#but yeah the toys are cheap and stupid

[electricea]

also i don't know if america has kinder eggs (i heard they got banned there) but fucking amazing chocolate too, forget about the toy, just give me the chocolate.

[eats-the-stars]

hate my sister's shitty good for nothing boyfriend. can you imagine being a 30yo man with two kids who won't even scramble an egg. Not for his kids, not for his girlfriend, not for himself. literally if my sister doesn't leave out pre-made meals when he's watching the kids he will rip up bread or pour them dry cereal or open a granola bar and make himself microwave dinners. like, lowest effort possible. but if i mention this to my sis, she'll be like "no he's definitely cooked for the kids! he scrambled an egg for them once! i watched him do it!" but it's like...so he scrambled one egg in the last five years. just to like, prove he can? at your direct insistence? should we all clap? like seriously. hate this guy. had to really hold back recently because he had someone over and he was interacting with the kids more than usual for appearances, and he had to keep asking me and my sis what the 5yo was signing because he barely bothered to learn his own son's primary form of communication. i was so tempted to say "that one means 'go home' but you wouldn't know that because you don't take them anywhere." so hard to hold that in. If I had to describe this man in two words they would be these: Low Effort. Not quite bare minimum, but JUST enough to convince my sister that it would be too much hassle to get rid of him. he's stupid as fuck, but just smart enough to quickly stop shit like screaming obscenities at the kids for doing normal kid things. and he once stomped on my headphones and broke them in a fit of rage, but gave my sister money to replace them so it was "fine." Like, my sister thinks that he's just struggling with his anger issues, because he had a bad childhood, blah, blah, and oh he would never actually hurt her or the kids. and like, good for you, but i don't trust like that. genuinely hoping he gets struck by lightning and dies instantly.

[chestharrington]

For A Good Time Call! || Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 14.6k

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Phone Sex Hotline Operator!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (phone sex, m & f masturbation (including pillow humping & sex toys), f!receiving oral sex, p in v sex), language, idiots in love, mutual pining, porn WITH plot

Summary: In the Summer of 1985, Steve's social standing is at an all time low. In an act of sheer, pathetic desperation, he calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know, his dream girl from the hotline is just an escalator away.

Steve Harrington wasn’t the kind of guy who did this. He repeated it in his head as he scribbled down the phone number— fed straight to him from a local late-night advertisement. For a good time call!

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant. And he wasn’t exactly able to ignore the way his dick twitched in his boxers as the commercial showed pretty girls twirling phone lines around manicured fingers, pretty smiles on their faces, eyes sultry and staring right through him. 

Plus, he wasn’t actually going to call. He was just… keeping the number for his records. He’d just put it in his Rolodex and forget about it. 

A week later, and he decidedly hadn’t forgotten about it. In fact, with the house empty and playboys not cutting it, it’s all he could think about. 

For a good time call. He wanted to have a good time. It had been a while since he had a good time— his stupid Scoops Ahoy uniform wasn’t exactly bolstering his natural charm. Robin could say what she wanted, but he was charming and fun and everything people usually want in a boyfriend. He was just… going through a rough patch. 

He retrieved his Rolodex and hurriedly flipped through, trying to remember where he’d hidden the number. Definitely not around his boss. And not around Nancy either. Tucked between Tommy and a past hookup, he found it. 

He set up his pillows behind his back and got comfortable before dialing the number with uncharacteristically sweaty hands. He was cooler than this was all making him seem. He was the playboy of Hawkins High— of Hawkins in general. Phone sex was nothing. 

As he dialed the number, he prepared to turn on his charm. Instead, he was led to a generic call-center script, which, after being carefully followed based on his wants and desires, took him to billing. 

“It’s a flat rate of twenty for your first ten minutes. If you finish before then, it’s still twenty, alright?”

He swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“After that, it’s fifty cents per minute. An hour session will run you about $55.” Oh. It certainly wasn’t cheap. He’d spent less on dates before. “Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah,” he said after a brief pause, his mind taking a while to catch up. “Do you need my credit card?”

By the time billing was over, his anticipation had tangled his stomach into knots. He glanced at the clock, wondering if those ten minutes would fly past him as fast as he thought they would. The line trilled as he waited to be connected to his partner for the night. Jenny. Like the song.

That song was gross, anyway. But how could he say anything about it now?

The ringing stopped, and he could hear the crackle of a quiet line on the other side, the rustle of movement. Did he need to say hi first? Was trying to start a conversation weird?

“Hi,” he said, and he wondered how he could make one word sound so utterly stupid. “Jenny, right?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. He could picture you so clearly, despite knowing nothing— one of those pretty girls in the commercials, laying on your belly on a frilly pink bed, fingernails and toenails painted a shiny red, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What should I call you?”

He swallowed. “Do people usually give you fake names?”

“Sometimes,” you replied. “It’s not about what other people do, baby. It’s about what you want. Do you want me to call you by a fake name?”

He wrinkled his nose. What was the worst thing that could come from a stranger knowing his first name? “No, that sounds awful. No offense.” You laughed, and he felt himself relax. “I’m Steve H—“ He cleared his throat. “Just Steve.”

“Well, I’m glad that I get to talk to you tonight Steve,” you said, and just the sultry timbre of your voice made his stomach do flips. “I’m guessing this is your first time?”

He furrowed his brows. “I’m not a virgin.”

“No, baby. I mean it seems like it’s your first time calling a hotline like this.” His face burned hot as he fumbled his way through answering, oh, yeah, I guess that’s right. “So, sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you want?”

“Uh…” he paused, trying to think of a more polite way of saying to cum while a pretty girl talks to me. “I guess I’ve just been lonely.”

“Poor baby,” you said, and he was shocked that you didn’t have even a hint of amusement or mirth when you said it. “You want me to take care of you? Help you forget?”

His breath caught in his throat, stealing his response. His dick twitched, already half-hard and sensitive. All he could manage was a tiny whimper of, “Mhmm.”

“What do you usually think about when you’re touching yourself?” You asked, and the lack of shame in your voice made heat flare in his cheeks. He’d had some shameless hookups, but most of the girls he slept with didn’t like to talk about it. “Like, what’s your favorite fantasy, Steve?”

It was embarrassing. Mortifying, actually. It was basically the plot of a bad porno or a letter to Penthouse. 

Usually, it started by his pool. And a girl was there, wearing a cute, but ultimately tiny, bikini. The girl didn’t really matter. Well, she did, but it wasn’t about who she was. She could have been a Playmate of the Month, or a movie star, or a girl he was crushing on and wanted to ask out. All that mattered for the sake of the fantasy, was that she was pretty, had nice tits, and wanted him. 

“Does that make me awful?” He asked, pausing mid-description to gauge your perception of him. You laughed on the other end of the line. 

“God, Steve,” you said with thinly veiled amusement. “You think I give a personality and backstory to all of the people I fantasize about fucking?”

It made him feel a little better.

Anyways, there was something about summertime that just made sense to him. Skin all but steaming in the heat, the oiled up glow that came from sweaty skin. Wearing as few clothes as possible so you didn’t overheat. 

You gave a nervous laugh— breathy and sweet— on the other end of the line. “You’re really good at setting the scene, Steve.” He liked to be specific. He wanted to think about tiny details like the salty taste of skin or hair that smelled like chlorine and salt. “What’s next?”

She always started by laying on her stomach, the ties of her bikini undone so she didn’t get unsightly tan lines. She would peer at him over her shoulder with wide, innocent eyes while she asked if he could apply a bit more sunscreen on her back where she couldn’t reach. 

So he straddled her thighs, her skin burning up under his hands as he rubbed in the freezing cold sunscreen. Goosebumps would break out along her arms, and she’d have to arch away from the sensation, pushing her ass against him. 

“Are you hard already?” You asked, and his cheeks burned hot. 

“Like…” He glanced at his lap, where his cock was already straining against the fabric of his boxers. “In the fantasy or right now?”

“Is the answer the same for both?”

He let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Keep going.”

He was already impatient. Skipped right to the kissing and cut out the context and actions that led to it. Did it matter? The bikini top fell onto the ground, and she was on top of him, tits pressed into his sun-warmed chest, tongue licking into his mouth. 

God, he fucking loved kissing. He’d missed it so much since he’d graduated and his social clout had depleted to fuck all. There had been dates, and messy, slow makeouts in the back of his car since walking the stage, but not one since his first shift at Scoops Ahoy. It was killing him.

She felt so good in his lap— so warm and heavy. He could have stayed like that forever— trapped beneath a pretty girl with her tongue down his throat. But he wanted more— he always wanted more. 

He wanted more then. As he relayed his fantasy to this stranger in painstaking detail, he ached for more. His hand was flat on his tummy, and he shivered as he slipped it beneath the band of his boxers to take his cock into his hand. He groaned, the back of his head knocking against the wall.

“God, you’re cute,” your voice was so pretty. He throbbed in his grip, making him exhale a shuddering breath. “It’s okay, Steve. You can keep touching yourself while you talk to me. I want you to.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, his voice broken by a tiny whimper. “I don’t have to.”

“I’m sure, baby,” you insisted. “What do you do next, hm? I’m on top of you, kissing you nice and slow, grinding my hips against yours because I just can’t help myself. Tell me what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’d—“ He swallows hard, eyes shut tight. “I’d want to taste you.”

In the fantasy, his hands gripped the back of your thighs, moving you up his body so you were just above his mouth. He was suave and sexy. He’d pull the bow at your hip with his teeth so your swim bottoms fell off like they were nothing. 

And it would feel so comfortable beneath you— so natural for him. He’d just barely have to lean forward to have his mouth on you, already wet so he could taste you on his tongue. He’d moan at your taste— he fucking loved the way pussy tasted, even if he got shit for it in the locker room when he admitted it— and pull you down onto his mouth so he could get impossibly closer. 

It would be messy— a mix of spit and slick on his mouth and chin, making the tip of his nose shine. He’d spend as long as he wanted beneath you, pulling every noise he could from your lips, trapped between your thighs. He wouldn’t stop until you came— once at a minimum, more if he was feeling greedy.

“All this attention on little old me,” you teased. “Would you let me take care of you? I could slip off those swim trunks of yours and make you feel good.”

He had set a steady pace— hand gliding up and down his length as his fantasy continued to evolve. “Yeah,” he managed, but his voice came out strangled and desperate. “You’d put your hand down my shorts and tease me. Your hand would feel so good. Warm and soft. You’d, uh, tell me how big I am, how you wanted to feel me stretch your uh— your—.”

“My what, baby?” Your voice dripped with amusement and mirth. “My pussy?”

“Fuck.” It came out with an exhale, his heart hammering.

“You like it when girls say dirty things to you, Steve?” You asked, and he could hear your smirk. “You want me to beg for your cock so deep inside of me that I feel you in my stomach? Or tell you how warm and wet and tight I feel around my fingers?”

Steve groaned, throbbing in his grip as he worked himself faster. “Fuck, are you really?”

“Mhmm,” you replied. “Think about how good I’d feel when you finally let yourself fuck me. You were such a gentleman first, but you don’t have to be with me. I want to make this all about you.”

But he was a gentleman. Of course he wanted to get his dick wet and et cetera, but that wasn’t really why he liked sex. He liked making people feel good all because of him— hearing the pretty noises they made, watching their initial shyness melt away into unabashed desire. 

A lot of the time (most of the time), he felt like a huge fuck-up. Abysmal grades (well, more around average), not good enough for sports scholarships, basically every bit the son that his parents didn’t want to have. Who could really blame him for relishing in the times when he could be good and impressive to someone other than himself?

Whatever. If he thought about that train of thought for more than, like, ten seconds, he’d lose his hard-on and probably start crying into the receiver and spilling all of his life’s worst moments. He really couldn’t imagine anything more pathetic than that. 

So he thought about something else. 

He thought about how he’d lay you down on a beach towel, warmed in the sun, cradled by plush grass beneath it. He’d feel awkward about shucking off his swim trunks— he always hated undressing because it felt so awkward. But you’d look at him like he was the most attractive guy in the whole world. 

He was a sap, what could he say? He would hold your hand too, squeezing it with his as he lined up with your entrance. You’d be so wet that it felt slick and he’d feel proud just knowing he did that to you.

When he finally pushed into you, your eyes would be locked on his, warm with emotion, like the entire world just melted away. And how could he not kiss you? When everything felt so good and your legs were wrapped around his waist and each breath was punctuated by soft, desperate sounds? 

It would feel special. With your foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. He just wants to be as close to you as possible— needs to feel every inch of your skin, sweaty and sun-warmed, against his. He’d just… bury himself deep inside of you and grind into you. It felt more intimate that way.

He could feel himself getting close. A furrow formed between his brows as he chased his high. Moans broke up his words as he brought himself closer and closer. 

“I’d— fuck— I’d rub your clit. Make you cum before I got there. It’d feel so— so fucking good too. It always feels so good. Oh god. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Go ahead, baby. I want to hear you.”

His entire body shuddered as he came, spilling messily onto his belly and chest. It felt like it lasted forever— that warm, perfect feeling of reaching his peak. He was panting as he came down, stroking himself until overstimulation made him whimper. 

“Fuck… maybe I should pay you for that,” you said after a beat. “Did it feel good, Steve?  Feel a little less lonely?”

“Mhmm,” he replied. He was spent— already feeling languid and heavy. “That was… Really perfect.”

“I’m glad.” You paused again,  and he spent that time trying to catch his breath. “I’m on every night around this time. Like, from around ten to two. I’d like to hear more of your fantasies, maybe even act one out with you, if you’d want that?”

His heart hammered, and he felt incredibly stupid as a blush crept up his neck and cheeks. “Yeah, I’ll call you again soon.”

When you said your good nights, he laid back against his pillows. The dial tone played over the speakers as he stared up at his ceiling, spend cooling on his tummy. Leave it to King Steve to fall for someone he had to pay to talk to.

Your eyelids drooped as you manned the checkout counter at Waldenbooks, one of few stores at the mall that could actually be found vacant during a busy summer day. Last night had been a late one— it didn’t help that you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve, your mystery caller. 

It felt stupid to get hung up on the type of guy who had to call a hotline to get his rocks off, especially when you knew precious little about him. You had his name, his general location, that he had a pool, and he had a nice voice. 

Your bangs lifted as you blew a puff of air out the side of your lips, slowly going insane to the sound of Muzak playing softly through the speakers. 

Steve… Did you know any Steve’s? Steve Crandall got into a motorcycle wreck the year after graduation and died. Then there was Steve Odell who moved off to California on some crazy tech idea he swore was going to change the world. Steven Ferris? He seemed like the type, but there was no way he owned a pool since you were pretty sure he lived in the basement of some old couple’s house. That wiped out your graduating class, at least. 

From your perspective on the second floor, you had a perfect view of the fine piece of ass working the ice cream parlor. He was cute— definitely younger than you by a couple of years— and the stupid costume they had him in surprisingly did it for you. You could watch him mop up spilled sorbet all day and it’d be jerk-off material for the next week. 

  He had nice biceps. And thighs. Fucking hell, the things you’d do to get between those and —

“New releases?” You snap your gaze to the other side of the counter, where a woman with pink lipstick on her teeth looks at you impatiently. 

You plastered on a winning smile and pointed a manicured finger to the other side of the store. “That big shelf on the left-hand wall over there,” you said with saccharine sweetness. “Anything else that I can help you with, ma’am?” 

She frowned and you fought a grin. There was nothing that women pushing forty hated more than being called ma’am. You might as well have been telling them they had a foot in the grave. 

The day passed by with minimal hiccups. You convinced someone to buy your favorite book, so that was a win. And you’d gotten to restock the fun pencils. You clocked out and shrugged off the vest you wore on top of your normal clothes and took your hair down from its ponytail to hang loose on your shoulders. Your perm was kind of killing you. It never sat just how you wanted, almost like it had a mind of its own. 

You made your way out of the mall with a brief glance towards Scoops Ahoy, which was notably missing the hot guy you’d been lusting after since your first day on the job. With a dejected sigh, you escaped the crowded, piercingly loud mall and stepped into the hot summer air. 

Most people (or, more accurately, children) were heading for the busses that would shuttle people back into the town square or their respective neighborhoods, but your car waited for you in the exclusive Employees Only lot in the shade. As you turned to head that way, you bumped straight into a tall, firm figure. 

Huh, you thought. He smells like hot fudge and maraschino cherries. I like those things.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were headed for the bus like everyone else.”

You looked up, squinting against the sun, and felt heat flood your cheeks when you realized that it was the hot ice cream scooper. “Oh, it’s, uh—“ you stammered nervously. It was never as easy as the phone line. “I was too.” You wanted to hit yourself. What the hell were you even talking about?

His brows furrowed. “You were what?“

Fuck. “I… uh— don’t know,” you finally said, ready for the conversation to end forever. “I’ll see you around.” And you were gone. You almost missed him calling after you.

You will?

But you pretended you’d never heard it. 

——

Steve called at midnight, just as you brewed your second cup of coffee of the night. You took a quick sip as the call was directed your way, already feeling much more awake in anticipation of what lay ahead. 

“Hey, Steve,” you greeted, adjusting your voice to that casual, sexy cadence that you had perfected. “I was thinking about you all day today.”

Steve responded with a dismissive psh. “I’m going to pretend that’s true, because I was thinking of you too,” he said, and you could hear his grin. “I kept screwing up at work because I’d get distracted thinking about you.”

You felt heat creep into your cheeks. “Baby, you’ll make me blush.” You paused, chewing on your lip briefly. “So… what’s in the cards for tonight, Steve? What do you want to do with me?”

He paused so long that you almost thought the call had dropped, but eventually he worked up the nerve to continue. “Well, you heard my fantasy last time. This time I want to hear yours.”

You snorted a laugh. “Steve, baby, that’s so incredibly sweet, but you could hate it, or think it’s boring, and then I’ll feel guilty for wasting your money.”

“I won’t,” he insisted. “C’mon, it’ll help us get to know each other better.”

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your tummy already fluttering with thoughts of the hot sailor shelling out dollar ice cream cones with extra sprinkles on top. 

Fuck. 

“Alright, but if you hate it, you’ve gotta promise me that you’ll tell me to shut up and we’ll do something else.” He hummed in affirmation and you laid back against your pillows, sighing as you closed your eyes and fell into your newfound, perfect little fantasy. 

“So… when I’m not doing sexy phone calls, I work a menial job,” you begin. “And normally, I’d be, like, wearing an ugly polo or vest or something with our logo on it, but for the sake of sexiness, let’s say that I’m wearing a cute little dress and my hair looks, like, perfect.”

“What does your hair look like normally?” Steve asked, hung up on the one detail that was specifically for your sake. God, you wanted to burn your local salon to the ground. 

“Uh,” you paused, wondering if you should tell the truth. “So I told my hairstylist to go for Kelly LeBrock and she… you know… tried. It looks so cute sometimes, and then other times it has a total mind of its own.”

“Oh, Kelly LeBrock! She’s such a babe. I saw the trailer for that movie she’s gonna be in. Total fox. Great hair.”

You tried to fight a smile, but couldn’t. “Do you wanna talk hair routines, or do you want me to keep going?”

Steve paused like he was genuinely considering it. “We’ll come back to the hair. I could probably help you figure it out, you know. I’ve got great hair.”

You smirked. “Oh, yeah? Where?”

“Use your imagination.”

You grinned. Oh, I am.

You were stocking shelves, as usual— except this time you couldn’t reach the top shelf. Standing on your tiptoes, the hemline of your skirt inching up and up and up. And suddenly there was a presence behind you, reaching up to stock the shelf for you. He smelled really nice, felt warm pressed up against your back.

“Am I the handsome stranger in this scenario?”

You said yes, even though you were mostly thinking about your mystery sailor from the mall. God, even the stupid uniform did it for you. Maybe it was the short shorts.

In the fantasy, the two of you didn’t even talk— really, your fantasies were typically pretty straight to the point, unlike Steve’s. The plot and dialogue would get skipped, and then suddenly, your back was pressed against the ridges of the shelves and the handsome stranger was on his knees in front of you, kissing sloppily up your thighs. 

Usually, you’d have some sense of control— keep your hands above the belt. It was better for you that way. It gave you a sense of separation from what was real and what was happening on the phone. And, really, you never really had a particular need to touch yourself while you were handling the calls anyway. 

And yet… Your hand slipped past the elastic hand of your panties, between your thighs where you were already wet and needy from just your own imagination. You gasped into the phone, bucking your hips into your own touch. 

Steve made a choked sound, crackly through the phone’s speakers. He knew exactly what you were doing. 

“Getting all worked up thinking about it, huh?” He asked, and you could hear a slight rustling and movement as he got himself undressed. It was honestly puzzling that it took that long, or that he didn’t call already ready to go. “Sound so pretty.”

You weren’t even aware that you were making a significant amount of noise, but Steve had keyed into it easily, hanging onto every sigh and whimper. 

In your fantasy, his mouth was absolutely fucking sinful. He would moan against your cunt, nuzzling against your clit with his nose as he lapped up your slick. It was sloppy, and the sounds he made could have made the devil himself blush a burning red. His chin and mouth would drip with the combination of your juices and his spit— his fingernails leaving crescents in your thighs from where he held you tight. 

When he looked up at you from between your thighs, his gaze would be equal parts hungry and sweet. He wanted it to feel good for you because the more you get off, the better it felt for him too. When he felt you getting closer and closer, he moved his fingertip to your entrance, teasing you with featherlight grazes that gathered your essence. He pressed in, just to his first knuckle, and relished in the way you would clench around him at the smallest intrusion before he gave it to you entirely.

Despite the shitty quality of the phone, which was probably your fault, since you had owned it since at least ‘78, you could hear the slick sounds of him stroking himself to your words. And, for once, you relished in that noise across the line. 

You pushed a finger inside of yourself, then a second. Most guys you’d been with got that far then jammed them in and out at a wrist-killing speed until you faked it. Your thing was always just keeping them still, pressing against the sweet spot just barely a few inches inside. Paired with the dizzying pleasure of attention to your clit, the sensation was electric and all-consuming. 

It felt too good to stop, and yet you knew you needed to make it through your fantasy before you came and that precious euphoria rushed over you. Because after the euphoria came that strange sense of disgust, and you couldn’t really afford to spend the rest of the call grossed out by what you were doing. 

“Fuck, anyways,” you began, your breath coming in short pants. “He— you— would take off your shorts.” Stupid, tiny, tight shorts. “And, fuck, you’d already be so hard and needy. You just wanted me so bad. You would press me against the shelf and when you push into me it’d be so easy and slick and I’d feel so full.”

Your cunt pulsed around your fingers, so close to the edge that you could almost swear you were already over it. The precipice was so nice you almost didn’t mind waiting for it. You would hear Steve fucking his hand, pretty moans and grunts passing his lips as he brought himself closer. It wasn’t really fair to leave either one of you hanging much longer. 

“You’d kiss me. And it would be a little messy, but we wouldn’t care. You’d taste good, and you’d feel good. Fuck, Steve. I need to cum so bad.”

He panted into the phone and you practically mewled. God, he sounded so much better than the gross old men you usually had to deal with. “Fuck, I’m right here with you,” he managed, his voice breathy and desperate. “Let me hear you.”

Your ears rang as you came, making the world go a bit fuzzy. Distantly, you could hear how pretty Steve sounded as he came. Honestly, you’d never been one to relish in that type of thing— most guys you’d hooked up with kind of grossed you out. But, god, you’d give anything to watch him get off. Your chest heaved, rising and falling with a shiny sheen of sweat.

“So…” Steve began, sounding a little more languid and a lot more blissed out. There was a sweet, carefree quality to his voice. “Your fantasy is having sex at work?”

You rolled your eyes and fought a grin. “Hey, I didn’t judge your hot, sweaty poolside fuck session.”

”That was about making love,” He insisted. Your heart stuttered a bit. You had to admit that was sweet. “And I’m not knocking your fantasy— I just can’t even imagine someone wanting to have sex with me in my uniform.”

You grinned. “Aw, you have a uniform? I bet you look really sexy in it.”

He huffed, an annoyed groan escaping his lips. “No, I hate my uniform and I’m counting the days until I can rip it off and throw it in, like, a bonfire.”

“I can help with the ripping it off part, y’know,” you teased. 

“No,” he said firmly. “No, we’re not going there, because, one, I came so much I can’t even think about getting hard again or my dick will hurt, and two, if I start having workplace fantasies about you and my uniform I’ll get hard on the job and end up on a registry somewhere.”

“Alright, alright,” you said with a laugh. “I had fun tonight, Steve. I, uh, don’t really get a lot of people asking what I like. I don’t get anyone asking what I like, actually.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m just a pleaser, I guess.” 

He said his goodnights just before hanging up, promising to call again soon. You didn’t have a clear idea of when soon was. You’d had long-term customers promise a call soon that just dropped off the face of the earth. You laid there listening to the dial tone until it started to hurt your ears, then put the phone back on the receiver.

The bed creaked on its ancient springs as you got up, padding out into the hallway. Outside the big window at the end of the hall, you saw a lamp switch off across the street, making the house go dark. It felt a little comforting to know that boring old Hawkins was awake just like you were. 

In the bathroom, you washed your hands with cotton candy-scented soap and tugged at your misbehaving curls. Maybe you would take up Steve on his hair tips. Before you could think about Steve any longer, your phone rang again. And though part of you wished it would be Steve, you knew that there was such a thing as too soon to be ‘soon.’

There wasn’t really a point in pouting. It was decent money. You answered the phone, put on your fake voice, and got to work. 

Steve called nearly nightly for the next month. If having a backyard school wasn’t proof enough he was loaded, his ability to pay your rates nightly sealed the deal. 

It wasn’t always sexual. Well, to be fair, it was mostly sexual. No matter how much you looked forward to phone sex with Steve, you enjoyed talking to him just as much. You learned about his childhood dog, Walter, and his allegedly prodigy-like swimming skills. He was CPR certified, could say his ABCs in French (and nothing else), and loved the colors red, yellow, and blue.

You told him what you could without giving too much away. That Jenny, obviously, wasn’t your real name. Your favorite color, favorite book, favorite flower. You told him that you were in college, going back in the fall. That you only started doing this gig because textbooks were expensive and you wanted to be able to feed yourself while at school. 

Without meaning to, you started to care about Steve. It was probably stupid, and definitely against everything you thought you stood for. But somehow, he managed to squeeze into the recesses of your brain and set up camp there. Try as you might, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

“Alright, little Stevie, that’s your fifth wistful sigh of the day,” Robin said, marking a tally on her palm. It struck him as weird that she was counting, but it wasn’t exactly anything new. “You’ve gotta stop or I might actually start feeling bad for you.”

His chin rested in his hand, and he looked over at her with wide puppy dog eyes. “Can you love someone you’ve never met?”

Robin shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not, why?”

He sighed again, his shoulders sagging. “What if my dream girl isn’t exactly accessible? Like… she’s impossible to find and might not even live in Hawkins. She might live in, like, Indianapolis.”

Robin’s expression— the slight squint of her eyes and downturn to her lips— told him she didn’t particularly care. But the store was dead on a boring Tuesday, so digging into Steve’s life was about the only interesting thing to do on the job. 

“That sucks,” she said slowly. “How do you know this mystery soulmate?”

Steve blanched, picking at his nails as he tried to consider a reasonable excuse. “Uh… Blind setup. Very blind setup.” Robin raised an eyebrow. “I only know her number, nothing else.”

“Name?” Steve shook his head glumly. “Damn. But you think you love this girl?” Steve nodded again, but felt a little dumb. He never did things in half-measures. Never felt things that way either, so it made sense to him, but maybe it was a little crazy. 

He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. He wanted to help you with your bad perm and give you advice about how to take care of it. He wanted to surprise you at your boring job with lunch and flowers. It had been a long time since he’d been this excited about someone. 

A tinny beeping sound made him jolt, nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor. Finally. He didn’t hesitate to tear off his work shirt, leaving him in the shorts and the white tee shirt he kept beneath it for this very reason— not having to walk out in public in full uniform.

He offered a quick bye to Robin and clocked out as quickly as he could. It had been only a week since Jenny had told him her favorite book, and he’d been saving up tips to pay for a copy at Waldenbooks. 

There was a girl behind the counter with a messy ponytail that had half-fallen-out, music blaring from her headphones. It must’ve been a mixtape because it went from some Hall and Oates song to an older Queen one. A little disjointed, but not in bad taste. She was completely immersed in the novel in her hand, so much so that she didn’t notice his presence.

“Excuse me?” He asked, putting on a winning smile. 

“What?” The girl in front of him blinked in surprise and tugged the headphones down around her neck. The music continued— saxophone and a dance beat. Staying Power. He liked that one. Once she’d paused it abruptly, she looked at him again, and he saw a glint of something in her eyes, like she recognized him.

“I’m looking for this book—“ He withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket, where he had scribbled the title down as Jenny told him about it. “Do you know if it’s in stock?”

She looked at the note, then chewed on her lip anxiously. “Mhmm.” She watched him again, like she was expecting something. It took a moment, but it clicked. 

She’s the girl who bumped into him outside a month ago and said weird stuff! “Oh! You were right, I guess. About seeing me around.” He squinted, reading her name tag aloud. 

“Hm?” She blinked a few times, like she was taken out of a daydream. “Oh. Yeah, sorry about all of that. I just had a long day and my brain was fried.”

He nodded. “I get that,” he replied. “Next thing I know I’ll wake up from scooping ice cream in my sleep.” She laughed at that, a smile splitting across her features. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Her expression faltered, just the tiniest bit. Almost enough that he wouldn’t notice, especially since she corrected it just as quickly. “I’ll go grab that book for you, ‘Kay? Just… stay here.”

She disappeared into the shelves, leaving him standing awkwardly at the counter. The store was oddly empty— he would’ve at least expected some nerdy kids like Dustin to be rooting around. When she returned, she seemed more nervous than before.

“Here, just take it—“ She said, shoving a beat-up-looking copy at him. His brows furrowed as he looked down at the copy in his hands. The cover was bent and torn in places. Corners of pages were dog eared, sticky note tabs stuck out from pages, and he could see glimpses of pen and highlighter. Noticing his confusion, she elaborated. “We’re out, but I had an old copy in my bag. I’ve already read it, so you can borrow it.”

He furrowed his brows. “Is that, like… allowed?”

“Probably!” She said with a startling lack of confidence. She swallowed, giving him an awkward smile. “Just bring it back when you’re done.”

He hesitated. “Uh… okay. Thanks.” He turned to walk away when she called out after him. 

 “Bye, Steve.” 

He wondered why that sounded so familiar. 

Fuck. 

“I mean… what are the odds?” You spoke aloud as you paced your room. When your reflection caught your attention, you felt, and looked, like a madwoman. “It’s not him. It’s not him, and I’m not going to worry about it.”

Five minutes later, you sat up in bed, unable to focus on the book you were reading. It was going to keep bothering you unless you did at least a little digging. But, Jesus, where did you even start with something like this?

“Hey, Rhonda?” You called, popping your head out of your room. “Do you remember any hot underclassmen named Steve from high school?”

Rhonda Finley was the prettiest girl from the class of ‘83. And it wasn’t an exaggeration either, seeing as she was voted Most Beautiful and Miss Hawkins within the same school year. The fact that you were even friends felt like a strange coincidence, but there you both were regardless. 

She carried all of her yearbooks into your room, settling onto the fluffy rug beside your bed. 

“You said his name is Steve?” She asked from her spot on the floor. She flipped through the old yearbook with reverence— pausing to look at photos of herself on other pages. “Steve… stevestevesteve. What about Stephen Cranston? He did the morning announcements, he was decent.”

You glanced at his picture briefly and shook your head. “No, not him,” you replied. “He’s cuter. Uh… boyish is a good word to describe him. Sharp nose and warm eyes.”

Rhonda snorted, flipping another page. “Okay, Shakespeare.” 

You chewed on your lip, watching her tab through until you made a squeak of recognition. The faintest glimpse of a younger Steve in a picture of a home economics class. “Ronnie, flip back,” you said, tapping her shoulder insistently. She did as you said and you pointed. “That’s him. Younger, but it’s him.”

She squinted, reading the small caption. “Sophomore Steve Harrington cooks up trouble in Mrs. Destefano’s Home Ec class!’” She laughed and flipped until she found the sophomore class portraits. “Yep. Steven Harrington.”

You sat back on your heels. “Huh.”

She closed the yearbook and glanced back at you. “I think I went to a pool party of his once,” Ronnie said, brows furrowed as she tried to find the memory. “He was friends with that freckle-y kid that my asshole ex was friends with. God, that was the night when we got into that screaming match and we broke up for like a month before he was begging for another chance.”

Pool party? You felt a knot in your stomach that you weren’t even sure you could have untangled at that point. Was it even possible that your mystery cute phone guy was the unbelievably attractive ice cream scooper at the mall?

No chance. You weren’t that lucky. And yet… maybe a seed of hope took root in your chest. And maybe… maybe you could get him to spill enough details to prove it. 

——

Steve called you around midnight. Your heart leapt into your throat as you answered, thrumming and threatening to burst from nerves. 

“Hey.” His voice was soft, a little tired. “I, uh, thought about you today.”

You could picture him so clearly— his soft hair, long legs, boyish charm. “Hope I wasn’t too distracting. Were you working today? What do you do?” You dug a little deeper with the question, trying to suss out any information you could. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “I work in food service at a mall I live near. It’s nothing to write home about, I guess, but it’s temporary until I start applying for the spring semester.”

Okay, so there’s no doubt about it anymore. It was Steve Harrington, the hot ice cream scooper in the sailor suit, who was calling your line every night. The same Steve Harrington who you’d bumped into twice after your shift. 

You tried to push that aside and focus on the reason for the call. 

“So I was a welcome distraction, then?”

He laughed. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t.” He paused. “Did you, uh… think about me?”

The hope in his voice made your heart swell. “Of course I thought about you, baby. You’re my favorite caller.” You paused, debating your next move. “I’ve been thinking about getting you all needy and desperate for me all day. About hearing your pretty sounds.”

He fucking whimpered. “I’ve spent the entire night hard just waiting to call you.” You could hear him shuffle around on the other end of the call, presumably stripping off his remaining layers. “Didn’t want to be too desperate and call too fast.”

“Poor baby,” you cooed. “Can you do something for me? It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

“Mhmm.”

“Grab a pillow and lay on your stomach for me,” you instructed. Without hesitation, you could hear the staticky sound of movement on his end as he shifted. “This might sound weird, but—“

“You want me to… to like—“ he stammered nervously. “Hump it?”

You blanched, wondering if your perverse fantasies of the hot mall guy getting off had perhaps pushed him a bit too far. “I mean…. Only if you’re into it. We can do something else.”

“No,” he said quickly. “No, I’ve… I mean— I’ve done it before.”

Oh. Butterflies buzzed around your tummy as you let yourself indulge in the mental image. “Yeah? Did it feel good?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed. You could hear rustling on the phone, like he was trying to situate himself comfortably. “Just made a mess is all.”

Fucking hell. “You gonna make a mess for me tonight, then?” You asked, twirling the phone cord around your finger. He moaned in response, and you grinned. “Aw, did you already get started, sweetheart?”

He moaned out a confirmation and you grinned, letting your free hand trail down your belly and beneath the waistband of your panties. “You already sound so pretty, Steve. So good for me, doing exactly what I say.”

The breathy sounds of his pants and moans made slickness gather between your thighs. Sounded like he hadn’t been lying about being hard and desperate all night just anticipating the call. “We’re not gonna talk tonight, we’re just gonna listen to each other,” you told him. 

Maybe it was unfair to him that you had the perfect mental image of him in your head since you already knew what he looked like. You relished in that knowledge as you coated your fingers in your wetness and rubbed small circles around your clit. 

Steve was loud, which made you wonder if his neighbors hated him. If you had to live next door to Steve Harrington and his pornstar moans, you’d probably go crazy. You were going crazy just from being on the other end of the phone. You were louder than usual too— it was a miracle that Rhonda worked nights.

It wasn’t long before you both finished— gasping and moaning into the phone’s receiver. You sighed as you laid back against your pillows, completely sated and content as you listened to Steve’s shaky breaths. 

“How’re you feeling?” You asked, fighting the desire to twirl your hair around your fingers. 

“Good,” he said finally. “Gonna have to do laundry, wash my sheets. I probably needed to anyway.” He paused. “I picked up a copy of that book you were talking about. It’s actually funny, ‘cause they were out of copies apparently, but the girl behind the counter let me have hers. Like it was meant to be, or something.”

Your heart hammered. “That’s really sweet, Steve,” you said softly. “I’m sorry in advance if you hate it.”

“I won’t!” He insisted. “I read the first couple of pages while I waited to call. I’m not the best reader, though. Might take me a while to finish it, but I do like it so far.”

You were partially convinced that you were in love with Steve Harrington, despite the fact that he wouldn’t even recognize you on the street. “This might be… I mean, maybe it’s crossing a line, and I could totally get fired for even suggesting… but—“ You hesitated. Fuck it. “I want to give you my personal line. So you don’t have to pay to talk to me. It’s not fair if we’re both enjoying the conversations but only one of us is paying, you know?”

He was quiet, almost too quiet. Nerves stirred in your belly. “Is that… you know, okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he said quickly. “Let me just grab a pen.”

You couldn’t help but stare longingly down into the atrium of the mall, where Steve Harrington was sweeping crumbs off of one of the booths inside Scoops Ahoy.

“Hello?” A kid snapped his fingers a few times and you swallowed down your annoyance as you turned. “We called earlier about Ender’s Game. The guy on the phone said he’d hold three copies. It’s under Mike.”

You glanced behind you, where the books clearly weren’t. Fuck Greg for making your menial job even worse. “It must’ve slipped his mind. I can grab those for you.” The kid made a bitchy face as you stepped away from the counter and you bit your tongue to keep from saying something rude. Fucking latchkey kids.

When you returned with three copies of the book, you looked at the kids skeptically. “By the way, if you stole any of the pencils or bookmarks, my boss is going to take it out of my paycheck and I won’t be able to feed my kids.”

“It costs thirty cents to feed your kids?”

You sighed and rang them up, but they continued to loiter in the shelves while you pretended to be busy. 

“There’s nothing to do,” one of them said after picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated briefly. “We should just go back to my house and play Atari.”

A red-haired girl rolled her eyes. “Lucas, we’re not playing Pong again.” She paused and glanced down towards the food court. “We could go see Steve.”

It took all your willpower not to react. 

“Why do you always want to go see Steve?” Lucas asked. “It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything.”

“She just wants to see him because she’s got some weird crush on him,” the bitchy one said. Mike? The red-haired girl blushed nearly as fiery as her hair and shoved Mike hard. “What? We all know it. You and El are always drooling over him. It’s weird.”

“He’s nice, okay? Way nicer than you are, asshole.” She shoved past the group and left on her own, leaving the other two guys to scramble after her. One kid was left behind, the one with the unfortunate bowl cut. He offered a wave before he followed after them. 

When they got downstairs, you watched him greet the redhead with a smile and a ruffle of her hair. Lucas and the bowl-cut kid got a slap on the back, and the bitchy one got a half-smile that wasn’t returned. 

Then he shelled out free ice cream, which was evident because none of them made a move to pay. 

After they left, you watched him reach into his own wallet and cover the cost, placing the bills carefully into the cash register. 

The rest of your shift was spent fawning over Steve and flipping through issues of the magazines you had on display. You felt idiotic gazing at Steve Harrington with puppy dog eyes while reading Top Ten Ways to Know if He’s Really Into You! Of course he wasn’t into you— he didn’t even know who you were, not really. 

Around two in the afternoon, you were snapped out of your reverie by the sight of Steve walking through the threshold of the shop, looking around the shop before his gaze settled on you and lit up in recognition. 

“Hi!” He said, nearly knocking over a carefully displayed unofficial biography of Reagan on his way over. You smiled, straightening your posture as he approached. “I wanted to thank you for the book.”

Your heart thumped. “Oh, you don’t need to thank me,” you insisted. “I just wanted to help.”

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out two coupons to Scoops Ahoy with a flourish. They advertised free ice cream in the nautical scrawl. “Does this change your mind?” He raised his brows and smiled smugly. 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, reading the fine print. Valid only at the Starcourt Mall location on weekdays between 8am and 11am. Offer not valid in conjunction with any other deals. Offer excludes banana splits, sundaes, and the U.S.S. Butterscotch.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Is free ice cream your thing or something? I saw you give that group of kids free sundaes earlier.”

He furrowed his brows, considering it, then grinned. “Are you watching me?”

Fuck. You spluttered, shaking your head as you fumbled through a response. “No. They were here first, then talked about going to see you, and then I just…” He laughed and leaned over the desk slightly, as if testing the view. 

“Oh, yeah. Perfect view from here.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat burning in your cheeks. “So you come here to thank me with shitty coupons, and then you accuse me of spying on you?”

He shook his head as he leaned back. “Hey, it’s not accusing you if it’s true.” He was so smug. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. See you around?” He looked at you expectantly until you nodded, face burning hot. He smiled, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked out casually like he hadn’t just totally caught you creeping on him. 

God, you were going to make him pay for that later. 

——

Steve paced around his room as he tried to gain the courage to call you. He would have liked to say that he needed to get your number from his Rolodex, but he’d memorized it nearly the moment he put it down on paper. 

He was thinking of you, but he was also thinking about the girl from the mall who seemed to keep popping up. There was something about her, the way he was drawn to her, the way she spoke, the way she looked at him. It was all so familiar and easy, like they’d known each other forever. 

He didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Finally, he settled on his bed, dressed only in a thin white tank top and boxers that were a size too big since he stopped working out as much. With nerves buzzing in his ears, he dialed your number and waited. 

And waited. And waited. He swallowed hard, wondering if you’d given him a fake number just to be rid of him. The number went to the answering machine, and his mouth went dry. 

“Hi! You’ve reached Y/N Y/L/N. I’m out right now, but leave your name and number at the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” A beep sounded and Steve hung up suddenly. His stomach sank. 

He wasn’t supposed to know your real name like that. It felt like some gross intrusion. And yet, he repeated it over and over again in his mind. Why did it seem so familiar?

On his nightstand, the beat up paperback he had borrowed stood out like a sore thumb. Oh. The book, the same book you, Jenny, had told him about. And the girl who worked there… Y/N. 

It was too much, far too much to be a coincidence. He grabbed the book and opened it to look at the inside cover, where your name, Jenny’s name was scrawled inside. Because you and Jenny were the same person. 

Every single conversation leading up to that point played over in his mind. The messy perm, the shitty job with the ugly polo, the fantasy about being pushed against the shelves and fucked. Oh, God. And you were totally spying on him. 

It should’ve been an absolute win for him, but his stomach turned as he glanced over at the phone on the receiver. You were gorgeous and funny and smart and so sexy. Why would you want to be with someone who needed to call a sex hotline?

He could just picture the look on your face when you discovered that the guy who worked in the stupid uniform at Scoops was so pathetic that he needed to call someone to get attention. 

He swallowed hard, guilt and doubt settling icy in his stomach. He put the book down, and didn’t call back.

——

Steve was sulking during his shift. Probably biting the heads off of a few too many kids who asked for a few too many samples. 

“Jesus, how many times do you need to try cotton candy?” He snapped as he dug out a tiny spoonful of the pink and blue ice cream. The kid furrowed his brows up at him, puzzled by the sudden outburst. 

“Uh, can I try Cherries Jubilee next?” He asked hesitantly. 

Steve exhaled slowly through his nose. “No, you’re done. Out.”

The kid rolled his eyes, swore under his breath, and stomped out of Scoops Ahoy. 

Robin was staring at him funny when he turned around, a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You’re totally PMSing today.”

He couldn’t manage more than a scowl in response. “Shut up.”

Robin laughed and tossed a cherry at him, which he managed to catch before it splattered against the glass of the ice cream case. He hated maraschino cherries— the artificial sweetness and unnatural color. But, hey, he could tie a cherry stem into a knot with his tongue.

He hadn’t called you for three days, which felt like the longest stretch of time in his life. And he hadn’t even seen you around Starcourt, which was both a good thing and absolutely unbearable. 

Part of him wanted to just jump on the escalator and see if you were sitting behind the counter at Waldenbooks, but he knew it was better to just have a clean break. Maybe in a few months, you’d forget about that Steve guy who’d called you and he could make his move then.

The shift change hit around lunchtime, and Steve prepared for the influx of people who were getting off work on empty stomachs. As he suspected, the line stretched out the door and he was practically up to his elbows in ice cream, mindlessly scooping flavor combinations that should’ve been illegal. Until—

“Hey, Steve,” you said, standing in front of him in your ugly work polo with messy hair half-fallen out of your ponytail. “Staying busy?”

He stammered nervously and mumbled out an unintelligible response. “Ice cream?” Was all that he could manage to ask, which made him want to throw himself into the fountain right in the middle of the food court. 

But you just smiled. “A shake, actually. Chocolate banana if that’s possible.” He nodded and got to work, thankful for the distraction. Your eyes followed his every movement as he made your shake, but he couldn’t let himself look at you.

Because if he did really look at you, all he’d be able to think about were the phone calls you’d had— the calls where he’d heard you cum with breathy gasps and pants and soft whimpers. And— Jesus Christ— he was thinking about it and it made him feel dizzy. 

He used a little bit too much whipped cream and put rainbow sprinkles on top for God knows why, but he handed it to you with a weak smile. 

“Three bucks, right?” You asked, nodding to the menu.

“Uh, you can just have it,” he said without even thinking. “On the house.”

You furrowed your brows for a moment,  but smiled brightly. “Really? Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” You took a sip and gave a soft moan at the flavor that made a full-body chill run through him. “See you around?”

“Yeah. See you.” You gave a small wave before you disappeared into the food court. He watched you the whole way, like you were the only person in the room.

Fuck. He was hard. Like, rock hard and the stupid apron on the uniform only made it more obvious. He’d fucking pavloved himself to get turned on just by your voice. 

“Robin, I’m taking my fifteen,” he said, darting into the back before she could protest. He stepped inside the walk-in freezer and propped the door with a crate of waffle cones. After about five minutes, he felt like he could actually think again.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath. He had to call you again.

You were sincerely considering quitting the hotline. After Steve, just listening to the other guys panting and blowing their loads on the phone was nauseating. They didn’t care to learn more about you, not the way he did. They just wanted to get their rocks off to an anonymous, sexy voice. 

Then again, Steve had disappeared too. Maybe giving him your real number had crossed a line. Maybe it freaked him out that you were taking it beyond a transaction. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter in your house coat. Rhonda always kept the AC on overdrive in the summer, which meant you needed at least two blankets to be comfortable. 

When the phone rang, you picked it up without thinking, half expecting it to be Rhonda calling you to check in during her break. 

“Hey,” you said absentmindedly, leaning back against your pillows. 

“This is, uh— this is the right number, right? It’s Steve.”

Your heart nearly burst out of your chest at the sound of his voice. “Hey, yeah, it’s the right number,” you assured. You wriggled out of your housecoat and tossed it to the side so you could get more comfortable. “How are you? It’s been a few days.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I, uh,” he paused. “I think I psyched myself out of calling you.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, I’m glad you did call. I really missed you.”

“You did?”

You laughed, letting yourself get more comfortable. “Mhmm,” you replied. “I mean, we’ve been talking everyday for a while, you know?”

“I missed you too, couldn’t stop thinking about you, even at work.” You smiled, remembering how absentminded he had seemed when you showed up in the ice cream parlor. And he was thinking about you. Not you, but still you. “I— uh— had to walk into our deep freezer to cool myself off.”

“How long has it been for you?” You asked suddenly. “Like, since you’ve had sex.”

Steve chuckled nervously. “I dunno… two months?” He paused. “Is that lame?”

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you assured. “Think it’s sweet. No wonder you’re all needy all the time. You need a nice, tight, wet pussy to sink into, hm?”

A low moan escaped his lips. “God—“

“Better than your hand, isn’t it?” You teased. “I bet you’re so desperate that you’ve been touching yourself this whole time, even before you called me. Isn’t that right?”

The closest thing you got in response was another pretty moan. “You’re big too, aren’t you?” You mused aloud, not even waiting for a response. “I know you are, you’ve basically told me in not so many words. Most girls can’t handle that, baby. It’s not your fault. That’s okay, we could take it slow, you could get me all nice and stretched for you, take your time like the gentleman you are.”

“Fuck— fuck—“ His words came out choked and desperate. You could almost picture it— the way he’d be fucking up into his hand, needing more and more.

“I bet you always have to take it real slow, huh? Gotta be careful so you don’t hurt someone. But that just means you can feel everything better, doesn’t it? Inch by inch by inch, every flutter and squeeze. And you can see on their faces how good it feels, can’t you? You can watch their eyes roll back and their mouths fall open while they cry out for you. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I bet most girls come before you’re even all the way inside.”

His hand sped up, desperate and needy, just as you’d said. You could hear it with each wet slap of skin against skin. His moans were constant, a stream of yesahgodfuckohshitahyesahfuckfuckfuck— until the prettiest moan escaped his lips, all low and deep, and you knew he’d made a pretty mess of himself. 

“Bet that felt really nice,” you said while he panted on the other end of the line. 

He made a weak noise, then finally managed a, “Uh-huh. Fuck.”

You laughed softly. “That’s gotta be the fastest I’ve gotten you off,” you said finally. “I like having that much power over you. It turns me on so much.”

He groaned. “Fuck, give me five— no— ten minutes. I can barely breathe right now.”

You grinned, relishing in your ability to torture him a bit after he’d teased you at work. Unknowingly, of course, but still. “I dunno if I can wait that long, Steve… I’m so wet that my thighs are all sticky.”

“God, you’re killing me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Why don’t you lay there and listen to me? Be good and keep your hands off, alright? You already came, so don’t get greedy.”

He made a nearly pained noise. “Fine. Fine.”

A smirk spread across your lips as you let your hand move between your thighs. Really, you weren’t exaggerating that much— you found yourself slick and needy when you finally slid your panties down your thighs. Actually, you thought you’d probably have to be a statue to hear Steve Harrington panting and cumming over the phone and stay unaffected.

You could hear his breath catch with every soft moan and whimper, and maybe you got mean and held the phone near your tummy, so he could hear just how wet and messy you’d gotten as you steadily fucked yourself with your fingers. When you got desperate enough, you held the phone against your ear once more. 

“I dunno, Steve… I don’t think my fingers can cut it,” you said, exaggerating the pouty tone of your voice. “I wish you were here to take care of me.”

He groaned, low and muffled. You had a feeling he’d thrown an arm over his face. “You’re so unfair.”

A smile spread across your lips at his words. “No, baby. What’s unfair is that I’m laying here all alone, feeling so empty and needy, and you’re not here to make it all better.” You reached into your nightstand, pulling out the dildo you’d bought for your twentieth birthday. “‘S okay, I can take care of myself just fine. You ever been to a sex shop?”

It got quiet on the line, and you could nearly hear the gears turning. 

“N-no.”

You raised a brow. “Really? But you know what they sell, don’t you?” You paused until he hummed a soft uh-huh. “It’s only fair that I get to use a toy to fill myself up since you can’t do it for me, right?”

“Y-yeah, wanna hear you do it.”

You grinned. “Patience, baby. Gotta get it wet first so it glides in nice and easy.”

Blowing a rubber dick wasn’t how you’d envisioned ending your day, but— what can you say?— spontaneity is the spice of life. You made sure he heard every wet pass of it between your lips, every exaggerated gag as you took it into your throat, the messy smack of your lips. It tasted like a tire and dish soap, but the desperate, restrained sounds he was making made it all worth it. 

Your eyes were watery when you finally pulled the toy from your mouth, certain you’d adequately worked him up for the time being. Plus, you were worked up just as much, if not more— you wanted to just fuck yourself into oblivion already. 

Instinctively, your thighs fell farther apart as you moved the toy between your legs. You let the tip tease your entrance, only a little, before you began to push it inside. A soft moan fell from your lips as you finally got the nice, full feeling you’d been dreaming of. 

You laid there for a moment, letting your body adjust to it, reveling in it. With your free hand, you slowly circled your clit until your cunt fluttered around the intrusion. 

“Feels so nice,” you sighed, lips brushing against the mouthpiece of the phone. You felt drunk and hazy with desire. “Like I’m so close already that I can taste it.”

“Make yourself come for me,” he practically begged. “Wanna hear it.”

You moaned at his words, but shook your head. “Can’t yet. I wanna make this last.”

Time felt a little hazy as you kept working the toy in and out, slow and deep. Occasionally, you’d brush against your clit just right, or the toy would find a nice spot inside of you, and your entire body would tremble with need. 

Steve’s breath came in pants over the phone, but you couldn’t tell if he had broken and actually started to touch himself. You kind of hoped he did, even if you wouldn’t say it. 

Eventually, you came without warning— the build-up of it all made it impossible to avoid. Once you started over that edge, you couldn’t crawl back even if you’d wanted to. Moans fell from your lips as you succumbed to your orgasm; every nerve was like a live wire. When it finally came to be too much, you slipped the toy out and relaxed onto your bed with a contented sigh. 

“Are you still alive?” You asked, quiet crackling over the phone. 

“Uh… yeah,” he replied, a little distracted. “Have you ever come without having to touch yourself?”

You laughed softly. “Once. I read in Cosmo that some girls can get off just from playing with their tits. Took a while, but I eventually got there. Why?”

“I just, uh… listening to you, all the noises and hearing how wet you were… I guess that was all it took.” He sounded so embarrassed, but it was the cutest fucking thing you’d ever heard. You could imagine it so clearly, his cock pulsing against his twitching stomach, cum making puddles around his navel. 

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” you said with a smile. “You’re probably exhausted, huh?”

He laughed a bit. “A little, but I can stay up and talk, if you’re free.”

Ever the gentleman, Steve stayed up another hour to talk about whatever you could think of to keep the conversation running. The new collection at The Gap, whether or not he planned to see Back to the Future, his favorite music got him talking for half an hour at least. Finally, you were yawning and beat. 

“Steve, baby, I should go to sleep,” you said, almost apologetically. 

“That’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You froze, brows furrowing. “What?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he repeated, sleepily. “At the mall.”

“Um… night,” you said quickly, panicking slightly as you hung up the phone.

Steve had mopped the same spot on the floor five times during his shift, all while sparing fleeting glances towards Waldenbooks, where you were immersed in a magazine or a book. Always doing anything but looking down at him. 

Which was good… maybe? He couldn’t quite decide.

He hadn’t been thinking when he said that on the phone. But he was sleepy, and his brain was a little foggy, and then he’d gone and doubled down. 

As soon as he hung up the phone, he remembered that he had given his real name, and you knew he worked in food service, and you knew he wore a stupid uniform. That narrowed it down really easily. 

So he spent his shift in a constant state of dread and panic, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

By the time the mall was closing, he had occupied himself with wiping down tables. He let Robin head home and pulled out his Walkman to keep him company. Since working at Starcourt, he made a pretty sick collection of tapes that wound up in the lost and found. This one was a metal mix, which typically wasn’t his thing, but was growing on him. 

He didn’t realize you were standing over him until you rapped twice on the table, drawing his eyes up, up, up until they were locked with yours. He scrambled to pause the tape and stand up, adjusting his stupid uniform as an embarrassed blush grew on his cheeks. 

“Hi,” you greeted. Your Waldenbooks vest hung loosely on your form, right on top of a pink polo. 

“Hi,” he echoed. It was quiet for a second, as he tried to think of what to say, and as you scrambled for the words you’d been practicing all day. “I’ve known it was you for a while.” The words escaped him before he could stop himself, and then he just stared at you, completely mortified. 

You laughed, covering your face for a moment as heat flooded your cheeks. “You knew? I didn’t even— I mean, I didn’t realize. Because I knew it was you calling. For a while, actually. 

He grinned, leaning forward. “So… the guy you said you wanted to… against the shelves…?” When you ducked your head and looked away, he smiled like the cat who got the cream. “No way. You were totally perving on me, even before!”

“You had to walk into a deep freezer to cool off because you were thinking about me, perv.” He laughed, and you wanted to kiss him so badly it freaked you out a little. “So… What do we do now? I mean, now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, and we’re going to keep running into each other.”

Your poor cuticles were going through the wringer— red and stinging where you picked at them due to nerves. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to just sweep you into his arms like some kind of fairytale and promise his undying devotion. Or just say he wanted to date you. Whichever.

“I could take you on a date,” he said sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean, if your type is total pervs who spend most of the week in sailor uniforms.”

Oh, you had plans for that sailor uniform. You stepped forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I think you just might be in luck.” He turned his head, just slightly, so he could capture your mouth with his. 

The kiss was sweet, at first. Slow brushes of his lips against yours. They tasted sweet, like he’d been wearing lip smackers or something. Or maybe he’d been sneaking samples of the ice cream. He pulled you closer and you gasped, offering him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly at the feeling of your tongue licking against his. 

He picked you up easily, sitting you down on the table he should’ve been cleaning. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. It was easy to lose yourself in the hungry, desperate way Steve kissed. You could’ve stayed right there in the middle of Scoops making out with him until the mall opened in the morning, and still not have found the motivation to stop. 

A bright light startled you back into reality, shining directly in your faces. You and Steve squinted in the general direction, as Starcourt security stomped your way. 

“Hey! Get the fuck home,” He shouted, with equal amounts of exasperation and annoyance. He clicked off the flashlight and walked away with a huff and an eye roll, leaving you and Steve alone.

Steve’s cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he stepped back, but he still wore a dopey grin on his lips. You hopped off the table and adjusted your skirt with a light laugh. 

“That was nice,” You said as you tucked a loose curl behind your ear. “I should leave you to it, I guess. Before we both end up in mall jail.” 

He shook his head quickly. “No! I mean, you could hang out here until I’m done. I just have a few more tables to clean and chairs to stack, if you want to—” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. 

A sly grin spread across your features. “What? Are you trying to go home with me or something?” He stammered nervously, that same, cute blush growing on his cheeks. Before he could say anything, you took a step closer and peered up at him. “Because if you are, I might tell you that my roommate works nights at Hawkins General, and we’d have it conveniently all to ourselves.”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do.”

You sat in the booth nearest to the entrance of the parlor, flipping through a magazine you’d grabbed from work. Occasionally, you’d sneak tiny peeks of Steve bent over a table to wipe it down, uniform stretched tight over his ass, and grin behind the pages. 

He got everything locked up in what he claimed was record time, flashing a smile as he closed up shop behind the two of you.

”Do you work tomorrow?” You asked, as casually as possible as the two of you approached your cars in the employee lot. 

“Yep. Afternoon shift,” he explained.

“I’ll drive you. We’ll carpool tonight.”

The car ride was relatively tame, a few stolen glances at stoplights at most. When you brought him inside the house, your phone was ringing off the hook. You apologized and ushered him into your room, where, true enough, the spare phone you used for the hotline was ringing nonstop. 

“Sorry, let me just…” You grabbed the phone and hung it up once, before taking it off the receiver completely. “There. No interruptions.”

Steve grinned, surveying your room carefully. The set of pom-poms from high school on a shelf, a stack of Cosmopolitan magazines, the chair full of your laundry— fuck, you should’ve definitely taken a moment to speed clean before letting him inside. 

“So… what do you say we pick up where we left off?” You stood on your tiptoes and pecked his lips chastely before guiding him towards your bed. As soon as he sat down, you wasted no time in crawling into his lap and kissing him with all of the pent-up frustration of weeks of phone calls. 

You kissed him for so long you’d have to come up panting for air, before diving right back in. His hands— Jesus, you’d never noticed how big his hands were— were splayed out over your hips at first, but had moved down to grab your ass, encouraging each movement as you rocked against him. 

Without breaking the kiss, you shrugged off your work vest, so it fell into a heap over the side of your bed. He pulled back, chest heaving slightly as he caught his breath. His lips were swollen from use and spit-slick. His eyes moved from the vest on the ground, then back to your eyes. A tiny laugh escaped you before you pulled off your top, then your bra. 

“This still okay?” You asked, as you stood briefly and tugged down your denim skirt. The sound of your voice felt almost foreign in the quiet room, while he took in the sight of you in nothing but a pair of panties.

“God, more than okay,” he assured, before pulling you onto his lap for another heated kiss. This kiss was needier— you could feel it in the hungry way he licked into your mouth, and the feel of him hard beneath you. Tiny gasps pushed past your lips as you rocked against him just right. 

He moved his hands from you only to pull off his work shirt, and the white shirt he wore beneath it. Your hands immediately went to his chest, running through the chest hair he’d hidden beneath the uniform. How the fuck did he manage to walk out of his house without being immediately pounced on by every woman in a five-mile radius?

 He placed one final kiss on your lips before pulling back and meeting your gaze. As earnestly as you’d ever, he asked, “Can I go down on you?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. Oh my god, yes. “Sure, if you want to.”

He smiled wide. “Yeah? Just relax for me, alright?” He shifted the two of you, so you were lying on the bed and he was on top of you. He planted a chaste peck on your nose, and you wrinkled it in reaction. 

You kissed him one, fleetingly, before letting him kiss down your chest and tummy. He parted your thighs and carefully positioned himself between them. You met his gaze and felt your stomach somersault. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the damp fabric of your panties.,

“Fuck,” he mumbled against you. “You’re soaking for me, huh?” And there was that cocky grin you’d seen at the mall before. You had to lie back and put a hand over your eyes, because if you thought about that fucking smug expression for too long, you’d cum untouched. 

He ran his tongue over the fabric of your panties, tasting you through the saturated satin once, twice before he pulled them down your legs. And he fucking moaned like a man starved at the sight of you. 

Heat burned in your cheeks as you felt him spreading you open, and at the slick, wet sounds of your own arousal. “You’re so pretty.” And then his tongue was on you, lapping up your juices, savoring all of you. 

“O-oh, fuck—“ Your moan came out like a sob as his nose brushed against your clit, making your thighs tremble. He moaned against your cunt, nuzzling deeper like he couldn’t get enough. 

In retrospect, he had brought up how much he loved eating pussy a lot on that first call. Your hips bucked slightly, torn between chasing the feeling and overstimulation. His lips would wrap around your clit and suck softly before he would go back to lapping at you, his tongue parting your folds and teasing your entrance. 

“St-Steve!” You cried out, fingers tangling in his hair. The slightest tug on his locks made him moan against you, which made your toes curl. 

Your moans became pitchy and breathless as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. All of your muscles were wound up tight, itching for release. 

All it took was a little bit of eye contact and you were done for. You sobbed out a moan as he lapped up your release— each lap of his tongue sending electricity up your nerves. When he finally relented, you were shaking with aftershocks and giggling. 

“Something funny?” He asked with a grin as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You sighed and spared a glance over at him. “I’ve been dreaming of that happening since our first call.” He grinned as you pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. 

“Did it meet your expectations?” He asked, swallowing nervously as you shifted to accommodate your hand between the two of you. His eyes fluttered shut as your hand slipped beneath his work shorts and boxers to grasp his cock in your hand. 

You gave a slow, experimental stroke of your hand and nodded. “Two thumbs up.”

He swallowed hard as you removed your hand to completely undress him, leaving you both completely naked. You spit into your hand and wrapped it back around his length, holding eye contact as you jerked him off.

There was something so surreal about the entire situation— having him beneath you, warm and pulsing and slick in your hand. Each time your thumb brushed along the head of his cock, he cried out with the prettiest moan.

“W-wait—“ he said quickly, a look of panic in his eyes. You stilled your hand as he looked at you, a pretty blush painting his cheeks. “I’m not gonna last.”

You bit your to keep from grinning like an idiot. “That’s okay,” you said with a smile. You reached into your bedside table and retrieved a condom. “Do you want to, uh, go all the way?” 

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You tore open the packet and rolled the condom on. “How’s that feel? Alright?” He gave a dorky thumbs up, which made you laugh. You leaned down to kiss him once more and wondered if you’d ever get tired of that feeling. 

You reached between the two of you and guided his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal until you grew too needy and lined him up with your entrance. It was a stretch, even though he’d gotten you plenty worked up with his mouth. You sank down slowly, one hand splayed against his chest to keep you steady as you took in inch after inch. 

The sounds that escaped him as you lowered yourself onto him were so pornographic you thought he should be the one working the hotline instead. Desperate panting moans slipped past his full lips as his hands clawed at your hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes half-lidded as he watched you. “That’s it. You can take it.”

The mouth on him. You moaned softly as you finally settled onto his lap and he was fully sheathed within you. You stayed still, letting your body adjust to and relish in how full you felt. 

“You look so pretty right now,” he said, reaching up to brush a messy hair from your face. You laughed softly as your cheeks warmed, and a funny fluttering in your chest nearly stole your breath.

“Says you,” was all you could manage to say back. You were hyper-aware of the feeling of him within you, of each flutter of your walls around him.

You gave an experimental roll of your hips and his head fell back, against the pillows, exposing the column of his throat. You relished in the way he looked beneath you— debauched and needy. 

It was easy and slow at first. Each time you moved, you would lower yourself back down slowly, letting him savor the feeling of you, warm and wet and needy. He groaned each time you settled back on his lap, eyes hooded with lust as he looked up at you.

You gave a lazy smile as you looked down at him, moaning each time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Can I go a little faster?”

He nodded, eager for whatever you could give him. Your nails raked against his chest as you began to ride him in earnest, the back of your thighs slapping against his as you bounced on his cock. 

Your head fell back as you rubbed at your clit with your free hand. Soft moans spilled from your lips as you relished in the culmination of all of your fantasies. Because he was there, splayed out beneath you like a fucking pornstar, and you had him all to yourself. 

His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he began meeting your thrusts halfway, fucking into the heaven between your thighs. 

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked himself deeper and deeper, stealing your breath with each thrust. “Close,” you practically squeaked out. Red marks stood out against the freckles skin of his chest where you searched desperately for purchase. 

Steve’s hair was stuck to his forehead, tacky from exertion. “Need you to cum for me,” he managed between pretty moans. “Wanna feel you cumming around me.”

You whimpered at his words, riding him harder as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. A fucked-out moan escaped you as you collapsed against his chest, hips weakly stuttering as Steve continued fucking up into you. With your pussy gripping him like a vise, he could only manage a few good thrusts before he came with a groan. 

You laid there on top of him as you caught your breath, wearing a stupid, giddy smile as he traced mindless shapes onto your back. His face was buried in your neck, where he left sweet, wet kisses. After a while, you slid off of him and sighed, missing the way it felt when he was still buried inside of you. You did your best to clean yourself off with the towel hanging from your bedpost as Steve tied off the condom and tossed it in the bin. 

“We’re not just…” Steve began once you were both comfortable in your bed. He let the words linger for a moment before he shook his head. “Never mind.”

You turned on your side to face him, adjusting your blankets for a bit of modesty. “We’re not just fucking? That’s what you’re asking, right?” He nodded quietly. “It was nice, but no, that’s not all I want.”

He grinned. “Yeah? You wanna be my girlfriend? I totally pulled a cougar.” His stupid grin made you roll your eyes, but you couldn’t keep a matching smile off of yours. 

“You’re so annoying,” you said, not giving him a second to react before your lips were on his again. You pulled back and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. 

In the morning, you woke up in his arms as sunlight crept through the window. You squinted at the sun, then back at him. “Still want me to drive you to work?”

“No way,” he said, muffled against the column of your throat. Soft kisses peppered against your skin, making you giggle and arch into him. “I’m calling in.”

[jo-speaks]

please please please ft. jack hughes

in which...

you're aware of Jack's reputation with girls, but you know he'll be different with you.

track two in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

I know I have good judgment

I know I have good taste

It's funny and it's ironic

That only I feel that way

I promise 'em that you're different

Your sister stared at your phone, a picture of the one and only Jack Hughes on it. The look on her face was one of confusion and slight disgust. “That’s… your boyfriend?”

“Well don’t get too happy about it.” You answered, pursing your lips together as you turned off your phone. 

She rolled her eyes, “Y/N, he looks like a frat boy who drinks every other hour and fucks a different girl every night.” 

Before you could respond, her phone rang. She excused herself into the living room, leaving you pondering on your queen-sized bed. Your sister was partially right, he did have a reputation for being, for lack of better words, a fuck boy. 

Ever since he got drafted when he was 18, the number of girls that entered his dm’s was despicable. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t respond to them, getting a few relatively censored pictures in return.

But with age comes maturity. Once he met you, he knew he found his person. 

No more DM’s. No more hookups. No more girls. Just you, and only you.

Your sister reentered the room, “Sorry. Mom just wanted to know if I was showing up to meet your boy toy this weekend.”

“I promise you. He’s different.”

And everyone makes mistakes

But just don't

“Do you not trust me? We’ve been over this, babe.” Jack stated, wrapping his arm around your waist as you got into bed with him. 

You looked up at him as you rested your head on his bare chest. “I do trust you. But you have to understand why they’re worried about me dating you, Jack.”

His body tensed up, and his hold on your body loosened. You could feel the gentle rise and fall into his chest speeding into a rapid pace. Family meant everything to Jack and you knew that, so you couldn’t imagine how he felt at the idea of your family not liking him just because of stupid decisions he made in the past. 

“Sorry. Maybe when we all have dinner tomorrow I can clear that up. I want them to like me, Y/N.” He whispered. 

I heard that you're an actor

So act like a stand-up guy

“So. You’re Jack.” Your father said, eyes trailing up and down his figure.

Your boyfriend gulped slightly, trying to keep his composure. “Yes sir. A pleasure to meet you.” He didn’t reply, choosing to stare the boy down instead. 

“Dad.” You warned.

Wanting to break up all the awkwardness, your mother introduced herself, giving Jack a warmer welcome than your father. She took his hand and dragged him into the house, leaving you and your dad standing tensely in the doorway.

“I don’t like him. Who the hell does he think he’s impressing with that ‘yes sir’ crap?” 

You groaned softly, “Dad, I really like him. Can you please just give him a chance? I promise you he’s a really great guy once you get to know him.”

Your dad stared at you blankly, “How many girls do you think he’s gotten to believe that? Your sister came over yesterday to talk to us. Told us all about him.”

“Yeah, well he’s changed. And whether you choose to believe that or not, all I ask is for you to treat him with a little bit of respect. Please.”

He didn’t respond verbally, opting for a simple sigh and nod as he led the two of you into the house.

Whatever devils inside you

Don't let him out tonight

I tell them it's just your culture

And everyone rolls their eyes

Yeah I know

Maybe it was a mistake bringing your parents to the Devils vs. Kings game. You had never seen Jack as rilled up as he was tonight, but you were sitting close enough to the glass to hear his opponent chirping him about his size. Jack had enough of the cheap shots, choosing to slash and rough around a little bit with the bigger man. 

Your mom laughed softly as he got dragged to the penalty box. You looked up, pointing out the camera focused on Jack displayed on the jumbotron. 

“People pay to watch me play!” Jack yelled, his voice slightly audible from the other side of the rink at which you were sitting.

While you and your mom giggled about the comment made by your boyfriend, your dad shook his head. “Real classy.” 

You sighed, “Dad, please. It’s just hockey culture. He didn’t mean it. 

He simply rolled his eyes, “I’m telling you, sweetie. A temper like that doesn’t only exist while he’s playing.” He said, crossing his arms before pulling out his phone to scroll mindlessly on it.

All I'm asking baby

Please please please don't prove em’ right

Jack threw his equipment bag into the trunk of your car, shaking the vehicle slightly as you got into the passenger seat. However, he stopped you before you could buckle in. 

“Can you drive?” He mumbled, “If I get behind the wheel right now, I swear to God, I might crash it.”

You simply nodded, stepping out so he could step in. You walked around the car, seeing Jack inside the car, looking out the window into the dark, night sky. Since you didn’t lack common sense, you decided to stay quiet and let his mind run wild. Handling three straight losses isn’t easy on an athlete, especially if that athlete is Jack Hughes. 

The half-hour drive back to his Hoboken apartment was mostly silent, other than the occasional sniffle from Jack, his body getting used to being warm after almost six hours at the rink. 

After a few more minutes, it grew old. “You okay?”

He scoffed, “Yeah, I’m totally fine after losing, that makes total sense, Y/N.”

“Okay, no. I didn’t do anything to you, so lose the damn attitude because the only thing I’m trying to do is make you feel better.”

“Well maybe use your brain and don’t ask me stupid questions like that when you can clearly see that I’m not.” He retorted, turning his head to look at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, severely disliking his tone but ultimately too tired to snap back, resorting to a deep sigh and a quiet, “Okay, Jack.” 

Pulling the car into the driveway of his apartment, you waited for him to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. He didn’t, rather letting out a breath and reaching over to grab your hand. “I’m sorry. You’re right, you didn’t do anything to me and I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s fine, Jack.” You mumbled, not meeting his gaze. 

He gently cupped your face with his right hand, softly forcing you to look at him, which you reluctantly did. “It’s not fine. You’re my girlfriend and I promise you that will never happen again.”

You nodded, silently thanking him before leaning in to kiss his chapped lips.

Please please please

Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice

Heartbreak is one thing

My egos another

I beg you don't embarrass me

Mother fucker ohhh

Please please please

‘Jack Hughes seen with beautiful lady at local Jersey bar. New girlfriend in the NHL superstars’ life?’ 

You read the headline, immediately throwing your phone from your vanity seat onto your bed. The tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over if you blinked. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to hold back the river that began spilling from your eyes. The mascara entering your eyes was a pleasurable burn due to it distracting you from what had caused the situation to unfold in the first place. 

Was he cheating on you? Is this just another gossip site desperate for attention? 

“Woah! Hey, what happened?” Jack called out, snapping you out of your spiral. 

Unable to form words, you just handed him your phone, looking up at him with an expression of hurt and worry.

You watched as his eyes shifted from left to right, reading the article with furrowed eyebrows. When he was done, he let out a sigh and wiped his face then ran the same hand through his hair. 

He set the phone down, squatting down to be on eye level with you. “Baby, I swear it’s not what it looks like.”

“Then what? Because to me, what it looks like is that you were getting nice and cozy with that girl.” You scoffed, trying to turn your chair away from him.

His reflexes were quick enough to stop that, not wanting the conversation to end before he had the chance to explain himself. “Listen to me. Lukey was eyeing her all night. I wanted to be a good big brother and try to set that up. That picture was just taken at a bad time, but I swear to you that’s all it was.” 

“Then why the hell was her hand on your shoulder like that?” You cried out, your sobs breaking your voice. 

“She did that! I took it right off immediately after, I swear. You have to believe me, Y/N. I would never even think about doing that to you.” He pleaded, not wanting everything the two of you had just because of some touchy girl at the bar. 

You tried to calm yourself, wanting to stop the tears but you couldn’t. You believed him, you truly did, but just the idea of him with another woman made you sick to your stomach.

“Okay.” You eventually managed to croak out. “I believe you.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, the mascara running down your cheeks staining his white dress shirt. “I promise I will never, ever, do that to you.”

Well I have a fun idea babe

Maybe just stay inside

I know you're craving some fresh air

But the ceiling fan is so nice

“Do you have to go?” You asked, intertwining your legs with his as you lay on the couch.

He chuckled, “Yes, I do. It’s an event for kids, Y/N. I can’t miss it.” 

“But it’s so nice in here! We’ve got Netflix and A/C. What more could you want?” 

“Fresh air, maybe?” He said with a teasing tone, “I haven’t been out in so long, I need vitamin D.”

You wiggled your eyebrows, “Or vitamin me.” Jack gagged at your joke, pressing himself away from you as you laughed maniacally from your spot on the couch. “I’m definitely going after that awful joke.”

Once you calmed down, you groaned dramatically, tightening your grip on him, “Anything I can do to convince you to stay?”

“Maybe one thing.” He smirked, leaning up to peck at your neck and jawline. “Grow three more heads and a penis and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Not funny, Hughes.”

And we could live so happily

If no one knows that you're with me

I'm just kidding

But really (Kinda)

Really

Really

“Can I post this?” Jack asked, crossing his arm over your waist to show you his phone. 

It was a picture of the two of you sitting on the boat and smiling at each other. A cute photo, truly, but your face was on full display. Jack noticed your questioning stare, leaning up on her elbow so he could see you better. 

“I don’t know, Jack. I’d rather you not.”

“Okay… can I ask why? I think it’s a cute photo.”

You let out a soft breath, “I’ve seen the comments under some of your posts. I just don’t want anyone saying anything about us.”

He nodded slowly, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you care so much? It’s just a bunch of fifteen-year-old girls who think they have a chance with me.” 

You let out a laugh at his comment, “It’s not that I care, I just don’t think I want to put us out there. Not yet, at least.”

“Gotcha. So I can’t post you at all? Or can I do this one?” He showed you his phone again after a few swipes of his thumb, his screen displaying a picture of him Titanic-ing you on the edge of the boat. Your back was to the camera, but he had turned around to look at his brother, giving Ellen the perfect chance to capture his laughter in the image.

Smiling at the picture, you nodded, giving him the okay.

Please please please don't prove I'm right

Please please please

Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice

Jack’s rough hands over your eyes weren’t the most pleasurable feeling. He wasn’t paying attention to his subconscious choice to press the pads of his fingers into your eyes, so you were mumbling constant, “Jack.”s the whole way to wherever he was taking you. 

Why he couldn’t have just gotten a blindfold was beyond you.

After a few more steps and the familiar creak of the door, he removed his hands. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light. Once you did, you saw a bunch of red, pink, and white decorations hanging in the kitchen, a small cake in the middle with little figures of you and Jack on the top of it. 

You gasped softly, taking in the scene. You knew Jack was never one to go above and beyond for silly little holidays like Valentine’s Day. He knew you were a sap for celebrating anything and everything, so he figured you would like it. 

Jack had turned to admire his handiwork, but by the time he turned back to you, tears were streaming down your face as an upside-down smile covered your face. He couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. 

“You aren’t supposed to cry!” He exclaimed in between short laughs. 

You sniffled, “I know! But how can I not?”

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you into a tight hug as he swayed you softly, your dramatic cries turning into laughs once you got over the initial shock.

“Thank you, Jack. I love it.” 

He placed a soft kiss atop your head, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”

Heartbreak is one thing

My egos another

Jack stormed into your apartment, startling you from your place on the couch. You had forgotten you gave him a spare key. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, immediately standing up once you saw the look on his face.

His eyes were red, as well as the rest of his face. “Shoulder.” Was the only word he was able to get out before tears of frustration began spilling from his face. 

You had never seen Jack this vulnerable, so you had no idea what to do. You guided him to the couch, gently pulling him into your arms. 

He eventually calmed down, taking a few deep breaths. You didn’t give him the chance to speak before you chirped in. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“Talked to the PT guy. I’m out for the season.” He explained, his voice trembling. 

You let out a sympathetic sigh, “I’m so sorry, Jack.” 

He shook his head, “No. I should’ve listened to you when you told me to rest it. But my dumbass ego decided to ignore you. And now look what it got me.”

“Hey. This is in no way your fault. Could you have rested? Yes. But, if the trainers didn’t believe you were fine enough you wouldn’t even have had the choice to pick.” You placed your hand on his non-injured shoulder, “You picked your team. You picked the game that you love. You went all the way until it stopped you and that is not your fault.”

Taking a minute to process your words, Jack blinked, his eyes never leaving yours. He opted to not respond, instead just leaned his body into you, wanting to be held. 

“I’ve got you, my love. No matter what you have to do or how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

“Thank you.” Was the last thing he mumbled before settling in the warmth of your chest, pushing you back onto the couch so the two of you could sleep.

I beg you don't embarrass me

Mother fucker ohhh

Please please please

“All right. Big impression number two.” Jack joked, trying to ease your nerves. 

He had met your parents. Now it was time for you to meet his grandparents. You had already met Jim and Ellen, but somehow meeting their parents seemed a lot more intimidating.

Jack noticed your eyes trained on the floor, so he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, causing your gaze to shift to him. 

“They’ll love you. I’ve told them how helpful you’ve been throughout this whole thing and they said they can’t wait to meet you. Just relax.” He explained, his words calming you just a bit. 

One knock from the door was all it took before Ellen opened the door, immediately pulling you in for a hug. “Hi! How are you?”

You laughed at her joyful reaction, “I’m doing great, you?”

She let out a sigh, “Jim’s mother is driving me nuts. I swear, you can’t cook one meal without that woman getting involved. I love her but, jeez.” She turned her attention to her second son, “How are you, Jack? How’s the shoulder?”

“It’s getting there. As for your Nana problem, I’m sure Y/N could be a good mediator,” Jack suggested, sending you a wink as you turned to look back at him with wide eyes.

Ellen gasped, “Oh you’re right! Would you mind, Y/N?” 

You hesitated, “Um. Sure, why not?”

Jack’s mom pulled you by the hand into the kitchen, Jack’s laughter fading behind you as he stepped into the warmth of the house, shutting the door behind him.

If you wanna go and be stupid

Don't do it in front of me

If you don't wanna cry to my music

Don't make me hate you prolifically

Please x9

“Goddamn it, Jack.” You mumbled to yourself, seeing his sling on the kitchen bar with a sticky note with ‘sorry! <3” on it in rushed handwriting. 

He had told you he was just going to go watch his Dad and brothers golf but had a change of plans. You sighed and pulled out your phone, taking a picture of the scene in front of you and sending it to Jack.

y/n 

Seriously?

jack

Whoops

You let out a grumble at his response, grabbing the sling and the keys to the golf cart before driving up to the country club. 

After a few circles around the holes, you spotted Jack and his family. You stepped on the pedal, rushing to get up before Jack had a go. 

“Alright, Jacky. Your go.” Quinn stated, sitting in the golf cart, ready to observe his brother’s swing. 

Unfortunately for Jack, you were faster. “Jack Rowden Hughes!”

The Hughes’ men’s eyes widened at the sound of your voice, especially Jack’s. They all turned around to look at you, a look in your eyes that could only be described as crazy. 

You stomped over to Jack, ignoring the rest of the guys. You shoved the sling into his chest, crossing your arms immediately after. 

“Jack, you can’t be golfing right now! The doctor said you have two more weeks with that thing!” You exclaimed. 

Quinn spoke up, “Two weeks? Rowdy, you told us your doctor cleared you.”

Jack let out a sigh as his cover had been blown, “Just wanted to golf.” He mumbled. 

You scoffed, “I’ve worked my ass off for you and this is what you do? I’ve taken care of your meds, when you’re supposed to take them, washing that thing for you because you couldn’t. Doing all the work around your house so that you wouldn’t have to and Luke could focus on finishing his rookie year, and this is what you do?” 

Everyone was silent as you scolded Jack, knowing fully well you were right. You had picked up the slack around his and Luke’s shared apartment throughout his recovery, and the fact that he wanted to disregard all of that for a game of golf was disrespectful. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath, “I just wanted to get out here before summer’s over and Quinn leaves for Vancouver and Luke and I for Jersey. All I wanted was a normal summer, leave my injury at the door, you know?”

You gave him a soft smile, “I get that, but Jack. You’re almost at the point where you can do all of this, without having to worry about anything else. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so many things for this, don’t throw it away for something you can do in two weeks.”

“She’s right, son.” Jim spoke, “We know you love golfing, but you love hockey just as much. Don’t ruin the progress you’ve made, all right?”

Jack nodded, “Yeah. Thanks, Dad.” He shifted his attention back to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably light yourself on fire.” Luke chirped, gaining a laugh from all of you.

You pulled Jack into a hug, taking his hand and guiding him to sit next to his brother.

[lesservillain]

best friend!eddie x reader

cw: SMUT, unprotected piv, pregnancy scare, one sided feelings, sort of sad at the end? an: the prequel to baby daddy!eddie but could be read as a stand alone if you wanted wc: 3.4k

A few years ago…

Music played on the stereo in Gareth’s garage, filling the house through the cracked door that connected to the house. The host himself was passed out on his living room couch, the rest of the boys laughing at him for falling asleep. The only ones left at the party were Jeff, Grant, Eddie and you, the few other guests who came to celebrate their graduations left not long ago.

You rolled your eyes as they placed Gareth’s hand in a bowl of water, a prank that one of them heard would make someone piss themselves in their sleep. Instead of taking part in their stupid prank, you chose to help out with cleaning up. Empty beer cans and other snack bags started filling up the trashcan as you made your way around the kitchen.

“What are you in here doing, sweetheart?”

You turn to see Eddie leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, watching you as you pick up more trash.

“Trying to be helpful,” you say, shoving as much trash into the can as you possibly can. Eddie laughs, pushing off from the frame to walk over to you. He grabs the bag from the can and proceeds to tie it. You smile up at him. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he says after a moment of looking at you. You get an overwhelming feeling of domesticity as you watch Eddie take the bag out the back door. You watch him through the window as he places the bag in the can. Lighting up a cigarette, he waves at you from the cans, and you feel your cheeks grow hot from being caught staring. 

Eddie was your best friend. Has been since he moved to Hawkins back in 4th grade. The two of you met after you spent the summer in the trailer park where his uncle and your grandma both live in. You rolled with most of the kids there, but Eddie was like a new toy to you. 

He was hard to get out of his shell at first, mostly due to traumas you weren’t aware of at the time. In retrospect, you really pushed him hard, ever persistent in your daily trips to Wayne’s trailer to get him to come out. But when he finally did agree to play with you, the two of you became immediately inseparable. 

Everyone always joked about the two of you spending so much time together, laughing at the grossed out reactions the two of you would have at the mention of the two of you getting married one day. If your grandma was still alive, she would probably be distraught knowing that you had a massive crush on anyone other than Eddie.

After replacing the trash bag, you decide to join Eddie outside. The cool air feels amazing on your skin. The boys don’t have a lot of friends outside of each other, but when all of them start drinking and playing games they seem to generate a lot of heat in such a small space.

“Want one?” Eddie asks as you approach, smoke billowing from between his lips. You nod and he pulls out his pack. 

“Did you have fun?” You ask as he lights the cigarette for you, your hands brushing as he hands it over. The feeling of your skin touching felt like electricity through your hand.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, taking a drag. “I mean, I think it could have been just the two of us and I would have been happy. I’m just glad to finally not have to go back to that hell hole.”

“I’m happy for you, too,” you smile, taking a step closer to him. “Eddie, you honestly have no idea how proud I am of you. Like, I want to shout from the roof tops that Eddie fucking Munson graduated!”

Eddie giggles at your praise, swaying a bit where he stands from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed tonight. He stretches an arm out and you oblige, accepting his tight embrace. He smells like alcohol, weed, sweat, and notes of cheap cologne that he sprayed on earlier in the evening. It was a bit intoxicating in your current state. 

Drinking either made you super friendy or super horny, and tonight you were heading towards the latter. 

You would never admit it, but you’d been watching Eddie all night. There was an air about him tonight. Call it confidence or call it something else, but it was something you’d never seen in him before. It’s like he’s gotten a new found sense of life knowing that he was finally free to do whatever he wants in life. There was nothing left to tie him down and he knew it.

And, maybe unfortunately, it was doing something for you. You’d never really thought about Eddie like that before, your long time crush on Steve clouding your mind when it came to paying attention to anyone else. But something has…changed.

And after a shot or two that you took with a few of his friends from theater class (those kids are wild), everything he did just seemed to be doing something for you. You almost fell over when he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stomach that you’ve seen a thousand times on on display looking extra lean and just…

“Hey, are you okay?”

You instantly went from feeling good to being super aware of the way Eddie’s body was touching you. With the way he was holding you, his hand rested just above your chest, almost resting on your breast. The veins in is hand seemed more prominent, the rings on his fingers suiting his hands well.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, letting go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. When he doesn’t say anything, you slowly turn to look at him. Which was a mistake, because the way he was staring at you took your breath away again. His big brown eyes stared into yours, lidded in a way that made you want to squirm.

“Eddie? Are you good?”

He doesn’t respond, only blinks. His gaze shifts, flickering back and forth between your lips and your eyes and you feel your stomach flip. 

This isn’t how best friends look at each other. Friends don't caress your cheek like he does. They don’t pull you in, making your fronts flush with each other. They don’t start to block out the light from the moon as they lean in. Their lips don’t meet yours, and you aren’t supposed to accept it, kissing them back.

But, before you know it, your kiss turns into kisses. Feverish and hungry, tongues dancing in sync like lovers do. You’re not lovers, but you feel that line blurring as your body is being pulled away. 

The two of you don’t disconnect until you suddenly stop. Eddie is the first to break off the kiss, reaching behind him to open the doors of his van where he pulls you in. You don’t protest, gladly jumping in and pushing him down so that he lays under you. You can tell by the look on his face he wasn’t expecting it. His eyes watch you as you pull the van doors closed.

Once they click together, everything happens quickly. Rushed touches and clothes flying in every direction, the two of you melt into each other.

Your perched in his lap, breasts are pressed into him with arms wrapped around his neck as you almost eat him alive. His hands rub down the expanse of your back until they land on your ass, palming you underneath your panties as you grind down against him.

Eddie is painfully hard under you. For the brief moment that you looked down at him, you were shocked at the size of the tent in his boxers. It was the one thing about him that you didn’t know anything about after all these years. It sent waves to your core that only made you feel things for him you’d never felt before.

In an attempt to speed things up, you let your hand trail down his chest, his stomach, and down past the hem of his boxers. Your brows shot up when you gripped him, his true size in your hand taking you by surprise.

“Mmmm, shit,” he moans under you, and your breath hitches. You watch him carefully as his face contorts in a way that you’ve never seen; a new side of Eddie that you feel privileged to witness.

And then his his hand is on your head, guiding your mouth up and down on his huge cock. Tears threaten to fall down your cheeks with how far down your throat he tries to get you. But you do your best to take it like a champ. Especially with how he praises you.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” The words fall from his lips like flowing water. He lost the barrier to keep his thoughts to himself as soon as you took your bra off. “Please don’t stop.”

How could you possibly deny him? You can’t. You blow him better than you ever have before, until his thighs are clenching around your head. You were fully expecting him to blow his load in your mouth at this point and you would have let him. But he pops you off of him and holds you in his hands until he can catch his breath.

“Eddie, whats wrong?” You ask confused.

“I’m sorry,” he says with heavy breaths, “Didn’t want to waste this chance by cumming too quick.”

Your heart leaped in your chest at his words, insinuating that he wanted more than just a quick bj in the back of his van. You’d never thought you’d be doing this with him, but in your current state Eddie could tell you to kill someone you would without question.

“Okay,” you say with a nod, shifting your body until you were sitting in front of him. There was an awkward pause as the two of you stared at each other. You waited for him to make the next move but it seemed like it was never going to come. You’re sure Eddie is just as wrapped up in the moment as you, so you decide to go ahead and make the next move.

You crawl towards him until you’re sitting just above his lap. His eyes never leave your face, round and in awe of you as you move closer to him. You place a hand on either shoulder and you can feel how tense he is.

“Eddie, are you sure you want to do this?”

He’s frozen for a moment. Until his head begins to nod so quickly he could have given himself brain damage from the speed.

“Yes, yeah, I am. As long as you are…”

“I do, too,” you assure him. You look around the messy interior of his van for a moment before looking back at him. “Do you, um, have a…”

Eddie’s eyes look like they’re about to bulge out of his head as his face shifts into that of a state of panic. He starts to babble, words incoherent until he’s able to form a sentence.

“I-I-I don’t, um, I don’t have any…condoms.” The last word comes out in a hushed tone, almost ashamed as he admits it.

“Well, shit,” you say, finger coming to tap against your lip as you think. You’d never done it without a condom before, and even if you trusted Eddie, the last thing you two needed was an accident to happen.

“I’m sorry, I just--I’ve never done this, so--”

“Wait, what?” You say, stopping him in his tracks. He looks up at you like he said something wrong and it kills you. “Eddie,” you try and keep your tone as neutral as possible, “Are you…still a virgin?”

Eddie swallows, eyes now looking anywhere but you. Eddie’s never brought up anything about his sex life before to you, but you’d not really been all that open with him for that very reason. But you’d always assumed it was just a mutual respect thing, not that he didn’t have anything to share to begin with.

“It’s okay if you are,” you add, “It doesn’t bother me.”

Eddie looks at you again, though now with cheeks pinker than ever. He sighs, nodding once again, but with less vigor than before.

“Yeah, I’m a…virgin.”

Something inside you flips when you hear him admit it out loud. A giddy feeling inside takes over your thoughts as you come to a realization.

“Do you want me to help you change that?”

You barely recognized your own words, and the look that Eddie gave you told you that it came out just as suggestive as you intended. 

“Are you sure?” He stutters out, “I don’t want you to do it because you feel like you have to--”

“Shhh,” you shush him, placing a finger on his lips. “I’m doing this because I want to,” you say, lowering yourself so that the tip of his cock sits right at your entrance. You feel it jump in your hand at the contact. “You just have to say the word.”

Eddie’s eyes are locked where the two of you touch, his breath hitching as your juices coat his thick head. 

“Please,” he says, still looking between you. “I want to.”

You smile, a heat taking over your body as you realize what you’re about to do. But, you try not to let the idea of taking your best friends virginity take you out of the moment. You had to be in charge here and you didn’t want to let Eddie down.

Without a second thought, you start to lower yourself down on him. He’s bigger than you’ve been with before, so you take your time to work him in since you didn’t get any prep before hand.

“Wait,” he says suddenly, stopping you just as you get the tip all the way in. 

“What, what’s wrong?” You ask, starting to pull off of him. But his hands land on your hips to keep you in place.

“I want to do this. Like, you have no idea how much I want this right now. But, what about the no condom thing?”

You blink, thinking quickly over your options. The two of you are too intoxicated to go and get a condom right now. Plus, he’s already technically inside of you, so what good would one do that pulling out wouldn’t, right?

“Just…when you’re about to cum, just tell me and I’ll get off. Okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you want me to change my mind?”

Eddie mimics zipping his lips, and you roll your eyes at his playfulness.

“Can I continue now?” He nods again, giving you a thumbs up.

You try to get yourself back into the moment by slowly moving up and down, focusing on the feeling of Eddie’s cock inching deeper and deeper inside of you with each movement. Eddie’s head rolls back and you feel his hips bucking subconsciously beneath you. 

You decide not to torment him anymore and fully seat yourself in his lap. He bucks forward, face colliding with your chest as he’s taken aback by the feeling. 

“You okay?” You say with a giggle, though you’re barely holding back a moan yourself at feeling his cock fully stretching you. 

“Mhmm,” he whimpers into your skin, the grip he has on your hips almost bruising. 

“Do you want me to give you a minute?”

He shakes his head. “No, please move.”

And so you do. You take your time at first, really to give yourself ample opportunity to prepare to take him at a faster pace. But with the sounds he’s making, you feel yourself getting wet enough that you can bounce yourself on his cock with more ease. He keeps his face burried in your chest as you move up and down on his cock.

Eddie’s hands loosen on your hips and move themselves up your sides until they land on your breasts. He holds them around his face, fondling and groping as they rub against his face. He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, licking and teething at it softly, sending little shocks of pleasure through you.

All of the feelings were honestly a lot for you to take in. And the more you looked down at him the quicker your own orgasm was approaching. You let yourself forget about his pleasure for a moment as you chased your own high, fully seating yourself to let the thick patch of hair at his base rub deliciously against your clit. You rolled your hips against him and he whined into your chest.

Suddenly, your vision goes white as you feel yourself cumming on his cock. Your body starts to shake, and you’re pussy spasms around him, coating him in your cum.

“Is that you cumming? Holy fuck, I--”

There wasn’t much time to react as your pussy was suddenly being filled. Eddie’s body tenses under you as you’re only just now coming down from your own high. But when you finally realize what was happening, you jump up as fast as you can, head hitting the top of his van.

“Fuck! Damn it, Eddie!”

He snaps out of his post orgasm bliss and jumps up after you, also hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. 

“Shit! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Eddie’s never been more panicked in his life than right now. Not even when he almost got caught by Hopper selling out in the woods. “I can fix this! I-I-I-”

“Eddie, how the hell are you going to fix this? Fuck me, this is my fault. I should have just said no when you said you didn’t have a condom.”

“No, please don’t be mad,” he says, grabbing your arms and giving you the most pathetic, sad look you’ve ever seen. 

“Do you have any money?” You ask him after a moment.

“I probably have like $3 to my name right now. Why?”

“Shit, I just paid my car payment so I only have like $10. I was going to say we could run to the pharmacy and get a Plan B.”

“What’s that?” 

“It’s like a pill that’s supposed to keep you from getting pregnant. But they’re, like, $20 or something crazy like that.”

“I’ll go to Rick. I can probably get some supply from him and sell it in a couple days.”

“I think it only works like the next day. It’s called the morning after pill for a reason I think.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” 

“What about Wayne?”

“I can’t go to Wayne.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom?”

You sigh. He had a point. There was no way you could ask your mom without her asking why. And money was already tight so there wasn’t a good excuse to make up for you needing $20 out of the blue. 

“You know what, it’s fine.” You say, convincing yourself that it was. “My period should be coming soon, so I think we’re okay.”

“How soon is soon?” Eddie asks, clearly not convinced.

“Like, in a week and a half? Usually around the beginning of the month.”

Eddie breaths in, then out, head slumping. He drops to his knees before you and you can see his body start to shake.

“Eddie?” You drop down to his level and get a look at his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and it sent an arrow through your heart to see him so upset.

“I’m so sorry.” His words come out watery, his head starting to shake. “I didn’t want this to be how it happened.”

His words hit you like a truck. Of course he didn’t want his first time to be like this. He probably wanted it to be with someone he loved, not with his friend, and definitely not with the possibility of getting you pregnant. 

Guilt washed over you. You should have been the better person and not given in to your sick desire to share something like this with him. 

But it’s too late.

You can only hope that this doesn’t ruin your friendship forever.

than you for reading!

[twitchmattentusiast]

( twitchmattenthusiasts kinktober ! )

“ SOME HOCUS POCUS TYPE SHIT. “

pairings. enemies to lovers + brothers bsf!matt.

warnings. body switching, spells, spanking, bondage, use of toys. switch matt x oc but mostly sub!matt tbh. slight mommy kink major daddy kink.

EXTRA warning: this is kinky as shit, so be warned! oc and matt are ENEMY enemies, so them having sex is going to be rough as fuck and they’re going to take their frustration out on each other, so um, this is your warning! it’s an oc just because i felt it made more sense! 

“this is stupid as shit.”

"you’re stupid as shit." matt instantly shoots back.

bianca rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she trails behind matt. she’s annoyed as shit right now. if she's being honest, she didn't even want to come to this stupid escape room in the first place, but chris and nate wouldn't get off her back and begged her to come, promising she wouldn't be anywhere near matt, but of course it's just her luck that she's lost her best friends and her brother and has ended up with matt. 

matt rolls his eyes dramatically as bianca goes on yet another rant about how this is her worst freaking nightmare ever. “oh my god, can you shut the fuck up for once? it’s not like i want to be stuck here with your annoying ass either. let’s just find the fucking clues and get out of here already.”

he turns back towards the room, scanning the walls and shelves for anything that might help them escape. “stop fucking whining and actually look for something useful, would you? the sooner we get out of here, the better. i’m tired of being stuck with a fucking brat like you.”

bianca scoffs, following behind matt as he walks into a room. "are you fucking kidding me?" she yells. "i’m the one who's been looking for clues; all you've done is fuckin stand there and text your stupid hoes instead of actually doing shit!”

matt ignores bianca’s bitchy comment, continuing to browse through the various items scattered around the room. he picks up a small vial filled with clear liquid, examining it closely before setting it back down again.

“whatever," he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. “keep being a little bitch about everything."

“you’re an asshole, you know that?”

matt shrugs nonchalantly, not bothering to hide his smirk. “so what if i am? at least i’m not some uptight bitch like you."

he moves further into the room, poking around shelves and drawers with little regard for their contents. his gaze lands on a collection of old, dusty bottles, and he starts to grab them, examining each one curiously.

“what the fuck is this shit?" he asks, holding up a bottle with strange symbols etched onto its surface. “looks like some kind of potion or something."

bianca shrugs, looking down at her nails. “probably fake or somethi-“ she’s cut off when matt suddenly opens the bottle and starts sticking his nose in it. “what the fuck are you doing?”

"chill the fuck out, will ya?" matt retorts, ignoring bianca’s warning.

“it’s probably just some lame-ass decoration or something." he sniffs the contents of the bottle, wrinkling his nose at the strong scent. “that smells weird as fuck.”

bianca rolls her eyes, watching as matt continues to mess around with the strange bottles. she lets out an exasperated sigh, clearly growing more impatient by the second.

"you’re such a dumbass sometimes, you know that?" she huffs, shaking her head in disbelief. "put those things down before you break something valuable, yeah?"

matt tosses the bottle aside carelessly, not giving a flying fuck about bianca’s complaints. “relaxx, princess. it’s not like i’m gonna break anything important."

his gaze falls upon another bottle, this one filled with a dark, murky liquid. curiosity getting the better of him, matt unscrews the cap and takes a long swig directly from the container. “tastes like cheap vodka," he remarks with a smirk, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “not bad for some ancient relic shit."

“there’s actually no way you just drank that shit.” bianca complains, looking at matt in total disgust. 

matt shrugs, ignoring the looks of disgust she shoots him. he runs his fingers along another set of bottles. picking a white one up, he twists the lid, holding it close to his nose as he takes another whiff. “you’ll like this one b.” he tells her, holding the bottle out to her, "smells like malibu.”

“malibu?” bianca asks curiously. she appears right behind matt, looking down at the bottle. malibu being her favorite drink. 

matt grins slyly, noticing bianca’s interest “yeah, smells just like it. too bad it's probably not the real deal or you'd be sucking this shit down like a champ, huh?"

bianca snatches the bottle from matt’s hand, uncapping it quickly and bringing it to her nose. her eyes widen in delight as the familiar scent fills her nostrils.

"see, i told ya it smelled like the good stuff." matt smirks, watching bianca eagerly sniff the bottle.

"go ahead and take a shot, princess. live a little for once in your life." he gestures for her to drink it, a mischievous glint in his eye. “unless you're too much of a pussy to handle it." he taunts, knowing full well how competitive bianca is.

“cmonn, i dare ya." matt pushes, wanting to see if she'll rise to the challenge. “drink it all down like a good girl." he goads, egging her on relentlessly.

bianca hesitates for a moment, her competitive nature warring with her common sense. but the allure of the familiar scent and taste proves too tempting to resist. with a defiant glare at matt, she tilts her head back and pours the mysterious liquid straight down her throat.

bianca gasps, her face contorting in surprise as the potent liquor burns its way down her throat. “fuck that shits strong.” she coughs, sputtering as she tries to catch her breath.

but despite the initial shock, bianca can't deny the thrill that courses through her veins. she feels a rush of excitement at pushing past her limits. "guess you were right about it tasting like malibu,"

matt chuckles, enjoying every moment of bianca’s discomfort. “see? told ya it wasn't so bad."

his gaze drifts over to the other containers still untouched on the shelf. picking up another bottle, he examines it carefully before opening it and taking a deep sniff.

“matt that literally says ‘do not touch’”

matt waves off bianca’s concern with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “relax, it's probably just some stupid warning label.”

he rolls his eyes as bianca shoots him a look. “cmon, bianca what’s the worst that could happen?”

bianca scowls, crossing her arms over her chest. "i don't know, maybe we get turned into frogs or something?"

her words come out more sarcastic than genuinely worried, but there's a hint of unease beneath the surface.

with a careless shrug, matt pops open the bottle and brings it to his lips, not caring about the consequences. “cmon b don’t be such a pussy."

bianca rolls her eyes. as she reaches for it, a strange sensation washes over her—a tingling warmth spreading from her fingertips up her arm. it’s just for a moment though, and it goes completely unnoticed as bianca takes a long chug of bottle like matt did.

“happy now?” she asks, sarcastically handing matt the bottle.

before matt can even respond, a man suddenly appears out of nowhere. staring at the both of them curiously. “did you drink that?”

bianca opens her mouth about to reply when matt speaks first. "nahh,” he says, lying smoothly. “just lookin at em.”

the stranger narrows his eyes suspiciously at matt’s denial, clearly not buying it, but doesn’t say anything else. he nods his head towards bianca, who’s standing really close to matt because the guys are honestly freaking her the fuck out right now. “you two are from that group, aren’t you?” 

“umm . . . yeah.?”

the stranger nods his head. “interesting,” he says. “you two get along?”

matt snorts at the question, shaking his head. "hardly. this bitch here thinks she's queen of everything, always trying to tell me what to do."

bianca bristles at his harsh words, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “shut up, matt!" she spits back, her voice venomous. “at least i’m not a complete asshole!"

the stranger watches them with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

the stranger clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “you wish he could step into your shoes sometimes huh? to see what you have to deal with?” he asks bianca curiously.

“oh all the time!” she instantly replies.

the stranger smiles. he shoots matt one last glance before turning around. “i think i know where your group is if you want to follow me.”

matt and bianca are instantly hot on his heels.

it’s been two hours now since the group left the escape room. they’re all at nate and bianca’s, chilling in their living rooms as the triplets are planning to spend the night.

bianca gets up from the couch, stretching her arms as an yawn escapes. “gonna head to bed,” she tells nate. her brother nodding her head and wishing her a good night. “night,” she says, rolling her eyes as matt flips her off.

she heads to her room, instantly jumping into her bed and turning the lights off. more than ready to welcome sleep. today had been a longgg day.

bianca groans, still half asleep, as she moves around the bed. she moves her arms, and her arms hit the back of someone. she sits up in confusion, wondering what the fuck chris is doing in her room. suddenly needing something to drink, bianca quickly shuffles out the room.

she moves down the stairs, her body feeling suddenly really heavy. she’s still half asleep until she stops in the hallway mirror and freezes as she sees matt staring back at her. “what the fuck?” she exclaims, and her eyes are wide as matt’s deep voice fills her ears. she moves her hand around in confusion, thinking it’s a nightmare or her mind is playing tricks on her, but matters follows her back in the mirror.

with wide eyes, bianca quickly moves up the stairs and dashes straight to her room, where she finds herself sleeping peacefully on her bed. only it’s not her, it’s matt.

matt starts to stir slightly as bianca moves around the room. “bianca?” matt says, rubbing his eyes slightly. he’s instantly confused as he realises he’s in bianca’s room. he’s even more confused when he removes his fingers and finds a fresh manicure set on his nails. “what the fuck?!” matt exclaims as he looks up and finds his own body staring at him.

matt blinks rapidly, struggling to comprehend the bizarre situation unfolding before him. his gaze darts between his own body standing there in shock and the unfamiliar female form he now inhabits.

“what the actual fuck?" he mutters under his breath, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. “this isn't possible..."

he swings his legs over the side of the bed, standing up gingerly as if testing whether this reality is indeed real. matt’s hands instinctively move to cover his chest, feeling the soft swell of breasts beneath the thin fabric of bianca’s tank top.

“did . . . did you do this?" he demands accusingly, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at his former self. “is this some kind of sick joke?"

“you think i did this?” bianca exclaims. “i didn’t fucking do shit!”

“well, it sure as fuck wasn't me!" matt retorts defensively, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he's now in a woman's body. "so how the fuck did this happen?"

bianca crosses her arms over her chest, her expression a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. "i don’t know, okay? maybe it was those weird drinks at the escape room or that creepy guy who showed us the way back. but whatever it was, i didn't do it!"

“this is insane bianca.” matt exclaims. “some hocus pocus shit!”

bianca rolls her eyes dramatically. "spare me the dramatics," she says. "we need to focus on getting back to our own bodies and-“ she pauses as she watches matt stand in front of the mirror, smirking as he moves bianca’s hands over her tits. well, technically matt’s hands since he’s in her body, but-

“what are you doing!”

matt chuckles lowly, his eyes never leaving his reflection in the mirror as he continues to explore his new feminine curves. “just seeing what i’ve got here," he says nonchalantly, giving one of bianca’s breasts a light squeeze through the thin material of her tank top. bianca glares at him, and matt chuckles.

“oh, come on, b, i’m a guy, of course i’m going to want to touch some tits,“ he pauses as he turns around, smirking when he looks down at bianca-well himself. “holy shit, you’re hard!” he laughs.

bianca’s face flushes bright red as she stammers, unable to look away from the obvious bulge in her shorts. "shut up! it’s not like i wanted this to happen!" she protests weakly, crossing her arms over her chest again in a futile attempt to hide her embarrassment.

matt lets out a low whistle, his smirk growing wider as he takes in the sight of his own erection straining against bianca’s shorts. “admit it, b. this is kinda hot, isn't it? being in each other's skin, touching ourselves..." his hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingertips grazing her cheek. “we could have some fun with this..."

bianca swats his hand away, her cheeks burning with a mix of anger and arousal. "don’t get any ideas, pervert!" she snaps, but her voice wavers slightly. she can't deny the thrill of exploring her own body through matt’s eyes, the forbidden excitement of being touched by another person - especially her sworn enemy.

matt’s grin widens at bianca’s reaction, sensing her inner turmoil. he steps closer, invading her personal space as he leans in to whisper in her ear. “come on, b, don’t pretend you're not curious. we’re stuck like this for god knows how long... might as well make the most of it."

“you did say you wanted me to see what it’s like to be in your shoes. why don’t you be in my shoes and be me?”

bianca smirks suddenly. “you want me to act like you?”

matt nods eagerly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "you act like me," he says, trailing his manicured fingers down his own chest, which feels weird as shit but strangely excites matt and bianca’s body, "and i’ll act like you.”

bianca raises an eyebrow skeptically. "fine, you're on." she steps back and folds her arms across her chest, mimicking matt’s typical stance.

matt stares at her in confusion, waiting for her to do something. when suddenly bianca pushes him against the wall. matt gasps, feeling the weight of his own body being strange but oddly arousing as bianca reaches down to choke matt with his own hands. 

“what the fuck?” he manages to gasp out, despite the strangling pressure. but instead of fighting back, matt’s hips involuntarily buck forward, grinding against bianca's buldge. “fuck, b, that's...not bad actually."

bianca releases the chokehold and smirks down at matt, her chest heaving. "like that, huh?" she purrs.

matt nods, panting lightly as he looks up at bianca through hooded eyes. “yeah, keep going," he urges, biting his lip.

bianca smirks. “you know matt...” she trails as she pushes a strand of his hair behind his ear. “you’ve been a really bad boy these last few months. always complaining, talking back to me, and shit, and you knew i couldn’t do anything when i was in my body, but since i’m in your body, i can treat you like the slut you are, huh, baby?”

matt swallows thickly, his breath catching in his throat as bianca leans in close, her words dripping with seductive menace. “fuck," *he whispers, squirming under her intense gaze. “do your worst, princess."

bianca grins wickedly before spinning matt around to face the mirror. she positions herself behind him, pressing her clothed body against his backside as her hands roam over his tits and stomach. "look at yourself, matty," she coos, her hot breath tickling his ear. "such a pretty little thing, aren't you?"

her fingers deftly unbutton his shorts and slip inside, running softly against her wet cunt "mmm, so wet already," she murmurs approvingly. "guess being in my body and getting treated like a whore turns you on doesn’t it?”

matt whimpers, his hips bucking into bianca’s touch as her fingers tease along his soaked slit. "yes, fuck, just like that," he moans shamelessly, his eyes locked onto their reflection. the sight of bianca’s hand disappearing into his shorts, coupled with the delicious friction against his clit, sends jolts of pleasure coursing through his borrowed body.

"please, b, more," he begs, his voice high-pitched and needy. In this moment, he's completely surrendered to the sensations, to the taboo thrill of being used by his mortal enemy while trapped in her skin.

bianca chuckles darkly, revelling in matt’s desperation. she pulls her hand out of his shorts and brings her slick fingers to his lips. "open up, slut," she commands, smearing his juices across his mouth. "taste how much you want this."

matt obediently sucks her digits clean, keeping eye contact as he does so. bianca and walks to the bed, sitting down on it and patting her lap for matt to sit on. 

matt saunters over to bianca, swaying his hips seductively as he settles himself on her lap, straddling her thighs. he grinds down against her, relishing the friction of their clothed sexes rubbing together.

“‘s this what you want, princess?" he purrs, draping his arms around her neck. “for me to be your little toy?" matt captures her lips in a filthy kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste himself on her mouth. he rocks his hips faster, chasing the building pleasure, desperate for more.

breaking the kiss with a gasp, matt rests his forehead against hers, panting heavily. “use me," he breathes. “make me yours." he says whining exactly how he imagines bianca does.

bianca flips their positions, pinning matt beneath her on the bed. she looms over him, drinking in the debauched sight of his flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. "gonna ruin you, baby," she promises darkly, hooking her fingers in his waistband and tugging his shorts down his legs. her gaze rakes hungrily over his exposed flesh, lingering on the glistening pink folds of his bare cunt.

matt gasps as bianca tears off his shorts, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. he writhes beneath her domineering presence, craving more of her rough touches. his pussy throbs with need, visibly swollen and aching to be filled.

“you’ve wanted this forever,” matt challenges with a sultry smirk. “to have me completely at your mercy.”’he reaches up to grasp bianca’s face, pulling her in for another searing kiss, his hips rolling upwards to grind against her.

“take what you want,”

bianca smirks, as she reaches into her bedside table to grab a vibrator matt watches as she sticks it in his pussy, jolting slightly as it turns on. matt instantly moans. no wonder girls like this shit. 

matt lets out a guttural moan as the buzzing sensation washes over him, his back arching off the bed. his eyes roll back, lids fluttering shut in ecstasy. he begins to ride the vibrator with wild abandon, his hips jerking erratically to meet each thrust.

“ohh fuck” he cries out, sounding eerily like bianca.

matt's entire demeanor shifts, adopting bianca’s sassy tone and confident air. he spreads his legs further apart, as if eager to show off the pleasure he's experiencing. jis hands move to grip the sheets, knuckles white with tension.

“fuck, i’m gonna cum," he warns, voice breathless and husky. “don’t stop, please..."

bianca keeps the vibrator going strong, watching intently as matt’s orgasm builds. she leans down, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss as he starts to shake and twitch beneath her. when he finally comes undone, bianca drinks in every moan and whimper, feeling the ripples of his climax against the vibrator.

bianca keeps the vibrator on and matt’s eyes widen. she pulls down matt’s boxers. “you gonna be a good girl and suck my cock?”

now bianca was joking. when matt said that she should act like her she took it as a joke, but surprise etches onto a face and a smirk forms when matt whines bucking his (her) hips in the air as he says “yes daddy.”

now bianca was joking. when matt said that she should act like her, she took it as a joke, but surprise etches onto a face, and a smirk forms when matt whines, bucking his (her) hips in the air as he says, “yes, daddy.”

bianca’s cock starts to sit even more uncomfortably, matt’s words making her harder. turns out a girl lying there spreading her legs open turns a guy like matt on a lot.

bianca grabs matt’s chin firmly, forcing him to look up at her as she strokes her hardening cock. "open wide, bitch," she growls, her voice dripping with dominance.

matt parts his lips obediently, submitting to bianca’s demands. she presses the tip of her dick against his mouth, teasing him with the salty flavor of pre-cum. "take it all," bianca commands, pushing forward until her cock fills matt’s mouth completely.

matt starts bobbing his head, sucking lewdly on bianca’s cock. he hollows his cheeks and swirls his tongue around the sensitive head, coaxing out more precum to swallow. the vibrator continues to buzz insistently between matt’s legs, prolonging his aftershocks and keeping him intensely aroused.

matt takes bianca’s cock greedily, swallowing around the thick girth stretching his jaw. he hums in approval, sending delicious vibrations along bianca’s length. matt looks up through his lashes, gazing adoringly at bianca as he worships her dick with his mouth.

the combination of sensations - the vibrator still buried in his cunt, the weight of bianca’s cock heavy on his tongue - is overwhelming. tears prick at the corners of matt’s eyes from the effort of deep-throating bianca, but he doesn't relent. he wants to please her completely, to feel her release coating his throat.

matt grips bianca’s thighs for support as he picks up the pace, sucking hard and fast. his pussy leaks into the sheets “fuck daddy”

bianca smirks, her cock pulsing in matt’s mouth as he calls her 'daddy'. she grips his hair tighter, guiding his head up and down her cock. "that’s right, baby," she purrs. "such a good little slut for daddy."

the degrading words only seem to spur matt on further. he sucks harder, hollowing his cheeks and swirling his tongue around bianca’s sensitive cock. lewd slurping noises fill the room as spit dribbles down his chin.

bianca’s balls tighten, signaling her release. she holds matt’s head steady, fucking his face with quick, shallow thrusts. "you gonna swallow every drop like a good girl?”

matt whimpers around bianca’s cock, nodding frantically in response. he can taste the impending orgasm, the tang of salt mingling with the musk of arousal. as bianca’s thrusts become erratic, matt opens wide, letting her flood his mouth with her cum

he swallows convulsively, gulping down every thick rope of cum. some escapes past his lips, trickling down his chin to join the mess on the sheets below. matt’s own pussy clenches around the vibrator, milking it for all it's worth as he savors the taste of bianca’s release.

bianca pulls out of matt’s mouth with a wet pop, smirking down at the debauched sight before her. matt’s lips are swollen and slick with saliva and cum, his hair mussed from bianca’s rough handling. she traces a finger along his jawline, gathering some of the stray drops and bringing them to his lips.

“clean yourself up, slut," bianca commands, pressing her finger into matt’s mouth. he obeys without hesitation, lapping at her digit with his skilled tongue until it's spotless.

satisfied, bianca withdraws her hand and stands up, admiring how matt looks spread out on the bed - flushed and needy, his pussy glistening with arousal. she trails a hand down his chest, tweaking a nipple roughly before continuing lower.

“you wanna come again?" she teases. she’s half surprised that she’s managing to play the role of matt so well. and also even more surprised that he’s even letting her it’s almost too suspicious if she’s being honest.

matt whines softly, his body craving more stimulation. he nods eagerly, his gaze locked onto bianca’s hand as it inches closer to his soaked folds.

“yes, please... daddy..." he whispers, the word slipping out unbidden once more. matt bites his lip, blushing furiously at his own submission. but the desire coursing through him overrides any embarrassment.

bianca’s fingers brush against his sensitive clit, making matt gasps and buck his hips. he’s painfully aware of the vibrator still buried inside him, the constant thrumming driving him wild with need.

“i want... i need..." matt trails off, unable to articulate exactly what he craves. all he knows is that he's never felt so desperate, so consumed by lust.

bianca chuckles darkly, amused by matt’s desperation. she circles his clit with a finger, applying just enough pressure to make him squirm. "tell me what you need, baby," she coaxes, leaning down to whisper hotly in his ear. "i’ll give it to you."

matt whimpers, his body trembling under her touch. "please... use your fingers... fuck me with them..." he begs, his voice barely above a whisper. "make me come, daddy..."

bianca smirks, pleased by matt’s complete surrender. she slides two fingers into his soaked pussy, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside him. matt cries out, his back arching off the bed as pleasure crashes over him.

“that’s it, take it," bianca purrs, pumping her fingers in and out of matt’s clenching heat.

matt's mind goes blank, overwhelmed by the intense sensation of bianca’s fingers violating his most intimate space. he’s never felt so full, so stretched, and yet it's precisely what he needs.

“fuck, yes!" he chants, his hips rocking to meet bianca’s thrusts. the vibrator continues to buzz away, adding another layer of stimulation that threatens to push him over the edge.

“daddy, ‘m... i’m gonna..." matt’s words trail off into incoherent moans as bianca’s fingers find that magic spot inside him again and again. his walls flutter and clench, trying to milk her digits for all they're worth.

with a keening wail, matt’s orgasm hits him like a freight train. his vision whites out, his body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy rips through him.

bianca smirks seeing matt whimper as she removes the vibrator. she takes a minute to admire how fucked out matt looks already without actually being fucked, and then without warning, she flips matt over, leaving him on his stomach and pointing his ass up in the air as she quickly lines up behind him. 

matt gasps as he feels bianca’s hard cock pressing against his entrance, stretching him open. he clutches at the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white as he tries to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“fuckk... so big..." he groans, feeling impossibly full. matt rocks his hips back tentatively, relishing the burn of the stretch.

the new position allows bianca to fuck him even deeper, hitting places inside him that matt didn't know could feel so good. he lets out a strangled moan, his face buried in the pillow to muffle the sound.

“more ... please, daddy... fuck me harder..." matt pleads shamelessly, completely lost to the pleasure consuming him. he clenches around bianca’s cock, urging her to move faster, deeper, anything to satisfy the aching need building within him once more.

matt’s moans start to grow louder. “shut the fuck up!” bianca hisses, spanking matt’s ass. “you don’t want nate to hear us, do you? don’t want your brothers to walk in and see you getting fucked like a slut? you gotta be quiet, matt.”

matt yelps at the sharp slap, his cheeks burning with a mix of pain and arousal. he immediately clamps his mouth shut, biting back a scream as bianca continues to pound into him relentlessly.

panting heavily, matt nods frantically, his mind racing with the taboo scenario bianca just painted. the thought of getting caught by nate or chris while being used so thoroughly sends a thrill straight to his core.

he struggles to contain himself, to stifle the noises bubbling up from deep within his throat. it’s a losing battle, however, as bianca’s merciless pace pushes him closer and closer to the brink once more.

“p-please... can't... hold it..." matt manages to choke out between gritted teeth, his entire body tensing as another climax approaches.

"that's right, you're gonna cum on my dick like a good little whore," bianca snarls, grabbing a fistful of matt's hair and yanking his head back. "and you're gonna do it quietly, got it?"

matt whimpers, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from the pain in his scalp. but he nods vigorously, desperate to please.

tears stream down matt’s face as bianca holds him in place, her brutal grip on his hair sending jolts of pain through his skull. but even through the discomfort, he can feel the familiar tightening in his gut, the telltale signs that he's teetering on the edge once more.

"yes, daddy... please... i’ll be good, i promise..." matt whimpers, his voice choked with emotion. he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing every ounce of willpower on containing his screams as the pressure builds to a crescendo.

with a low, broken moan, matt’s orgasm rips through him, his inner walls clamping down around bianca’s pistoning cock. his whole body shakes with the force of it, every muscle locked rigid as pleasure floods his senses.

bianca shoots her cun right into him, and matt moans as she starts to fuck it into him. bianca pulls out, and before she can even register what’s happening, matt pushes her so he’s on top.

“my turn,” he smirks, reaching into the drawer to pull out some handcuffs and intensely moving to cuff them to bianca and her bed.

bianca’s eyes are wide. how the fuck did he even know they were there? 

a triumphant grin spreads across matt’s face as he secures bianca’s wrists above her head, the metal cuffs cold against her skin. he steps back to admire their positions, a sense of dominance washing over him now that the tables have turned.

“what?” he asks, smirking as bianca gapes at him. “we said that you’d act like me and i’d act like you, and well, it’s my time to act like you, baby.”

bianca glares at matt, trying to look unimpressed despite her heart pounding in her chest. "oh really? and what exactly does that mean?" she sneers, trying to sound unaffected despite the way her cock is starting to harden.

she squirms slightly in the restraints, testing them. they hold firm. damn it.

matt chuckles darkly, enjoying the sight of bianca struggling futilely against her bonds. he saunters closer, running a finger along her jawline with a possessive touch.

"it means," he purrs, leaning in to whisper hotly in her ear, "you’re going to be a good boy for mommy hm?”

"fuck off, matt." bianca spits, trying to keep her voice steady despite the heat spreading through her body at his words and touch. she tries to jerk her hands free again but the cuffs dig into her wrists painfully, making her wince.

despite herself, a small part of her is curious where he's going with this. what game is he playing now?

matt ignores bianca’s heated retort, instead dropping to his knees beside the bed. he gazes up at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes, trailing a hand down her chest to fondle her growing erection.

“i think we both know you want to be a good boy for me," he coos, giving her cock a squeeze.

with a wicked smile, matt leans in to lick a stripe up the underside of bianca’s cock, making her shudder. he teases her slit with the tip of his tongue, savoring her unique taste before taking her into his mouth.

bianca gasps sharply as matt’s warm, wet mouth envelops her sensitive flesh. despite her best efforts to remain stoic, she can't help but arch into the sensation, a needy whimper escaping her lips.

“mhmm... f-fuck..." she grinds out through clenched teeth, her hips twitching involuntarily as matt begins to bob his head.

matt keeps sucking on bianca’s cock, his tongue swirling around the head. he reaches up and starts to play with her balls, squeezing them gently. he pops off her cock with a loud pop and looks up at her.

matt stands up and moves to straddle bianca’s waist, grinding his own erection against hers. he leans down to capture her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim her mouth thoroughly.

he reaches behind himself to grab bianca’s dripping cock, angling it towards his entrance. slowly, teasingly, he sinks down onto her length, throwing his head back with a guttural groan.

matt feels bianca's hard cock slide into him, filling him completely. the feeling is overwhelming and intense, unlike anything he's ever experienced before. his vision blurs as pleasure courses through him, causing his back to arch instinctively.

his hips begin to move in slow, agonizing circles as he adjusts to the size of her cock. every movement sends jolts of pleasure radiating throughout his body, making him gasp and moan uncontrollably.

bianca grips the cuffs tightly as she watches matt ride her cock, his movements graceful yet desperate. she can see the strain on his face, the way his breath comes in ragged gasps, and it only serves to fuel her arousal further.

“fuck matt.” bianca groans. “untie me please.”

matt slows his hips, gazing down at bianca with a smug, knowing smirk as he hears her pleas. he leans in close, his hot breath ghosting over her ear as he whispers, “not until you beg properly, baby."

with that, he resumes his sensual pace, riding bianca’s cock with renewed vigor. each deliberate thrust makes him cry out in ecstasy, his inner walls clenching rhythmically around her length.

bianca grits her teeth, refusing to give in to matt's demands despite the pleasure coursing through her body. she won't let him win this game between them.

"please..." she finally relents, hating how desperate she sounds. “i need to touch you,"

her hips buck upwards involuntarily, seeking more friction, more contact. the metal cuffs rattle against the headboard with each frantic movement.

at bianca’s plea, a triumphant grin spreads across matt’s face. he continues to roll his hips sensually, relishing the feeling of her hard cock inside him. "there’s a good boy," he purrs approvingly.

with a flourish, he reaches up and uncuffs bianca’s wrists, tossing the restraints aside carelessly. he leans down, pressing his chest flush against hers as he captures her lips in another heated kiss. “touch me then," he challenges breathlessly against her mouth. “show me how much you need it."

without breaking the kiss, bianca runs her hands feverishly over matt’s body, caressing every inch of exposed skin she can reach.

bianca's fingers dance over matt's shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscles before slipping lower to grip his ass cheeks. she squeezes them firmly, pulling him harder against her as their tongues continue to duel.

breaking the kiss momentarily, she nips at his bottom lip before soothing the sting with her tongue. “like this?" she asks huskily, rocking her hips to meet his. “this what you wanted, matt?"

matt whimpers and groans at the intense pleasure of bianca’s touches, his hips stuttering in response to her assertive rocking motion.

“yes, just like that..." he breathes heavily, his eyes rolling back in bliss. “oh fuck yes, right there!"

“you’re so tight, baby," bianca moans. “you gonna let me fill you up hm?”

matt nods frantically, his gaze locked with Bianca's as he pants out, "y-yes, please...i want to feel you come inside me."

his words are punctuated by sharp gasps and whines of delight as bianca’s cock pulses and throbs within him, the sensation bordering on overwhelming.

bianca's grip on matt's ass tightens as she starts to thrust up into him with short, urgent strokes. her breathing grows ragged, each pump of her hips bringing her closer to the edge.

"fuck, matt...gonna cum soon..." she warns, her voice strained with effort. “you ready for it, slut?"

matt throws his head back too, wrapped up in all this pleasure to reply, and whimpers leave his mouth as suddenly he cums. matt moans loudly as bianca shoots her cum into him. 

bianca’s orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave, her vision blurring white as she cries out in ecstasy. she buries her face in the crook of matt’s neck, muffling her screams as her cock spasms wildly inside him, pumping load after load of hot cum deep into him.

matt gasps at the feeling, letting out a moan at how good it feels. they take a second to catch their breaths before matt suddenly pulls himself off of bianca. he avoids her eyes and quickly scrambles to grab her pyjamas. "that was alright; can tell why girls go crazy for my cock now."

 bianca raises her eyebrows and scoffs. "don’t try and play it off like you weren't a needy bitch, matt. you called me daddy."

"so?" matt sasses. he tosses bianca his t-shirt and then climbs back into bed. not saying a single word to her, he snuggles up to her chest. she’s surprised, but matt looks really worn out right now.

 “do you not want to get cleaned up?" she asks softly, moving a piece of hair out of his eye. which again is insane; she still can't believe she's in his body and he's in her, and they just fucked!

"nah," matt shakes his head, his voice coming out in a sleepy tone. "’m too tired; let's just sleep." 

bianca nods her head, watching in amusement as matt buries himself into her neck. "alright, but we're figuring this shit out tomorrow." 

matt nods his head, humming in agreement. "after i masturbate with your vibrator, though, that shit is whack."

bianca rolls her eyes and pulls the covers over them.

｡°✩

okayyyyy i know this is two days later than i promised but listen halloweekend was long and eventful

was this too much or bad i can’t tell if i like it

[nuemanfilms]

— sam fucking dean’s younger friend who he just can’t resist.. and to his surprise, she wants him even more than he thought.

Content warnings piv (unprotected), degrading, pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie), begging, use of degrading names (slut, toy, whore) mentions of dean, sam winchester’s dick (yeah it needs a warning), size kink, age gap (6 years), mention of foreplay, creampie, breeding kink, a little praise at the end.

Summary Sam’s need for you was getting out of hand, luckily, you want him just as bad as he wants you. Even though Dean said you’re off limits.

A/N the poll decided on this !! here, babies <3

Dean was off to interview some of the victims of the recent attacks of a small town in Virginia. The one thing he told Sam was ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’ Which normally Sam would listen, but with you? All self respect was out the window.

This was wrong, you were still a kid! Well, you were twenty, but, you were still a kid to anyone’s eyes.

Sam thought of you much, much differently.

You were mature, you knew how to kick ass, and you definitely knew what you wanted and you were set on getting it. Which is how Sam’s attraction to you formed in the first place.

He just assumed you would never want him back in that way. He was twenty-six, a few years older than you, and you were practically like a younger sister to the brothers’ eyes.

Well, to Dean’s eyes anyways.

He just didn’t think that it would get as far as you sprawled out with your face buried in the pillow with Sam’s tip probing at your wet entrance.

It’s not like he minded, and neither did you.

“You’re so wet, Baby.. do you always get like this around me?” He teased, his hand resting on your ass, before striking his palm down against your right cheek.

You moaned in pleasure, feeling the head of his cock at your entrance. You were practically gushing with arousal, making Sam get even more excited.. he didn’t even think that was possible.

He tugged at your locks, forcing your head to be lifted. Your mascara smeared under your eyes and against the cheap pillow. Your lips were swollen, and lipstick far gone.

“Answer me, Sweetheart.” You were getting even more turned on at his request along with the dominant tone lingering in his tone.

“Always a-around you, only you, Sam.” He released the fist of hair from his hand. You looked like a wreck, and he hadn’t even got his dick inside of you, yet.

“Please- Sam, I need you.. I need y’cock- you can do what you want- I just need you to fuck me.” You pleaded desperately, he let out a dark chuckle.

“Yeah? You sure you can handle it, baby? You’re so small underneath me.. but you’re just begging for this pretty little pussy to be filled, aren’t you?”

You moaned into the pillow, nodding your head with a ‘Uh huh’ escaping your parted lips. That gave him some sort of confirmation.

When he finally entered you, you let out a cry. All the prep he did before this still didn’t get you used to the real thing.

Sam groaned, your pussy was already squeezing him and he was halfway inside of you.

His finger trailed down to your clit, rubbing slow circles around the bud. You let out a small whine, and he began to speak again.

“You gotta relax for me, Sweetie.. you don’t want anything to go to waste, right? It’s okay.. i’ve got you.” He cooed, his finger was slow yet gave just the right amount of pleasure to help you loosen up for him to finally bottom out.

Your eyes were already in the back of your head, you were drooling over the pillow. He knew this wasn’t your first time- but he also knew you hadn’t taken someone his size. Which fueled his ego just the tiniest bit.

He gave you a few minutes, letting you get used to the feeling and the stretch. He didn’t dare move until you gave him the green light.

“You… You can move, please?” God, he loved when you begged so pretty like that. Especially knowing that it was for him.

He started with slow strokes, letting you get used to his thrusts. You were already moaning into the pillow, your sounds muffled yet still clear enough for Sam to hear.

“Sam- mm, i need y-you to go f-faster..” you choked out, and he didn’t hesitate to oblige.

When he started to speed up his pace, hitting that specific spot inside of you, you were sobbing out in pleasure. He let out low groans, and heavy breaths of his own.

“Shit, Baby.. you love this? Love my cock pounding this tight pussy? You’ve been waiting for this, waiting for someone to fill this pussy, someone big and strong like me? You really are a slut.” He spat, you were making lewd sounds as if you were in a porno.

Sam was definitely fucking you like one. And you couldn’t say that you didn’t love it.

“Sammy, Sam… you’re so good- want you to fill me up, wanna feel y-your cum inside of me..” He could’ve came just at the fucked out sight of you beneath him. Practically begging for his cock buried to the hilt. You were pushing him to his limits, and his pace only got harder and faster.

Your moans were choked, his name spilling from your lips like a mantra. You were so fucking pathetic under him, you were such a goddamn whore at this point.

“Oh I’m gonna fill you up, Sweetheart.. fill you up nice and good.. mm- taking me so well, such a good girl, huh? You wanna be my little toy? Want me to use this cunt whenever I want?” His dirty talk had you reaching your own peak already. He was just so fucking big inside of you, stretching you in just the right ways.

He was getting close quickly, your little ‘Uh-huhs’ coming from your mouth had him wanting to fuck his cum so deep. He wanted it to leak out of your pussy, ruining your panties even further.

“Fuck- that’s it, squeezing me so tight, you think I can’t feel that? It’s ’cause you’re gonna cum for me, right? Gonna cum on my cock, hm?” He tone was mocking, yet full of raw pleasure.

You could feel the white, hot pleasure rushing to your core. You were about to cum, and it was the fastest time you ever did.

You let out a scream of his name, and that itself had Sam cumming inside of your cunt.

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, sweetie.. such a good girl.” He praised, carefully easing himself out of your abused hole. You let out a whimper at the emptiness.

He knew you were tired and overstimulated from the rough treatment he gave you. After he slid your panties back on and tucked himself back in his boxers, he pulled you into his embrace.

He kissed your head, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, cooing you to sleep.

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Caught

Panic came over Fiona when she awoke that morning, finding herself in a bedroom that was not her own. Slivers of sunlight streamed in between the closed curtains, the sounds of soft breathing beside her made her instantly remember last night’s events. 

“Fuck,” she said quietly. “Fuck. Colin, get up.” He stirred somewhat, mumbling incoherently. She shoved him. “Get up!” 

“The fuck do you want?” He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. 

“It’s morning, you fucking idiot,” she whispered furiously. 

He held her thigh, still looking sleepy. “Calm down.” 

“Oh, yeah. That’s what every woman wants to hear,” she snarked. 

“Everyone’s probably still asleep,” Colin said, ignoring that. “Just go out the front door.” 

“And if they’re not?” 

“I don’t fucking know,” Colin shrugged. “It’s too damn early to think right now.” 

She rolled her eyes. Sliding out of bed, she pulled her underwear and bra on, staying as quiet as she possibly could. 

“You looked better without them on,” came Colin’s smart ass remark as she looked around for her shirt. 

“One more remark like that and you’ll never see my tits again,” she said, to which he held his hands up, smirking. “Now where the hell’s my shirt?” 

“Hey, hey,” Colin waved a hand to get her attention, then pointed at his dresser. “Over there.” 

She turned, eyebrows furrowing, spotting it laying atop the dresser. “I didn’t put this here.” 

“I did,” he said, the blanket falling down to his abdomen, “when I got up to piss.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “And what time was that?” 

He shrugged. “Four or whatever. I don’t know.” 

“And you didn’t wake me?” She said, incredulous. 

“You seemed like you needed it.” A grin spread over his face. “Plus, you get kinda bitchy when you’re tired.” 

She rolled her eyes, pulling the shirt over her head. “Fuck you.” 

They had this thing going on for a while now. A thing that neither one of them brought up to properly define. It was more fucking, for sure, but they were both wary after so many shitty attempts at relationships. Best to just take it slow and see where it took them. 

“You did plenty of that last night,” Colin said smoothly. She paused, taking in the hickeys she’d left along his bare shoulder. 

“Shit,” she said with a slight laugh. “Sorry about that.” 

“You hear me complainin’?” Colin’s gaze slid over her body appreciatively. And it didn’t feel like the way those sleazy guys at work did. Come to think of it, nothing with Colin ever resembled any of the guys she’d been with before. Fuck, is she actually fallin’ for a Milkovich? “You got work today?” 

“Not ‘till later,” she replied, buttoning her jeans. “Why?” 

He didn’t respond right away, making her look up. It might just be a trick of the light, but Fiona thought he might actually be blushing. 

“It’s fucking stupid,” he said. “Never mind.” 

“No, what is it?” she said curiously. 

Colin rubbed the side of his nose, reminding her of the way she’d seen Mickey rub his eyebrow in the few instances they were in each other’s presence. Must have been a Milkovich thing. “If you were hungry,” he said, trying to come off as indifferent, “I know this cheap diner we could go to.” 

Her eyebrows flew up. “You’re askin’ me out to breakfast?” 

The question made him uncomfortable. “You said you wanted more than just fucking.” 

“Yeah,” she said, surprising herself with how much she did want it, “yeah. I did.” 

“Is that a yes, then?” Colin asked. She saw beneath his exterior that she was actually hopeful, and that just wasn’t something she was used to seeing on a Milkovich. 

She toyed with her hair, making it look a bit more presentable and less disheveled. “Look, I would if I had the money. But I’ve got the electric to think about it-” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Colin cut her off. “I got enough for both of us.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head. 

“You didn’t ask. I’m offering,” he sat up now, the blanket pooling in his lap. “And if you really want to pay me back, then you can always give me a blow job-” 

He broke out into soft laughter when she gave him an unamused look. 

“You’re a jackass.” 

“I’m kidding,” he assured her, still chuckling. “But I wasn’t kidding about paying. You can pay next time if you want.” 

“You’re already thinking about a next time, huh?” Fiona smiled, despite that nagging twinge telling her to reconsider. Sue her. She fuckin’ liked him. “Alright. Fine, you can pay. But this place better have good coffee.” 

He grinned. It was a damn good smile too. She briefly wished he did it more often. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell the kids, though,” she said thoughtfully. They’ll be awake soon enough and notice that she’s not there. 

“Nothing if you move fast enough,” Colin swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the pair of shorts closests to him. Her eyes were drawn to his bare upper half, watching the muscles in his back flex as he bent down to find a t-shirt to throw on. 

“You’re a fucking creep, Gallagher,” came Colin’s teasing voice, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

Fuck, she was busted. 

“I saw you staring,” Colin was looking at her again, smirking. “You like what you see?” 

“There’s not much to see,” she replied, going that route instead of acknowledging that his question had made her face feel unusually warm. 

“That what you’re going with, Sweetheart?” Colin stood to his full height, pushing the curtains open. 

“Don’t call me that,” Fiona rolled her eyes. She was going to start walking out but Colin had other ideas; he wrapped a strong arm around her waist, gently pulling her back. Her hair was pushed out of the way, giving him access to her neck. She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to squirm. Fuck, he knew just where to go. “Hey, if you want to have breakfast, I’ll have go home and freshen up.” 

“Hang on,” he mumbled in between kisses. 

“I swear to God if you give me a fucking hickey, Milkovich, I’ll rip your dick off.” 

“That’s kinda turning me on, not gonna lie...” 

“Oh my God,” she muttered, and he huffed out a laugh. She lightly shoved him away. “I’m gettin’ out of here before your brothers or Mandy wake up.” 

“They won’t be up this early, trust me.” 

The two of them crept out of Colin's room. The rest of the house was silent, much to Fiona’s relief. She didn’t need anyone seeing them. The last thing she wanted to do was explain what all this was between them. 

“I still can’t believe we fucked while they were home,” she mumbled. 

“They probably just think you’re some whore I brought home,” he said with a shrug, to which she scoffed. 

“Thanks.” 

“Hey, I didn’t call you the whore,” Colin said, keeping his voice down. She snorted. “Okay, looks like they’re all sleeping. Just head out and we’ll meet back up in twenty.” 

Fiona saw something in her peripheral that made her freeze. She whirled around, figuring it to be one of Colin’s brothers, only to gawk. 

“Ian?” 

Her brother froze too, staring at them with wide eyes. “Fiona?” He squeaked out, voice noticeably a higher pitch. 

She couldn’t help but notice his rumpled clothing and the messy hair. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?” 

Ian looked a little panicked. “What are you doing here?” He yelped. 

“Did you come from Mandy's room?” Colin demanded, butting into the conversation, his protective instincts coming out. 

“N-no!” 

“I swear to God if you were fucking my baby sister-” Colin hissed. 

“I wasn’t!” 

“Okay, okay,” Fiona put a hand on his chest to calm him. Ian gawked at this momentarily, but was a little more focused on not getting murdered.“Don’t fucking touch him.” 

“I wasn’t with Mandy,” Ian said hurriedly. “I swear I wasn’t!” 

“Then why the fuck are you here?” 

“Colin,” Fiona snapped. “Calm the fuck down. Jesus.” 

“Fi-” Colin started with a sigh. 

“If you touch him, Colin, I swear to God-” 

“Alright, alright! I won’t touch him. He still owes me an explanation.” 

“And you’ll get it,” Fiona said, looking at Ian expectantly. 

“Um, well-” Ian said weakly. 

“Goddamn it, Gallagher, what’s all the noise about? Did you wake my brother up?” A new voice complained, and out came Mickey from his room, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw all of them standing there. “Fuck...” 

Ian shut his eyes, one hand covering his face. 

It didn’t take Colin long to connect the dots. “Holy shit,” he said in disbelief. 

Fiona was just as shocked. This was not what she expected to happen this morning. Although, she couldn’t help but notice the way Mickey stiffened up when his eyes landed on his brother. Not a surprise, given the Milkovich’s asshole of a father. 

“You’re a fag, Mick?” Colin said, completely caught off guard. “Since when?” 

She whacked him hard for that one. “Hey,” she said sharply. 

Colin gave her a look in return. “What? I don’t give a shit. I’m just askin’.” 

Ian tried to do damage control, which she suspected was to save face for Mickey, and blurted out, “I-I was just returning something to Mickey. I, uh, borrowed it from him and I thought I should bring it back before he punches me or something.” 

Colin snorted. Mickey looked like he was seconds away from actually punching him right then and there. 

“Do you think we’re fucking stupid?” The second oldest Milkovich said to no one in particular. Then, he asked staright up: “Gallagher, are you fucking my brother?” 

“No. I mean yes but-” Ian faltered, trying to come up with the right words. He looked at Mickey, and their silent communication lasted for several moments. Taking a deep breath, he finally said, “Me and Mickey aren’t just fucking. He’s my boyfriend.” 

Fiona felt like her mind was blown. Jesus. “How long has this been going on?” 

“A couple of months,” Mickey answered cautiously. He was still glancing at Colin. 

“Seriously?” Fiona didn’t know how she’d missed this. Wouldn’t she have known if Ian was sneaking off? 

“Hold the fuck on then,” Colin said suddenly, “I thought you and Mandy were dating? That’s what she told us.” 

“It’s fake,” Ian said quickly. “She offered to pretend to be my girlfriend at school. I keep the creepy guys away and no one suspects I’m gay.” 

Colin rubbed his face tiredly. “Jesus. It’s too fucking early for all of this.” 

Fiona definitely agreed. 

There was silence for a couple of seconds. Ian’s eyes darted from her to Colin. “Are you guys together too?” 

Mickey looked interested in hearing the answer as well. 

“We’re-” Fiona didn’t know how to explain it. What were they? They weren’t just fuck buddies. They were both interested in taking this further, but at the moment? She didn’t know what they were. 

“Yeah,” Colin took the reins and said. He placed his hand on her lower back. Fiona unconsciously leaned into his touch. 

“I stayed here last night,” she admitted. 

“That’s probably why we heard all the thuds,” Mickey said to Ian, casually. Fiona was mortified. Ian just grimaced. 

“Jesus, Mick. Don’t say things like that.” 

“Did I offend your delicate sensibilities, Gallagher?”

Ian, seemingly forgetting who he was in front of, just grinned. “Didn’t think I was so delicate last night.” 

“Okay, no,” Fiona said loudly. “You’re not going to do that in front of me. You two can fuck or be boyfriends and shit all you want, but I don’t need to know anything about my brother’s sex life.” 

Ian flushed, ducking his head. 

“Me either,” Colin added. 

“Sorry,” Ian offered an apology, and she rolled her eyes fondly. 

Her brother seemed alright, if just a bit surprised that they were both dating Milkovich’s. But Fiona had been studying Mickey for a couple of minutes now and he seemed close to fleeing or shitting his pants. It reminded her a little of when Ian came out; he’d been nervous too. She could only imagine how he must be feeling right now. 

But even in the midst of this, she saw Mickey’s eyes glancing her brother’s way, his face softening and for a moment, he wasn’t one of South Side’s notorious thugs, but just a kid that was clearly in love. 

“We should probably head out,” Fiona said, referencing to herself and Ian. “Come on.” 

Colin spoke up, “Are we still on?” 

She turned, a smile lighting up her face. “We’re still on.” 

“On for what?” Ian said curiously. 

“More fucking, probably,” Mickey shrugged. 

“Fuck off,” Colin swatted him upside the head. “It ain’t like that, dickhead. We’re going out.” 

“Your brother’s secretly a gentleman,” Fiona told Mickey, who scoffed. 

“Since fucking when?” 

“Keep talkin’, fuck head. You did plenty of shit as a kid that I’ll gladly tell Gallagher,” Colin threatened. Mickey, much to her amusement, blanched a little. 

“Technically we’re both Gallaghers,” Ian pointed out. 

“You know damn well what I meant, Red.” 

“Come on,” Fiona smirked, a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Let’s get back before the others wake up. I don’t need Carl blowing up the house.” 

Ian nodded, his gaze settling on Mickey. “Bye Mickey,” he said shyly. “You should stop by Kash and Grab later. You know, if you want to.” 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” Mickey said like he didn’t care. 

Colin snorted. “Some relationship you’ve got there.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Fiona made a bold move of taking Colin by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “You can go on,” she told Ian, who didn’t need to be told twice, so now it was only three of them. “Bye Mickey,” she called. 

Mickey grunted, and went back to his room, slamming the door shut. 

“Make sure you talk to him,” Fiona said, realizing that she was still holding onto his hand. 

“About what?” Colin said, slightly confused. 

“About him being gay,” Fiona said carefully. 

“Why the fuck do we have to talk about it? I don’t care where he sticks his dick.” 

“That’s not the point,” Fiona sighed. “We both know how Terry is. He needs to know you aren’t going to kick his ass over it.” 

Colin met her eyes. He nodded, understanding now. “Okay. I’ll talk to him.” 

“Make sure he’s okay,” she added. “And don’t pressure him to tell Iggy or Mandy. It’s his choice.” 

“I know that,” he said, looking serious. “I’d never do that to him.” 

“Good,” Fiona glanced down at their still conjoined hands, and let go. “See you in twenty?” 

“See ya, Gallagher.” 

Fiona walked back home with a grin on her face. Unlike the other guys in her past, she had a good feeling about Colin Milkovich. 

[natewriteslol]

Creepy Crawlers

Summary: You and your college roommates decided to play a fun game of ouiji board. But what do you do when the devil wishes to make a deal for freedom? Will you be able to reach ends meet and be free from this malignant spirit, or will you be forced to join him amongst the ranks in hell?

Demon!Cater x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: talk of demons, pain, horror themes

It was a hazy Friday afternoon and you were head over heels excited to head to your apartment after a long day of work. Your roommate, Vil had just finished his classes at his university and you had gotten off of work from the coffee shop. You were both waiting for Kalim to head home from his mother’s house. She always got lonely when her son was gone for too long, so he had been gone for about 3 days, spending quality time with his mother. 

Mesmerized by your phone, you finally snapped out of the trance once you heard the familiar knocking pattern from Kalim, you and Vil welcomed him back home as he energetically started catching you guys up on what he was up too back in his home country. You both had aided in assisting him with all of the baked goods and gifts that he was given by his family. But once he got to unpacking different trinkets his mother gave to him, Kalim had brought out some sort of board? 

You and Vil had glanced at one another before breaking the ice.

“Uh...Kalim, what is that?” your blonde roommate inquired, pointing at the box. It was a deep wine red, with black, bold letters in a slightly curled font.

‘Ouija, Mystifying Oracle: Look into the Unknown for your Answers or Desires.’

You grew anxious, you didn’t know too much about ouija boards, but you sure knew enough to not mess around with them. 

“C’mon guys, why not just try it out? You’re telling me when you were kids you didn’t play around with stuff like this?” Kalim asked, excitedly taking the board out of the box onto your apartment floor. He found the directions, attempting to read the letters that were enscribed in ink on the paper, but they were far too faded to even be legible.

“You have completely different ideas of fun from Y/N and I,” Vil retorted, looking completely turned off from even glancing at the board. Yet as Kalim messed with the board, it caught more of his attention, keeping an eye on the object and not saying a word. Which in the blink of an eye, Vil had negated the dangers of the board by continuing on with, “But... I’m no chicken, I’ll play. What about you, Y/N?”

You felt immense pressure as you couldn’t fumble this. Your two roommates who you're on the brink of reaching friend status want to play a game, you can’t just leave them in the dust and be the one odd one out from a possible bonding experience.

You gave a quick nod and that was all they needed to proceed with the game.

They laid out the ouija board flat on the ground, rubbing off the dust from the red board. It was no cheap looking ouija board you get from Toys R. Us, you observed that from the black letters engraved on the red board with all the letters of the alphabet. Of course the wooden planchet followed the theme as well, a dark red with a petite glass bulb in the middle. 

"I can’t find this thing anywhere on the web” Vil inquired as he scrolled on his phone, scratching his head looking for directions online. 

“Yeah, but that’s what makes this one more unique!” Kalim cheered, excited to start playing, his palms on each side of the board as he talked to the princely blonde in front of him.

It was strange, they almost seem entranced by this game, it wasn't complete obsession but it was certaintly out of the ordinary for both of them. Kalim always was afraid of horror, wanting you to turn off movies when he was in your company and Vil would never make a decision this "stupid". The look in their eyes was just odd, they couldn't rip their eyes away from this thing...

And soon enough, neither would you as soon as your eyes laid on this board you were transfixed on playing.

You laid your fingers on the board, unfortunately becoming the leader for this session after drawing straws with your two roommates. 

“Go on, ask some questions,” Kalim urged with a smile, adjusting his fingers on the board.

“Uhm, what’s your name?” You questioned, awaiting for the chip to start sliding. The letters started moving, making all three of you freak out, you couldn’t tell if they were playing some type of trick on you but you felt extremely afraid regardless. 

C.

D.

“CD?” you asked, confused on what type of name that would be. 

“Maybe, it’s the initials? ,” Vil suggested, staring at the board, trying to gauge some form of sense from it. 

“Whatever, just keep asking questions,” Kalim said, trying to get some more fun energy flowing, which had always been something he excelled at. 

“Okay, let’s ask something only we would know. What is Kalim��s favorite color?”

G.

R.

A.

Y.

“Listen, if you guys want to play a bit on me that’s cool, but I kinda wanted to see if it would work by itself,” Kalim pouted, looking disappointed in you both. 

“Kalim, I thought your favorite color was light blue?” Vil asked quirking up an eyebrow, as they had this conversation only two weeks ago. 

“Yeah but…I changed my mind only a couple of days ago…” Kalim answered, he had never told anyone about his change in opinion. 

“Okay, I guess than put something down only you would know, not anyone else '' Vil suggested, and both of you complied. 

“What is the color of the bag under my bed?”

“Which customer always orders the frappe, carmel drizzle on the side, cinnamon sprinkle on top, with an espresso pump?”

“What did my art teacher assign for homework last night?”

Black striped.

Mrs. Han.

Essay. Da Vinci. 

“No fucking way, are you sure you guys aren’t playing a prank on me? Y/N, I put that bag under my bed two days ago. Did you go snooping?” 

“Vil, I’ve been too tired from work to go and look at what's under your bed. I haven’t set a foot in there since last week when I told you to vacuum,” you answered, completely honest with your hands by your head in defense, almost offended at such accusations.

“I’m the only one besides you who has a good memory, but there’s no way I could remember all that shit. I-I only remember events, not orders,” Kalim said, his voice wavering.

“You weren’t even home to talk about what homework you had assigned last night," Vil looked, a tone of disbelief and shock lining his voice.

It all seemed too real, so you decided to ask something you had never told anyone except for your family. The reason why you even moved from your old complex. 

“Mrs. Jameson...she died, what was her room number?”

1.

2.

3.

All of a sudden, the vintage alarm clock that sat on the quaint stand near your couch struck 12:30am. So did the grandfather clock Kalim thrifted ages ago, both of which you didn’t even know could make noise. 

You both rushed to turn it off so you wouldn’t disrupt anyone in the complex since it was already close to 1 am, the rancorous groan echoed through your apartment, completely snapping you two out of your trance.

You finally pulled the lever on the side that silenced elderly clock. But your peace did not last for long, you soon heard a heavy crash. Sounding as though all of your windows had broken and all the glasses in your cabinets had descended on your kitchen floor. All three of you picked yourselves off of the floor rushing to the kitchen, only to see absolutely nothing. 

You had all attempted to locate a source of the noise, this whole event made you so irritated and frightened that you couldn't pin point a source as to who or what was causing this torment. It couldn't be that this phantom was real, that shit only happens in movies after all.

Except as you searched throughout the room, your eyes noticed something on the ground. The paper was worn out parchment with vermillion ink reading the numbers 123. 

Freaked out from this "coincidence", you quickly dropped it on the floor, the paper then slowly started to singe, becoming only a small particles of black on the ground right before all of you. 

You didn't stick around for long and neither did the two boys, as you all knew you had to get out of this house for if you had stayed who knows what would happen to the three of you.

Which lead you to the nearest burger joint to discuss plans, and possibly how to fix this at 2am. Kalim took responsibility for paying for a baptism from a priest, while Vil pointed out the mistakes your group had made over burgers, nuggets and fries even though he too had participated.

Once the baptism had commenced a couple of days later, Kalim and Vil felt as though the weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. The weird happenings like open cabinets, broken dishes, your computer turning on by itself, the lights flickering on and off had completely stopped.

There was no more evil in your home, yet why were you still haunted? 

It wasn’t complete anxiety, you were never looking over your shoulder to see what was going on, but something just felt off. You were having strange dreams of the same night of playing the ouiji board, except you were all alone. However you just toughed it out, and blamed it on nerves. 

Three months later.

Vil’s courses at his university had gotten a lot more rigorous, he was spending more time at the library to the point it became a second home. While Kalim had been swaddled with work at the art emporium his parent's owned, needing to adopt some responsibility for one of the many family businesses they owned. So for the time being, you were left alone for an extensive amount of time, yet it seemed as if someone were always there, no matter what. 

Just watching...you.

But it was all just nerves, right?

Maybe some creep from an apartment building over was watching you?

But you had absolutely no time to be worrying over things that were all in your head, as you were in a financial pickle to say the least, You were working a shift at the coffee shop, “The Barista’s” . It was an incredibly packed and fast day and you were working front and center, and like always you were understaffed. The order was an online order, which requested a coffee, totally black which was a little out of the regular since but there was no time to pass judgement and it had made your life easier. Who were you to complain?

Once you finished you looked over at the second coworker on your shift and asked her for the order name to put on the cup to call out into the crowd. 

“Oh, um it’s CD? That’s it.”

Your eyes shot open wide, looking at the screen of placed online orders, your eyes scrolling down to the latest one.

Damien- 12:30pm

Amy- 12: 45 pm

Jamie- 1:00pm

Maria- 1:12pm

CD- 1:23pm 

No fucking way. This had to be some sick prank maybe from the guys. You never talked to anyone but them about this, not wanting to spread word or make you look crazy and alongside be made fun of for your ignorant mistake of playing that game period. It seemed as though this force had become upset that you wouldn’t acknowledge their existence enough, becoming insistent and infringing on your life. Afterall, how dare you blame this damage on nerves? 

A man came inside, you felt a shiver down your spine, he was dressed in all black, a button up with black pants and boots to match, adorning black circle sunglasses. It felt like he was concealing something, the way he moved seemed ominous and calculated. 

He smirked once he caught your gaze, you both knew that you were afraid, afraid to call out the two letters on that damn cup.

“Order for…C.D?” 

The man rose up from his seat, ready to grab his coffee that you left on the counter to avoid contact with him. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said in a honeyed voice, and right as you instinctively turned around.

There was no trace of him, he had vanished into thin air. 

 Not one customer had called you by name today, not even the sweet old ladies that make sure to call you by it when placing their orders. Whilst getting ready today you had been neglectful of the lack of weight on your chest, quickly realizing why.

You had forgotten to wear your nametag today. 

So how did that complete stranger know your name?

Timeskip

You had gotten off of work at 6:30pm, and your roommates hadn't gotten home yet and probably wouldn't for at least two hours. As you slipped your key into the hole and unlocked your door, you felt an icy breeze hit your face. It was near summer, yet this room managed to be frozen over in temperature. You had turned on the lights, the yellowed lighting bringing you slight ease.

Yet it felt as though there was a presence in the room with you, it was unnerving and unbearable. It had been this way for months, yet it showed no sign of stopping and you grew tired of this never ending feeling. It was isolating that you were the only person within your apartment to feel this way, with Kalim and Vil only giving you a "no" to asking them if they feel anxious. You couldn't stand driving yourself insane so, against all of your best judgement you decided to face your feelings head on. 

“Listen, I know I’m not alone in this house. Show yourself to me, now,” you commanded, yet your voice seemed to betray you. Wavering in tone and assertiveness, exposing your true feelings of being afraid and overwhelmed. The ceiling above you started to creek and moan, almost testing the waters of your nerves.

“I know it’s you…C.D.” 

The ground began to rumble and quiver, the lights once bringing a reassuring light shook alongside it. You grew completely terrified, falling to the floor, catching yourself with your own hands as lightbulbs crackled and hissed as they hit the wooden floors, leaving you in complete darkness.  

The only safe haven that allowed you to see in this abyss of your apartment is right where you were standing. A gray light above your head, only providing a circle of illumination where you stood.  

“You are quite brave, I'll give you that, human.” 

A pure black hand with nails as sharp and long as knives, gripped your wrist from the pool of darkness surrounding you. Screaming, you shook and wriggled your arm fiercely allowing the grip of the hand off of you. Your resistance had made the demon cackle. 

“W-who are you?” you exasperated, clutching onto your wrist wrung with red marks from the struggle. 

“You already know my name, you summoned me after all,” the darkness retorted.

“What...What do you want?!” you asked, trying your best to appear tough, despite shaking from fear.

“Ah, so many questions... but I’m willing to answer. It’s something that all demons from hell crave-,” the demon said, letting the vintage radio Kalim had bought two weeks ago finish. 

“A soul,” the old timey voice sang from the fuzzy speaker making the demon giggle. 

“Isn’t it funny how we can do that? I think it’s a great party trick” the archfiend jested, “hoping” that you would agree. As the creature of darkness joked, the voice began to inch closer and closer. There was no way to run from whoever this thing was.

“Now, mortal I will give you two decisions. One; you may surrender your soul to me your soul. Or you must subject yourself to a long lasting search and you get me my memories,” the shadowed room stated. 

“What happens if I get you your memories?” you asked, most definitely wanting to keep your soul. 

“Well, I am proclaimed innocent, no longer needing to serve the underworld and I am free. You see, my family was cursed by an ancient witch, and every single son within the family is doomed to spend their days in hell. Once you get to hell, you have all of your memory wiped and it is manifested into actual items on Earth,” this spirit C.D explained to you from the shadows. “If you manage to get all seven of these items, we’ll both be free. Fail, I get your soul, I stay in hell.” 

Weighing your options, you realized that they both ended with you losing. But even if you had the slightest chance of winning, you’re going to take it. 

“I...will help you find your memories,” you said hesitantly, making him laugh. 

You could hear the smirk extend on his lips, he was highly entertained with your act of resistance. It was surprising and in a sadistic way, a great form of amusement for him. "Hm...very well then, mortal. Extend your hand, we need to shake on it for it to become an actual done deal,” C.D explained, making his elongated, obsidian stained hand into your circle.

You took his hand into yours, shaking it only for a couple of seconds only for you to feel a painful burn on your wrist where his fingers lay. You were tattooed with the numbers “123” on your wrist with a shade darker of your skintone. 

“What did you do to me?!” you exclaimed, holding your wrist once more, an electrifying pain seeping throughout your arm. 

“You need my vision in order to see the artifacts. And don’t worry too much, only you can see the marking and can make others see it if you wish. It’ll go away once our deal is done,” the demon explained, thinking that it was quite obvious.

“Oh, and it’s also a part of the deal that I have to live in this home so-”

“No fucking way you’re staying here in my house,” you growled angrily, completely exasperated from this ordeal of horror.

“Woah, woah, woah I’m not the one whose soul is on the line here. I don’t need to eat or drink anything so I rarely do it. And again same rules apply, if you want to let Thing One and Thing Two see me then you can. If you want to keep this a secret, then again, you can,” CD snapped back.

“But, why C.D and why this damn number?” you asked, staring down at your wrist.

 There was a silence in the room before C.D answered, “It was my lucky number... supposed to be angel number when I get to heaven. Whenever you see it, just know that I’m around somewhere. And C.D is a nickname, the only thing the devil left me was my name from when I was a human, Cater. Cater Diamond.” 

There was a snap, light had entered your apartment completely. The once popped lightbulbs were restored back to normal, alongside with other disturbed items like picture frames and furniture. There was no sign of the body that belonged to the voice that was speaking to you.

Only once you turned around to see him in his human form sitting on the small black sofa in the corner. Spooked by his presence as you let out a yelp, it made him let out a chuckle. 

“Now, we have a deal, don’t we?” He asked for the final time, making you nod your head. 

The demon lowered his blacked out sunglasses, revealing his amber-colored eyes.

“Excellent. It was good doing business with you, Y/N.” 

~~~

Coming soon- Chapter Two: A New Roommate

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist! This was fun to write and I hope I can create more content for you guys :D<3

[whumpsoda]

Taking - Nevan & Darius

WOHEO Masterlist I finally wrote this… better now than never, I guess! I can’t wait to get more into early captivity stuff :D

cw: hypnosis/mind control, vampire whumper, kidnapping

This actually takes place a bit over six months after Malak was taken!

———————————————————————

“Yeah, Gen, I’ve got it, s’all good.” The sliver of a phone was pressed between Nevan’s shoulder and cheek, hands occupied with a bulky load of filled to the brim bags. He chuckled as he spoke, his voice loud and casual. “I’m already on my way back. I’m only like ten minutes away.”

He stepped in a lazy path down the cracked sidewalk, illuminated only by sporadically placed street lamps. The cumbersome bags bumped irritatingly to his legs with each step, crinkling into the silent night air. “I got Amara some toys too! They were pretty cheap, but really cute.”

A voice, muffled and glitched, spoke from the other end of the connection. “Aw, that’s sweet. Thanks, babe.” Genevieve said, from back at their apartment.

“I grabbed her a new bib, also. The one she’s got now is pretty gross.” He chatted, vision absentmindedly trailing over each next building he passed. Not many people could be seen inside, most already having returned home after dark. “How’s she doing?”

“Stop.” 

Nevan’s avid steps quickly became weighted, his legs gradually braking to a halt. Genevieve continued her energetic rambling, his mouth falling slack and any words dying right in his throat. 

“Still.” 

His muscles tensed, holding rigidly in their position. No matter the pouding in his mind, calling him to make a move, Nevan was simply and utterly unable to connect his brain to his limbs.

“…Nevan? Are you there?”

There was someone to his side, obscured by the convenient shadows of the dark and his unwavering sight. The most Nevan could manage was to sputter out a half baked, confused stutter. “He- hey-”

“Nevan?”

“It’s in your best interest not to fight.” They whispered, directly into his ear. Nevan’s breath hitched. “Hush now.” The stranger soothed, pressing a gentle hand to Nevan’s chest. “Just close your little lips and quiet your throat. Stay nice and still, completely quiet.”

“Nevan? Hey, are you there? Is this thing working?”

Nevan watched, all he really could do while paralyzed by fear and the hold of the man’s words on his mind, as Darius stepped into his line of vision. Dressed in drab, dignified clothing, the attacker studied him with an intense gaze.

“God, this stupid phone. Nevan?” She sighed. “If you can hear me, I’ll see you when you get home. Love you.”

With each careful inch forward, boots clacking against the floor, Nevan’s stomach caved further with terrified sickness, thoughts running wild yet too fast to catch. He shivered as Darius’ icy cold fingers clutched his chin, beginning to gingerly shift his head every which way, studying Nevan’s features.

Nevan swallowed. Genevieve hung up.

“Great bone structure. Clear skin, beautiful eyes.” He muttered, speaking more so to himself than Nevan. As he did so, the phone was slipped away from Nevan’s ear, an action he barely noticed, and Darius quickly flung the cell to the floor. The crack of the screen rang just feet away as it hit the concrete.

Nevan twitched at the sound, but didn’t dare take his eyes off the man inches away. His vision was fixed on Darius’ mouth as he spoke.

Sharp, jutting fangs stuck out from the rest of Darius’ glimmering white teeth, large enough to rip out his throat with a single bite.

A vampire.

Nevan wasn’t given the chance to dwell on the realization before a firm hand gripped a ball of his hair, yanking back his head and forcing a yelp to scratch from his throat. “Hm.” The vampire hummed, studying the locks and running fingers through them. “Dreadful cut, terribly uneven. Nicely soft and shiny, though. We’ll have to fix that up.” He noted. 

“I do think you’ll serve an adequate pick. Wonderful looks, an easily overcome mind.” Nevan tried to make sense of the vampire’s eery observations. As the gears of his terrified brain turned, Darius slipped into the nape of his neck, a swift action that not only caught him by surprise but fluttered in his heart.

“Above average blood, as well.” Darius whispered, smelling the other man’s skin and letting his breath beat upon the area. “You’ll provide a lovely meal. A sweet, docile, obedient little meal.”

Meal? Nevan didn’t want to be the snack of a bloodthirsty creature. A soothing, angelic voiced creature, who’s sensual purrs licked his mind. Of course he wouldn’t… want that.

Though, he couldn’t help the way his eyes turned glassy and his eyelashes fluttered from the idea. “A delightful idea, I know. Being nice and docile for a hungry vampire.” His voice was snaking its pleasurable way around Nevan’s brain, echoing beautifully into each crack and crevice. 

It was already apparent Nevan was beginning to crack. “Drop the bags. You won’t be needing those.” Darius commanded, and after a moment the human’s grip fully released. His purchases landed with a thud to the concrete, spilling right out of the plastic. “Good boy.”

As much as Nevan should’ve lingered on the fact he’d just followed the man’s instructions with not a beat of opposition, he paid far more attention to what the man had called him. 

The vampire had spoken to him like one would a dog. That… wasn’t right. But, the way he said it, singing it in his charming, echoing voice, it sounded so good. So right. He would gladly accept such praise if the stranger would continue in such a wonderful sound as that.

“Hm. Tell me your name.”

“N- Nevan.” It rolled right off the tongue, like he didn’t even need a second to think about what he was doing. Like he didn’t even have the chance to stop himself from providing the vampire with what he asked. Nothing felt off about such a thing though, actually pleasant to follow Darius’ demands.

“Isn’t that just convenient. A pretty name for a pretty thrall. I don’t even have to rename you.” Darius stated, pleased, a bit of a grin tugging at his lips. “Well, Nevan, as of tonight you’ll be coming home with me.”

Home.

Home. How could he have forgotten? “But… I need, uh, need… I’m going… home… I think…” he thought. Just moments ago Nevan was so sure of his goal, yet now he was doubting himself, the idea muddling inside his brain. He was going home, wasn’t he?

“Yes, that’s right. I’ll be taking you home. To my home. That sounds nice, don’t you agree?” The vampire stated, matter of fact. He appeared so confident in his words, like he knew just what he was talking about. Nevan couldn’t help but be swayed by them.

Home. That sounded right. “Sure… mister…” Nevan mumbled, his voice drawing into a thick slur with each next word. The corners of his lips twitched into the ghost of a growing smile. This kind stranger was going to bring him home! What a wonderful prospect, fluttering in his heart as he continued to think it over.

“That would be yes Master.” Darius corrected, purring tenderly into his ear.

Master? Nevan’s face went wide, shaking partly out of the trance. “N-no!” He cried, recoiling in shock.

“Shhh. Don’t go freaking out on me, relax. Let my words sink in.” One of Darius’ hands curled over Nevan’s chest, sweetly stroking in circular motions over his heart. “Calm and relaxed, again. Good and submissive you are, ignoring those ridiculous calls of defiance.”

The rigid grip he held on Nevan’s jaw moved his head into a slow nod, and as he continued to digest Darius’ words he couldn’t seem to tell if the vampire was moving it, or him. “Mmm… yes… Master…” Any fear still pent up  fizzled right out as he finally agreed, his body warming as he relented. 

“One more time for me. Yes, Master.” 

Nevan wasted not a second to obediently repeat. “Yes… Master…” his tongue was so drowsily heavy, weighing down his slack falling jaw and slurring his speech.

“Good, good.” More praise! It was strange how pleasant such simple words could feel, but so marvelous they were. The vampire finally stepped back, content that at least then Nevan had no qualms to fight back.

“Here,” the human followed with sleepy eyes, as the vampire plunged his swift hand into his pocket. “Put this on.” 

Nevan eyed the cream colored collar that dangled from his palm, held out expectantly for him to take. His vision carefully trailed down the thin strap of light leather, and the metal clasps that glittered in the light of a nearby streetlamp, taking on the image of a gift from a god. 

At that very moment, the only thing that mattered to him was the collar. The magnificent, calling collar. Anything and everything surrounding it was exempt from his vision, eyes purely focused on the magical seeming item.

Nevan barely processed the steady, mechanical lift of his arms drifting toward the object, obediently following the vampire’s orders. The coarse piece was gently lifted to his throat, and wrapped around his bobbing adams apple by his own fingers. 

His body felt distant and fuzzily disconnected from his clouded mind as he did the clasp, creating a tight, warm ring around his tender neck. Nevan could sense the vampire’s piercing eyes following his motions, but could sense his satisfaction.

“I’m certainly lucky I found you at that dreaded skate park.” Darius’ words were thick with disdain, his expression twisting with disgust. Sorry guilt churned through Nevan’s belly. “It’s rare for me to find an acceptable thrall so quickly, but I’m sure you will do.” His knuckles softly brushed Nevan’s jaw, sending the human’s mind reeling once again.

“Skate… skate… park? Do… do I know you…?”

“You surely don’t remember it, but we’ve met. You mustn't need to worry your pretty little head about that, though. Nothing of your concern, really.” Of course, the man was right. Nevan had no reason to question him, he’d much rather just listen to fuzzy words slip from his magnificent lips, watching the buzz of his throat.

“There’s no need for you to speak, either.” He instructed, hushing Nevan by pressing a finger to his lips. Nevan couldn’t help but giggle as the contact flooded a slight bliss through his brain, a reaction Darius evidently found repulsive as he gave a look of disapproval.

The human blinked hard as sharp snaps of a delicate hand went off in his face, catching his sleepy attention. “Come along now. We’d best be heading home.” 

Nevan eagerly began to follow, although with the daze of his head he seemed to wander, Darius’ graceful path the only indication of where to step. Soon he’d even forgotten where they were headed.

He didn’t mind. Really, he didn’t have the mind to think about it. The man with the wonderful voice could tell him all he needed to know, and he would be satisfied.

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[bulbabutt]

ok. elephant in the room or shit i thought about a while ago but didnt post, my going theory on the rise cancellation which idk if its a theory more-so as reading the room and putting the pieces together.

it seems like playmates fault to me on account of the toys being shit and then cancelled outright. like waves of toys ready to go in 2019, none saw the light of day.

obvs a lot of them were shit, not the point. the point being theres up to 6 waves of toys on the table at 2019 toy fair, only 1 and 2 were made. compare to the last toyfair showing the mutant mayhem toys.

playmates made both of these era of toys. do you see how much more effort went into one than the other. you can say movies are more popular blah blah blah. but playmates has made ALL tmnt toys since they ever existed, and comparing the rise toys to even the previous shows toys it seems obvious where they put the money.

anyway my theory here is playmates got told (or given or offered or whatever) mutant mayhem. they immediately went. oh. yeah this will make us money. lets start prepping moulds for this now, lets get ready to sell a shit ton of different stuff. and they just left all those rise things on the cutting room floor. they didnt tell anyone on the team they were gonna do that. they didnt say "yeah it doesnt matter what you do cuz we have this NEW thing coming" they just abandoned it. they pretended theyd give it a chance to come back if their movie went well just to appease them and us, cuz they saw more money elsewhere.

the dumb shit about that is like imagine saying that about like. batman or the avengers or something. yeah we wont make this cartoon anymore cuz we have a theatrical movie coming in 3 years. like. you can have more than one iteration YOU DID IT WITH 12.

truly this is nothing against mutant mayhem by all accounts it looks amazing, my point here is that im sick of playmates fucking over each tv show with their stupid hunks of plastic. it has in fact happened each time, rise was just faster

87 was good, then there were the 90s movies that got popular enough that the show needed to be closer in style to.

03 was good, then it got dark, told to be more fun (cuz kids like ben 10 now) so they made fast forward, which was also good but in its own way, but then tmnt 2007 came out and playmates literally said "nope nope, we want to save on moulds so change your show to look like this movie" then 07 didnt go well cuz warner bros didnt fucking market it (what i heard from a podcast w nolan north was that they were super preoccupied marketing the shit out of 300 at the time. which. ok very weird choice for kids toys)

then we have 2012 after nick buys the franchise. and 12 has the weird tonal dissonance of dark stuff and kid stuff, with the most "designed to be toys" characters in it, clearly messing w things in the show itself while it was going.

then bayverse comes out along side it and once its over we get rise, where the designs clearly take inspiration from that movie (donnie and raph specifically)

then mutant mayhem is announced and rise just. fades out of existence. planned seasons cut and cancelled. planned toys disappear.

anyway. none of those shows are bad. none of the movies that come out along side them are bad. its just the dumbassery of like. not being allowed more than one iteration at a time, and its nOT on account of popularity or brand synchronizing like youd think, its literally to not have to make as many DIFFERENT SHAPED hunks of plastic! its fucking stupid. rise's downfall seems to be POOR FUCKING PLANNING on playmates part for THEIR shitty toys and then also being cheap/unwilling to have TWO DIFFERENT KINDS OF TOYS AT ONCE (proof being the 03/07 thing)

anyway. thats my theory or whatever that fills me with rage. i hate playmates and i think its insane that the downfall of rise literally comes down to two stupid companies and their desire to sell garbage to children.

[wordsonamission]

Slimav and itch 👀

Hey hey! Sorry for the delay, the writing muse was not having it for the past couple of days. My writing gets a bit away from the ask a bit, but I hope you enjoy this anyway!

This prompt comes from the comfortable intimacy tag. Prompt: (itch) sender assists receiver with an itch they can't reach.

PS - I could be tempted to continue this story if anyone is interested. Slimav is always a fun time . . .

Maverick twisted in his chair, face creased with concentration as his hands scrabbled around trying to reach a spot on his back.

Slider raised a condescending brow. “What’s got your panties in a bunch, shortstack?”

“Goddamn mosquitos,” Maverick fumed back sharply. “Goose and I were on the court after sunset last night and the stupid things were everywhere.”

“Hmm.” Slider watched as the furious contorting continued. “And I assume you weren’t wearing your shirt during the game?”

“Of course not! Gotta keep this California tan somehow.”

 “You look like a dog with fleas.”

Maverick’s expression went nuclear. “You’re so hilarious, Sli.” His face was an alarming shade of puce as he left the chair with a huff.

Maverick headed for the partial wall near the small kitchen as Slider laughed. He turned around and wedged his back against the sharp corner, rubbing against it like a bear on a tree.

“Come on, that’s just pathetic,” Slider sighed. He crossed the room in four long strides and grabbed Maverick’s arm.

“What the hell, that was working!” Maverick groused.

Slider rolled his eyes as he spun Maverick around and pulled up the back of his shirt. The tanned skin beneath was riddled with small red marks. He whistled through his teeth.

“Yeah, that does look rough.”

Maverick started to respond, heat coloring his tone, but Slider didn’t wait for a reply before running his big, hot hands up Maverick’s spine. He dug in with his fingernails, scratching firmly. Maverick hissed and shuddered, jumping as broad fingers dug in to his waist.

“That hurts! And Goose said not to scratch, it’ll just make the spots worse.”

“Trust Mother Goose to have an opinion but not offer to help,” Slider snorted. “But that does make sense. You’ll just get redder if I keep this up.”

“But it’s still itchy!”

Slider’s hands didn’t leave Maverick’s skin. He lingered, pressing against the curves of his spine and alone the muscles of his shoulders. The mosquito bites were still irritating, but the long, sweeping touches both soothed and inflamed Maverick in another way.

“C’mon, I have another idea,” Slider said after a pause. “Lose the shirt and get in the kitchen.”

“You having ideas is dangerous.”

“Now who’s full of jokes?” Slider grabbed a clean dish towel and opened the freezer, rummaging around and cracking several ice cubes out of the tray.

Maverick hesitated. He toyed with the hem of his shirt and considered his options. On the one hand, he could see that icing the bites could reduce the swelling and the itch. On the other hand, he didn’t really trust himself to be half naked in the same room as Slider. And that’s before he considers what it’ll be like for Slider to touch him more.

 But Slider gestured impatiently with his handful of ice, so Maverick pulled the shirt over his head and faced away, his gaze level to the cheap laminate countertop. He jumped at the first touch of cold.

“Settle down,” Slider grumbled. “If you keep flinching so much, this is gonna take forever.”

Maverick swallowed hard. Slider’s hands roamed over his back familiarly as the first bite cooled down. He had to admit – the cold did sooth the itch. Slider stepped closer, a wall of warmth along Maverick’s back. He plucked one of the cubes out of the towel and pressed it against a bite low on his shoulder blade. Maverick hissed at the surprise.

 Slider chuffed a laugh, warm air rushing through Maverick’s hair. “Easy, now.”

 “You could have warned me.”

“Mmm, but what’s the fun in that?”

Maverick had no answer. Slider shifted the towel to another bite and the cooled skin trembled when exposed to the kitchen air. Maverick breathed carefully through an open mouth as Slider put the uncovered ice cube on a bite up by the nape of his neck. Slider’s thumb balanced on the side of his neck, making his pulse flutter.

“That should be most of them,” Maverick rasped an interminable time later.

“Are you sure?” Slider accompanied the question with a lazy glide of his hand down Maverick’s spine, the cooled tips of his fingers lighting up every inch of skin he touched.

“Yeah.” Maverick needed Slider to stop touching him. He needed him to never stop . . . “I think the ice did all it’s gonna do for me.” The cubes were melting. Water trailed down his skin, making him shiver as it streamed down toward the waistband of his pants.

Slider grabbed Maverick’s hips and spun him around. Maverick’s head dropped back, startled, to make eye contact. “I-I can do the front.”

“Of course you can.” Slider bit back a smile, but lines deepened around his sparkling eyes.

Wet and cold trailed over Maverick’s pecs. There was a bite on his sternum that got covered first. He shifted as Slider’s hand moved once the inflamed spot was cold, the motion making the ice land on his nipple. Gasping, he pushed up into Slider’s arm to move him away.

“Where are you going with that?”

“Wherever I want?” Now Slider had to be messing with him. He glided the loose cube down the centerline of his midsection and watched as it trailed into the coarse hair above his bellybutton.

“What if I want you to do what you want?” Maverick had to clear his throat twice before the words came out. Slider’s eyes snapped back up to stare into his face, blown dark with want.

Maverick reached out and cupped the side of Slider’s face, reveling in how the rasp of his stubble felt against his fingertips. Then he traced the bridge of his nose down to his grinning mouth. From there it was easy to sway closer and close the distance between their lips.

Slider deepened the kiss with a soft growl. He tipped Maverick’s chin up to improve the angle of attack, their noses bumping as they worked to set a give and take. His strong hands clutched at Maverick’s waist and drew their bodies in closer, pressing the growing warmth of their arousal together.

The sound of a key turning in the lock interrupted them. Flushing, Maverick threw himself off the countertop and raced to retrieve his shirt as Ice walked in to the living room.

“Maverick? Why aren��t you wearing a shirt?”

“Mosquito bites. Ice helps.” He got caught with one arm in the head hole. Ice snorted and helped get him sorted out.

“Slider, next time you want to flirt with your boytoy, make sure I’m not going to walk in. This could have been very embarrassing for all of us.” Ice glared at his RIO, but he fought back a smile.

Maverick spluttered, but Slider cut in before he could reply. “Sure thing, Ice. We wouldn’t want to scar you for life.”               

Slider winked at Maverick as he turned to dump the ice in the sink. Confused and feeling very caught out, Maverick darted away from Slider to the relative safety of the couch. Ice’s mirth diffused a lot of the tension in the room, but interest still simmered low in his belly. Maybe next time (was he really going to consider that there could be a next time???), Ice wouldn’t show up, and he’d see how far things would go

[sp0o0kylights]

The Occult Summoner Starter Kit was a failed competitive toy to Hasbro's Ouija Board (a game that was doing numbers in 1986 for reasons the government would later pretend they noticed a lot sooner than they actually did.) 

Unfortunately for the toy company, The Occult Summoner Starter Kit (complete with two real, black candles!) was a total flop.

In fact it barely sold at all, stubbornly hanging on to sale racks to the point where you could offer a store owner a dollar and they'd be delighted just to have the shelf space. 

No one really bought them, outside of confused grandmothers and a handful of children who used the candles for arson.

Eddie Munson bought seven.

Initially it had just been three kits, because it was cheap and making a proper set up for D&D boss battle was an art form. 

The rest was something of a joke. Some asshole a year above him decided Eddie ran a cult and made sure the entire school knew, earning Eddie endless amounts of stupid, mocking questions.

In return, he had found it absolutely hilarious to offer Occult Summoner Starter Kits to anyone being a jackass.

You gotta make your own fun, sometimes. 

At least it came in handy now that they were attempting to summon some actual occult bullshit. Eddie had no idea if the sets were going to work, but it was better than the two cans and a fricken string Henderson and Sinclair had presented him with. 

"You use those as a telephone, not to talk to the dead." He'd chastised, which lead to Sinclair sputtering and Henderson going on a rant that included words like "psychic-soundwaves" and "electromagnetic fields."" 

IE way above Eddie's own head, even if he was loath to admit it. 

At least Harrington hadn't bothered to pretend he knew what the kid was on about, looking at Dustin with exasperation so fond it gave Eddie the worst urge to bite something.

Preferably Harrington. 

Which, in retrospect, should have been the first sign something had gone horribly wrong because Eddie's bite reflex only came out this strong for cute shit. 

"Explain to me again what exactly we are trying to contact?" 

"Not a what, who." Henderson corrected, setting up the kits he'd snatched from Eddie's arms. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Okay fine. Who exactly are you trying to connect to? And why the hell did we have to do it specifically in King Steve's backyard?"

Shock of shockers that his majesty even let Eddie in the house, let alone Eddie armed with a literal stack of a game that would have sent most of his neighbors fleeing in terror. 

"Would you stop interrupting?" Dustin snapped, looking up from his work with an annoyed frown. "You're just as bad as Steve! Go talk to him so I can concentrate." 

The tone alone would have made Eddie gape, but the sheer audacity of it all threw him so hard he just stood there wide eyed. 

Unsure if it had actually happened, or if he had just hallucinated. 

Hell, maybe this whole thing was one giant weed induced coma dream, and he'd wake up all snug in the trailer. Warm, childless, and not anywhere near Steve Harrington's stupid, perfectly shaped ass. 

(The very same ass that was currently wearing shorts that hugged them so tightly it made Eddie want to scream and pull at his hair. 

Shorts shouldn't fit like that, dammit!) 

"I keep telling him he needs to work on his tone." Harrington said, startling Eddie out of his thoughts and making him blush scarlet. 

A fact he quirky hid by running his hands over his face. 

"No kidding." Eddie muttered. Louder, he asked; "Why is this even happening?"

Steve blinked. 

"Huh?" 

"This kinda thing isn't exactly your scene, man. In fact, I recall several remarks about how you wouldn't be caught dead playing with," Eddie removed his hands so he could make air quotes, "--fake nerd bullshit."

Steve flinched, looking away while rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

"I used to be an asshole, yeah." He said. 

Eddie made a loud, ugly noise. 

"Used to?" He challenged, crossing his arms. 

"Still am sometimes." Steve admitted, a soft, apologetic look on his face. "The kids made me wanna change, though, and after I did I realized that I never really liked who I was." 

He smiled absently at the trio crouched down on the pool deck as he talked, voice startling honest. 

Not that Eddie was about to let it slide. He didn't have any proof that Harrington had changed. 

Not really. 

The fact he'd noticed Steve had stopped hanging out with his douchebag friends his last year, or that Eddie had walked face-first into a pillar upon seeing him working at Scoops before the mall burnt down didn't count. 

Not that Eddie kept an eye out for the guy or anything. 

"Still." He snipped, shaking the thoughts away with a toss of his head. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd let them try to summon a dead guy in your backyard." 

The very idea of it was the kind of absurd that even Eddie couldn't believe. 

Except the look Steve was giving him now wasn't embarrassed or even annoyed.

It was puzzled. 

Surprised, even.

"Oh they didn't tell you?" Steve said, raising an eyebrow. "They're not trying to summon a dead guy."

A pit of dread bloomed in Eddie's stomach, an internal warning that things were about to go sideways, fast. 

"What are they trying to do then?" Eddie asked, the words crawling out of his mouth without his permission.

"They're trying to call El--Mike's girlfriend, in California." Steve said, which was interesting because it confirmed that Mike wasn't lying when he insisted his little girlfriend was a) real and b) did in fact like being called Eleven instead of Jane sometimes. 

"Apparently they rang up a nasty phone bill trying to include her on a party line call last week." Steve waved a hand. " So Occult Summoner kit it is." 

"They woke me up, at eight in the morning, on a Saturday," Eddie began, horrified, "so the three of them could call Mike's long distance girlfriend?" 

"Mmhmm." 

"I'm going to kill them." Eddie said faintly. He swayed backwards dramatically, though part of him really did go lightheaded with the knowledge that the freshmen had walked all over him for once instead of their self-proclaimed babysitter. 

Alarmingly, Harrington reached out, as if he was going to catch Eddie like the fucking Disney prince the entire town thought he was. 

Eddie ended the dramatics immediately, before he made a fool of himself by actually falling (or worse, said something stupid the second Steve's arms came around him, the very thought of which made him want to throw up and die.) 

Satisfied Eddie wasn't going to go down like a Victorian maiden, Harrington slowly lowered his arms back to his  sides

"Want a beer?"  He offered, as Eddie silently choked on his own anger. 

"God yes." 

                                                           xXx

Conceptually, Eddie understood how ended up hungover in Steve's bedroom. 

The kids had taken so long that they'd run through an entire case of beers, which hadn't seemed to phase Harrington one bit, but had, rather unfairly, put Eddie right on his ass.

Since he was unable to drive the kids home, Steve had ended up dropping them off instead, and then picked up pizza on the way back for Eddie to sober up over like the good civilian he was. 

In return, Eddie had offered some of his weed as both an apology and a thank you--and then made the mistake of taking up Steve's offer of smoking it with him. 

"Had a bad trip a while back." The younger man had said, almost shyly. "I don't really get high much anymore, and never by myself.” 

How could Eddie say no to that?

Which of course meant he'd then smoked and ate and ended up getting into Harrington's father's expensive scotch--

("You cannot sit here and tell me there's not a difference between five dollar and one hundred dollar scotch Steve. I don't believe it."

"Dude give me two minutes and I will prove to you they taste exactly the same.") 

--which meant no driving home. 

The bedroom had come into play when Eddie found himself in a discussion on rich people's horrible taste in décor. 

Sure, using Steve's own house as an example wasn't the brightest of ideas, except Steve had simply raised an eyebrow and told him that the bare ass, gray living room they sat in was nothing. 

Led him up to his room, upon which Eddie had become so dizzy staring at all the plaid that he’d laid down dramatically on Steve’s bed and loudly declared he’d died from horrible décor. 

Considering the plaid everything in Steve's own room was currently making Eddie's hangover worse, he thought he'd rather proved his point.

What Eddie didn’t understand is why Steve hadn’t kicked him out of the house already. It wasn’t like they were friends. Hell, he and Steve had barely spoken before today, and even then they’d only had a few stilted conversations that had been the result of Henderson trying to force them to become buddies. 

Okay, Steve ended up being fun to hang out with. Yes he had in fact, changed from the King persona he wore so easily in high school. No Eddie and he had never had any kind of direct confrontation with each other, but it was a damn small town. 

You couldn’t walk three feet without repeatedly running into other people’s business. 

It was still weird. 

The sun beaming into the room declared it was at least past 9 am, and the smell of coffee and breakfast foods wafting up the stairs hinted that Steve had been up before him for at least thirty minutes, minimum. 

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and Eddie looked up to watch as Steve, fully dressed, came trotting through the door, a glass of water in hand. 

"Morning.” Steve said with a grin. “You doin’ ok man? Remember everything you did last night?"

"This isn't my first hangover, Harrington."  Eddie scoffed, scooting to the edge of the bed. He gratefully accepted the glass of water Steve gave him, chugging it empty before carefully setting it aside on the nightstand. “A few beers and some weed isn’t enough to give me amnesia.” 

Which of course, wasn’t true at all--his memories were a blurry mess after he landed in Steve’s bed, but he knew they’d had at least one more discussion before dropping off because he definitely recalled Steve laughing about Eddie insisting he sleep on the right side of the bed. 

Not that he was going to admit that to King Steve, whose clearly high level of tolerance probably stemmed from stupid jock genes.

(Or a family history of alcoholism, but Eddie had found out the hard way one tended to get punched for stating that little fact.)

"Good." Steve said with a smirk. 

Then he walked over to the bed, placed a hand on either side of Eddie's hips, bent and kissed him.

It was a good kiss--a great kiss even!-- except Eddie’s entire brain ground to an abrupt halt, bodily functions and ability to kiss back freezing right with it. 

"Whaaa-".Eddie said intelligently once Steve departed, the only thought that came through the cloud of singing angels and buzzing static of confusion. 

Considered, maybe, that the room had actually killed him because Steve? And Eddie?

Kissing!?

Harrington moved back, "There. Proof.” He teased, looking up through his eyelashes with a downright sinful grin and oh god, could a man die twice? 

Eddie was certain he was about to find out if Steve kept looking at him like that. 

When Eddie didn’t answer (couldn’t!) Steve added coyly, “I thought you said you remembered everything?"

Except of course, his own lack of reaction had to ruin it because he saw the moment Steve realized Eddie was frozen in place. 

“You lied.” He decided, and the sweet, adorably smug look dropped off his face so fast that Eddie whined aloud. 

Steve removed his hands from the bed, pushing to stand up and put some room between them. He ran his hands through his hair and oh, oh shit, he was starting to panic. 

‘Say something. Say something right the fuck now you idiot-!’ 

“What am I not remembering?” Eddie asked, forcing the words out and not caring that they weren’t clear. He could make them clear in a moment if he had too, he just needed to know what the fuck just happened. “Because I know for a fact we didn’t kiss last night, there is no way in hell I would ever forget that.” 

Steve’s distressed look depend and okay, maybe he should have considered the words and tone better but you had to forgive a guy when his very straight crush decided to up and kiss him out of nowhere. 

Giving up any desire to look cool or casual about this in anyway (because he couldn’t, there was no way he was going to keep his composure through this and he might as well admit that to himself now, before he went and fucked up further) he reached out and made grabby hands at Steve.

“Come over while you explain it please, I need to touch you to make sure you’re real.” 

He got a squinted look in return, as if Steve was assessing to see if he was joking or not. 

Eddie just made the grabby gesture again, arms still outstretched. 

“Last night. We uh--talked. About um, gay stuff.”

Thankfully Steve did come closer as he spoke, though the movement was cautious. 

Eddie couldn’t blame him--this shit got you hate crimed after all--but made sure to grab at Steve anyway, obnoxiously patting him like he might disappear. 

Steve smiled slightly, before taking a breath and speaking. “I asked how you knew you were gay. You explained it to me, and I explained back that I thought I was bisexual.” 

Wow, there is a word Eddie had never thought he’d hear out of Harrington’s mouth. 

Fuck maybe Buckley was rubbing off on him!

“You told me that it sounded like I was but that sometimes you just didn’t know until you kissed someone. I asked if--if I could…” Steve blushed crimson, the red crawling across his cheeks and down his neck and holy shit, Harrington had come out to him.

Which of course just made him furious that he didn’t remember it, but hell, at least he was getting a repeat! 

“Ah, kiss you. To. Figure it out.” Steve plowed on bravely.  Eddie’s hands found their way to his wrists and squeezed them lightly, encouraging. 

“You said you didn’t take advantage of impaired men, even if they were pretty.”

And yeah, that did indeed sound like something he would say. 

“I told you it wasn’t like that but you insisted and said if I still wanted to know, I could kiss you in the morning.” Steve finished. He kept looking at Eddie and then away, like he was hopeful despite his embarrassment. 

Eddie took a chance, sliding his fingers down to the palms of Steve’s hands. Tapped and wiggled until he got what he wanted, which was to lace their fingers together. 

“So did you figure it out?” Eddie asked, and sue him if his voice sounded a bit breathy. This was the kind of shit porn and women's erotica was made out of. 

“Figure out…”

“If you like men.”

“Oh.” Steve paused. Then; “I’m not sure honestly, I kinda panicked when I realized you weren’t reacting.” 

Eddie grinned up at him, the look almost feral. “Want to kiss me again to find out?” 

A relieved sigh blasted out of Steve as Eddie tugged him down, a stupid grin breaking across his face. 

“Yeah.” He agreed. 

Then he once again boxed Eddie in, keeping Eddie’s hands in his as he ducked down and pressed their lips together. 

This time Eddie pressed back hungrily, deepening the kiss and letting the electricity of the moment cascade over him. 

Steve, as it would turn out, ended up needing to kiss Eddie several more times, in order to find out if he in fact liked men, or “if I just like you, Munson.”

Eddie, who had never in his life been happier to be a guinea pig, told him to take his time. 

(“Oh shit the pancakes!” Steve said suddenly, ripping his mouth away from where it had been licking a line down Eddie’s neck. 

“Not hungry.” Eddie responded, hands tangled up under Steve’s shirt, one leg hooked around Steve’s. 

“No I had the stove on, shit--” Steve yelped, trying to get up. Found himself laughing even in his panic as Eddie clung onto him stubbornly, like an octopus. “You can kiss me downstairs Munson, I have to make sure the house doesn’t catch fire!” 

“Fine.” Eddie pouted, releasing Steve and standing up after him. “But I want at least one more makeout session before we have any kind of serious conversation about this whole thing!” 

The grin Steve shot him made his knees weak. “Deal.” He agreed, before taking Eddie’s hand and rushing them both down the stairs.) 

[holylulusworld]

Deranged Marriage (9) – Two tidal waves

Summary: Your father wants you to choose a husband. Your chosen one doesn’t like the idea one bit.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x (Mafia daughter)! Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Alexander Pierce

Warnings: mentions of character’s death, language, strong/bratty reader, banter, sexual tension, enemies with sexual tension, making out, still idiots in love, hand around throat (non-sexual), threats, implied torture with knives

Deranged Marriage masterlist

<< Part 8

“Fucking hell, get it over with, James Buchanan Barnes. You’ve got a dick and she got…uh whatever that bitch is hiding under her cheap fake designer clothes,” you argue with Bucky again.

You cross your arms over your chest, huffing as Bucky refuses sex with Natasha. This is to make it more believable that he’s on her side.

“I don’t want to,” he bites back. Bucky points out that the same applies to you as well. “I’m not some breathing dildo you can use for your liking.”

“Yeah, but not so long ago you loved to fuck her on our dining table so,” you cock your head, “what’s the problem? Can the old man not get it up anymore? Do you need Viagra? I can ask Helen to get you some.”

“You fucking brat,” he growls in your direction. “One day I’ll put you over my lap and spank the life out of your bratty ass. You are frustrating and annoying.”

“Asshole.”

“I should just,” he throws his hands up, “leave you to yourself. I have no idea why I’m helping you. A bullet to my brain would be less painful."

“I can’t believe you are ruining our chance to bring the people attacking my father down over a quickie. Just put it inside a little and disappoint her like every other girl you fucked.”

“That’s what you want? How about you watch me fuck her too, huh? I bet you are a kinky bitch." He smirks at you. “Go ahead and tell me about all the dirty fantasies you have about me and my sex life.”

“You mean your non-existent sex life,” you retort, mirroring his smirk. “I heard through the grapevine that you didn’t get any lately.”

“Because of you,” he’s in your face, breathing hard. “Every woman in town believes we will marry and they are afraid of you and your father.”

“Aw, I’m cock blocking you?” you coo. “What a pity you refuse to fuck Natasha. Your dick would feel so much better after going for a ride with her.”

“I told you,” you gasp as his hand wraps around your neck. He grips your neck tightly, forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Why? She’s your type.”

“Dead is not my type.”

You frown deeply. Just a few days ago Bucky and you talked about getting closer to the person who ordered the hit on you and your father through Natasha. “What do you mean by...dead?"

“Oh…did I forget to tell you she’s dead?” He smirks darkly as he watches your lips part.

“What? But we made all these plans and now…” You knit your brows together. "Wait, you killed her, didn’t you?”

“It was an accident,” Bucky leans closer to whisper in your ear. “Maybe I let slip that she’s a mole and that Natasha tried to warn your father. Pierce is no one to mess with, you know.”

“You—” you groan. “Why did you do this? That's stupid, Barnes. We had a plan.”

“Your plan included fucking Natasha.”

“Hell, I would’ve fucked her myself to get one step closer,” you huff. “You’re a coward, Barnes. Why couldn’t you fuck her…?”

“What’s done is done. I’m more of the hit them where it hurts guy. Not the one sneaking around to get information. While you made all these nice plans, Steve and I did your job.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We caught Pierce and two of his minions. Steve has a blast interrogating them. He just loves to toy with them,” Bucky purrs in your ear. His hand tightens around your throat, making you whimper. “If only you could see yourself now. So afraid I will choke you just a little harder.”

“We already confirmed that you are not man enough, sweetie,” you grit your teeth as he loosens his hold. It only takes Bucky's hand around your neck to show you what he can do. “Do it or stop toying with me.”

“You wish I would toy with you, doll,” he chuckles. “What a pity I won’t…”

“Alexander Pierce, in all his glory,” Steve laughs as Pierce fights the ropes holding him to a chair. “You see, Y/F/N and Y/N are my allies. They are Bucky’s allies. If you attack them, you attack us.”

“The thing is, we will let you live your pitiful life. We all tried to kill each other at least once." Bucky looks at the knives he placed on a table in front of Pierce. “What I want from you is to tell me who was involved in the hit. Who is the rat among Y/F/N's people?”

“I won’t tell you shit,” Pierce spits while talking. Even though Steve has already roughed him up over the past few hours, he refuses to give up.

“We will see." Bucky chooses one knife and wields it in front of Pierce’s face. “Did you ever hear about my talent with knives? I just love the feeling of metal cutting into skin and flesh.”

“Why won’t you let me interrogate him, Barnes?” You pace the room, huffing as Bucky refuses to answer. “Did he give you a name?”

“Romanoff was all he said,” Bucky huffs. “He’s a tough little bastard. I give him that. But no one withstood my knives forever. I will find the mole for you…I mean your father. I will find him for your father.”

“We already knew about Romanoff,” you grunt. “Why did you get her killed? This was stupid."

“Your face is stupid.”

You giggle at Bucky’s words. “Your face is stupid, and your beard…the hair…the muscles. Why are you always wearing a suit but no tie? That’s stupid too.”

When he grips your right arm roughly, he says, "I use all my ties to restrain brats. I leave them there for me to use.”

“You’re so…” you squeak when he roughly cups your face and crushes his lips to yours. Bucky devours your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and teeth. He won’t let up until you weakly push against his shoulders. “I can’t breathe, you…”

He silences your protests with his mouth again. Bucky keeps you from running your mouth by slipping his tongue into your mouth.

His hands move to your waistline to easily lift you and slam you into the wall behind you.

“What the fuck?" You can barely catch your breath. Bucky is all over you. He forces your legs around his waistline before his mouth is back on you. His hands grip your ass roughly as you grind against his swelling length.

“Shut up for a moment," he whispers against your lips. “Just stop talking. I only want to hear you moan my name from now on.”

In response, you fist his hair, making him growl. “If you want me to shut up, do me good, Barnes…”

>>Part 10

Tags in reblog.

[tarousbaby]

SPEND THE NIGHT !

A GOJO SATORU STORY

second chance trope !

kinktober day two !

masterlist <3

subby gojo, not explicitly stated but this is compliant with canon in terms of jujutsu and such.

word count: 2204

"this is so stupid, shoko," you argue, staring at your reflection, as she flutters around you, "i don't know why i let you talk me into this."

she rolls her eyes, mumbling through the cigarette sitting between her lips, "yeah, yeah, whatever. you've been such a grump, you need some dick anyway."

you scoff, and whirl around. shoko stands unimpressed, scissors raised to cut the tags off your brand new dress. "excuse me?"

"you're proving my point," shoko clicks her tongue, and spins your body back around. "can you just fuck a guy and dump him? it isn't that deep."

you blush, crossing your arms. "this is demeaning."

"it's helpful," shoko corrects, before straightening and brandishing her arms as if you were a shiny new toy. you glare at her from the mirror. she sighs, and rests her chin on your shoulder. "please, just, try and de-stress. dick or no dick, i think meeting some new people could help you. the organization i went through said all blind dates are optional. you can leave whenever you'd like."

you rub your temple. "you show a weird way of caring for me, you know that, right?"

she gives you a lazy grin. "yeah, but it's funny, so why not?"

you give shoko a small shove with a huff, before actually looking at yourself in the mirror. she'd done good. a small black mini dress, fancy enough for dinner, sexy enough for a late-night fuck. still, you grab a white cardigan from your closet and pull it over.

"now," shoko says, "if he doesn't fuck you, i certainly will."

"you're crazy," you retort, "go heal a patient or something."

"you love me."

"uh-huh, sure."

and despite what you said, you found yourself giggling in anticipation as you sit down at the nice dinner. your cheeks have found a heated blush, wondering who your stranger was. shoko had arranged most of it, you'd just told her your type of man.

the restaurant was nice, classy with soft music playing over a good sound system. perfect place for a first date, if you do say so yourself.

you're in the middle of inspecting the menu, when a body slides into the booth next to you. you lower the menu, only for it to fall right into your lap with your shock.

it's clear the man on the other end had not gotten a proper look at you, considering the menu, but he didn't need to. recognition flashed in his eyes, and you knew you were fucked.

satoru stares at you, his eyes bright behind his glasses, white hair falling across his face. he was still just as beautiful as you last saw him, and looked like just as much of a dick as before too.

"absolutely not," you scoff, and begin to stand, throwing your purse over your shoulder.

he fumbles for a second, tripping over his words, before he finally manages to latch onto your wrist. "wait," he manages, "i..i didn't know, i swear."

you pull your arm back, holding it to your chest. "cool, didn't ask. now, i'm going."

you only make it halfway out of your seat by the time he's blocking your side of the booth, something akin to desperation shining in his eyes. "please," he whispers, "give me a chance."

you scowl. "to do what? fuck me over for some stupid curse again? no thanks."

he shakes his head. "i messed up, i know. please, let me show you i'm better."

"what makes you think you deserve a second chance?" you spit.

he stays silent.

"please," he tries again. his wonderful eyes shine with deep sincerity, depths of blue pools that you find yourself falling so hard into you may not be able to crawl back out of.

and that's how you got here, sitting on a bed in a cheap motel, waiting for satoru to finish payment on the room. your sweater had been disregarded on the chair along with your purse and your heels scattered across the carpeted floor.

the room smelled of stale beer and sex, but that didn't matter much to you right now. what mattered were the heated words satoru had whispered to you after dinner.

"i need you," he'd borderlined whimpered, and next thing you knew you found yourself in front of some silly motel with his arm around your waist, awaiting your answer.

could anyone really blame you for saying yes?

the door closes with a soft click, and satoru rounds the corner. you quickly perk up on the bed, taking him in. his white blouse has been untucked from his black dress pants, and his blue tie hangs loosely around his neck.

a smirk grows on his lips, flashing a bit of his teeth, and you lean towards the end of the bed and reach for him.

grabbing onto the end of his tie, you pull him forward, the two of you falling back onto the bed into a pile of your giggles and his own laughter. his lips find yours, and suddenly three years worth of memories rush back to you.

he still tastes of the same gum he used to use, sugary and sweet, and absolutely devourable. you smile into the kiss, giving a playful tug to his tie, pushing his body even closer to yours.

satoru lets out a soft hiss of pleasure, hands running up and down your sides, massaging your tits through your dress. you groan, throwing your head back and revealing an expanse of smooth skin. satoru takes his chance immediately, biting down onto your neck, and sucking loving bites into your flesh.

you click your tongue, letting him suck a little, before pulling him back by the hair, earning a whine from him. he already looks drunk off you, lips red and cheeks flushed.

soft white lashes blink down at you confused.

"not tonight, baby," you grin, "it's my turn."

something flashes in his eyes, and you flip positions, pushing his back into the plush of the bed, straddling his hips. you can see the thoughts buzzing around in his mind. had he really never been a sub before? wow.

"i'll be gentle," you promise, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and feeling him shudder at your words. "just tell me what you want, baby."

"you," he answers shyly, "wanna feel you."

you smile, and let his words effect you. you were no stranger to satoru's shyer, softer side but it still hit the same as it did when you were eighteen. "of course," you say, "ill touch you all you want."

you press soft kisses to his neck, easing his tensed muscles, and slide his shirt off his chest. despite his abundance of strength, satoru kept a rather lithe figure. your hands run over his abs, and up to his pecs. you tweak and pinch, eliciting sweet moans from his lips.

he bucks against your core, trying so hard to be still and patient for you. "doing so good, 'toru, so good," you mumble, before licking one long stripe across his pec, and taking his small nipple into your mouth.

his back arches off the bed, lusting for more, more, more.

your warm hands caress his cold body, and his hands come to rest on your hips as a means of steadying himself. he was acting as if touching you was the only thing keeping him from floating off into his own mind, which it just might be.

"more," he begged, chin tilted up and his eyes screwed shut. "need you so bad."

you snicker and unbuckle his belt. he wastes no time in helping you peel off his pants and throw them to the floor beside you. you rest your heated core right above his throbbing dick and give slow soft rocks. the head of his dick hits your clit just right, which has you openly mewling into the heated air.

"such a good boy," you say, breath hitching in your throat, "so patient."

he nods, hand clasped over his mouth in order to not let out any more noises he must deem embarrassing.

once you got your high off that, you move a bit further down his thighs, feeling the muscle ripple and twitch beneath you. you cup his bulge, before dipping your fingers beneath the fabric of his boxers and pulling them off.

his cock is a pretty pale, with a pink flushed tip, leaking pre-cum over his stomach. twitching and aching to be touched. satoru bucks his hips up at the air, and you gently take him into your hands, giving slow strokes up and down.

you smear the precum gathering on his tip over his cock, moving your hands up and down in slow fluid movements. ocasionally, you'll bring your hand up and use your thumb and rub at his sensitive slit, making him whine near uncontrollably.

"faster," he pleas, crystal tears clinging to his lashes, "wanna cum so bad."

you sigh, feigning disappointment. "good boys wait to cum, satoru. don't rush me."

his eyes go wide, and he quickly shakes his head. "'m sorry, 'm not tryna rush you."

you beam, "there we go," you coo, taking immense pleasure in the way he writhed.

you lean down and give a kitten lick to satoru's slit. his reaction makes it all worth it, watching him nearly scream, pretty red lips parting as his back arches off the bed.

his hands fly to your hair, twirling locs around his fingers. you hum, sending vibrations down his shaft.

you give one long lick, before pulling back and using your added saliva to allow your hand to flow more smoothly up and down his dick.

your cunt throbbed, imagining that long length inside you, trying your hardest not to jump his bones in that moment.

it went on like that for a while. your hand would speed up, satoru would almost cum, and you'd rip away completely. it happened a few times till he finally broke.

tears stream down his pink cheeks, and he catches your hands, and you can see just how desperate he truly is. "please, let me cum. needa cum so bad."

you hum and press a kiss to his cheek. "only because you asked so nicely."

pulling your dress off, you groan when your tits finally bounce freely, and you slip your panties off. you take his length into your hands and rub his tip through your soaked folds. you hadn't bothered to prep, but you knew with how wet you were, it might as well be the same thing.

soft moans escape your lips, drowned out by his utter estascy upon feeling you again. "wanna go inside," he chants, drool clinging to the corners of his lips.

you laugh, and hover over him, aligning him with your hole.

slowly, you sink down, moaning and mewling the whole way down. "oh fuck, 'toru...i forgot how nice you felt."

his hands move from your hair to your breasts, pinching and playing with your nipples, only adding to your pleasure as his tip finally breaches you and you've officially taken his full length without any struggle.

"fillin' me up so good, pretty," you whimper, slowly shifting your hips in a grinding motion. his tip hits your spot damn near perfectly, but what really gets you off is how badly he wants you.

his fingernails dig into your flesh, trying so hard to hold back from pounding into your pussy. still, he manages. "can i cum inside? please?" he cries.

"yes," you pant, as you begin to speed up, bouncing up and down on his cock. "i want all your cum."

"baby!" he shouts, his hoarse voice filling the air along with the sloppy sounds of your slick sticking to his skin. "can't last long, not after that. please..."

he doesn't want to cum before you. what a gentleman.

you speed up to an excruciating pace. your thighs burn, but you're oh so close and so is he. you almost never want to stop. you want to feel him in you forever, take pleasure in all his reactions.

"'gonna cum 'toru!" you squeal, gritting your teeth.

"cum with me, baby," he says, lifting his torso up to meet your lips in a kiss.

there's so much going on, with his cock hitting you perfectly, to his hands massaging your breasts, to his mouth on yours. you can't handle it.

"fuck!" you shout, cumming hard on his cock. after shocks shudder through your body, and the force of you cumming is enough to send satoru over the edge too.

he falls limp, panting as his cheek rests on your shoulder, his seed filling you up and spilling out of you all at once.

your hand reaches up and curls in his hair, scratching at his scalp gently.

"you were so perfect," you whisper, and satoru whines.

the next morning, when satoru wakes up, you're gone. the only sign you were ever there was the pool of water in the bottom of the shower, and the lipstick smudges on the white pillow cases.

oh, and maybe the note you'd left on the nightstand. scribbled down was your new number, and a small message saying, 'call me!'

[demonic-shadowlucifer]

LPSCon: How *NOT* to host an event

(Trigger Warning: Brief references to suicide/self-harm and gaslighting) Welp, I read about it, and knew it was something that needed to be talked about.

If you're an active member of the LPS Community, you might be familar with LPSCon. Maybe you've attended it before. Or at the very least heard the name. But for those who don't, put simply, LPSCon is a convention around Littlest Pet Shop (LPS) toys, and the community that surrounds it (Think LPSTube!). LPSCon has had issues, as all conventions do. However, this year was *especially* a disaster. Now, I have never attended LPSCon, and after the events and stories I've heard about this year's, I most likely will not ever attend. This is based on the experiences I have heard from multiple individuals, and sources will be linked at the end. What Went Wrong

For starters, the event took place during an incredibly hot day in Vegas. Vegas. In summer.

Of course, that went about as well as you'd expect. There was little to no shade, no water (And when there *was* water, people had to pay for it, which wouldn't be an issue IF NOT FOR THE FACT PEOPLE WERE DEHYDRATED AND EXHAUSTED FROM HEAT), and poor air conditioning, meaning that even indoors it was still very warm. People were fainting, some had to leave early due to the heat, and one attendee stated that a friend "basically got heat stroke" as a result.

As for food, there were only two food trucks. *Two*. And little variety. No outside food or drink was allowed, and the trucks eventually had to close due to overwhelming orders. I can only imagine how exhausted the staff at those food trucks were. Next, the venue. I'm just gonna cut to the chase on this one: The venue was an awful *awful* choice. It got overcrowded way too quickly, tables ran out of room. And the upper floors were reserved for VIP only, which didn't do anyone favors. It was also incredibly inaccessible, with the mics and hosts being extremely loud, which was overstimulating to some, and no way for wheelchair users to get around. On top of that, security was no help. At some point, they just gave up and let *anybody* in and barely did bag checks (Something that is INCREDIBLY fucking dangerous). On top of that, staff was rude and snarky to others, with one attendee being refused a slice of confetti cake very rudely during the cake-cutting event! As well as allegations of a diabetic attendee not being allowed food (or allowed to bring their own food?) On top of that, the event itself was a total disaster. During the event, there were goodie bags (Known as "swag bags") given out. Those bags were supposed to contain LPS toys, candy and other items. What most fans got were some G4 LPS that had missing heads, unwrapped candy that was most likely expired, a ton of random garbage, LPS that were *incredibly* dirty or broken, and some attendees got no LPS in their goodie bags at all!

Additionally, many people's items (Including LPS) were stolen or lost. And any attempts at getting them back were unsuccessful, with LPSCon not cooperating whatsoever. The prices on items were also *horrible*, with some LPS being unreasonably overpriced, and other items being unreasonably cheap, including raffle tickets.

And don't even get me started on the stupid foam party.

LPSCon's "Apology"

After the event, LPSCon "apologized" on their Instagram page. And I put "apologized" in quotes due to them failing to acknowledge the actual issues at hand.

They made a second post later on, that was arguably worse than the other. Instead of apologizing, not only did they double down, they also straight up made guilt-trippy comments.

Now, harassment is bad. I've made that clear many times before. But once you resort to gaslighting tactics, including a threat of SH or suicide, you lose all credibility.

In summary

LPSCon 2024 was a pathetic excuse of an event. Poor staff, awful prices, terrible prizes and management, and oh yeah did I mention that the organizers behind LPSCon may or may not be money-grabbing con artists?

We've seen many awful cons before. From Dashcon to whatever the fuck that Willy Wonka event was, this might be worse. This is a poorly planned event, and one that was all but doomed from the start. The organizers of LPSCon should be ashamed of themselves. And until there's changes made, I suggest you guys don't waste your money on this "convention".

Sources/accounts from others: LPSCon Experience Megathread on Reddit.

LPSCon 2024 was a Mess By ZombieXCorn.

What Really Happened at LPSCon by Sugar Diamond

Instagram post by felicitylps

Instagram posts by hudson_lps

Instagram post by written_wolf