#especially Jonathan’s room and camera

[share-the-damn-bed]

It makes me so sad to think about the Byers house in California sitting there, shot up, with all of their possessions dumped about and/or smashed.

…I hope they get it all back.

[steddiealltheway]

It's El's birthday, and she gets a Polaroid camera. It's from Jonathan but funded with the help of Steve who tells him not to tell her, but after a little negotiating, Steve agrees to say the film is from him and the camera is from Jonathan.

Some people are a little weirded out by the whole thing since Jonathan and Steve were never really close, but Steve had been adamant about how he wanted to help in any way possible with the party. When Jonathan had voiced his concern about how much the perfect gift was, Steve immediately chipped in putting down any protest Jonathan had.

And there El sat with the Polaroid in her hands, gazing down at it with such wonder and joy that Steve couldn't help but know he had made the right decision - even if he was digging into some of his savings from Scoops, but no one needed to know that.

Only, Eddie leans over and nudges him as El is thanking them and moves on to unwrap the next present. Steve turns to him and furrows his brow. What? Eddie raises his eyebrows and tilts his head toward the camera. That's not a cheap gift. Steve just shrugs as nonchalantly as possible, but Eddie shakes his head with a smile and squeezes his knee. You're unbelievable.

And that's the thing about Eddie, ever since the Upside Down, it was like they were inseparable when put in the same room together. He somehow always knew what Steve was thinking and could communicate with a few looks.

And everyone thought this was way stranger than the whole Jonathan and Steve buying a joint gift thing.

Dustin was especially exasperated by the way they would sometimes look at each other and just burst out laughing, yelling at them to stop talking about him in front of him. Steve and Eddie would argue that they had no idea what he was talking about especially since they hadn't said anything (but most of the time it was about Dustin).

After El gets through the rest of the gifts, she grabs her camera and asks Jonathan how to work it as everyone starts to scatter a bit. Steve finds himself on the couch next to Eddie as Robin and Nancy talk about the latest thing Nancy had written for Hawkin's Post.

Steve is telling some random story from work when there's a bright flash to his right. He flinches but recovers quickly when he sees El smiling as the picture develops. She glances up at Eddie and comments, "You have a very pretty smile." Then, she goes on to Nancy and Robin, waiting for the perfect candid photo opportunity, but Steve can only stare at Eddie.

He's staring off at El with a slight blush on his cheeks and a bashful smile. Steve can't help but think about what El said. He had never really thought about that before, but she was right. He has a very very pretty smile.

The party goes on, and Steve can't help but try to make Eddie smile as often as he can which isn't too hard considering Eddie seems to smile at anything Steve says - even his lamest jokes. But eventually, the party is wrapping up, and Steve is in charge of taking Dustin and Robin home.

Eddie says a quick goodbye to Steve and gives him a hug that Steve tries to linger in as long as he can before he fondly watches Eddie pull Dustin into a tight hug that makes the younger kid shriek. He feels like he's bursting at the seams with joy.

He gets tapped on the shoulder and turns to find Jonathan looking at him and waving him to the side. Steve follows him quickly. "I just wanted to thank you again for your help with El's gift, and I also wanted to congratulate you, man."

Steve's brows furrow in confusion, and Jonathan claps him on the arm. "Eddie's a really great guy. And, hey, I talked to El, and I thought you'd want this."

Steve is a bit confused by the random mention of Eddie until he looks down at what Jonathan is handing him. It's the Polaroid picture from earlier with him smiling at Eddie, going on about something as Eddie fully smiles back at him, leaning toward him with his hand on Steve's knee. How had he not noticed how close they were before?

The picture sends a wave of warmth through him and his heart beats a bit faster, but he thanks Jonathan and puts the photo in his wallet. The two linger and Steve kind of thinks to hell with it and hugs Jonathan before saying goodbye. Maybe all the bad shit can just be pushed behind them.

He turns and finds Eddie staring at him with a smile that looks forced and tight, but he when tilts his head, Eddie just shakes his head. Nothing.

Steve continues to look at him but decides to shrug it off. Eddie knows he can always talk to him, but Steve can't help but hope his genuine pretty smile will return soon.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve finds himself pulling the photo out of his wallet a lot. Especially when he's having a bad day or feeling down. It's used as a kind of secret happiness drug. All he has to do is pull out the picture and look at Eddie in it to get a burst of joy and energy.

The problem is that people start to notice. And by people, he means the kids.

It happens when they visit Family Video a couple of times, and Steve finds himself longing for Eddie to be there with the group, so he'll hide his wallet behind the counter and pull the picture out where the kids - and Robin - can't see it.

But one time, he finds himself staring at the picture for too long and Dustin demands to know what he's staring at. Steve brushes it off as nothing, and Dustin narrows his eyes at him for a moment before letting it go.

Steve vows to be a little more careful after that, but that leaves him wondering why he's being secretive about this picture of him and Eddie. And what does that mean?

-:-:-:-:-:-

It's a few days later when Steve rushes into the basement of the Wheeler home, trying to get Dustin to leave before he breaks his curfew. Dustin begs him for five more minutes which Steve grants him, but he can't help but wonder if he would've gone quicker if Eddie was there.

Thinking about it leads Steve to wander off away from the kids so he can open his wallet and look at the picture. He instantly gets that surge of warmth that has him biting his lip to keep from giggling. He nearly rolls his eyes at himself since he's acting like a middle school girl with a crush. He takes a few moments to try to fully memorize the picture when it hits him.

A middle school girl with a crush.

He puts the picture back in his wallet immediately and stuffs it in his pocket. He looks at Dustin who is already looking at him. "Whose picture do you have in your wallet, Steve?"

Steve turns bright red and it only further confirms his feelings. Oh god, he has a crush on Eddie Munson and has a picture of him in his wallet which he uses to feel happy. Oh shit.

Steve just says, "Come on, Henderson."

As the others start yelling at him asking who it is, Steve snaps that it's none of their business which only makes them pry further. He ignores them all the way to his car, and once he gets in, he tells Dustin, "Bring up the picture again, and I'll make sure to drive under the speed limit the entire way home."

Dustin glances at the clock and mimes zipping his lips, locking them, and throwing the key away. It only reminds Steve of Eddie.

The rest of the drive is fairly quiet as Steve thinks about the new development. He has a crush on Eddie. That's fine. That is definitely fine. It is all good and fine.

When he gets to Dustin's place, the boy turns to him and asks, "The person means a lot to you, don't they?"

Steve looks at Dustin and catches the seriousness of his look. He nods confirming what he said.

Dustin smiles. "Well, I can't wait to figure out who they are."

With that, he gets out of the car and jogs off to the front door, waving before he gets inside.

Steve drives away after a minute of making sure everything is okay and is left with his thoughts again.

Everything is not fine. And he doesn't know what's happening, so he goes to the only place he knows will help.

He parks his car and gets out, rushing to the side of the house to knock on the window. The light comes on and the curtains open. "Steve?"

The window is quickly lifted up and Steve climbs through. "Hey, Robin."

Then, he promptly has a meltdown of confusion and confesses everything to Robin. He pulls out the picture and hands it over.

Robin takes a few moments to stare at the photo before she hands it back to him. The two sit in silence until Robin finally says, "Oh my gosh, you have a crush on Eddie Munson."

"Yeah," Steve says in response.

And before he knows it the both of them are laughing loudly, trying to muffle it so they don't wake Robin's parents up which only causes them to laugh harder.

Steve says through the laughter, "Am I gay?"

Both of their laughter dies down, and Robin answers, "Probably bisexual."

"What that?"

"When a person likes men and women."

Steve sits in it for a second and nods. "Yeah, that makes sense."

And for some reason, this has them both laughing again. Steve can't help but hold up the picture and stare at it again. He really really likes Eddie Munson.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Two days later, Steve is trying to determine how much longer he can avoid Eddie. It's not exactly avoiding him when they just don't happen to run into each other, but pretty soon, it might turn into purposeful avoiding.

It's just... Steve doesn't know how to act around Eddie anymore. And he knows that when he has feelings for someone he's all or nothing and extremely obvious. And all the kids are a little too smart for their own good.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't know what he's going to do.

The doorbell rings, and Steve sighs again. Better not be the kids.

He opens the door and is not prepared to find Eddie Munson at his front door.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you, too. I thought I'd stop by, have a little chat," Eddie says with a smile but sounds extremely suspicious.

Shit, he might know.

Eddie tries to slip past him, but Steve steps in his way. All this does is get Eddie way closer to him than Steve can handle at the moment but he manages to ask, "What are you really doing here?"

Eddie's eyes deceive him and Steve clearly sees there's an ulterior motive. Eddie throws his hands up. "Fine! I was sent here on a mission."

Steve crosses his arms and steps back. "A mission?"

Eddie nods with a small smile. His eyes flicker past Steve, and that's when Steve realizes he messed up.

Eddie shoots past him and up the stairs. "Munson!" Steve calls after him slamming the front door close before racing after him.

Steve finds Eddie in his room with his wallet in his hand. Oh shit.

Steve stands in place, trying to feel out where Eddie is going next. "Give it back now. I'm serious, Eddie."

Eddie holds the wallet up high and slowly walks back. "I've been tasked... to find out who is in your wallet." Steve slowly steps forward, hoping to corner Eddie as he talks. "Now, the kids were worried that maybe it wouldn't be an appropriate picture if you know what I mean. So, I graciously accepted because I, too, am curious. Who has caught Steve Harrington's eye and given him a picture to remember them by?"

By now Steve is only a few steps away and ready to take the wallet back. Steve waits for Eddie to open his wallet before darting at him, but Eddie instead does the unthinkable.

He charges at Steve and somehow tackles him onto his own bed. Then, he climbs on top of him, straddling him and holding the wallet up high.

Steve's brain goes slightly fuzzy, so the only thing he can do is yell, "Please, you don't want to know!"

But Eddie opens the wallet and easily plucks out the picture, and all Steve can do is watch as he's trapped under Eddie. "I told you you wouldn't want to know," Steve mumbles, flushing red.

He watches as Eddie stares at it with a blank look on his face. A few moments pass and Steve quietly requests, "Can you at least get off of me?"

Eddie looks down at him and finally says, "No, I'm not going to let you escape." He makes it a point as he fully sits back on Steve's thighs.

Steve runs his hands over his face.

"Where did you get this?"

"Jonathan gave it to me after El's party," Steve answers staring at the ceiling, not wanting to know what Eddie's reaction is.

He feels him shift above him. "And... And this is the picture you've been staring at?"

"Yep," Steve replies immediately.

"Oh," Eddie says in a tone that Steve can't begin to describe.

"Yeah. Oh," Steve repeats back.

A few moments pass and Steve risks glancing at Eddie, but he's still staring at the photo. "Steve?"

Steve sighs, preparing for the letdown. "What, Eddie?"

"So, you know?" Eddie asks nervously.

Steve props himself up on his elbows. "Know what?"

Eddie shakes his head with a laugh. "Come on. You've stared at this picture long enough to read me." Eddie turns the picture around as if proving a point.

Steve feels that same heat as he stares at the photo, he lightly smiles at it. "You look happy. And El was right, you have a pretty smile."

Eddie groans as if frustrated with his answer which causes Steve to fully sit up until he's practically nose to nose with Eddie. "You asked me to read you, and you already figured out my feelings, so why are you mad?"

Eddie groans again and thrusts the picture between them. "You're able to read every look of mine except this one. Come on, Steve. Look."

So, Steve looks back at the photo. At the way Eddie is leaning into him, the hand on his knee, the big smile, the way his eyes are lit up. Then, Steve does something he hadn't thought of before. He looks at himself.

He looks at the way he's staring at Eddie, looking for that approval but mirroring him in his look. Steve looks back at Eddie as he seems to be hanging on to every word he's saying, not even paying attention to his surrounding. Neither of them are because...

Eddie has feelings for him, too.

The realization hits him quickly, and he can't believe he never saw it before. He loves the picture so much not only because of the way Eddie looks in it but because of the way Eddie is looking at him in it.

The picture slowly moves away and Steve breathes out, "Holy shit."

He refocuses his gaze on Eddie and sees that same look. The look that's always been there, but the only one that Steve has been unable to read. Eddie slowly smiles, and Steve can't help but mirror him.

Then, Eddie's eyes flicker down, and Steve knows exactly what that look means. But Eddie looks back into his eyes searching until he raises his eyebrows Can I? Steve nods, and they both surge forward closing the already small distance between them, kissing like there's no tomorrow.

Steve breaks away for air and asks, "Can I get a picture of this, too, for my wallet?"

Eddie laughs and replies, "As long as I get one to match." Then, he kisses Steve again, and Steve feels the same way he does whenever he looks at that picture - bursting at the seams with warmth and happiness.

Luckily when Dustin goes digging through Steve's wallet days later, he only finds the picture of them on the couch and doesn't notice the picture behind it of Eddie winking at the camera as he kisses Steve.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA BABY

A KINKTOBER SPECIAL - SEX TAPE WITH JONATHAN BREECH

Pairing.| Jonathan Breech x fem!reader

Summary.| You lose a bet with Jonathan. He has to record the experience to ensure it’ll happen again.

Warnings.| Dubcon, fingering, p in v, unknown recording, blackmail.

Word Count.| 1.4k

Notes.| Never edited this one hahahah so maybe i’ll do it down the track lol

Jonathan Breech had a non-wipeable smirk on his lips as he rode his bike down your street on this gloomy day. Typically, he wore that stupid gray trapper hat of his as he booted down the kickstand outside your front porch. He skipped up the porch stairs and dramatically knocked on your front door. After you made him wait, the door flung open revealing your fluffy robe as you looked him up and down with dissatisfaction. As you carelessly invited him into your home, Jonathan nodded his head in approval, his hands fisted into his pockets as he waltzed around the empty living room.

“Nice place” he commented quietly, earning a soft scoff from you.

“Don’t act like you care” you snorted, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Hey! You want to do this as much as I do” Jonathan chuckled.

Quickly, you stomped towards him, standing mere inches away from him as he smirked at your restricted rage.

“I don’t want this at all” you growled, jabbing your fingers onto his right pec.

“Oh, stop playing hard to get” Jonathan teased, his hands snaking to your waist.

“You cheated…” you mumbled, your tone softening as your eyes lowered. You watched his squeeze the robe over your hips.

“Don’t be a sore loser now… I want us both to enjoy this” he murmured, his hands pulled you closer to him, his lips teasing yours by just brushing them against one another.

It was hard not to give into your desires and kiss him completely. But your amour propre was still too high, especially for your provoking classmate who’s ego was taller than his height.

Jonathan had been trying to woo you for months. However, you were like the roadrunner, you could never stop dashing away from him. Until he made a bet that you couldn’t refuse. For your final test in your mathematics class together, the highest mark would win. He’d be forced to never speak a word to you again. If he won? Your body. Jonathan was borderline failing so it seemed too good to be true. He proved you wrong when your teacher distributed your results. A two percent difference, to Jonathan’s benefit.

It’s not that you found him unattractive or anything, you just didn’t like his attitude at times. Not to mention the boost you got at him almost groveling below you. It was nice to be wanted, even though it was just downright sexual desire.

“How do I know you won’t just tell everyone as soon as you’re done with me?” you mumbled out.

Jonathan chuckled lightly before kissing you softly. “I’m a man of my word” he whispered before kissing you far more passionately.

Gradually, your arms snaked around him and you squeezed his body. The stress of if anyone found out about this disappeared from your mind, your focus completely on the goosebumps he gave you. As your hands ran up and felt the fabric of his stupid hat, you yanked it off and threw it across the room.

“Bedroom” he stated with a huff as your lips started for a split second.

If you didn’t lead him to your bedroom fast enough, he was ready to fuck you in the hallway. As you tumbled into your bedroom like horny animals, Jonathan smiled at the state of your room. Rockstar posters still on the wall, desk in the corner and plant pots all around your room, your childhood teddy bear on your bed. The floor was free of any dirty clothes or rubbish and a honey scented candle was lit.

Jonathan slipped off his jacket and pushed you both onto the bed. After he planted sloppy kisses all over your face, he untied your robe and groaned at your matching baby pink lingerie set.

“Was this to make me feel special?” Jonathan chuckled.

“Shut up” you huffed, subconsciously you covered your arms over your bare body.

Jonathan tutted and moved your arms to your side before he pressed his body on top of yours. As he humped his erection against your hips, he moaned into your mouth. You eagerly pulled his shirt over his head.

“Strip naked” he ordered firmly.

Huffing out in protest, you gave in and stripped completely naked before him. His hungry eyes took in every inch of your glory.

“Face down, ass up” he continued on.

You obliged and pressed the side of your face against the mattress, you ass poking out to him. Jonathan approached you and rubbed his fingers over your dripping cunt.

“Oh fuck Johnny” you moaned as he slipped his finger inside of you.

“I said face down” he huffed as he watched your head begin to turn back.

You clenched around him at his demand. Submitting to him was more pleasing than you had anticipated. Jonathan slipped his fingers out and quickly undressed. However, silently he retrieved the camcorder from his jacket pocket and turned it on without a sound. A relieved exhale left your lips as you heard him rip open the wrapper and snap on his rubber.

The tip of his cock is pressed against your entrance and you murmur out. Slowly, he pushed his thick member inside of your squeezing walls.

“You like that baby?” Jonathan cocked an eyebrow as he slowly buried his cock completely inside of you.

“Yeah Johnny, so good…” you lightly moaned, your eyes fluttered back as you adjusted to his size.

“Fuck baby, should have let me fuck you sooner” Jonathan chuckled as he slowly began to pump his size in and out of you, his fingertips rubbed near your clit.

You hummed out in response, hips rocking back as you quickly matched his rhythm. He held the camera right above you as he rocked his hips back and forward. Occasionally he would direct the device to the back of your head as you moaned out in pleasure. He made sure to give you plenty of compliments to keep you satisfied.

“Like my cock?” Jonathan grumbled

“Yeah Jon, I like it a lot” you admitted carelessly.

“Should we do this more often?” Jonathan chuckled darkly.

“Yeah” you gasped as he hit your g-spot.

Repetitively, his head brushed against your sensitive bundle of nerves, your walls clenched heavily around him.

“Oh Jonathan!” You cried out, hands gripped like iron onto the bed sheets as he pounded into you.

Without even anticipating it, your high crashed over you. You screamed out in ecstasy, your hips rocking impulsively back onto his twitching cock. By how tightly his cock squeezed around you, he quickly came hard, his heavy load of cum swiftly begun to drip out of his condom.

“Fuck baby! So good, so fucking good” Jonathan praised as he slipped his length out of your soaking entrance.

He was the first guy to ever get you to finish. But you weren’t going to give him the glory by telling him that. You panted heavily, gasping for air, eyes closed shut.

“Smile for the camera baby” Jonathan grinned widely.

Your head shot back and you shrieked as you flipped yourself around and covered your body.

“Jon-Jonathan! What the fuck!” you yelped.

“What!” He mocked your tone and pitch.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! Turn it off!” You demanded, a mixture of panic and fury in your voice.

“No, no… Need to be sure we’ll be doing this again” Jonathan laughed heavily, a stern tone in his gleeful voice.

“Jonathan please!” You begged, your body trembled and eyes swelled.

Jonathan sighed and switched the camera shut. He pouted at you as he reached for his boxers and slipped them on without breaking eye contact with you. Gradually, he crawled onto the bed, the camcorder now placed on the floor.

“Come on, we were having so much fun, weren’t we?” Jonathan whispered, taking your body in his arms. He planted his lips onto your neck.

“Yeah…” you sniffled. Jonathan moaned in agreement, your eyes remained fixed on the camcorder as he worshiped your body.

“It’s not like I want to show anyone anyways…” He reassured, his hands trailing over your curves. “I don't want other guys ogling you” he continued, the possessiveness and jealousy dripping out of his words. After a short moment of silence, Jonathan looked into your eyes. “So, same time tomorrow?” He smirked at you.

“Fuck off” you muttered and shoved his hands off you.

Jonathan laughed lightly and slid off the bed. Quickly, he slid on his clothes, making sure to wave the camcorder at you before he slid it into his pocket. “See you then, in the meantime I’ll be watching our film” he smirked before picking up your robe and throwing it in your direction.

There was no farewell from you, he quickly left, not forgetting his hat before taking off on his bike.

[poisonedprose]

₊˚✧ smile for the camera, baby

aged up!mike wheeler x fem!reader smut

warnings: 0.6k words, mike takes suggestive pics of the reader, fingering (f), slight exhibitionism, (lowkey kinda jonathan core)

masterlists

Mike eyed the Polaroid that lay on his nightstand while you lay atop him, your only clothes being his hellfire shirt and a lacey pair of underwear. "Hey baby, wanna take some pictures?" He whispered, unsure if you were even awake, but alas you were and you were confused. "Pictures?" You were intrigued but you still laid still, not moving from your comfortable spot on his chest.

"Yeah, some pictures." He dragged his hand over the hem of your panties. "Think you'd make a pretty great model." He lifted the fabric slightly and let it snap back, spreading a burning sensation on your skin. You didn't quite know what he was getting at but you were more than ready to comply. 

His hand soothed over where he had just snapped your panties, waiting rather impatiently for your answer. "Okay." Your voice was still filled with sleep but you were more than capable of figuring out exactly what Mike was getting at. A satisfied smile spread across his face as he sat up on the bed and reached over to grab the camera.

You didn't know why, but a part of you was, well, excited about this. "Come 'ere." He pulled you closer to him as you rolled onto your back, a giggle emitting from your lips as he does so. He smiled at you, happy that you were actually enjoying this. Mike lifted the shirt by just a little, letting the fabric pool just above your belly button.  He brought the camera up to his face, looking through the lens to get a good angle. 

Even though the room was dark and the lights were off, he was still able to see your pretty panties through the camera. "Ready?" He asked and you nodded though he wasn't really looking at you. The camera flashed as he took the photo, letting the Polaroid print out.  Mike took the Polaroid out of the camera and laid it on the bed, already moving you into a new position as he waited for the picture to show up.  

He pulled you up from your position on your back. "Get on your hands and knees, okay?" Mike had never really been this dominant with you and it was honestly turning you on. You complied with his request, turning around and positioning yourself on your hands and knees as fast as your sleepy body could. You could hear Mike whistle at the sight as he rubbed a hand over your ass cheek. 

"Can I take these off, pretty girl?" He asks, referring to your underwear. "Yeah." You bite your lip as you feel the camera being set down on the bed and his fingers hook around your waistband. He slid them down slowly and courtly. He was never rough with you, no matter how desperate he was. 

"Oh, wow, look at you." You could feel his slender fingers rub up and down your folds mere seconds after he pulled your panties down as far as he could. You inhale a sharp breath at the touch, especially with how cold his hands are. "You enjoying this, sweetheart?" It was rhetorical, he could feel how much you were enjoying this. 

Without waiting for an answer he picks up the camera again, once again looking through the lens and trying to get the perfect angle. The idea of having a picture of your bare, glistening cunt for him to keep forever excited him. The idea of keeping it in his wallet where all his friends might see it. 

The room lights up again as he takes the picture. "Oh, yeah, that's gonna be a good one." Mike jokes as he places the picture next to the previous one. One of his hands comes up to rub your ass, sliding up and under your shirt. "You up for one more? Maybe without this shirt even though you look so hot in it." He smirks and suddenly you're even wetter than you were before.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎┊ㅤㅤ 🌾 ㅤㅤ ﾟㅤㅤ ┊

[godspeedviper]

The Arkham County Jane Doe - Crane x Reader x Hannibal (18+)

𖤐 Requested by Anonymous: Hi, could you maybe write a fanfic where both Dr. Crane and Hannibal are obsessed with their patient ( maybe in a mental hospital) and actively isolate her from other patients? After she tries to escape, they make it clear they won‘t allow it unless she stays with them in some form. With smut in the end?

𖤐 Type: Oneshot || Hannibal Lecter x Fem!Reader x Jonathan Crane || Smut || Crossover

𖤐 Word Count: 2,605

𖤐 Rating: Explicit || Spitroasting || Manipulation || Obsession || Threesomes || Asylums || Doctor/Patient Relationship

𖤐 A/N: Hope I got this one right! Apologies for taking so long with it, it's been the most challenging request I've written thus far. Thanks for trusting me with it!

When Hannibal first laid eyes on her, she was standing in a secure hospital room wearing what appeared to be just a men's XL shirt, plain, and some socks, all covered in dried blood and dirt. She was found in a shed on a vast property at the edge of Arkham county, held captive along with two other young women, who had originally gone missing from Franklin, Maryland. However, nothing was known about her in particular. No one had reported her missing, unlike the other two victims, and neither of the two knew her name. Most perplexing of all, she herself claimed to not know her identity either. With the perpetrator still in the wind, it was up to Hannibal to try and coax information from her in hopes of solving the case. She was his patient now. His, and only his. 

  When Jonathan Crane first saw her, she was dressed in a cream colored Arkham Asylum patient uniform – which consisted of a pair of sweatpants, a sweatshirt, matching gripped socks, and a white t-shirt underneath – the standard for all the non high risk patients. She was a puzzle, and he wanted to crack her open and reach inside 

to consume 

to taste 

to know.

  Unfortunately, he would have to be sharing her with the BAU as she potentially held vital information to an open case. He watched as the FBI’s chosen psychiatrist stepped into his office. Dr. Hannibal Lecter was a man unlike any he’s ever encountered. Crane was accustomed to being the apex predator within Arkham’s walls, both amongst staff and patients alike. He didn’t like the confidence with which the other psychiatrist paraded himself around the office like he owned the place. Crane especially didn’t like the bold familiarity with which Dr. Lecter approached his favorite patient. It was far too close for Crane’s comfort. She was his and his alone… or so he thought. 

“Hello Jane.” Dr. Crane watched, and listened, as Dr. Lecter interacted with his patient through the security footage. 

“Must you call me that?” she replied. 

“Until we can find out your name, yes I’m afraid I will have to call you that.” He smirked and leaned forward, closing the distance between them and obscuring Jonathan’s view of her from the security camera, positioning himself between her and the camera’s line of sight. 

  What a cocky bastard. Crane thought to himself. He took a sip of his coffee and leaned closer to the monitors to get a better look at their interactions. I wonder what he’s afraid of… Jonathan made a mental note to take some time to customize a batch of fear toxin to use on Dr. Lecter at his earliest convenience. The rest of the session was uneventful to the untrained eye, but Jonathan’s psychiatric expertise compounded with his raging jealousy was causing him to make mountains out of molehills. He spent the remainder of the week visibly distracted as the envy consumed him. He would have to move her to higher security to ensure that any upcoming “sessions” with Dr. Lecter wouldn’t be so cozy. 

  The next time Dr. Lecter met with Jane Doe he had to go past additional security clearances and into a whole other room. This time she was behind a plexiglass window with a phone on the wall, similar to prison visitation. He frowned, surely this was wrong. How could they treat a victim like a prisoner? Like a suspect? The whole objective was to establish rapport and glean insight. How could he when she was now being treated like the people who harmed her? No, this simply wouldn’t do. Hannibal sat down and picked up the phone, his eyes quickly scanning the room to find where the security cameras were situated. 

“Hello again, Miss Doe.” he gave a warm smile and then he leaned in to whisper “I’m going to get you out of here, I promise, but you must do as I tell you.” 

She mouthed a desperate ‘ thank you’ and relaxed her body in relief. 

This only escalated the situation. 

   Hannibal was able to convince Jack Crawford and Co. to plead a case with the Arkham board of directors to reduce security clearance on their Jane Doe. In two weeks he was face to face with the board alongside Dr. Alana Bloom, Dr. Frederick Chilton, and even Jack Crawford himself, all threatening to pursue a transfer closer to Quantico unless they stop treating her as one would a suspect or dangerous patient. Dr. Crane was present at the meeting, and subsequently yielded, only to have her transferred to an entirely new wing of Arkham in a few weeks under the pretense of using alternative treatment methods for her benefit. For months, the two psychiatrists continued to battle for dominance over the case of the Arkham County Jane Doe, to the point that even Freddie Lounds and Vicki Vale caught wind of it. The two journalists began hanging around the asylum trying to interview as many people as possible regarding the situation. Soon it became more than that, writers began flocking in from all over, from the Gotham Gazette to the Daily Planet and even a few true crime youtubers tried to throw their hat into the ring. 

“Why is Arkham Asylum so keen on keeping the FBI out of this case?”

“What is the extent of the BAU’s knowledge on the living Jane Doe?”

“Don’t you think all this back and forth, all this bureaucracy, is just hindering the investigation?” 

“Isn’t this just another dick measuring contest between bureaus to see who can keep the glory?”  

  The two men continued their game of chess – with Jane Doe as their queen, their objective – with laser focus, but alas great minds think alike, and as such it was like trying to fight their own shadow. Both men were incredibly intelligent in more ways than one, and both were more than willing to fight dirty. As their rivalry intensified, so did the cracks, and she knew it would only be a short time before an opportunity presented itself. She was playing them both like a fiddle and not a single person had caught on, not the two doctors in question, nor the rest of the asylum staff, not even the FBI were alerted to her manipulative tactics, and all she had to do was sit back and let them consume each other. All remained on track until the 6th month of her capture, when one of the journalists tried to bribe their way into the asylum. This rang a few alarm bells for Dr. Lecter’s case partner, Will Graham, causing him to confront the doctor with his theory.  

And so Hannibal Lecter set up a very special dinner. 

“What brings you here today Dr. Lecter?” Jonathan Crane tried to feign disinterest, but this was so out of the blue that he couldn’t help his curiosity. He fixed his eyes on the man sitting across from him waiting to catch any minor movements that would aid his understanding of the present situation. Hannibal sat tall in the guest seat in Jonathan’s office, hands folded neatly in his lap, his legs crossed at the ankle below.

“It seems we have a problem.” Hannibal almost purred. 

“We?” replied Crane, raising a brow inquisitively. 

“Yes, it concerns our mutual patient.” Dr Lecter smirked. He let the information sink in and he watched with rapt attention as the mad doctor before him shifted his body from curious, but defensive, to fully alert and open. “I would like to discuss this with you over dinner tonight if that is possible. These walls have ears.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jonathan hummed in agreement. 

  After the journalist’s attempt to break into the asylum, the Arkham County Jane Doe was moved to an extra special cell deep within the bowels of the madhouse. She was given a new set of clothing, bright orange, for the high risk patients. It was for her own safety, they said, but her gut instinct doubted it. The cell was completely padded, it had a bed built into the floor, entirely padded as well, and a small toilet with a minor covering sat in the furthermost corner. It would all be comical if not for the gravity of the situation. She would never escape from here, there wasn’t even a window. An eternity seemed to pass her by in that strange little room before the monotony was broken by the sound of the heavy door being unlocked from the outside. However, she didn’t stir, she remained in the makeshift bed with her back towards the door, she already knew who was about to come in there was no one else it could be. 

“There are very few people within Arkham that even know of this room’s existence.” Said the voice, it was Dr. Crane. “And even fewer still can access it.” 

She could hear the smile in his voice, yet she still refused to turn around. 

“It is a real privilege to be here.” Said a different voice, and this one caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on attention. The voice belonged to none other than Dr. Lecter. This time, she almost feared turning around to greet them. 

The heavy door closed behind them, making a sort of suction sound as it sealed shut. Both men stood in front of the door with their hands behind their back and hungry smiles spread on their lips like wolves overlooking helpless prey. She lay there, frozen, unsure of how to react as she began to hear the men pacing around the room, circling her like vultures. The two were entirely in sync, a stark contrast to the rival dynamic they had for the past 6 months. Their voices blended together into one and they even finish each other’s sentences. A malicious alliance. 

“You know, it takes quite a lot to pull the wool over my eyes…” 

“...but to do that to both of us? That takes serious skill.” 

“We’re impressed darling, really, we are.” 

“That’s exactly why we have decided to give you a choice.”

At this, she finally perked up, sitting at the edge of the bed to finally face her two captors. 

“There’s that lovely face.” Said Jonathan with a cheeky smile. 

“What are my options?” she asked. 

“You can stay here at Arkham, under strict surveillance until the brass solves the case and figures out what to do with you.” Jonathan then turned to look at Hannibal, who spoke without missing a beat. 

“Or you can give us some information, and we will then take care of you… If you wish." His smile was hungry and wolfish. 

“And what must I do to earn your good side?” she asked, there was something missing in this whole equation. “You two wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to offer me this for nothing in return.” 

  The pair of psychiatrists stepped forward, flanking her on each side, each man looking like a mirror image of each other. Both tall, lean, with stark chiseled features and stoic expressions that revealed nothing and everything all at once. Without warning, Hannibal sat down on the bed beside her and pressed his mouth to her throat, worshiping her soft skin with his lips. Jonathan eagerly joined in, resting his head on her shoulder and mirroring the other’s actions on her throat. She gasped in surprise and then straightened her back, lengthening her neck, and leaning into the action as much as her body would allow. She felt a hand grab her inner thigh, pulling her legs apart, while another slipped under the top of her asylum uniform, sliding up her torso and reaching for her tender breast. Her head lolled back and her eyelids fluttered as her skin grew hot. She heard them speak but she could no longer tell who was who, it was as if the three of them were slowly melting into one. 

“We’ve seen how you look at us.” 

“Surely you must’ve been anticipating intimacy with at least one of us.���

“You were going to seduce us, and now we get to seduce you.” 

A rhythm was soon established, set by the frantic beating hearts and breathy wanton moans. The whole room seemed to almost pulsate with energy as the sexual tension was ratcheted up exponentially. The ebb and flow was abruptly stopped by three simple words. 

“I want you.”

Even she was taken aback by the sound of her own voice, let alone her choice of words.

“Which one?” came the reply.

“Both.”

  Neither psychiatrist wasted any time in disrobing their patient, any regard for professionalism or ethics had been left outside this door along with their dignity. In this room, they were all mad. Despite their haste, she felt as if nothing would ever be fast enough to quench this burning desire in her core. Once fully nude she lay back on the bed, eagerly waiting to be taken advantage of. Both men were visibly hungry and hard. Their hands moved on instinct alone as neither could tear their eyes away from the nude figure before them, she captivated their attention like hypnosis, they were powerless in her grasp, she who manipulated them both and preyed upon their competitive jealousy for her own benefit. Freeing his member from his slacks, Hannibal ruthlessly grabbed the back of her head with one hand and his length in the other. She salivated at the sight and wrapped her lips around the head. She could just barely hear him curse beneath his breath in another language. Suddenly, Dr. Crane’s hand grabs onto her hip, pushing her up onto the bed on all fours. Once in position, he got up behind her and spread her thighs, using his hand to guide himself into her from behind. She whimpered against Hannibal’s cock in her mouth as she felt Crane spear her open. The warm ache of being stretched by him simply spurred her on. She slowly widened her jaw, taking Hannibal deep while Crane set a punishing pace. Hannibal gripped a fistful of her hair while Jonathan grabbed onto her hips with both hands. 

  The heavily cushioned room acted as soundproofing, muffling the lewd sounds of flesh against flesh and desperate, animalistic moans as the trio selfishly chased after their own orgasms. The fact that she was fully nude while both men were still clothed made her blush all over. She belonged to them both, and each man stood his claim. Her throat tightened around Hannibal’s cock as she tried to scream. She was utterly overwhelmed, her mounting orgasm causing her to rock back against Jonathan’s hips in search of that sweet release. It didn’t take long before she was seeing stars, but neither man had relented. The overstimulation was beginning to ache and she was reduced to a twitching, whimpering mess. 

“No no,” She heard them say. “You owe us this. You played us, and now it’s our turn to have fun.” 

The sweet torture did not last much longer, and she soon felt Dr. Crane coating her insides with his own release. He shakily bucked against her as he finished, paralyzed by pleasure, he let himself grow soft inside her. Dr. Lecter came soon after, spilling his seed down her throat and holding her head flush against him, forcing her to obediently swallow it all. 

“Good girl.” He gasped. 

“We’ll take good care of you.” Said Jonathan.

“You won’t want for anything.” Added Hannibal. 

She merely nodded in agreement, accepting whatever terms as long as it meant safety and pleasure in their arms. 

Ao3 || Guidelines || WiPs || Ko-Fi

[howbrightthemoon]

as we expected, EPISODE 5 WAS BRILLIANT

we're REALLLLYYY kicking off things in part 2 huh

SPOILERS BELOW proceed with caution

The intimate scene: we get a love scene not even half way through the episode and it is....SO beautiful, and I genuinely stopped breathing and couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the episode

there's lots of giggles throughout the whole scene because it's Pen's first time, there's check ins, double checks on consent...but Pen isn't totally clueless, she WANTS to touch him but just doesn't know how...and the way he guides her....and the way he makes her feel comfortable first with the ol carriage fingers before asking if she's ready AGHEHREWKENKFJNEWHR

and the way they slowly reveal their bodies to each other....my god it is just incredibly sensual and romantic, he really takes his time undressing her and savoring her, while he really takes his time letting her see all of him (and I mean ALL. OF. HIM.).

they start off slow...but again Penelope is like LETS FUCKING GO and she's giving him the 'fuck me' eyes and he's legit losing himself and honestly, they're both REALLLLYYY getting into it, BOTH. Not only is there the focus on Pen's pleasure, but Colin's too. I think because it's important to show the difference in his sexual encounters at the brothel versus with someone he loves. LN was seriously giving his all in this scene, I was not expecting to see an O face but yeah, he did thaattt

Whistledown mentions: Nicola does an amazing job at portraying the sheer anxiety she feels over this massive secret she's hiding. Now she's part of the Bridgerton family, she has to see Eloise more often and just SEEING Eloise makes her panic. Not even with the 'you have to tell him before midnight' thing, but every time they're in the same room, Pen just loses it. The way she shows how her anxiety builds and BUILDS throughout this episode is so scarily accurate, I really felt for her, poor girl was just trying to enjoy her fiancees engagement speech and Eloise just had to butt in and start ruining the whole night for her.

Cressida's motivations: girl, I get it. I'm sorry she's reverting back to her old cunning ways, but...man no one in that drawing room was listening to her...she had to say something. Can you imagine being in her position? i'd lie that I was whistledown too lol, girl, I get it. It's ELOISE that I'm honestly fed up with in this episode.

ANTHONY BRIDGERTON: Last thing, I wanna shoutout Jonathan's acting in this episode. The way I am so convinced that Anthony is absolutely overjoyed at the fact that he's going to become a father soon, and he plays that joy into every single scene he's in. I could see so much of that playful competitive big brother vibe from season 2 (especially in the charades scene, which reminded me of pall mall s2) from him in this episode, I loved it.

anyways rant over, I am seated for the release of all four episodes later today and you best believe I'm binge watching it

p.s. I just wanna say....Nicola was not kidding when she said she was going to show everything on camera....girl, you are absolutely gorgeous

[cptindanvers]

you (remastered)

summary: y/n is best friends with nancy wheeler and barbara holland. but after her boyfriend, steve cheats on her with nancy and barb disappears, y/n becomes best friends with jonathan byers and helps save hawkins from the evil that lies beneath its surface.

word count; 1,837

set in season one, platonic! jonathan byers x reader

warnings; angsty

It took four "no"s for them to finally mean something to Steve when he asked (more like begged) you to come to the small party he was having. Steve had a record of taking advantage of his parents' frequent absences but they usually only induced your presence in his room.

You had planned on attending, initially. But when a headache formed and only intensified throughout the day, you were positive that another minute of being around Tommy and Carol would drive you clinically insane.

Frequently, different versions of how your life could've gone run through your mind. What if you'd gone? Would you and Steve be together still? Would you still have your two best friends?

You figured Steve was annoyed with you for really not showing up last night - he hadn't picked you up, hadn't waited by your locker. It would've worried you if you weren't so aware of how people's eyes hooked onto you, questions evident over their heads as they wondered why your famous boyfriend wasn't by your side.

You're starting to get really pissed off by the time the last bell rings. Steve isn't standing by the door of your last class like he usually is, ready to kiss you in the middle of the hallway without a care in the world. He doesn't take your things to your locker or carry your bag to his car, ready to take you anywhere you want to go - at least, for a while.

It's chilly once you get out to the parking lot. Maybe a walk in the finger-numbing air will help clear your mind.

You're only a few steps in before you recognize your boyfriend's side profile, threateningly looming over someone else. It doesn't take long to identify Tommy, Carol, and... Jonathan Byers.

Steve wasn't one to take things that far. He still had a reputation to maintain, both at school and with his parents. But you watched as he tore up photographs and dangled Jonathan's camera carelessly in his hands.

You've rerouted yourself, feet taking you in their direction without your brain approving the request first.

Usually, you'd stay out of it but if Steve was already ignoring you then there wasn't much else for you to lose.

And maybe you were a little exhausted, too. Perhaps you'd spent far too long being nothing more than a bystander, guilt and shame bubbling up until you've finally reached your limit.

Jonathan Byers had already lost his younger brother - he really didn’t need this.

"What's going on?" You ask to no one in particular.

"None of your business," Tommy retorts immediately.

You glance at your boyfriend expectedly - but he just shakes his head.

“Just get inside, alright? I’ll catch up with you.” Steve places his hand on your shoulder, attempting to direct you away.

It's useless - especially once you spot the photos you watched Steve tear up. Ones of your best friend undressed in his room.

You pick up one of the crudely ripped pieces from the ground, breaking out of Steve's loose grasp and stepping closer to Jonathan, fury in your eyes.

"What the hell is this?"

Jonathan's eyes jumped from you to the photo to Steve. He saw the anger in Steve's eyes but, under the tightly drawn brows, there was something else. Something in his eyes was pleading.

Jonathan averted his eyes as if it'd save him, looking at the ground as he made his choice.

"Nancy was undressing in Steve’s room last night.”

As soon as those words came from Jonathan’s mouth, his camera paid the price, glass smashing as soon as the device hit the ground.

"It's not what you th-" Steve steps closer from behind you, after the camera has left his grasp. Priorities, right?

Before he could even try to lie his way out of things, you turn sharply, your hand coming up to slap him before you could even think a rational thought.

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” You say, picking up the pieces of the ripped pictures. You weren’t sure why you decided to keep them. Proof? Revenge?

“Come on,” You begin, taking Jonathan’s hand and walking away, knowing he would be dealing with much worse than a broken camera if you left him.

You hadn't even gotten ten steps of distance before a painfully familiar voice caught your attention.

“What’s going on?”

Your head snapped to the right only to see Nancy standing there, wide-eyed and nervous.

Your anger hasn't mellowed but people are beginning to slow in their steps and turn their heads.

“I really can’t believe you, Nancy," you say quietly.

You drag Jonathan along, leaving Nancy behind with tears slipping down her cheeks.

⁂

You're not sure what you were thinking, pulling Jonathan out of there with you. You'd wanted to avoid a scene, for sure, and you didn't know what Jonathan's confession would entail for him other than punches.

"I'm sorry," you begin, words spewing out before you can control them. "For the camera. For letting them treat you like that. Not just today, for all the days."

Tears are beginning to well in your eyes and you turn away from Jonathan. Too many emotions are begging for an outlet, mainly shame and embarrassment. But the hurt is threatening to start seeping in soon now, too.

You try to focus on your breathing, on anything other than your own self-pity.

Jonathan surprises you with a cautious hand on your shoulder, as if he was scared to touch you. "Would you, um... do you want a ride home?"

⁂

"Jonathan, I need your help."

It'd been a few days after the incident with his camera and Jonathan giving you a ride home. You'd expected it to be much more awkward than it initially was - but eventually, the two of you began talking. About what Jonathan had been doing that night, about the hunt for Will, about Barb.

Perhaps that was another big source of your anger towards Steve and Nancy. Apart from the intoxicated infidelity, wasn't it their fault Barb was missing?

"Yeah?"

"Well, I... okay, this is gonna sound stupid, but listen..." There's not much of a defense you can build for yourself considering how crazy you sound - especially saying it all out loud. But you try to explain yourself, try to explain the faceless, humanoid figure you saw around Steve's house when you went looking for her the day prior - and its resemblance to a strange figure in the corner of one of the photographs Steve had ripped up.

“I know it sounds crazy.” You say, eyes looking into Jonathan’s, pleading for him to believe you.

“Yeah, it does," Jonathan nods and your heart sinks. "But I trust you." He places a hand on your shoulder, comforting you once again.

⁂

After figuring out that thing you saw had also been spotted by Jonathan’s mom, you two decided you two better learn some self-defense, just in case.

So, Jonathan taught you how to shoot a gun.

⁂

After coming back from the strange dimension in Mirkwood, you asked Jonathan to stay with you. This whole thing was beginning to get to you - other-worldly places, monsters, kidnappings. Honestly? You were terrified, and sitting alone in an empty room wouldn't do you any favors.

Jonathan gave in eventually, knowing he wouldn't be able to stand sleeping alone, either.

Having someone else in the room soothed you, enough to eventually fall asleep - even if the lights stayed on.

⁂

Whatever this monster-thing was, it was attracted to blood.

Well, it was a working theory. Jonathan had noticed Barb holding her hand like she'd injured it and, although it wasn't much to go off of, it'd do for now.

Perhaps the two of you were in over your heads but you and Jonathan had made your decision - you were going to kill that things.

Jonathan drove you two over to the gun supply store. Somewhere along the way, you began laughing.

"What?" Jonathan asked and, although he was clueless as to what was causing your amusement, he was smiling.

"Nothing," you shake your head. "It's just..." You turn to face him, even if his attention is on getting all your purchases into the trunk of his car. "A week ago. Not even. Two completely different worlds, right?"

Jonathan closes his trunk. "And now you get to suffer the consequences."

You furrow your brows.

Jonathan shrugs. "People talk."

Before you can respond, a loud honk catches both of your attention.

“Hey, freaks! Can’t wait to see your movie!” Someone calls before driving off. 

“What was that?” Jonathan asked, obviously confused.

But you knew. 

Steve had tried to call you and asked you to the movies to “start over”. You never picked up the phone, but you heard the voicemail.

Jonathan’s confusion only grew as you took off, a walk turning into a run as you stood outside the movie theater, Jonathan attempting to keep up. The both of you stared at the new addition to the Now Showing picture - both your names, spraypainted in red.

You knew your reputation had taken a turn once you'd broken up with Steve - it was inevitable, really. Your popularity really only was thanks to Steve. But it'd nose-dived instead of tapered off when you'd started hanging around Jonathan.

It wasn't like you didn't hear what everyone whispered, but you could usually shut it down with a look or with the truth, albeit put harshly. Depended on who was asking.

Laughter floated from the alley beside the theater. You turn into the alley, facing Steve, Carol, Tommy, and the other girl whose name you never bothered learning. 

“Oh, here comes the freak couple!” Carol taunted, making kissing sounds as you stop in front of Steve.

“What the hell, Steve?” Your arms cross in front of your chest. You're on edge. Defensive. So many months together and this is how he's gonna do things?

“Well, it’s obvious you two are a thing,” Steve replied casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“What? So you can sleep with Nancy but I can’t hang out with Jonathan?"

“Oh, it's Jonathan now. So, what was Jonathan doing in your room?”

The question makes you falter - usually, when you're with Jonathan, it's out. Never at your house. Except...

You scoff. “Were you spying on me?”

“Answer the question.”

“We were- I just-” You shook your head, finding it difficult to explain that the only reason Jonathan had slept in your room was because entering another, very slimey and dark dimension had terrified you.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Steve scoffed, crossing his arms.

It's not worth it. You shouldn't have to explain yourself in the first place. Steve's upset you never called back but he was the one who fucked up. Not you.

“Come on,” You say, grabbing Jonathan’s hand and walking away for the second time that week.

“You know, Byers, you’re a screw-up, just like the rest of your family. Honestly, I’m not surprised that Will is dead. I mean, nobody misses him anyway-” Steve started, shoving Jonathan repeatedly. Steve quickly shut up when Jonathan’s fist met his face.

“Jonathan, stop!” You yell, trying to pull him off Steve while simultaneously trying to avoid getting hit.

The fistfight finally ended when the cops showed up, arresting Jonathan while you put your face in your hands in shame and frustration.

⁂

You found yourself at Hawkins Middle. You weren't sure exactly what you were doing there, something about a girl and a pool you needed to fill with salt. You were still a little confused and even more lost as to why Nancy was there. You're sure it had something to do with Mike.

Everyone was sat around the girl, El, as she floated in an inflatable pool in the middle of the school gym. She had been voicing almost everything she saw, trying to find Barbara and Will. Everyone hung on to her words, tension and anticipation hanging in the air.

“Barb…dead.”

Blood rushed in your ears as the weight that had been sitting in your chest for days began to ache. Your throat tightened and god, you couldn't breathe.

Your feet take you outside and your body folds over, hands on your knees as you try to breathe.

It feels like forever before your strangled gasps become shakey breaths and you barely register the opening of the door behind you.

Nancy's here and your resolve breaks.

Somehow, your arms find each other. Somehow, you manage not to blame her.

There was no time for tears. Nancy's eyes were full of fury once the two of you managed to pull away.

“Let’s kill that son of a bitch.”

⁂

There was a knock at the door almost immediately after you all bandaged your bleeding hands. You stuck your head out, careful to not let whoever knocked see the traps and light inside the Byers home.

“Jonathan-" Steve's presence makes your eyes widen. God, you should've made Jonathan answer it. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Something about the scene bothers him sincerely.

"Steve, you should leave," you say seriously.

Steve shakes his head and any annoyance off. "No, no. Look, I- I messed up, alright? I need to apologize.”

“No, Steve, you seriously-” You're cut off by Steve reaching for your hand - the one you'd just sliced open. Shit.

“What happened to your hand? Did Jonathan do that to you? I swear if he hurt you-”

There was no stopping Steve at that point. He managed his way inside despite your insistence, his brows furrowing at all the Christmas lights.

“What the hell is going on here?” Steve yelled, looking around in utter confusion.

Desperation was beginning to consume you - at the end of the day, you didn't want Steve involved in this. You wanted him far, far away.

“Steve.” You say steadily, picking up Lonnie’s gun and pointing it at him. “You need to leave.”

“What the hell?" Steve shouts, scared by your strange behavior. "Put that thing down! Look-”

Nancy calls your name, motioning to the flickering lights, but your attention is stuck on Steve. On making him go.

“Steve! Get out!”

Jonathan yells your name, finally grabbing your attention. “Look!”

Your head snaps, noticing the lights flickering around you.

“Shit.”

⁂

After a lot of initial screaming from Steve, the four of you had done a considerable amount of damage to it before it disappeared.

Now, Jonathan, Nancy, and you had to explain what was going on to a very overwhelmed Steve while heading back to meet with everyone else.

Most of the slack had fallen on you, naturally. It was strange, you and Steve in his car like before, only this time you were stuck having a conversation you couldn't conjure up in your wildest dreams.

"So- so that thing-"

"Demo-something. It's from... it's from a game the kids play."

"That thing is what took Barb and Will?"

"It, um, likes blood. Which is why..." you gesture to the bandaid around your hand.

"And- and Christmas lights?"

"Look, I don't really get it either-"

"No, no," Steve shakes his head. He's quiet as he pulls into a spot at Hawkins Middle but he doesn't move after putting his car into park. "I'm sorry."

It's silent as you try to find the right words to say. With everything happening, you really haven't given Steve much though. You hadn't had a chance to work through your anger or to think of something witty to say in this exact situation.

But you're still angry. Very angry.

"Just forget it, Steve."

"No, I want to apologize-"

"Just forget it. We were never gonna work out, right?"

You don't spare him a glance as you get out of the car. You have bigger things to worry about right now.

⁂

It didn't take very long for you to forgive - Nancy, at least. Drunken mistakes aside, she had never tried to go after Steve before. Plus, you think the two of you needed each other right now.

It was early December when she asked you for permission to pursue him, officially.

"It’s completely alright if you don’t want me to, we just started being friends again and-”

“Nance, it’s okay, really. You two were both drunk and you both apologized. If you like him and he likes you, then who am I to stop you?”

She gave you a big hug after that, but you couldn’t help the tug in your chest.

⁂

“You ready to go?” You asked Jonathan as he climbed back into his car, escaping the harsh December winds.

“Yeah,” Jonathan replied, turning to you. “She kissed me on the cheek.” He said, a small smile spreading on his face.

“Woah there, Byers. Aren’t you moving a bit too fast?”

Jonathan chuckled, lightly punching you on the arm. “Yeah, she’s dating your ex, but hey, a guy can dream. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You and Steve?” Jonathan asked, his smile turning into a smirk.

“Steve cheated on me.” You retort, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, well, you can dream, can’t you?”

The two of you laughed, a comfortable silence filling the car.

“Hey, why don’t you stay for dinner? Mom always cooks enough to feed an army.” Jonathan asks as you pull into his driveway.

The offer takes you by surprise. Perhaps you'd thought that once all of that was over, your friendship with Jonathan would be, too. “Oh, no, I couldn’t.”

“Come on, spend time with your favorite Byers?” Jonatha smiles, leaning over to open your door. It was really a nicer way of saying I know you don't have anything better to do - except maybe wallow.

“Fine!” You sigh dramatically, getting out of the car.

“You know you love me.” Jonathan nudges your shoulder, a grin matching yours on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever," You shake your head.

Despite everything the two of you had lost, at the very least you'd gotten each other.

⁂

masterlist / read part 2 here! / read part 3 here!

remastered, reworked... happy almost 5 years to this fic! if you'd like, you can read the original here, though i advise against it!

(p.s. part three is coming)

[stevie-petey]

Can we get a blurb where Steve gets like really jealous?

Idk personally I’m a sucker for angst and jealousy and pining

anon i love ur lil brain yes of course we can get some jealou steve, especially when he doesnt even have a clue hes jealous LMAO

enjoy <3

"you guys are really close, huh?" steve sometimes forgets just how intertwined jonathan is within your life.

the photo of the two of you, smiling at the camera with jonathans arms wrapped around you as if you were made to fit within them, stares back at steve. theres something different in your smile, a certain glow to you that he has long since come to associate with jonathan.

you light up around the boy, genuinely and truly happy whenever hes around, more than steves ever seen you with anyone else.

jonathan byers is your person, and steve forgets how poignant the reminder can be.

he wonders if one day he'll ever be the reason you smile so widely at a camera with nothing but pure adoration in your eyes. he hopes one day he can be, but luck has never been on steves side.

he never seems to get what he wants, in the end.

there are other little reminders of your relationship with jonathan scattered throughout your room. steve can see a jacket draped over the back of your desk chair, one far too big and worn to be yours. there are more photos on your dresser, some of just jonathan or others with you, jonathan, and your brothers all laughing together. theres a framed drawing on your desk, with a a bunch of tiny figures fighting off a dragon, and something tells steve that dustin isnt really an artist and that somehow, he knows its will who has drawn this for you.

steves eyes flicker back towards you and and there, resting delicately upon your neck, he sees a small pendant of a bee. steve, ever since you started wearing it, knows that this is your way of proudly displaying your love for the boy.

wholly and unabashedly.

something stings within steve, then. seeing how unashamed with your love for others, how much of it you give out so freely.

hes always known you love jonathan and that your love for him is like no other, but seeing it so proudly displayed leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

he wishes someone loved him like that.

he wishes you loved him like that. without any hesitancy involved, without any unsaid truths and disguised lies.

steve wishes, more than anything else, that one day he'll be able to finally know who you are. to see in between your lines, to have you wearing something of his, to one day crawl through your window and know that hes coming home.

for now, steve grabs the pillows and blankets and makes a bed out of the bean bag hes been given. he knows, once the two of you go to bed, that he'll have to finally confront you about it all.

he just hopes he doesnt fuck it all up with you again.

[estrellami-1]

So that bit where Steve rips I to Murray about outing his loved ones and pushing Nancy to cheat on him...

Have you considered (yes, I just realized it was part of the initial ask, but I've been dwelling on this for years, man): Not only does Joyce find out that Jonathan helped Nancy cheat on the boyfriend he DEFINITELY knew about, but she also just found out about the photos through Steve's upstairs bedroom window. Photos that could not ever be claimed as accidental. Now, Joyce has been holding a bit of a grudge against Steve since he broke her boy's camera. Jonathan only told her that Steve Harrington got pissed off and busted it, not why. And then Steve went and fought with Jon and her son got arrested while that rich boy got off scott free. That just reinforced her grudge, especially considering the stress she was already under at the time. But then she finds out it wasn't just Steve being a bitchy popular jock, but that her boy was also being a creepy dick. And she recalls that Steve not only apologized for breaking his camera, but that he replaced it, too.

Enjoy! Also @zerokrox-blog hope this answers your prompt :)

Jonathan’s been scared of his mom before, for good reasons: when he was seven and broke a vase after she’d told him to stop running in the house, at eleven when he lied about his grades, at fifteen when he snuck out for the first (and only) time.

Every time she gets really mad at him, she gets quiet.

She’s been silent for a solid ten minutes. The only words she’d spoken had been to Murray, to tell him to leave. She’d been quiet then, too, then just stayed silent.

“So here’s what I thought the story was,” she starts, and Jonathan wants to dig a hole to China and bury himself. “I thought Nancy and Steve had broken up, then you and she had gotten together. I thought he broke your camera because he got mad at you for who-knows-what. I thought he fought you, antagonized you, until you couldn’t hold back anymore. I thought I knew you. I thought I knew the son, the man, I raised, would never sleep with a taken woman. Would never hide in the bushes and take pictures of someone else’s property or body. And to think she’d been half-naked…” Joyce shakes her head, leans back in her chair. Considers the knife still clutched in her hand and very carefully places it down next to her plate. “To think that I thought he’d been acting like Lonnie. Worse than Lonnie, even, which maybe wasn’t a fair comparison for a teenager, but I thought I knew my son.” She shakes her head again, stands, picks up her plate and silverware. Doesn’t look at Jonathan when she says, “I was partially right. Someone was acting like Lonnie. It just wasn’t who I’d originally thought. And to think I held onto a grudge against him for years.” She purses her lips, steps back from the table. Whispers the next line. “You need to think very, very carefully about your next move. I don’t know if Steve’s forgiven you. If I were him, I don’t know that I would.” She steps back again. “While you think about it… well. Forgive me if I need some time to think about it too. After all, you also lied to me.” She tilts her head in thought. “If memory serves, he replaced the camera he smashed. I feel that bears remembering when you think about what to do.” With that, she turns and makes her way to the kitchen.

And Jonathan? He feels about as small as a gnat. Even smaller. Nancy’s trembling next to him, hand over her mouth, and he’s not sure he should reach out. He’s not sure she’d want him to; not sure he wants to. He does, though, grazes the back of her hand with a fingertip. She chokes, looking at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, and he helps her up, helps her out the front door and into his car, gets in and starts driving without thinking about it first.

He realizes most of the way there that he was driving to the Wheelers’. Walks inside with Nancy when they get there, all the way up to her room. Silent.

“We need to talk,” Nancy says, and Jonathan nods even as he feels like the rug’s been yanked out from under his feet.

Fighting monsters was easy compared to this.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

tagged by @thesingularityseries thank you <3

so I've started working on the British Gangster AU for Rory and TF141, very much in the vein of Guy Ritchie/Quentin Tarantino - told in a weird timeline format, lots of hopping between character POVs, etc.

snippet gets kind of long (sorry) and is still VERY rough. Also, the MI5 officers are absolutely written to basically be Statham and Vinnie Jones... so yeah...

warning for mentions of violence and criminal activities

Thames House, MI5 Headquarters, London, UK

It's not the first time Rory Sinclair has found herself inside an interrogation room, it's certainly the first time she's been the one to be questioned however…

Hazel eyes roam around the room. It’s the same sterile grey they always are, a mirror on the wall she knows the camera is set up on the other side of recording her, cheap mic on the table picking up audio, the uncomfortable metal chairs the authorities will keep a person chained to as if they lost all rights the moment they walked through the door. 

And before her are two carbon copied hardboiled officers: matching ill-fitting suits, close-cropped shaved heads, five o’clock shadows, and appearing as though they’ve both broken and have had their noses broken several times over. 

Manicured nails tap against the table top, french tips clicking against fake wood laminate. One leg crossed over the other as her foot bounces in time to a tune on replay in her head to keep herself occupied. One way or another... Fixing the way her coat sits to keep out the cool air from the AC they've clearly turned up to make her less comfortable and therefore more willing to talk. Focus lazily swinging from one officer to the other like a pendulum. 

Uninterested. 

Apathetic. 

She yawns as a set of files is tossed in front of her, skidding across the table, covers falling open, and before her sits the faces of four men.

The two officers sitting across from her put on their best good cop, bad cop performance as they give her the stare down - except one of them forgot to play soft.  Arms crossed, sullen faces, tight jaws. 

Real hardasses. 

“Miss Sinclair, it's in your best interest to realize that your choice of career puts you in direct contact with some less than savoury individuals,” the first officer husks. “These four especially, been keeping tabs on them for some time now. Drugs, weapons, illegal gambling, murder – all in a day's work for the 141, eh?”

She offers no reaction at all, there wasn’t a rap sheet in the world that could surprise her anymore. Her career was built on representing individuals with longer lists of crimes than that. Her stoneface response clearly isn’t the reaction the authorities were hoping for with the way they lean in towards her, cutting into her personal space, black tea on their breath permeating the air.  

“Ever heard of ‘em, love?”

Rory leans back in her seat, hands sliding into her lap as her heel continues its monotonous motion. “Can't say that I have, no.” 

“Then permit us to inform you, miss.” 

The larger brute of an officer thrusts his finger towards the first picture, a ragged, roughly bitten nail pointing to a stocky man with a steely gaze, mutton chops, and a neck tattoo. “This ‘ere's the leader. Goes by ‘The Captain’ – Jonathan Price.” 

Price

“Been at this since the age of sixteen…” 

The warehouse sits quiet, still, and dark. Water-stained windows, milky and clouded, creak and rattle with the ocean air from the nearby harbour. The giant factory doors open with a squeal, and the silhouetted forms of four inky figures stand there in the night as a body hung from the rafters by chains swings to and fro, murmuring from behind a strip of duct tape. The night is foggy, and the wisps of vapour crawl into the abandoned building. Shafts of light that beam in through the holes in the corrugated metal roofing cut shadows across the faces of the visitors in tailored suits, long overcoats, and leather shoes. 

Silent surroundings are broken by the tapping of soles on concrete and the rasp of a match being lit as it’s held up to the recently snipped end of a Villa Clara cigar, sparking it to life with a burning orange glow. A heavy plume of smoke is blown out, swirling and thick as it trails up towards the worn openings above – the only thing allowed to escape the oppressive stare of sharp blue eyes. 

Tape is ripped from the mouth of the man swinging idly from the chains that bind him, mouth left raw and red as adhesive is torn away from skin and stubble.  

“Where did you think you were, York?” he whispers hoarsely around the stub of his cigar as he stands before the hanged man, arms crossed over his chest. There’s no need to raise his voice – his figure, his name, is intimidating enough. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, Price.” The hanged man huffs out a nervous laugh, pleading with someone who he knows off reputation alone is merciless. “Don’t know how the bastards in London handle things, but Liverpool – this is my city, yeah?” “Course it is, innit.” 

If York had hands available to hold up in surrender he would. Waving the white flag in the presence of the head of England’s most powerful gang in a heartbeat. It was rare for a person to be given the opportunity to meet with Price in person and it usually wasn’t for good reason. He had people to handle these sorts of things, and more important matters to attend to. But, sometimes, a person needed reminding of just who sat at the top and how much power he wields. Power that he ruthlessly holds onto. Whether it's the Irish, the Russians, or the cartels who try to step into his territory, he offers no leeway, never an inch spared. This is his territory, a hunting ground he worked his way up to the top to attain and he won’t let that slip through his fingers for love nor money.

He says nothing more on the matter as cold, unreadable eyes look up at his prey from under a heavy brow. John doesn’t see the point in wasting his words or his breath when it's no longer necessary. His point has been made well known, and the body – when it’s found – will take care of the rest.

With another puff of smoke released, he slinks back into the shadows, Gaz at his right hand, leaving his two guard dogs to handle the rest. He can trust them to handle matters properly with little oversight. His Lieutenant, Riley, has no trouble keeping MacTavish on a leash.

cod taglist [opt in/out]

@imogenkol @efingart @confidentandgood @imagoddamnonionmason @hatters-sister

@grimmylover7 @alypink @roofgeese @theelderhazelnut @harmonyowl

@g0dspeeed @loverofeverything41438 @simplegenius042 @voidika @strangefable

@kyberinfinitygems @direwombat @la-grosse-patate @josephseedismyfather @statichvm

@clicheantagonist @tommyarashikage @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @raresvtm

@cloudofbutterflies92 @justasmolbard @finding-comfort-in-rain @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa

@writeforfandoms

[angelthemanspanker]

I can't believe of all the magic gimmick episodes to make a mess of that BTVS managed to fuck up a time loop. A Buffy time loop episode should be the stuff of legend up there with The No Talky One and The Singy One but no. Life Serial time loop I'm sorry but you're nothing to me. Buffyverse magic is always vaguely defined and the rules change by the episode but the time loop spell Jonathan put on Buffy is so underexplained and overpowered that it severely takes me out of the scene

No one else in the shop but Buffy is aware that they're looping or time passing so is the spell just sending Buffy back in time and no one else? But then how can the Trio watch what's going on with the Magic Box cameras in real time with Buffy/the audience. Are they also looping? Does Jonathan's spell reset time for literally everyone except the three of them and Buffy? Because that means Jonathan, by means of magic bone, is repeatedly sending the entire world back a few minutes, keeping the memories of him, the other casters, and the target intact, until a completely arbitrary task decided by Jonathan is accomplished by Buffy.

Does that mean the awkward customer was part of the spell? Because satisfying an annoying customer was the task Jonathan set out for Buffy, did he just know that lady would be difficult? Did they just wait until a difficult customer showed up and bother Buffy to start the loop? What if none did? Is she a physical illusion or a magic homunculus being difficult under Jonathan's direction? Is she a real person playing out his script under mind control? Because unless it's the contrived coincidence option that's a lot of continuous magic to keep up while also maintaining the time loop, all with what seemed like a damn easy spell.

Why don't we know that spell? Casters' and target's memories unaffected, why didn't the gang cast it on Buffy before The Gift and make the loop breaking condition being defeating Glory without any Scoobies dying? We fail, oh well, try again. We know it doesn't need to be fixed on a room bc it covered the Magic Box and the Nerdmobile (even though trying to leave the shop just reset the loop for Buffy bc this spell just does fucking everything I guess). We know any damage done gets reset bc Buffy broke Giles' glasses and the doorbell and they were fine after a loop so no worries about racking up injuries or wasting the Dagon Sphere. And sure if Jonathan can do it, he of the only reasonably impressive abilities, then experienced Giles or Tara or especially Willow should have no problem whatsoever. And all this for one scene.

Life Serial time loop spell you are my enemy.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

You know what? Steve is the kind of guy who'd want to travel. Sure, Hawkins will always be his home, and it's not like he can't come back to visit the kids. One of the things the kids want for him, especially with Dustin, is to do what makes him happy. His "family vacations" always felt like obligations, but he wanted a less nuclear family option. . .one where all parties involved are truly happy. After a certain amount of time to process what happened with the party. . . With Hawkins, after they save the world, he buys an RV after selling his parents' house.

Nancy doesn't want a loveless marriage or one of convenience. She wants to help people. She wants to tell their story. A good way of doing that is being a reporter, and sometimes, reporters travel. . .and what's one way of traveling? In an RV, of course. The answer to what they were had hung in the air because she hadn't been sure. She wanted Steve, but she also still wanted Jonathan. She showed up at his RV anyway, a question on her lips.

Jonathan struggled after what happened, after all of it, to find what he truly loved again. He thought he could focus on his family, and that would be good enough, but he missed what he loved. He missed photography. Maybe it was seeing Steve in a whole new light, seeing Nancy laughing with him or seeing his mom happy with Hopper. Maybe it was the fact that they almost lost Max. They almost lost each other. Jonathan spent so much time taking care of his family. What he had wanted had been pushed to the back of his mind. All of a sudden, Jonathan was showing up to the RV, just behind Nancy. His camera was around his neck, and a bag was in his hand.

"Room for one more?" He would asked.

"Definitely," Steve said, grabbing his hand.

Nancy's grinning brightly as she throws her bag down with Jonathan's. Suddenly, they're on the road. They're meeting people. They're listening to their stories. They're seeing what the world has to offer, and it's beautiful. Of course, they also have adventures. . .helping people who need it the most. They cause trouble and revel in it. Steve complains but still follows Nancy anyway, while Jonathan laughs and does the same. This is the adventure they've chosen. Jonathan is capturing it all on his camera. Maybe on their way back to Hawkins, maybe they find this town or this city. . .maybe they settle down. . .they find a home for all three of them. Steve discovers what else he wants from life. . .helping kids. Maybe the three of them have kids, or maybe they don't. . .the choice is theirs, and they'll make it whenever they're ready.

[georgiapeach30513]

Underneath the City Lights, Part 2

Summary:  Ari has some questions and a plan

Pairings:  Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, forced dancing, non con groping and sucking, choking, fingering, voyeurism, conspiracy, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  3.3K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

“Ari, what are you thinking?” Ari’s piercing blue eyes look out the window of his office, and over the city.  The distant neon glow of the Dirty Martini clouding anything that he should be thinking.  You had grown up, and it appeared that you were being used as a pawn by your own brother.

Your father had been a kind and just man.  Ran a respectable establishment, and now it seemed the Dirty Martini was more seedy.  Gossip of how it was just a cover for peddling more than just burlesque entertainment.  The business in flesh wasn’t anything new, but would your brother actually offer up your own body for the right amount?

“Ari?” Jonathan asks again.  His boss had become more and more distant with his thoughts.  “You’re taking her claims seriously.”

“Why would a brother send his sister into my room where she was wearing fabric that left nothing to the imagination?  Cameras pointed right at the chair I was sitting in to ‘protect her’ or was it to sell more than just her body?  He didn’t care to have her fully exposed to me.  And on display for whoever was watching.”

“Yes, the city knows you are the most fierce mafia boss since your great grandfather.  The sight of your silhouette causes fear.  He knows better than to let a video of you out of some woman’s cunt was soaking your pants.”

“I’m not worried about that video getting out.  I’m worried about a brother selling his sister for the right price.  Her grandfather was my father’s advisor.  You realize that, right?” Ari shakes his head, still unbelieving of how your family had fallen so far.  Your family was once feared, and now they were selling lust.  

“She knows something.  Look at their accounts.  They’re passed due.  They’re desperate.  Why wouldn’t they try and take from the hand that feeds them?  And fucking August Walker.  Pig.  How many dropped soliciting charges does he have?  Calvin would sell his sister to make a buck, and get them out of debt with me.  This is trouble for us.  But she also needs protecting.”

“Well, you’ve been invited back again tonight.  The diamond has a grand performance just for you.  So says this August Walker.”

“I want the place surrounded.  I won’t be moving tonight, but I’m going to see if I can get any information out of her.  She’s an asset.  And our teams can formulate the best way to get her out of the club undetected.”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact she’s got a beautiful voice, and even prettier face?  Judging by the state of your pants, and quick departure to the shower you thoroughly enjoyed your time with her,” Ari smirks, adjusting his jacket before he leaves without another word.  He always was a softie for a damsel in distress.  Especially ones he felt familial loyalty to.

“Hmm,” Calvin asks, studying the footage from last night.  He had seen Ari intently watching you while you performed, but your private audience solidified his affections.  Ari, the most feared man in the city, was entranced by you.  He looks away from the screen when Ari’s mouth surrounds your nipple.  It was an image he couldn’t get out of his head, but if it meant that Ari had a distraction, it would be okay.  “What state was he in when he left?”

“You mean the huge hard on he couldn’t disguise with your sister’s juices spewed on his pants?”

“Can you not talk about my sister like that?”

“You’re the one that put her up on stage.  The one who knew exactly what Ari would want.  She’s got him wrapped around her little finger.  Imagine, Ari the man we’re trying to take everything from, wrapped around the pinky of your baby sister,” August leans back in the chair, wondering just how long it would take to have Ari completely spent by you.

“A baby sister that I control.  This is too good.  Whatever you did that night, we need a repeat.”

“No.  We need grander.  Ari needs to feel possessive and jealous that other men are staring at her tits, vying for her attention, and willing to pay for her pussy.”

“And she needs to understand who is in control,” his hand rubs over his chin as he thinks.  It was the perfect option for you to realize exactly where you stood in this operation.  You were nothing.  “Put up the cage.  Make sure she remembers that she is but our little bird.  She’s there for entertainment, and for everyone to gawk at.  Women need to want to be her, and men need to want to sink into her and own her.  And if her cunt can keep Ari occupied, and we make more money in the process, it’s exactly what we’ll do.”

“You’re a sick fuck you know that?” August stands, it was time to get you ready.  He knew the perfect costume.  The perfect way to show off your curves.

“Yeah, well, keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll be able to feel her flesh around you.”

“Aye aye, captain,” he wipes off his mouth, heading to your dressing room where he could already hear you protesting.  It was always the same.  A little brat that needs to be punished for her stubbornness. In time.  He would get to it.  In time.

Slinging the door open you take one look at him before throwing a vase of fresh flowers towards his head, and he glowers at you.  Wiping the water off his face before starting towards you, “Go away!” You scream, but he doesn’t react.  He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.

“Don’t touch me!” Grabbing at your wrist, he pulls you closer to his body.  His free hand pulling aside your robe.  Getting a peak at the swell of your chest, “You pig!” You spit up at him, and he wipes your saliva off his face as well.  The hand around your wrist moving to your throat, and he backs you up to the wall.

A thick thigh going in between your thighs, “August, please, stop.”

“How quickly your tune changed, princess.  So sure into groveling for mercy.  What have we here?” He moves aside your robe, exposing one of your breasts, and pushes you further on his thigh.  “Such a little girl and such a big attitude.”

“Let me go.”

“No, I don’t think I will.  I enjoy the view too much.  You want to act like you can pitch your little fits without consequences.  You can be heard all throughout the backstage.  Do you know why you have a private dressing room?” You shake your head no, and his glowing blue eyes finally look up at your face.  “Privacy, princess.  I could have you choking on my cock if I wanted to.  Slam you down on the vanity while I rail into you, and you’re just a slobbering mess.”

“Then why don’t you?” His grip around your neck gets tighter, and you try and gulp, but he only forces a slow grind on him.  “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Because your untouched pussy is more valuable than one that’s been stretched out on my fat cock.  You need to remember your place.  You’re worth nothing more than the wet skin between your legs.  You think you’re something special because you can sing, and you got the King to pay for an hour of your time.  His first question was how many people have had you.  All he wants is to split you open.  Conquer you.  You’re nothing.  There’s nothing special about you, but these perky tits, and tight ass.  Once you realize that you’re no more than a flashlight to these men, the better off you are.  And stop with this fucking attitude,” he leans over giving your nipple a suck before grabbing the pumps out of his pocket.  Cupping your tit as he gives your pebble peak a nibble.

“They need to be lubricated, don’t they?  I believe we’re going to suck the life out of these pretty tits.  Keep them hard the rest of the night.  They did the trick though, didn’t they.  I watched Ari unable to keep his mouth off them.”

“August,” Rita says firmly, walking into the dressing room.  “I think it’s time for you to leave,” your lip trembles as he tightens the contraption on you, wincing when he twists it all the way, and you look down in horror at your nipple sucked into the cylinder, throbbing and swollen.  He moves onto the other one, and Rita slaps a hand on your vanity.

“August, your master is calling you.”

“Shut up, you fucking bitch,” his voice mumbles around you nipple.  Standing up straight and attaching the other clamp.  “You know what the third one is for, princess?  You gonna let me suck on that clit, too?”

“August!”

“What the fuck is your problem, Rita?” He finishes up on your skin, and his body spins around to look at her.  “What?  Ari already requested an hour-long private show.  He liked what he saw.”

“And I’m sure Mr. Levinson would not like to hear about you tainting his companion.  What costume is she wearing tonight?” Rita changes the subject to business.  She was smart even if people assumed she was just your handler.  Her eyes only flick once towards you, but it was long enough to see you were stunned quiet.

“The dove costume.  She’s singing in the cage tonight.  Just so she remembers her place.  Make us proud.  Maybe you can see if Ari’s dick really is that big.  I’ll be watching,” smirking, he makes sure to hit Rita’s shoulder with his own.  Slamming the door for good measure as he walks out of the room.  He would have you.  Once Ari was destroyed by you, August would make Ari watch him own your pussy, right before he was shot in the head.

“You know how to piss him off,” Rita says, stepping up to you.  “What else did he do?”

“Nothing you didn’t see,” wiping at your tears, you look down at your chest, “God, I hate him.  I hate this.”

“Play the game,” Rita straightens herself back up, looking at you, smiling when your breathing picks up in panic, “Play their game better than they do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do.  That’s why you're not fighting him.  You’re playing their game, and you’re playing it better.  You see the bigger picture.  You’re smarter than either Calvin or August give you credit for.  Ari is a good one to have on your side.  And even you know this,” you turn around, not wanting to acknowledge anything she was saying.  Playing dumb was becoming second nature to you.

“Good girl.  You just may survive.”

“Rita, go get my costume for the night, and have Tonya come in here to do my makeup.”

“Of course.  Dulce.”

Ari snorts, but leans closer towards the stage, watching you swing inside of a cage.  Calvin wanted to pretend he was a genius, but this message was not subliminal as he thought.  It was meant for him and you.  Putting you in your rightful spot.  Caged up, pretty, and singing for a crowd.  Top completely exposed to everyone looking.

“They’re all watching her, boss,” Jonathan knew better than to stare too long at you.  Ari never took kindly to sharing his play things.  

“Put in my bid for her company.  I do not care the cost,” Jonathan looks over at his boss, wondering what exactly had him so consumed in you.  He was sure that it was more than just the information that you claimed to have.  “Jonathan, I will have company with her tonight.”

“Of course,” he heads off to tell Calvin to name his price for you for the evening.  Knowing that he would only take an hour of your time.  But he would ensure that you would not entertain anyone else.  

Ari’s eyes drift over your curves as you shimmy around.  Other people would think that you were confident in this performance, but he knew better.  Watching as you try to hold the microphone in a way to cover your bare chest, or even the amount of times you would turn around, showing only your feathered ass to the audience.  

He didn’t care.  He would have you alone soon enough.  Away from these prying eyes, and men that were licking their lips and ready to devour you.  He had to get you away from here, regardless if you had information or not.  Your brother had brought you out to slaughter, and left you to be nothing more than a pile of flesh, rhinestones, and feathers.  

The ache in Ari’s pants told him he was definitely attracted to you, but he would be more than just a hungry man.  Unlike the men and women in here that are chomping at the bit for a tiny morsel of you, he wanted you to be able to be the little girl that couldn’t look people in the eyes when she talked.  Now you were a dancing fool for money and pleasure.  Business of the flesh would always be there, but you didn’t want it.  

The other girls laughed, and giggled on stage.  You kept looking off to the side at someone.  Waiting for approval, and continuing on your number.  Ari had questions, and when you were safe, he would get answers.  Was it just Calvin controlling you?  Or was there someone else you feared?  And should those people lay a finger on you, they would be dealt with.

“Mr. Levinson,” Ari turns to look up at the gentleman that dared to take his attention away from you, “I’m August, I’ve come to take you to your private room.”

“And you can wait until she’s finished.  I’m quite enjoying the show.”

“She’s nearly finished.”

“Then you won’t mind waiting.  Are you in charge of her wardrobe?” August nods, smiling as Ari looks only at you.  “Make sure her tits are covered.  I’m the only one that gets to look at them.”

“Sir?”

“I will pay extra to make sure she’s properly dressed for my tastes.  In the private room she can wear whatever she prefers, or nothing at all.  On that stage I want her covered.  Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And do me a favor, quit pumping her nipples up.  They look bruised.  Perhaps you’re using too much suction, August?” You bow, and your arms immediately cover your chest as Ari stands up.  Proving just how much taller than August he was.  Ari’s shoulders are much more broad.  Ari didn’t know why, but he loathed this man.

“I…her nipples need to stay hard.”

“Her nipples will be covered up for all of these people, but me.  I can make them plenty hard on my own.  You may show me the way to the private room.”

“It’s our finest room, sir.”

“I’m sure it is,” buying his time.  That’s all he was doing.  Waiting for the proper moment to strike.  No one would ever find you, and they would never make you feel like meat again.

“Ari,” you whisper, walking into the darkened room.  He was already comfortable and sitting on a couch, his legs spread out wide when he lifts his finger, instructing you to spin around.  Unlike August’s demands, you obey promptly.

“C’mere, and remove your robe,” you let the silk slide off your skin, and only a shelf bra, and barely there panties decorated your body.  Sashaying your hips as you walk closer to him.  You are much more confident with just him.  He’s even able to catch a glimpse of your velvety and glistening folds as you go to straddle his lap.  Whoever chose this outfit needed a raise.

Settling on his lap, his hands circle around your ass, pulling you flush to his crotch, and you lean forward, kissing along his neck as you start grinding on him, “They want to kill you,” you whisper into his ear, leaning back off his chest, and placing your hands on his knees, you continue your motions.  Those panties exposing more and more of you.

Your swollen tits did look good in your bra, and they were beckoning him to grab them.  Giving you a pinch, you wince, making him stop immediately.  “You’re bruised.”

“He left me in those things too long, and they were too tight.”

“I knew it.  I’ve got,” you shake your head no, looking up at the camera again.  “What is it that you want?”

“Make him pay for earlier,” Ari could feel his blood boiling already.  He didn’t know who he was, but he did something to you.  “Put on a show for him.  He’s watching.”

“August?” You give him a small nod, reaching to move your panties aside, you are drenched.  Your body still rolling over top of him.  One look up at him, and you nod, giving him permission to touch you.  “I won’t do this if you’re not okay with it.”

“If I wasn’t okay with it, I wouldn’t have my pussy spread open for you.  I want him to pay.”

“This is only a business agreement.”

“Exactly,” you agree, moaning when his finger slides up your slit.  Giving your clit a roll between his finger and thumb, he pushes two fingers into your core, and you are no longer pretending when you whimper at how well he fills you up with only two thick fingers.  Looking down to watch him pumping in and out of you.

“Son of a bitch!” August hits the table, and slides his chair away from the screens.  “Fucking whore!”

“Isn’t that her job?” Rita laughs.  It served him right.  August and Calvin could play their little games with you and Ari, but they were idiots.  Wanted to start selling you because of Ari’s interest, and then get pissed off when he enjoyed his merchandise.  

August looks back at the screen as Ari spits down into your hole, his other hand grabbing at your tender nipple, and pulls.  Making you move closer to him.  “Fuck my fingers, and tell me what they’re planning.”

With your body hunching over him, you lean into his neck, and no one was any the wiser as to what you were doing.  No one could see your mouth moving, or what you were saying.  All they could see was you rising and falling onto his fingers.  Viewing your legs quivering as your walls clench tight around him.  

“Growl all you want to, August.  He paid for ‘the flesh in between her legs’.  Now how will you ever stack up to him?”

“You’re a bitch just like she is.”

“And she’s the product, isn’t she?  That’s what you and Calvin wanted.  I believe she’s doing her job well.  Enjoying herself in the process,” August grits his teeth when your head tilts back on your shoulders, and you ride over Ari like a crazed woman.  Tits bouncing in his face when he sucks on one of your hardened buds.  “Don’t be jealous.  You can’t sell sex, and get jealous when people enjoy your wares.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Then quit getting hard.”

“Get out of here!” He yells, and Rita slowly backs away from him.  He had an erection that needed to be tended to.  He’s just thankful that all you were feeling was Ari’s fingers, and not something else.  It was almost time.

Ari wipes at his beard as he gets into the car.  Looking out in the city lights, “The house better be prepared.  I need her out, and need myself to go missing.  You’ll be in charge, but I’ll be the one driving.  Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” his assistant responds.  Not making a comment about the state of Ari’s clothes, or the red bruises on his neck.  Didn’t want to mention how Ari kept making excuses to have his hand near his mouth, or was constantly readjusting his pants.  “What did you find out?”

“They want to overthrow me.  Ahh,” he lets out an evil laugh, looking back at the Dirty Martini, “They’ve made an enemy of Dulce though.  She wants blood.”

“She wants your dick.”

“And she can have it whenever she wants.  But she’s much more valuable than that.  Have a jet ready.  We move tomorrow night.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @softsatnin @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @buckysteveloki-me @whimsyplaty92 @elrw24 @sunshine-midnight-rain​ @lovsalpkin​

[lightofraye]

glen powell glen powell GLEN POWELL!!!!!

i wannahear what u think of him and the gigi paris mess!

... my gods, I've turned into a gossip columnist. 😏

All joking aside... there's really not much to tell. Glen, Gigi, and Sydney all kept it out of the public eye. Lots and lots of gossip magazines went nuts, so did fan speculation. I think it was later addressed, eventually, with very vague interviews that only stated something along the lines of "It just didn't work out" and Sydney insisting that she and Glen were only really good friends (that and she was happily engaged, with her fiancé being right there as a producer as they filmed).

As I said, the gossip mags and tabloids made a lot about it.

Whenever Glen and Sydney weren't filming on set, they took tours and trips around Australia. They went to local Sydney (as in Australia, not the actress) sites, Taronga Zoo, and even the Sydney Swans locker room.

There was a behind-the-scenes clip of Sydney on Glen's lap that apparently sent fans into a tizzy.

What's interesting--and noted by many--is that when a lot of those couple-y photos of Glen and Sydney came out, Gigi came to visit Glen in Australia. And he greeted her with flowers.

Anyway, back in April 2023, rumors of affairs stirred up when someone noted that Glen's then-girlfriend, Gigi Paris, unfollowed him and Sydney on social media.

That happened right after Glen and Sydney finished filming Anyone But You.

To many a fan, that meant that was confirmation of an affair. That and Gigi's "break-up" IG post, which was cryptic as heck but also very pointed to anyone who could read between the lines.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Gigi Paris (@msgigiparis)

(Interestingly, Glen actually 'liked' that post.)

Gigi and Glen had been dating since 2020. They had a ton of cute photos on Instagram (both of theirs) and in public. But roughly around the time of filming wrapping up, Gigi and Glen hadn't been seen together since she came over during filming.

Sydney and Glen were also incredibly flirty during the press tour. When they appeared at the 2023 CinemaCon. During an exchange, Glen joked that the actors love to see themselves on screen, and Sydeny responded with, "Oh please, Top Gun."

Glen replied with "I love when she calls me that."

Eventually, June of 2023, Sydney said the supposed affair was just good acting. She claimed that the photos they saw were all of them on set, in character.

While social media and gossip magazines and paparazzi fanned the flames, Glen admitted the intense speculation took a toll. During an interview with Men's Health in November 2023, he admitted, "When all that stuff happened, you know, publicly, it felt disorienting and unfair. But what I'm realizing is that's just a part of this gig now."

He spoke about it six months after Sydney addressed the rumors.

Of course, Sydney fans were puzzled: wasn't she engaged? Yes… yes she was. And still is.

Sydney became engaged to her long-term partner, restaurateur Jonathan Davino, in February of 2022. When she guest hosted SNL in March of this year, she confirmed that she was in fact still engaged with him, and he was on-set for the entirety of Anyone But You. (They co-produced via her production company, Fifty-Fifty.)

Glen made a special appearance on SNL in the audience, and during Sydney's monologue, the camera zoomed onto him instead of her fiancé. A lot of folks found it funny. I found it cringe-worthy. (Link to her monologue.)

Thankfully the rumors began to die down, though there were smatterings of gossip about Jonathan being seen without his ring and "moving" out of Sydney's place. But that too died down.

Meanwhile, Glen's been busy with a number of movies--Hit Man, Twisters, and apparently working on a mini-series (I think) about Chad Powers.

I do remember Glen talking about how finding love is hard when he's constantly working. There's aspects of the industry that makes it hard to have a relationship, especially when they're on the go. He said, in an CBS Mornings interview:

“This is a time where life is moving so fast that I don’t even know if I could bring someone into it … in a healthy way, even if I tried,” the Twisters star explained.

“If love comes and hits me in the face and knocks me over, I welcome it with open arms because that’s something I really want,” Powell said, noting that he wants a family and kids. "At the same time, I realize that it’s going to take a very specific type of person to navigate this. It’s a lot.”

For now, Glen has his adorable dog, Brisket, to keep him company.

[penny00dreadful]

Spies AU - Part 5

Part 1 Part 6 AO3

23rd July 2015

Steve and Jonathan weren't exactly friends, but they had a cordial enough working relationship.

They rarely crossed paths in the hallways of The Agency.

Whenever he was in the building, Steve was almost always either in the training rooms or visiting Robin’s desk amongst the other analysts, who were usually less than happy to see him.

Field agents rarely visited their analysts while they were at work. Most had friendly relationships with one another, but they often met up after or in between work, never during business hours.

But Steve and Robin were one.

There were no office hours or out of office hours for them and every single molecule of Steve’s success as their top agent was just as much Robin’s work as it was his own.

But the other analysts were probably also unhappy with how loud they tended to get when they got lost in conversation.

Jonathan spent all of his time holed up in his dark room or in one of the gadget rooms, tending to his obscenely complicated cameras and lenses that Steve was, quite frankly, terrified of.

They just seemed so fragile.

And he had big, clunky, jock hands that didn’t have much deftness to them.

Unless he was styling his hair but that was a very well practised routine.

Steve wasn’t exactly nervous for the meeting he had set up with Jonathan to discuss the ‘project’ he had in mind but it was just…

How did the phrase go?

High-school never ends?

Yeah.

And like, they hadn’t gone to school together, they’d only met when they both started working for The Agency but it was clear just from looking at them what cliques they would have belonged to.

On one side the quiet, outcast weirdos.

On the other, the meathead jocks.

And there was the whole Nancy of everything too.

Nancy had started at The Agency at the same time Steve and Jonathan had and when going through her training, had been advised by mentors that she had both the high scores and the skill to excel either as a Field Agent or an Investigator.

It was a rare thing.

People usually had one thing they were really good at and then the other things they weren’t as good at, but still had a talent for were added on as an addendum to their skill sheet when being evaluated for early projects until they found their permanent footing.

Nancy was equally competent in the field and in Investigations so she’d bounced back and forth for a while, trying to decide which was right for her.

She’d gone on a few early missions with Steve and there was a mutual attraction there but long stakeouts taught them they didn’t have much in common and they didn’t really have anything to talk about, which was a must for Steve in a relationship.

But she and Jonathan seemed to get on like a house on fire.

When she was trying her hand at Investigations, they were seen together constantly, even when the job didn’t require them to be, always deep in conversation.

It had been obvious to Steve that the writing was on the wall and there was no ill will on his side.

Yeah, they’d had some casual flirtations and some close moments but that was it. She and Jonathan just seemed right.

But the rest of the office seemed to think he was going to blow a gasket over it.

Especially after Nancy officially chose to work in Investigations, making her choice of partner right along with it.

He’d been eyed warily by those in the room, like they expected him to club Jonathan over the head, throw Nancy over his shoulder and hide her away in his cave.

Which was ridiculous.

But no matter how hard he tried to make it obvious he didn’t care, apparently the teenage high-school jock stereotype followed him around like a bad smell.

A lot of the Analysts and Technicians and Investigators tended to view the Field Agents as hot heads who drank protein powder in their morning coffee and constantly measured their dicks.

It wasn’t the most inaccurate take Steve had ever heard.

But there was a reason he preferred to hang out with Robin rather than the other Agents.

The least of which was that Robin never asked him, between the two of them, who he thought had a bigger dick, it was obvious it was her.

Her strap-on’s were fucking monstrous.

Steve sat in one of the meeting rooms, five minutes before he was due to meet with Jonathan and they could start discussing what this surveillance job entailed.

But five minutes passed with no sign.

Then ten.

And another ten.

Steve huffed to himself, irritated and stood. Fine, he’d just have to go and find Jonathan himself.

He changed floors and walked down the hallways towards the rows and rows of dark rooms, until he got to Jonathan’s door.

The light above was off, indicating it was safe to come in and Steve knocked, crossing his arms and waiting.

When no answer came he tried the door handle and found it locked, keeping the sensitive information inside, away from prying eyes and meaning Jonathan was most likely not in there.

There were a few other places he could be.

At Nancy’s desk, in the cafeteria or in the Technology department.

Steve decided to start at the last one. At least if Jonathan wasn’t there, he could talk to Dustin and maybe try to knock some more sense into the kid.

Dustin was down bad for his supervisor Suzie. Completely gone for her and he gushed about her practically any chance he got.

There had been a few moments when things had nearly happened, according to Dustin but Suzie always pulled back and even though both she and Steve had explained to him (separately) that it was a bad fucking idea for him to get involved with his supervisor, there was a power imbalance and it could end catastrophically, the kid wouldn’t listen.

To Steve’s dismay, Dustin was nowhere to be seen, probably because Suzie was nowhere to be seen.

But at the furthest end of the room, sitting hunched over a metal desk with tiny bits of a disassembled camera strewn about him sat Jonathan, glaring down at something like it had personally offended him.

He didn’t look up until Steve was practically right on top of him.

“Steve?” He asked, confused, turning to look at the clock hanging on the wall, his eyes going wide. “Shit, sorry man. I don’t- I think it all got away from me. You still have time for that meeting?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” He said, even though he was still a little miffed. He didn’t have anything better to do but Jonathan didn’t need to know that. “Our meeting room should still be free.”

After Jonathan had gathered all of his stuff and put it away, they walked back down the hallways in silence. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but it wasn’t the most awkward thing Steve had ever experienced either. 

Just as Steve had closed the meeting room door behind them, Jonathan turned to him.

“Not that I’m upset about it or anything but why did you seek me out specifically?”

Steve paused where he stood and took in him with wide eyes.

“Um…”

“It’s just…” Jonathan hesitated, crossing his arms, “surely you’d have a better connection with Nancy and she’s in Investigations so she’d be able to get more info for you.”

He looked almost nervous, like he expected Steve to wedgie him and leave him hanging off of a coat hook or something. 

Steve shook his head. 

“No, I couldn’t go to Nancy. You know what she’s like. She’d want to know everything. Why I need these people watched, who they’re connected to, what the connection was between them… all that and this is a very…” He sighed, throwing himself down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the table, putting distance between the two of them, trying to placate Jonathan’s nervousness around him. “This is a very delicate thing. You, on the other hand, don’t tend to ask questions. You won’t dig deeper into the people I want you to survey, you won’t take risks and you won’t be seen.”

“Oh.”

“Not that that’s a bad thing!” Steve scrambled to explain. “It’s just I need this handled with finesse. You cannot be discovered. And Nancy doesn’t really do finesse, she’s more like a…”

“Like a sledgehammer?”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it, I guess. But you know what I mean, she’d try to dig into the why of everything and put herself at risk of being discovered.”

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, I get what you mean. Okay.” He sat himself down directly across from Steve. “Tell me what I’m looking for.”

3rd August 2015

Jonathan was good.

Jonathan was very fucking good.

When he’d asked Steve if he wanted just photo surveillance or if he also wanted video and audio too, Steve had stared just kind of dumbfounded. 

He didn’t think those last two were even options.

But here he was, sitting in front of his office desk, hundreds upon hundreds of minutes of video files and audio files in front of him along with thick folders in his lap of photographs taken at a distance from rooftops and around corners or through windows.

And they’d all been compiled chronologically along with small little notes added by Jonathan if something seemed noteworthy that happened as he was getting this info.

Steve’s four targets, Grant, Jeff, Gareth and Wayne were all here in full colour, practically telling their stories directly to him.

It felt a little creepy.

Almost like Eddie was a prospective date that Steve was looking into with way too much interest, like someone who wanted to wear his skin as a coat. 

But that wasn’t what this was. Eddie was the enemy. Steve was just gaining info about the enemy.

He was not being a creepy fucking stalker finding out everything he could about someone before they’d even kissed.

That would be just too fucking far.

Though he couldn’t deny it did kind of look like that. 

He pushed it to the back of his mind and rifled through the photos again.

He had already been through all of the files multiple times at this stage, clipping and saving the most important parts that told him their stories and had filled in any gaps along with his own research. 

Throughout it all Steve was hoping he could find an origin point for why Eddie was the way that he was now. 

Something that had pushed him to be able to be secret and silent and deadly.

He hit a completely dead end with Grant, Gareth and Jeff. All three of them dressed in the same kind of style. Dark and ripped clothes. Leather and plaid and chains and denim and wild hair and tattoos.

Out of the three of them Grant looked the scariest. He was a very tall and very large man with an impressive beard, covered head to toe in tattoos, piercings, pins and patches but the guy exuded teddy bear energy.

He was just a big ol’ softy. 

Jonathan had arrived into town and had begun observing Grant coincidentally on the same day as the anniversary of his mother’s passing. 

For the entire day Grant’s studio had been hopping with people. Tiny and weathered old church ladies, straight backed men in business suits, little kids and soccer moms all flooded in and out with a bouquet of flowers or a dish of something or a card in their hands for him.

And from the audio that Jonathan had managed to catch from inside, the gifts weren’t just to save face.

Many of the people would stay to tell stories or commiserate with Grant, tell him how sorry they were that he had lost his mother and how much they had loved her, how he had been such a good son to her at the end, how proud she was of him and how proud she would still be. 

It was adorable and not what Steve thought he’d be hearing from somewhere in Bumfuck Nowhere Indiana. Even the most snooty of Hawkins residents seemed to hold a soft spot for Grant’s deceased mom.

Even outside of his mother’s day of passing, the rest of the town was cordial and friendly to him, returning his jaunty waves or his smiles on the street.

There was one guy who seemed to call in on him more than the others, one guy who owned a flower shop right next door and seemed to keep him in constant supply of fresh flowers, delivering them every morning himself and then hanging around for longer than strictly necessary. 

It was cute. 

So in the end Steve doubted Eddie got his killer instinct from Grant Fogarty.

It was just as unlikely he became dangerous by hanging around with Jeff. If Grant was a giant teddy bear then Jeff was a big marshmallow. 

Like his other two friends, Jeff looked plenty intimidating. Tall and dark and covered in tattoos that could be easily hidden underneath a long-sleeved shirt that the guy wore to work at the fucking middle school as a music teacher because apparently Steve had never ever been right about judging a book by it’s cover before, not once.

He had misjudged Eddie, thinking he was safe when he was actually the most dangerous person he had ever met. 

He’s misjudged Grant and now he’d misjudged Jeff too because, based off of the chatter from inside the school walls, Jeff was far and away the teacher the kids loved the most.

He was calm, helpful, he explained things clearly and in a way the kids could grasp, he never raised his voice or got frustrated when it took the children a while to get a piece right and he also seemed to have gained himself the trust of some of the most ostracised kids.

More than once Steve had seen a kid be a victim of bullying or just having a really, really bad day, immediately make their way to Mr. Best’s music room where he’d comfort them and talk them down with low, soothing words and soft encouragement and Steve couldn’t help but think how different his own life might have turned out if he had a teacher like that growing up.

There was a student teacher at the school that Jeff seemed particularly close to as well , James. They were always walking the halls together or sitting with each other in the staff room.

On top of that, Jeff had an incredible voice. Masculine and raspy and lilting in a way that made Steve’s stomach tingle and he may or may not have kept most of those audio files to listen to on repeat.

So, okay, nothing there.

Maybe Gareth would have some more answers.

Except, nope. Because despite how mean and scary Gareth looked along with the other two, and despite the fact that he was clearly a little more crabby than them, he was still a sweet guy, quiet but sweet. 

There had been some kind of accident at the garage where he worked a couple of years ago, causing permanent nerve damage in his left hand and leaving him with a wealth of scars and putting an end to his drumming right along with it. But he was so well liked and had so much good will built up in the community, he was allowed to stay on at his job, even if it meant he worked a little slower than everyone else.

There was a curly haired, blondeish man almost always at his side, Bill, who helped him get most of his work done and the two seemed to be cordial to each other, a friendly enough working relationship.

Steve would have expected two people who’d worked so close to each other for so long to form something a little deeper but sometimes people didn’t click right and he couldn’t exactly begrudge Gareth or Bill that.

Okay, so Eddie had apparently grown up with incredible friends who were sweet and kind and didn’t go in for all that macho bullshit like so many friends did and his relationships seemed to be fucking perfect.

Steve scowled, staring down at the photos in his hands and thought again how different his life might have been if he’d grown up with friends like that. Friends that didn’t stand behind him and follow while he tried to play the part of the perfect little rich boy and actually seemed to have personalities of their own, refusing to bend to societal norms.

People who were all very much like Eddie, inside and out.

Throughout the chatter and audio he’d picked up, none of these friends had mentioned Eddie even once, at least not by name. He might have been referenced in conversation between the three of them whenever they met up for a few drinks, which was often, but Steve couldn’t be sure. 

If Eddie was mentioned when Steve suspected he was, it was always with a hint of resignation, or sadness. 

Like they missed him.

After all of this, Steve thought it had to be Wayne.

It had to be Wayne that put that survival instinct in him. It had to be Wayne who taught him to be quiet and crafty and able to fight.

Kids from abusive households usually had to change their personalities and keep their emotions in check to avoid the wrath of their guardians, to keep themselves safe and alive and Wayne had been to war.

Maybe Wayne had never been able to leave that war behind? It would make sense.

But again, for the fourth time in this part of his investigation, Steve was proven wrong.

Everything Steve had read about Wayne was true, he was a war vet, he had a laborious job, he’d been a farm boy in his youth, but what the records didn’t show was just how quiet and reserved and respectful that man was.

Even in his private moments when no one else was around, when there was something sudden that happened or something angered him, he never lashed out, he never got violent.

He just took a deep breath and moved on.

He was a man who looked and held himself like he was dangerous, but he was anything but.

He was a better man than Steve.

And where the other boys, the Hellfire boys, hadn’t spoken about Eddie directly, Wayne couldn’t seem to be able to shut up about him.

He talked about Eddie constantly.

He was so obscenely proud of his nephew, talking mostly to his dialysis nurse, Connie, who visited the trailer every few days to help hook him up to his machine, observe him and keep him company for the hours it would take.

She seemed like a pleasant enough woman around Wayne’s age with blonde hair but a relatively stern face.

She would sit and listen as Wayne talked about how Eddie got away from this shithole town, how he’d gotten himself an honest hard working job travelling the country as a demolitions expert (yeah right, nice cover), how good he was to pay for Connie to come here instead of Wayne needing to drive hours there and back to Indianapolis for his treatment along with tales upon tales upon tales of the most ridiculous shenanigans Eddie got up to in his youth.

Like the first time Wayne had to work an overnight shift when Eddie was fifteen. He’d been pumped at the idea that he would have the trailer to himself all night. The freedom had gotten to his head though and he had decided that he was going to eat his weight in chocolate chip waffles with marshmallows on top.

Wayne had come home to find Eddie bent over the toilet, throwing his guts up and swearing off marshmallow chocolate chip waffles for the rest of his life.

If Steve wasn’t already stupidly attracted to and into the guy, Wayne was making a hell of a good case for him and he didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Then Wayne mentioned the urban legend, the mythological figure around the town, the Shadow of Hawkins.

It was the second time Steve had heard the moniker, except now it was coming out of Wayne’s mouth and though he didn’t link the name to Eddie, said there was no evidence, it was all fear mongering and speculation because his boy was an outsider, didn’t play by ‘the rules’, it was clear Wayne knew a little more than he was letting on.

Abusive husbands mysteriously getting injured or arrested, exploitative employers suddenly getting arrested after evidence turned up out of nowhere, bullies and thieves and grifters stopping one day out of nowhere.

So Eddie was a bit of a vigilante back in the day.

A man with a clear moral compass who knew right from wrong even if the ‘right’ things he did were executed in the dark.

So what had happened?

When had Eddie turned bad?

Was he bad?

Well… Steve told himself that he couldn’t be sure. Eddie probably was because… well because they were on opposite sides. 

And Steve was on the good side and Eddie was on the bad side so that made him bad… right?

Right.

Steve slapped the photographs down on his desk and stormed out of his office. He needed to take his mind off of things.

“Birdie.” He said as he flipped the switch on his communicator and shrugged his jacket on.

“Dingus.” She replied. “Hopper’s gonna have your head if he finds out this conversation is not job related.”

“It’s very job related. I need to have a meeting with my guy in the chair. Drinks?”

“The local?”

“Yup. Meet you there in ten?”

“You got it.”

Part 1 Part 6 AO3

Divider by firefly-graphics

@geekymagicalpotato @estrellami-1

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation

[mjlovescm]

Just a bet, 🍋 Jonathan Byers

surprisingly the first time I've written him and submissive men in gen 💋, content: nsfw, fingering, p in v sex, self degradation, work count: 1.7k

You never liked to be classified as a mean girl, but you could admit that this was definitely mean girl behavior. It was one thing to talk about someone, but to go as far as make bets on them. Especially regarding the size of their you know what. Either way, a bet was a bet, and something told you that you would be the one taking all the money home tonight. 

“I didn't really think you were a party guy.” You told Jonathan as you applied a fresh layer of lip gloss before rubbing your lips together. 

“Oh, I promise you, I’m not.” He says, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. “I just uh- I guess I wanted to try to get out of my shell a bit.”

He gives you a soft nervous smile, clearly unsure where to keep his gaze. He says something else, but his words drown in the roar of the party. Leaning in, you brought your hand to his shoulder, allowing him to instead say it into your ear. Before he spoke, you heard his breath hitch and heard him gulp. Hook, line and sinker. 

“W-what about you?” Jonathan asks, not wanting the conversation to end. 

Carefully your hand moves to the back of his neck, he allows you to bring his head lower, so you could easily speak into his ear. You take the opportunity to let your fingers comb into the hairs at the back of Jonathan's head. The feeling drags a noise out of him before it's quickly covered with a cough. 

“I guess you could say I’m the same way. My friends are the real party girls, and sometimes I just tag along.” You told him, fingers playing in his short hair. “Can I ask you something? It's like really loud in here, and you seem ten times more interesting than anyone here. Do you mind if we find a quiet place to talk?”

Jonathan looks at you for a moment before responding. He was unsure if you were being serious or not. It wouldn't be the first time a pretty girl had teased him in this way. Narrowing your eyes, you scanned his indecisive expression before leaving him to think about your question. He watched you as you made your way to your friends. Once you did, they all looked to Johnathan, and the nerves in his body turned his stomach. In worry? In excitement?

Either way, when Jonathan saw you making your way back to him, he swallowed his nerves and bit the bullet. The two of you searched the crowded house for an empty room, and the nerves Johnathan had tried to suppress were quickly rising. He couldn't tell if it was all the people, their comments, their crude facial expressions. Or if it was you. Eventually an empty room was found and the two of you were finally alone. 

Of course, before anything could happen, you needed to ease Jonathan into it. You knew boys like him, the silent sweet type, probably definitely inexperienced. Most people think they shy away from sex, but you knew it was the opposite. All that lack of attention would build and build, so the moment they had a chance to let it out they'd take it. Thankfully, talking with Jonathan was actually somewhat fun, and what came after was surprisingly incredible. 

“And the underdeveloped film can't be exposed to light”

“Uh huh.” You nodded, clearly not paying attention.  

Or at least not paying attention to what he was talking about and more so the way he was talking about it. He spoke so passionately and intensely about his interest. Even going as far as to set his drink aside when the muscle memory in his hands started to kick in, mirroring what you could only assume was him holding film or his camera. He continued to talk, not yet noticing the way you were inching closer to him.

“because it ruins the pictures.” 

“Uh huh.” You tilted your head to the side. “Of course it does.” 

“And it uh almost ruins the possibility of it developing c-correctly.” 

The realization slowly creeps up on him and Jonathans eyes are back flickering between yours and your lips.  Your deep brown eyes and long lashes. Your beautiful brown and pink lips shining with gloss and shimmering with glitter. He bet they were soft, very soft and tasted like whatever flavor gloss you were wearing. God, he couldn't wait to know what they tasted like. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

He nods eagerly.

“Can I kis-” 

Jonathan waste no time, his lips crashed into yours, and it's clear now how pent-up he really his. He kisses you anxiously yet desperately. Desperate to feel your touch. Yet nervous to feel you. He forces his hands to stay on his knees balled into fist, daring to break free. 

Poor thing, god, he really had no idea what he was doing

Thankfully, though, you did. Taking his hands into yours you guided them to your side erasing whatever space was left between the two of you. He quickly adapts to the feeling, gently squeezing and massaging your body. His fingers press into your skin, daring to pull you even closer before hesitating and pushing you back. His desperation and nervousness fighting back and forth. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck before swiftly climbing on top of him, Jonathan's mouth clung to yours. His hands slid to your hips and Jonathan's grip tightened. He pulls you into his lap, squirming at the pressure your body brought. A muffled sound leaving him as your body meets his. A moan ? A whimper ? 

Regardless of what it was, it wouldn't be the last sound to leave the very needy boy. Soon both of your clothes were discarded on the floor, leaving the two of you in your underwear and Jonathan with a new-found confidence. He roamed around your body more freely. His eyes, his lips, his hands. Venturing over your chest, neck, collarbones and clothed clit, taking in all and every inch of you.

“F-fuck, Jonathan, just like that.”

The palm of his hand slides up and down against your aching clit. He teases you the same way he'd tease himself. Deep and rough. You shudder at his touch, chuckling through shaking gasps and moans. 

“Do you like that?” Jonathan asks between deep breaths hoping, praying that you did. 

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, and quickly you nodded. Jonathan's eyebrows pinch together, and he holds himself back, copying your actions as little sounds slipped from both of your lips. Jonathan continues his actions focusing solely on you and your pleasure, his middle, and index fingers pull the fabric of your underwear aside. He presses his palm harder against your clit, moving in tight close circles as his fingers dip inside of you. You gasp and move your hips forward, pushing them deeper inside of you. 

“Fuck.” You moaned body buzzing. 

Rocking back and forth you rode Jonathan's hand. Losing yourself in the combined pleasure of his palm and fingers. You were close and even he could feel it. The way you tighten and soaked his fingers. The way it ran down his hand he could cum just from seeing you be this undone. You were unraveling right before his eyes and Jonathan was loving every second of it. 

Your climax came and went taking all your energy and restarting your stamina. With shaky legs you climbed off Jonathan and planted your self on the bed. You expected him to join you immediately to finish what the two of you had started. But instead Jonathan found himself a bit preoccupied cleaning his fingers of your cum. 

You chuckled to yourself at the realization before pushing off the bed. You wrapped your arms around him, you rested your head on his shoulder feeling a bit sentimental. Knowing that although you were doing this with ulterior motives Jonathan wasnt. You pressed to his jaw whispering sweet nothing's to him. Hoping that he’ll remember your words and remember this moment as something sweet. 

“I want you.” You said softly. “I want you to fuck me Jonathan.”

He gasped under his breath, and you smiled a mischievous grin. Slowly you brought your hand to his lap teasing Jonathan over the fabric of his boxers. Focusing entirely on the dark spot his pre-cum had created. Circling the damp area in tight slow motions. He squirms from your touch little whimpers leaving him as he shifted. 

He nodded immediately, and his lips desperately found yours. You were both swift. Removing the few pieces of clothing still left on your bodies and laying on the bed. From there things went on how they always did until they didnt. It happened so quick you almost didnt notice the change at first. One moment Jonathan was praising you and your body and the next he was doing the opposite to himself. 

“Oh god you feel so fucking good.” He moaned. “am I as clueless as you were hoping?” 

The words slipped through the cracks of your mind. You were too overwhelmed with the creeping feeling of over stimulation. Your last orgasm mixing with the one that was now quickly building. 

 “Huh is it as small as you expected?” Jonathan spoke again with steady thrust yet this time you caught it. 

“Wha-?” You questioned him mind hazy. 

“This is what you wanted right? To see what the weirdo had in his pants to see how little he really was just say it.” Jonathan persisted voice shaking. “Say it just say it please.” He begged dropping his steady pace for a speedier sloppier one. “Please just say it.” He whimpered your name. 

His hips snapped against yours deeper and faster Jonathan worked you both. Again and again he continued building and building your climax while holding his back. A familiar feeling spread across the bottom of your stomach and as your second orgasm took over your body Jonathan quickly pulled out. His hand met his shaft furious pumps of his fist spray thick white ropes across your skin. He moans weakly prolonging his climax until it was too much for him to handle. Jonathan collapses atop you and his knowledge of you and your friend's antics becomes crystal clear. 

“I hope the moneys worth it.” He huffed pushing himself off of you to instead lay beside you. “What did you bet huh my dick was small or that I’d last three seconds.” 

You laugh at the accusation. 

“Nope I bet the opposite.” You smirked. “It's always the silent ones who surprise you.”

Jonathan looked at you softly, surprised. 

“Yea… I guess so.”

Masterlist - mjlovescm "Sweet and Sour", Argyle one-shot "While the conditioner sits", 🍋 Eddie Munson