, feeling your heart start pounding even harder. “Now.” Biting your trembling lip, you grabbed his cock and put it at the right angle, then slowly and apprehensively lowered yourself onto it. You whimpered when he first breached your opening, immediately feeling the burn of the stretch. 

“You won’t like it if I have to take over so I suggest you do better than this.” He warned and you whined in response, but forced yourself down lower. 

“It hurts, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered, hoping for sympathy from the cold, apathetic doctor. 

“Enough.” He growled, grabbing your hips and lifting you off of him. He stood and spun you around to push your torso onto the cold metal table with a hand on the back of your neck. Holding you down firmly, he pushed his cock back in, this time going all the way. You cried out and scrambled for purchase on the table as he immediately started thrusting. 

“W-wait, Dr. Crane..” You choked out, the burning stretch bringing tears to your eyes. Not bothering with replying, he removed the hand from your neck and you heard clothes rustling, then he was putting his tie between your lips and wrapping it around your head to secure it. Almost instantly those feelings flared up again. Your chest heaved as you panted, trying to ignore how much it was hurting from your heart beating so fast and hard. 

He put his hand on your head this time, forcing your cheek onto the cold metal as he held you down and started moving faster. You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on calming down but everything was just so much. 

“Is this what you needed? Have you been playing the role of the dumb little patient this whole time just to get me to fuck you?” You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move it under his hand. “I can feel you pulsing around my cock. Is it really that good?” The way he was mocking you had you squeezing your thighs together, but he couldn’t have that. He lifted one of your legs and placed it on the table, keeping you from getting any real stimulation on your clit besides his balls smacking against it with every thrust. 

“Please!” You cried, the word being muffled by the tie. 

“I know. You’re probably so eager to come right now, aren’t you?” You did your best to nod, despite him holding you down. “Is the thought of finally getting bred making you all needy?” He asked condescendingly and you let out a strangled whimper. “Should I let you come on my cock?” 

“Yes!” You yelled, trying to make it sound coherent through the gag. He released your head and grabbed your shoulders, starting a brutal pace that made you almost scream from the intensity. The table was screeching against the floor with each thrust and you could start to hear his quiet grunts as he neared his orgasm.

“Go ahead then. Show me how needy this pathetic little cunt is for my cock.” He said and, despite the degrading words, you almost cried in relief. You’ve only made yourself come maybe a handful of times since being admitted to Arkham, so it did not take much longer for you to get there. You all but screamed around the gag when it hit you, making your legs turn to jelly. His thrusts didn’t even waiver, but you could hear groans coming from him. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through you, so intense that it bordered on painful. 

When it was finally done, you sagged into the table, but your body immediately went stiff when the overstimulation kicked in. You cried out and squirmed, trying to escape it, so he grabbed your hair and yanked you up, wrapping his other arm around your stomach. 

“I know.” He pulled your head back until it was resting on his shoulder, then turned it so your face was up against his neck. “Just breathe through it.” But you couldn’t. Everything was just too much. You sobbed loudly and buried your face in the crook of his neck as he fucked you, moving both hands down to grab your hips. 

“Just be a good girl and take it. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be fucked and bred like a bitch in heat.” You let out a strangled sob at the degrading words. “No… It’s what you needed.” He growled, making you whimper. “Don’t worry, we’re going to keep doing this until I finally fuck a baby into you. Maybe then you’ll be less cock hungry. But we’ll probably have to keep this up while you’re pregnant because of all the hormones.” After your orgasm, everything your body was going through started to feel like it was from fear again, rather than arousal. His words were making you spiral into overthinking. You can’t have a baby yet— you’re too young. And also there’s the fact that you’re in an asylum… 

“And I think… I might make you my little lab rat. You respond so well to such a small dose, I’m eager to see how you’ll react to something more potent.” Now you were truly confused, but you were also too fucked out and overstimulated to try and understand. “God— that’ll be a fucking sight.” He choked out, rutting into you more frantically. Tears started streaming down your cheeks as he kept fucking you, getting more painful with every thrust. But based on the way his sounds kept getting louder, you knew it’d be over any second now.  

You cried out when he roughly snapped his hips into you and stayed there, wrapping his arms around your torso to keep you close and letting out a low groan. His hips bucked forward with every spurt of come that left his cock, despite the fact that he was already completely inside, pressed up against your cervix uncomfortably. Even after his orgasm ended, he remained buried inside you, keeping you plugged up for now.  

“That’s better, isn’t it? Now you’re nice and full.” He spoke softly, turning his head to kiss your neck as his hand rubbed over your lower stomach. “Mm… I can’t wait to see your belly all big and round— your tits swollen with milk. You’re going to look so beautiful.” Even though everything calmed down, you still felt anxious and scared. “And I’m sure once that kid is out, you’ll go back to being a brainless little bitch in heat so I’ll have to fuck another one into you.” You let out a weak sound, unable to do anything else. Your whole body was shaking. With how you were currently feeling, his words sounded like a threat. 

“Still can’t use that pretty head?” He asked curiously. You didn’t answer, but it didn’t seem like he expected you to. “You must need more, then.” You whined at the thought. He gently pushed your torso back onto the table and you hissed in pain when he dragged his cock out. When his come trickled out, he cursed under his breath. Using his thumbs, he spread your puffy, abused folds, giving him a better view of your gaping hole. You flinched when he used his fingers to scoop up his come and push it back in. “Lucky for you, I cleared the rest of my schedule today just for this session, so I can keep giving you load after load until you drain my balls completely. Maybe then you’ll actually be able to fucking think.” 

Taglist (join here)

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[hairmetal666]

He hates Steve Harrington, everything about him. His stupid, upbeat pop music. His tall fucking hair. His annoyingly bright clothes. His bullshit German luxury car.

Eddie hates that Steve's a good guy. Hates that he carried Eddie's broken and dying body out of hell. Hates that the kids love him how they do. Hates that he and Robin Buckley are the kind of best friends who might as well be siblings. Hates the way that Jonathan is back and Nancy is happy, and Steve has no resentment about any of it. Hates that he'll never, for as long as he lives, forget about six kids and a Winnebago.

And he hates, more than anything of all, the way he's always finding himself in Steve's bed. The way he falls apart when Steve is deep inside, the way he begs for more, pleads for Steve to wreck him. The way Steve treats him so good that it makes him sob.

Eddie hates himself for not being able to stop. For wanting Steve so much that sometimes he feels it as a visceral ache in the back of his molars. He hates himself for how little fight his dumb traitor heart puts into not being astronomically down bad in love with the guy immediately.

And none of this is supposed to flow from his brain to his tongue to out of his mouth, but Steve fucks him so good and slow--gives him the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life--that it all just slips out of the safe confines of his mind.

"I fucking hate you," he says. Or pants, more like, he's all flushed and sweaty and covered in come, not yet settled back to himself.

"W-what?" Steve stutters. He's standing at the edge of the bed, damp towel clenched in his fist.

True, full consciousness strikes then and he doesn't know what else to say. Steve's big eyes are wide and sad, and Eddie's brain is screaming at him to fix it, and isn't that just another thing that he hates?

"Steve. Like. Fucking look at yourself, man." He waves his hand up Harrington's perfect body. "You're the most beautiful fucking thing in the universe. And you--you embody like every fucking thing I'm supposed to hate with your money and your athletic ability, and your whole goddamn clean-cut All-American boy next door bullshit. And I--I keep ending up here when everything in me says to run away, that this--you--are too good to be fucking true."

And Steve, he's pinching the bridge of his nose, looking more than anything like he's trying not to burst into tears and this--this cannot be borne.

"I love you so fucking much." His voice cracks and he reaches out to circle his fingers around Steve's wrist, the one holding the towel. "I love you so much and I don't deserve even a second of it. Not a minute. Because you're Steve Harrington, you're--"

Steve presses his hand (he hates the the wide palms and long fingers, how they're perfect, how they hold him and comfort him and wring out pleasure again and again like it's nothing, like Steve's hands were made for making Eddie come) over Eddie's mouth. "Shut-up, Munson," he says.

"I fucking hate you too." There's ease in the way he says it, a lightness in his eyes. "I hate that you don't use conditioner. I hate that your van makes that turkey gobble sound every time you turn a corner, and you refuse to let me look at it. I hate how loud you play your music, how it makes my fucking skin shake. I hate when you forget to take the damn chains off your jeans when you put them in the wash."

Steve climbs into bed, straddling him, towel long forgotten. "You know what else I fucking hate, Eddie?" He leans down, ghosting his lips against the tip of Eddie's nose, skimming his mouth. "I hate that I've never loved anyone like I love you. I hate that I almost fucking lost you. I hate that we can't spend every minute in this goddamn bed, so I can memorize every inch of your skin, every sound you make, every single way I tear you apart, and all of the things that put you back together. I love you, Ed. Every fucking terrible part."

[rottenaero]

What if Steve got kicked out of his parent’s house after season 2?

He was already on thin ice after s1, with the beers and his fight with Jonathan, but after he got into ANOTHER fight with Billy they’re just kinda like, ‘pack your shit and leave’

And after a few weeks of living out of his car in the school parking lot, Eddie notices him after Hellfire and just kinda like, offers his house as a place to stay.

Of course Steve is like, ‘nah, ill be fine’ because he doesn’t want to freeload, but Eddie is absolutely not having it and convinces him that he wouldn’t be, and that he can pay him and do chores and shit if he really feels that bad about it.

Then Steve just starts living with him, of course there are rules, don’t invite people over, don’t talk about Eddie’s business, and don’t talk about the shit in his room.

The rest is the standard criteria, don’t bring animals in, don’t burn the house down, blah blah blah.

Course Wayne is a bit mad about this random guy with the last name Harrington at first, but the guy makes him coffee before he leaves for work, and is willing to put on a goddamn sailor costume to pay help pay the rent, so eventually they become acquaintances.

Eventually turning into the two watching sports on the tv and laughing at Eddies antics.

Thing is, during this whole thing, no one knows they live together. Dustin and the party don’t get much more than i moved out with a friend after the first time they ask to hang out at his house, and Hellfire just knows he has a roommate, not that its Steve, because all his shit is in the living room and hes always working when they’re over.

One day, mid-lunch, they decide to hang out at Eddie’s after school and he's all cool with it but is like ‘wait, my roommates off, let me go ask them if its okay’ and they're like ‘sure, okay, I wonder who it is?’

Then he waltzes straight up to Steve Harrington, who’s sitting by Nancy and Jonathan, and asks.

“Hellfires coming over afterschool, you good with that?”

“Yeah sure, do whatever, its your damn house, I can get out your hair if you want?”

“Nah nah, its all good, want you to meet ‘em anyway. Hey hey, wanna sit with us today?”

“Sure.”

Then Eddie heads back to the now silent Hellfire table (actually the whole cafeteria is a little silent) and sits down in his seat, Steve sitting in the empty one next to him.

Hellfire is absolutely confused, not just because Steve lives with him, but because of the very talked upon rumors about Eddie being gay, and how very true they were, and the fact that as a former-king, Steve should know that.

Steve however, seems very unconcerned with those rumors because for as close as Eddie keeps getting to him, even holding his bicep at some point, he acts very chill and relaxed, even leaning into him at some points.

Hellfire eventually calm down, and go to his house after school, and around 10 they decide to just stay the night. Eddie gives them a thumbs up, and turns to Steve.

“You’re bunking with me tonight.”

“Cool.”

Gareth starts panicking because there is a very obvious pride flag above one of his posters and he may not have seen it before and Eddie is so getting beaten up.

Except none of that happens. They wake up early that morning and Steve starts getting ready for work, and is about to leave when he turns to Eddie with a smirk.

“What, no goodbye kiss? Too dorky to do in-front of you friends?” And Eddie strolls right past the flabbergasted Hellfire and plants one on his temple.

“Goodbye o-great-king-of-assholery!”

Gareth quite literally chokes.

(What makes this even better? They’re not even dating, thats just Steve-being-Steve)

Part 2

Ao3

[insidekatmind]

The End~Jude Bellingham x reader (feat.Jonathan Daviss)

You’re sitting on the bed, your hands trembling as you clutch your phone. Jude is across the room, his face locked in an expression you barely recognize. The love that once united you feels like a distant memory, suffocated by glittering nights, applause, and trophies.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, your voice breaking as you try to hold back the tears threatening to spill.

Jude runs a hand through his hair, his gaze evasive. “What do you want from me? I’m doing my best!”

“Your best?” you repeat, incredulous. “You don’t even look at me the way you used to. All that matters to you now is football, Real Madrid, your image. I... I don’t exist in your life anymore.”

He scoffs, as if your words are a burden. “That’s not true. But you don’t understand the pressure I’m under. I have responsibilities.”

“And me?” your voice rises, pain spilling out. “Don’t I matter? When was the last time you asked me how I was? When did you actually listen to how I felt?”

Jude stays silent, and that silence speaks louder than any words could. There’s nothing left to say. You stand, gathering your things with shaky hands.

“Goodbye, Jude,” you say, your voice breaking. You expect him to stop you, to say something, anything. But he doesn’t.

---

Six months have passed. You’ve changed. You’re no longer the insecure girl who needed approval. Now, you’re a singer the world is beginning to notice. The success of your latest single, Older, has catapulted you into the spotlight, and the lyrics are a gut punch to anyone who knows how to read between the lines.

“All I needed was someone who truly saw me, someone who treated me the way I deserved. Were you ever really that person?”

The song is everywhere. Jude can’t avoid it, no matter how hard he tries. Every time he turns on the radio, he hears your voice, each word a dagger to his chest. But what’s eating him even more are your social media posts.

In one of your latest photos, you’re with Jonathan Daviss, the actor from Outer Banks. The two of you are close, his smile radiant, his hand casually placed on your waist—a proximity that seems too natural to be accidental. And the caption doesn’t help.

“A man who knows how to treat a woman. 🌹”

Jude sees the photo, and it sets his blood boiling. Jonathan.He can’t get him out of his head.

“I can’t stand it,” he mutters to Vinicius, sitting next to him during practice.

“Who?” Vinicius asks with a smirk. “Ah, you mean your ex? I saw the photo. Nice shot, don’t you think?”

Jude shoots him a glare that could kill.

---

You’re at an event, a music awards ceremony. You’re wearing an elegant black dress that hugs every curve with class and grace. Jonathan is by your side, his arm casually draped across your back. You’re there to accept an award for your song, and the entire room is watching you with admiration.

But among all the eyes on you, there’s one gaze you feel the most. Jude is there. He wasn’t invited, but someone brought him as a special guest. You notice him immediately: he looks flawless, but there’s something in his eyes that makes you feel vulnerable.

After the ceremony, as you make your way to the bar, you find him there. He’s leaning against the counter, a glass of something amber in his hand. You approach him, not because you want to, but because you feel like you have no other choice.

“Congratulations,” he says, his voice lower than you remember. “Your song... It’s powerful.”

“Thanks,” you reply coldly, trying to maintain your composure.

Jude looks at you intensely, the pain evident in his eyes. “It’s about me, isn’t it?”

You smile, but it’s a bitter smile. “If you think it’s about you, maybe you should ask yourself why.”

He takes a step closer, lowering his voice. “I know I messed up. I know I lost you because I was... blind, stupid. But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“This isn’t the time for those words, Jude,” you cut him off, searching for Jonathan in the crowd.

But Jude doesn’t back down. “He doesn’t know you like I do. He doesn’t love you like I do.”

“And how would you know?” you challenge, feeling anger rising. “Jonathan treats me like a queen. Something you never did.”

Jude stays silent for a moment, then takes a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right. But I can’t accept it. I can’t accept that it’s over between us.”

His words hit you, but you’re unsure of what you feel. All you know is that you’ve changed, and maybe, just maybe, you no longer want to be the girl who needs saving. Perhaps this time, it’s up to you to decide what you really want.

[clericsandpaladins]

I find Season Four to be quite interesting in that the Duffers have confirmed that originally it was meant to be the last season, but they had to split it for the sake of pacing. Season Four is less of it's own season and more of the set-up for Season Five and that tells us a lot about the plots in Season Four.

I've seen a lot of people argue about the purpose of the California and Russia plotlines considering that they are so disconnected from what we could call the main plot, which is Vecna. But the Duffers are NOT bad writers. They had an extra six months to work on and revisit their scripts. Everything in Season Four was very intentional, which is why I choose to give the California and Russia plotlines the benefit of the doubt. Do they seem pretty pointless? Yeah, right now they do. But when you think about it, we are only seeing half of the story here. Season Four and Five were meant to be ONE season.  Hopper's prison break is only half of the story, we don't yet know the true purpose for reviving him and spending so much time getting him out. We needed to get Hopper away so that El could spend this season continuing her ongoing arc of self-discovery and independence. What we don't know is why we need Hopper back and that's the question I think will be answered in Season Five. You don't kill and revive characters for no reason because it takes away the stakes in your story. By doing that, you're making your audience less invested in the safety of these characters because they KNOW there are no consequences. So then why did the Duffers spend a quarter of Season Four getting Hopper back, despite it's irrelevance to the plot until the very end where they help to defeat Vecna? That's the question that Season Five will answer. The California group go on a big road trip trying to find El. Seemingly the only purpose for this is to be able to find El so she can get to the pizza freezer and help Max, making the rest of the stuff they do pretty irrelevant. Right? Wrong. Because, once again, this is set-up. We are only seeing half of the story the Duffers wanted to tell. So then what is actually happening in this plotline? Certainly nothing much with Jonathan. But what we do spend most of this plotline doing is showing the development of Mike and Will's relationship. They start off awkward, they argue, they have heart-to-hearts. The majority of this plotline is dedicated to showing us how Will and Mike interact and behave around each other. You know how it all ends? With a chekhov's gun in the form of Will's painting and his veiled love confession. If the Duffers are indeed good writers, then they have to address this is Season Five, once again showing us we are only seeing half of the story.  Because of the chekhov's gun, we know that Will's feelings for Mike have to be addressed in Season Five. If they aren't, then what was the point of the painting in the first place? We didn't need it for Mike to confess his love to El. El dying should've been enough for Mike, but it wasn't. Will reminding Mike of what happened in the van is what lead to his love confession. The painting has a purpose, it just hasn't been addressed yet. Similarly, if this emotional arc with Mike and Will ends with no change in their relationship, then what was the point? There was no need for Will to be in love with Mike to show his queerness. They could've introduced a new love interest for Will like they did with Dustin and Robin. But they didn't. Will's inevitable confession to Mike needs to result in a change for the California plotline to have a purpose, otherwise the narrative wasted all that time building up to nothing. Not to mention the fact that Will is the key to tying up Mike's arc. Mike feels like he isn't needed by El and this is a major insecurity for him. He spends most of Season Four worrying about this and so in order for his ending to be satisfying, we need to resolve this insecurity and prove him wrong. Yet, Season Four ended with El realizing she had value as a person outside of her super powers and that she doesn't need another person to feel whole. She is her own superhero. But you know who does need Mike? Will. In conclusion, these plotlines aren't useless. They are set-up. EDIT: I wrote this at 2am lol. Wish I would've waited and edited the post a bit but alas 2am thoughts are never edited.

[usomads]

All-Inclusive // Jimmy Uso x Reader

Author’s Note -> Ahhhh I love this one 🤭 Been working on this for a bit so I hope y’all like it! Also: I’m thinking about making a tag list for my stories… is that something y’all would be interested in? Lmk and as always, happy reading! 

Plot -> You knew being at an all-inclusive suite included everything like drinks, food, etc., but you didn’t know you’d find yourself getting even more.

Pairings -> Jimmy Uso x Fem!Reader (Y/N)

Warnings -> Cursing, Fingering, Oral Sex (M!Receiving, F!Receiving), Choking, P in V, Creampie, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.8k

“A closet full of clothes, and yet I never know what to wear to these things,” you muttered to yourself, sifting through hangers trying to find something you could work with. Articles of clothing scattered the floor around you as you stood frustrated, trying to throw something halfway decent together. It was always like this for these events, you always knew exactly how to do your hair and makeup but for some reason the outfit was something you could never figure out. You and your boyfriend, Jonathan, were going to a WWE Premium Live Event, and since he wasn’t booked for this card you decided to get a suite with some other wrestlers and their spouses to watch it. Well, maybe, if you could find something to wear.

“Baby!” Jon calls from downstairs, “we gotta go! We’re gonna be late, you almost ready?” He makes his way to you in the closet, noticing you were still trying to get yourself together.

“Go ahead, I’ll head there in a bit. Still tryna find an outfit,” you sighed, clearly annoyed at yourself. Jon wraps his arms around your waist from behind and plants a kiss to your cheek. “Alright, baby girl, just don’t take too long, okay? I know Bianca and Jade are dying to see you, it’s been a minute since y’all been together.”

“I know, I know, I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” you smiled at him as he gave you another kiss and left for the arena, while you went back to sorting through your closet. After about 10 minutes of staring at the same clothes on hangers you were close to texting Jon to let him know it wasn’t happening tonight, when something caught your eye. A black silk button up was nearly hidden behind all the other clothes hanging up, but you saw it. And it would go perfect with this new skirt I bought too. Grabbing it from the rack, you were able to get a closer look. It was for sure oversized, and you were trying to remember where you could’ve gotten it from. It didn’t matter anyways, because you were already throwing it on along with the new skirt and a simple pair of black heels. You made your way to the full-length mirror in your closet, adjusting the buttons on the top to tease your cleavage modestly, but enough to make them noticeable. Giving yourself one last up-down in the mirror, you were satisfied. More than satisfied, actually, you looked stunning. You shook your head and laughed, the annoyance and stress of the past hour and a half feeling silly now that you had finally found something to wear and it paid off. You grab your phone off the dresser and call a driver to come get you, grabbing a small bag to take with you as you head downstairs and out the door.

“Y/N, oh my god, girl! You finally made it!” Bianca yelled excitedly as her and Jade ran to the door of the suite to greet you. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you,” Bianca gave you a strong hug and rocked the two of you back and forth, “how have you been?!”

“It’s been too damn long!” Jade exclaimed, “and can I just say… you look hot. Jon said you were having wardrobe issues and, honey, looking at you I just don’t think that’s true,” the three of you laughed.

“No, seriously, I was! I damn near canceled because I couldn’t find anything, but finding this top hidden in the back of the closet saved it. I don’t even remember where I got it honestly, I don’t normally buy stuff this oversized but, hey, I guess my forgetfulness finally came in clutch,” you chuckled. 

“And did, you look incredible, babe. Now c’mon, let’s go mingle with everybody!” Bianca and Jade locked your guys’s arms as the three of you hopped around from group to group in the suite, chatting with some new faces and some you hadn’t seen in a very long time. Your eyes tried searching for your boyfriend, but you couldn’t seem to find him anywhere so you assumed he had gone to the restroom or maybe was notified he had to do something for the show last minute and shrugged it off. After a while though, you had to pee so you excused yourself from the group and walked across the hall to the restrooms. You did your business and washed your hands, drying them and making your way back to the suite. You opened the bathroom door to be greeted by your boyfriend.

“Oh, hey, babe! I was just looking for you, where have you be-,” you were cut off by Jon stepping into the restroom with you, pinning you against the wall and locking the door behind him. You gasped as your back collided with the hard surface behind you as Jon stared down at you with an intensity you had never seen before. His eyes trailed down your body to take in what you were wearing, coming back up and staring directly at the shirt you were wearing. 

“I see you found my shirt,” he growled, and your memory clicked in from a week prior. ***FLASHBACK***

“Babe! Have you seen my button up? The silk one my mom got me a while back?” Jonathan shouted from the bedroom as you were applying your lipstick, getting ready for date night. “Um, no I don’t think so… did you check the laundry?” 

“Yeah, it’s not in there, can’t find it. I’ll just wear something else, don’t worry about it!”

***END FLASHBACK***

“I- I thought it was mine, I found it in the back of my closet. I’m sorry…” you muttered, nervously, not wanting him to be mad at you for “stealing” his shirt. “Oh, baby, I’m not mad,” Jon paused, lowering his head closer to your trembling lips, “but if you’re really sorry…” he inches closer, his breath fanning over your cheeks as his lips brush yours, “then show me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in, closing the distance between you. He kissed you with a desire you had never seen from him before, hungrily brushing his tongue against yours as he asserted his dominance over you. His fingers worked on the buttons of your (his) shirt, but left the clothing sitting on your shoulders as the cool air conditioning hit your nipples, hardening them instantly. You shuddered at the feeling, as his hands hiked your shirt up and kneaded your ass as he planted kisses along the base of your neck. “You know… I love it… when you wear my shirts… so fuckin’ sexy.” You moaned as his lips drifted down your neck and to your chest, as his hands fondled your waist and inched closer to your growing wetness. The tips of his fingers teased the front of your panties, toying with the material as you bucked your hips desperately for any sort of friction. “Patience, baby, imma give it to you,” you weren’t listening, too consumed in your neediness for him, and continued to squirm underneath him. You’re snapped out of your trance by Jon pinning your arms above your head and growling in your ear. “What I say, huh? Keep still ‘fore I give you somethin’ to squirm about, and you ain’t gonna like it.” You whimper and nod in response, trying to hold it together as you fight every urge to act on your own desperation. Jon holds your wrists above your head with his left hand, using the right to slide your panties to the side and dive his fingers into your wetness. You trembled, sighing and throwing your head back to hit the wall as his digits caressed your dripping folds. He was torturing you, edging his fingers closer and closer to your entrance but never slipping inside, instead opting to watch your face twist and contort at the way a simple touch from him had you so riled up. He loved the way your breathing would stagger as he teased you and watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, giving into his touch. 

“Mmm, baby please,” you cried, the sounds of your whines echoing around you. “You sorry, hmm?” He teased, brushing his thumb across your clit, causing you to jolt in pleasure. “Y-yes, fuckk baby, I’m so- I’m sorry,” you hissed.

“You gonna have to be more convincing than that” You whined loudly at his response, turning into a loud and dragged out moan as he slipped a finger inside. Your pussy immediately tightened around it, squeezing it as he pumped in and out of you. Your eyes rolled into your skull as he carefully worked his magic on you. Your fingers gripped onto the blazer he was wearing, trying to cling onto anything as he drove you further into pure, unadulterated bliss. His finger picked up pace and glided deeper and deeper inside you, brushing against the soft padding of your g-spot as he curled it. You felt yourself stretch around him again with the addition of a second finger, your walls spasming around both digits as he mercilessly thrusted his fingers inside of you. 

“O-oh my god, Jon I-, I’m so c-close,” you moaned as his lips found their way back to your neck again. “Hold it. You’re not cumming ‘til I say you can, got me? Now tell me how sorry you are.”

“I- I’m sorry, baby, I’m so so sorry. Now please, I’m gonna-”

“Uh uh, not sorry enough. Get on your knees and convince me.” He withdrew his fingers from you faster than you anticipated, nearly making your knees give out in the process, but you obeyed him like the good girl you were. You dropped to your knees in an instant, hands immediately grabbing for his belt and zipper, as you worked quickly to free him from the constraints of his pants. You could tell from the prominent bulge that lined his boxers he was painfully hard as you palmed him, Jon letting out a low groan and instinctively grinding himself into your hand. “Fuck baby, don’t tease. You know ion like that shit.” You pulled down his boxers to reveal his cock and salivated at the sight; the veins along his shaft prominent as his length twitched upon release from its imprisonment. You looked up at the man who stood before you, his eyes darkened and glazed over with lust as he watched you coat his dick in your saliva before taking his tip in your mouth. You sucked lightly and gave kitten licks to him, knowing how sensitive his head was and watching as he threw his head back in ecstasy and released your name from his lips in low moans. Your mouth worked its way down his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, his hands grasping your hair as you took as much of him as you could.

“Mmm, fuck ma, lemme fuck that pretty lil mouth of yours. Always so good for me.” You gave a slight nod, relaxing your jaw and opening your mouth more as his hips made slow and steady movements. You gagged on him, but focused on the breathing from your nose as he drilled himself into your throat. Tears brimmed your eyes, threatening to spill onto your cheeks as he continued to thrust faster and faster, making you gag on him more and more. “You love it when I use your pretty little mouth like this, hmm? How sorry are you now?” You moaned around him as he showed no mercy on your throat and gripped your hair, and watching his face told you he was reaching the edge. Surprisingly, he released himself from your mouth with a pop and helped you up, still dizzy from the assault his cock was performing on your mouth. 

“I still don’t think you’re that sorry, you wanna prove it to me? Hop up on this counter and spread your legs for me, pretty girl, imma fuck you ‘til I believe it.” You hopped on the counter of the bathroom sink and opened yourself to him completely, letting him see your glistening folds aching and ready for him. He pumped himself a few times before lining himself up and slamming into you, giving you no room to adjust to him as he ruthlessly pounded into you and had you screaming his name. His hand quickly met your mouth, covering it to keep you quiet as he leaned in and started fucking deeper into you. You were seeing stars, moaning into his hand and raking your nails across his shoulders as he drove into you at an unforgiving pace. 

“Shit, Y/N, so fuckin’ tight f’me. Fit me like a fuckin’ glove. Can’t get enough of this pussy, baby,” he moaned, continuing his fast-paced thrusts. “You wanna tell me how sorry you are now, baby girl? You think you’re sorry enough for me to let you cum?” He removed the hand covering your mouth and brought it down to your clit, rubbing slow circles into the sensitive bud.

“H-holy s-shit, mmm, fuck baby I- I’m s-sorry! I’m sorry I-, oh my god, I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby,” you cried, “p-please believe me, I’m so sorry. I’m gonna-” “You think you deserve it, hmm?” He wraps his hand around your throat, gently squeezing as you let out a strangled moan. “Go ahead baby, you think you deserve this nut?”

“Y-yes, ohh fuck, yes I deserve it. B-been so good f-f’you.” You choked out, consumed completely in Jon and the pleasure he was providing you.

“You’ve been such a good girl… you really are sorry, huh?” You nodded frantically, letting soft moans fall off your lips. “Let go, baby, cum all over this dick f’me. Lemme see you.”

The orgasm that erupts from the pit of your stomach is explosive enough to make supernovas look small in comparison. Your body and pussy convulse around him as you scream his name and release yourself on his cock. Your vision goes black as you’re overwhelmed with an intense feeling of pleasure as your juices coat his dick and lower abdomen, squirting all over him. He watches you as you let go, taking in every detail of your mouth agape and chanting his name, the furrow of your brows, your eyes squeezing shut, and most of all your walls constricting around his cock, coaxing him to his own release. He coats your insides with a loud groan, releasing himself completely into your aching pussy as he slowly pistons himself into you to ride out both of you two’s orgasms. Soft moans and pants escape the both of you, coming down from what felt like the most intense release the two of you have shared. You both sat for a moment, evening your breathing and taking the time to fully recover before he pulled out of you and moved your panties back to their rightful position, his cum leaking out of you and soaking them in the process. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and you smiled up at him, softly kissing his lips before jumping down and adjusting yourself in the mirror.

You both desperately tried to cover up the events of what just happened, feeling satisfied and unlocking the door to the restroom before attempting to sneak out, but Bianca being in front of the door stopped you both in your tracks.

“Oh, thank god, I’ve had to pee for the past 30 minutes,” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows at the both of you, “didn’t know Y/N needed help using the bathroom, Jon.” The two of you blushed, knowing your attempt to hide your escapade had failed miserably. “Now get y’all horny asses inside, you’re lucky they didn’t start filming the live segment in the suite yet, or the TV audience would’ve heard quite the show… now, if you’ll excuse me,” she winked, hurrying past you both as you and your boyfriend exchanged a quick glance before sneaking your way back in the suite.

[incorporealbombchelle]

Friend of the Family

Mr.Reed × Fem!Reader(Mid-20s) [18+]

Synopsis: Part 1 - (y/n)'s boring family Christmas vacation to Colorado doesn't exactly go as anticipated...

⚠️TW: Boring Family Dynamic, Age Gap, Alcohol Consumption (all parties of age), Oral Sex (Male & Female Recipients), Raw P in V Penetration, Breif Mutual Masturbation, General Smut. ❄️

"So do I even *actually* know this guy?" I interrogate, unsure why we're staying there instead of some mountainside Airbnb. "Of course! (y/n), you've met Mr. Reed plenty of times, you were just, y'know...smaller." Dad explains, cheery. "Okay... but when you said 'Colorado Christmas Vacation' I thought we'd be like... snowboarding, or hanging out in a cute mountain town, or at least renting a cool cabin in Telluride... not like... the middle of nowhere part of Boulder with some guy I haven't seen since I was a kid..."

He sighs, defeated by my expectations yet again. "Listen. He's my best friend, a few years back he lost his wife, and its true, I haven't gotten around to seeing him in person since you were four, Bug."

He drones on,

"He's a really nice guy, and super cool. He loves that Lana Del Rey girl you're always talking about, and he's got a really nice collection of records and books, its like a mini Barnes & Noble in there! You might find you have more in common than you think!" He offers.

And I decline : "With a 64-year-old retired engineer from England? Yeah thanks, I'll pass. I'm just gonna stay out of the way, keep my headphones on, and let you two reconnect."

I pull out my phone, pop in my earpods, and open Tumblr, pretending to care at all about the latest posts on the Spencer Reid tag. Out of the corner of my eye I can tell I've hurt his feelings, but fathers never say the right thing, and he can withstand a little sting every once in a while. It's what he deserves for not telling me where we were staying til halfway through the plane ride.

Our plane finally touches down, we funnel through Boulder Municipal into a cab and I won't be the first one to speak. I take one earpod out just in case, which Dad takes as an invitation. "Just got a text from Mr. Reed, and I hope you're hungry Bug, because there. will. be. pie." He beams as though this is some great revelation, elaborating "He's got this wild recipe with earl grey in the crust and lemon zest in the filling, it's award-winning. Seriously! He enters it in the local contest every other year and it's only lost once!"

Despite how riveting my father finds Mr. Reed and his Great British baking exploits, I do not, and apparently it shows as his smile tamps down to a simper. "Sweetie, I'm really trying here. I can't convince you it's gonna be the best Christmas ever, hey, we'll probably both have altitude sickness the entire time, but let's just make an attempt, okay? Nothing has to be perfect." He's an idiot but he's right and I agree. "Okay, yeah. I'll be nice." I sigh "That pie does sound pretty good, I guess..."

The cab rolls through the city of Boulder as Lana lilts gently in my earpods about 'haaa-aa-ow toooo disappear~' and maybe this trip won't be so bad after all.

We're finally dropped at the gate to Mr. Reed's house and -you're fucking kidding me- his driveway, long and winding, is gravel. I wince inwardly at the realization that I'll have to lug two wheeled suitcases up that path and flash Dad a fake 'I'm so glad We're doing this' smile before yanking them out of the trunk and making my way up to the stoop. This pie better be incredible.

Once Dad and I are situated on the stoop, out of breath and travel-weary, I assault Mr. Reed's doorbell. It's cold and I need a shower.

ding. .... nothing. ding-ding. nope. dingdingdingdingdingdingdingding-

The door opens, finally, and a sweet-looking older man in a well composed cardigan-button down combo and jeans answers the door, smiling bright as his eyes fall on Dad.

"Jonathan!!"

"Reed!!"

Laughter ensues as I observe their embrace, holding back a heavy eyeroll. Somehow I am already third-wheeling.

"Oh my god, Mr. Reed, you remember (y/n)? She's just finished a semester at Oxford!" Dad smirks, gesturing to me and I give a shy wave as Mr. Reed's eyes scan over me, widening in surprise.

"(y/n)? As in, little (y/n), (y/n) who was- ?" He holds his hand flat, bringing it down by his knee as he looks between me and dad in disbelief.

"The very same, can you believe it?"

I purse my mouth into a smile, just completely overwhelmed by how awkward this interaction is.

"Well look at you! You've certainly grown up, haven't you?"

"I suppose so!" my best fake laugh.

Mr. Reed's eyes trace my form again and he pulls me into a quick side hug. He's warm and smells like lemon zest with a hint of vanilla.

"Let's get you two in then, supposed to be a blizzard tonight."

He grabs one of my suitcases and we follow him as he shuffles back inside.

His house is simple and a little cramped, but I do smell pie. 'Bless This Mess' reads a framed piece of embroidery on the wall, and if there is a God, I hope he does.

We toss our bags into our respective guest rooms at the top of the stairs and I finally get to take my shower before making a way back downstairs to the dining room.

We sit through a meal -shepherd's pie, what is it with this guy and pie?- and my dad and Mr. Reed discuss people they both know who died or lived or have moved or haven't moved and I am in hell until-

"Little after dinner drink then?"

My eyes snap up from my plate to meet his, a small smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. His eyes crinkle at the ends when he smiles, warm and comforting and it occurs to me for the first time that Mr. Reed is...handsome... If he were 20 years younger he'd definitely be my type, in fact...

"Alright! So that's one, me makes two, Jonathan, little shiraz with your pie?"

"Well how could I say no to such a generous offer?" Dad beams.

We move back into the living room and sip and I pick at the pie. It is good and after a glass and a half of shiraz Mr. Reed looks just as appetizing, but I decide I'm not going to eye-fuck this old man in front of my father, or at least not in an obvious way.

So I sit, tepid, on my phone and pretend not to be bothered by the lack of service while I half listen to their conversation, looking up strategically to ogle Mr. Reed every now and then. His eyes find mine and I watch him nibble at his lip and does he know?

"So then (y/n), Oxford, hm?"

"Uhm, yeah, I'm in their creative writing MFA program right now... its... interesting."

"Interesting boring or interesting incredible?" He crosses one leg over the other and leans in, attentive.

"Uh, I mean it's going well, people in my classes are a little...er.. pretentious..?" I giggle, nervous.

"Exactly as I remember it, then!" He laughs loudly, and dad joins in, snickering along. His laughter is infectious and this wine is making me blush and I smile.

"You're an alum?"

"What, the accent didn't give it away?" A chuckle, "Yeah, yeah, I was lucky enough to take about an eon of courses in engineering sciences there, immigrate in the 90s, build this place, blah blah blah, but enough on me, it seems we may just be in the midst of the next great American novelist, eh Jonathan?" A wink.

"I don't know about that," I tear my eyes away from him, focusing in on the details of a floorboard.

"Oh (y/n) don't be modest, Reed you'd love her stuff, she's got some of the most well-metered prose, and-"

"Dad." I warn, eyes wide with embarrassment.

"Oop, sorry bug," He cringes "Didn't mean to dad-out on ya."

"I'd love to read some of your writing sometime, granted you'd be comfortable enough to share." Mr. Reed interjects.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. Sometime..."

"Can I top you up?"

"Sure." He fills my glass just to the midpoint and does the same for himself.

"Jonathan?" He smirks playfully at dad.

"Ah, I dunno, I should probably be getting some shut-eye actually."

"Aw come on,"

"No, no, these days if im up past 10 with a drink in hand I'll be totally useless the next 24 hours." He stands, patting my shoulder. "Night, y'all. Don't have too much fun without me!" And there go the finger guns so now it's my turn to cringe.

He finally leaves the room and I'm alone with Mr. Reed. There's a heavy silence in the air and I take a small sip of my drink.

"So, (y/n), big on Lana Del Rey I hear?" He smirks.

"One of my favorites." I breathe, forcing a smile.

"Norman Fucking Rockwell or Blue Banisters?"

"NFR."

His eyebrows raise "it's okay to be wrong."

"But I'm not."

"Lust for Life or Born To Die; Paradise Edition?"

"... you ask hard questions, Mr. Reed."

"And you... answer them."

"And if I give you another 'wrong' answer?"

"Why would it matter? Are you trying to impress me?"

"...Paradise." I squint at him.

"Mm, see? We agree on something."

I'm powerless to the smile that forms on my face.

"Yeah?"

He lets out a low laugh. "Yeah,"

"What drew you to her, originally I mean?" He looks me over.

"Well, like a lot of young women I do have the obligatory depression diagnosis and Tumblr account combo, and things spiraled out from there I guess..."

"Ah, and here I thought it was just your ill-suited attraction to old men!" He lets out a warm chuckle at his own joke and I must've misheard him.

"What?" I shift a bit in my place on the couch, called out.

He scoffs. "Come on, (y/n). Let's not play this game. You've been eyeing me up since dinner, sitting there and sipping your drink and sucking berries off your fork in the most salacious way, letting your gaze linger, innocent and doe-eyed yet so apathetic to it all," he rolls his eyes like he might be as well, "when in reality, it seems, correct me if I go wrong, but you've been looking at me all night like you want me to touch you. Is that accurate or am I projecting a fantasy?"

The tip of his tongue trails his lip, my gaze following its path and I'm warm. His eyes search mine, that was supposed to be a question.

"Uhm... no that... that sounds...accurate..." I admit almost silently, eyes boring into the floor as I sheepishly take another sip of my wine.

"Hm. I see. And in front of your father too...tsk, naughty girl. Lucky for you the man's terrible at reading body language or subtext of any variant,"

Mr. Reed rises from his chair across the coffee table and plants himself on the edge of the sofa next to me. "I, however, do not have that problem." I look up at him and his eyes are two blue marbles behind those wireframed glasses, his cheshire smirk enough to melt me, it's overwhelming.

My face grows hot and my body tight as he delicately removes the wineglass from my hand, sets it down on the coffee table, and leans down to kiss me.

He's tender and gentle and his lips are soft, his tongue stained with blueberry filling as it finds mine, and he strokes my cheek. I place a shaky hand on his knee and one of his covers it as he presses his forehead to mine, breaking the spell. "Are you certain this is something you want, (y/n)? I wouldn't want to impose-" I cut him off with another, more assertive kiss because I need this.

The holidays are stressful and I'm horny and he's here. Fuck it.

As we continue making out, Mr. Reed scoots onto the couch beside me and I find his zipper. His dick jumps to meet my hand through the fabric as one of his hands slips under my sweater and he moans at the softness of my breast.

I pull away to unzip his pants and stroke him a couple times before moving to kneel between his legs. I look up to him, reverent, then back down to his cock, throbbing in hand. Giving him a few steady strokes, I lean forward, parting my lips.

"Can I?" I blink.

He nods eagerly, transfixed.

I take as much of him into my mouth as I can and swallow as his tip hits the back of my throat.

I hear him suck in a breath and his hands find my hair as I start to bob my head over the length of him, holding his balls with one hand and methodically stroking his base with the other. His breath catches, ragged and I feel him spasm in my mouth. I need him. I finally come up for air with a gasp and wipe a tendril of spit off my lower lip as I look up at him. "Mr. Reed, I want to fuck you," I breathe.

"Well all you had to do was ask," he sighs and I pull myself up off the floor, undoing my jeans and tugging them off my legs as quickly as I can before tearing off my sweater and within seconds I'm standing before him in just my panties and bralette. His eyes trail over me. His teeth sink into his lower lip as a hand wraps around his dick and I place a knee on either side of his legs, straddling him. Fair is fair and my fingers slip under the hem of my panties so I can work myself for him as he takes me in.

"How do you want me?"

"Turn around."

I follow his blunt instruction and as I do his fingers hook into either side of my panties, pulling the dampened fabric down my legs.

"Now, you're going to squat down for me... slowly."

I do as I'm told and he guides my hips, lining himself up with my center. Mr. Reed rests his hands on the tops of my thighs, pushing me further down into his lap and I gasp as I feel him begin to penetrate me. I knew it was big, I mean, he could barely fit in my mouth, but christ. I swivel my hips in an attempt to adjust to him, and hear him draw in a breath.

"(y/n), I want you to bounce for me, and you. will. not. make. a sound. understood?"

"Y-yes Mr. Reed."

I start to raise and lower myself slowly on him and gasp sharply as I feel myself tense. He holds me steady by my biceps and guides me up and down.

"Good, that's- ohh that is good, just keep going... mm, mhm, just. like. that. you. Are. Brilliant..." he murmurs, squeezing my ass and I bite back a moan

"Shhhh-shh..."

"Ssorry Mr. Reed," I manage quietly.

He continues to guide my movements, faster now, and I watch his head tip against the back of the couch. His cock twitches inside me and gasp sharply.

"(y/n), stand for me?" And I do.

He turns me around by my hips and I blink down at Mr. Reed and he's panting, glasses perched on top of his head, looking me over hungrily.

"Lay back on the couch here, pet."

He sets a pillow down for me to rest my head on and I do as he says, watching him part my legs, settling between them as he presses gentle kisses up my inner thighs, staring intently into my eyes as he does.

He hovers over my core and I gasp at the warmth of his breath. I watch Mr. Reed's eyes close for a moment as he inhales the scent of my sex and smirks to himself.

"Does your pussy taste like Pepsi Cola then, (y/n)?" He lets out a low chuckle at his own corny little quip, bringing his mouth closer "Shall we find out?"

He pins my thighs open and slowly licks a wide stripe up my vulva from entrance to clit. I can't hold back the whimper that slips from me at the heat of his tongue, and it's even harder to silence msyelf when he dips two fingers into me, curling the pads of his fingertips just slightly as he steadily works me, his tongue moving in a synced rythym against my clit.

The sensation is almost too much and I gasp as I feel myself spasm a couple times around his fingers. He hums into me and the vibration sends a shudder through my body. He tilts his head up, panting as he continues fingering me, and my hips arch up to meet his hand.

He removes his fingers, pressing them against the plush of my lower lip and into my mouth. I suck and lick impatiently, and before long his mouth is on mine again as I feel his cock slip back into me. I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips as he begins to slowly rock his hips into mine.

"Mister Reed?" I breathe

"Mm?"

"It's... you're just...so big...." He smirks.

"Oh, I'm aware dear." He picks up his pace some "You're taking me so well, though..." he presses a kiss into the side of my neck and I gasp.

"Being so good for me..."

A loud creak interrupts us from overhead and Mr. Reed stops moving, eyes glued upwards as he clamps his hand over my mouth.

Heavy footsteps make the floorboards groan above us as he slowly starts to fuck me again and I take in a sharp breath through my nostrils, looking up at him, panicked.

"Shhh, shh-" another low creak.

Mr. Reed quickens his thrusts and I involuntarily whine against his hand which finds it's way to my neck instantly, holding firm.

"I said. Be quiet." He whispers sternly.

I bite my lip in an effort not to cry out, nodding and I begin to feel that familiar tension coiling inside as he bucks into me, my mind going totally blank at the way his hand feels wrapped around my throat.

The footsteps and floorboards finally stop, his grip on my neck releases some, and a warm haze overtakes my body as he continues to forcefully piston into me. I feel myself starting to tense up and struggle for breath as I unwind completely under him.

Seconds later, Mr. Reed lets out a low groan and I feel his orgasm pulse out acutely within me as I weather my own.

We lay there for a few minutes and as we come down together, the weight of our indiscretion settles in some.

I've just fucked my dad's best friend. Three days before Christmas. And I liked it. A lot.

"Needed.. that..." I huff.

"I could tell," he chortles.

Mr. Reed slips out of me, grabbing one of the discarded linen napkins from the coffee table to clean himself off with, before gently tucking it between my legs.

"Oh, and... it does, by the way."