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rebelfell · 1 month

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Can I interest anyone in a wee bit of frenemy(?)eddie and some soft confessions while under the influence?

18+, MDNI 2.2k

cw: drug use (edible)

“Oh, wow. She’s really out.”

Nancy wasn’t wrong, but Eddie didn’t need to be told. He had noted your rapid descent into sleep when it started halfway through the movie. Your eyelids fluttering like they had weights attached to them and your body curling into itself as you sank into the cushions of the Wheeler’s sofa.

You were crumpled in a ball at the end of it now, hugging the arm like you thought you were going to roll off the edge of a cliff if you let go. Your half-drunk beer still sat on the end table, abandoned once the edible you split with Argyle took effect.

Eddie had foolishly tried to warn you off it, saying you should start with half of your half and go from there. But of course that only set the two of you off like a pair of dueling firecrackers.

He didn’t know how he kept ending up in these spats with you. He never intended to insult you, it just seemed he had a real knack for it. You always accused him of babying you and he’d accuse you of being too stubborn for your own good.

Had anyone besides Eddie suggested you take it easy, you probably would have listened and might still be conscious right now.

Nancy jostled you gently, trying to rouse you while Eddie peered over her shoulder. He didn’t care for the lifeless way your limbs hung, for the way your head lolled forward on your shoulders like you couldn’t hold it up yourself.

It made his fingers drum nervously on the outside edge of his thigh and the wallet chain that hung there clinked with each and every irregular tap.

Of course he knew there was logically no way you could OD on a pot brownie—but that didn’t mean he delighted in seeing you so incapacitated.

Eyes shut tight, you started babbling softly in response to Nancy’s voice as she tried to draw you back to the world of the waking. With a soft oof, she got you to put one arm around her neck and attempted to lift you off the couch. But even with the deceptive strength of her slight frame, she wasn’t getting you anywhere by herself.

So, she glanced around the room at the rest of their friends in their various states of intoxication.

Steve and Robin were long gone, Robin being the winner of their coin toss for who got to drink that night while the other stayed sober. She’d skipped on the edible and mainlined strawberry daiquiris instead, leading to her calling out forlornly as Steve helped drag her out the door,

“What if I puke pink? Please, please, please, don’t let me puke pink—”

Argyle and Jonathan were passed out, entwined on the pallet of blankets and pillows on the floor, Jonathan likely not realizing the warm chest he was burying his face in wasn’t his girlfriend’s.

Finally, her determined gaze fell to Eddie, and she tilted her head at him in that Nancy way of her’s that gave out marching orders without her so much as speaking a word. With another glance at your sleeping form, Eddie released a resigned sigh and nodded his head.

As they helped you climb the stairs, one arm slung over each of their shoulders, you started to rouse again and slowly registered what was happening through the fog of your high.

“Aww, shit…m’fucked up, huh?” you chuckled, letting out a heavy sigh. Head lifted the couple of inches you could manage, “M’so sorry, Nance, I shouldn’t have…he was right…again…”

The bitter edge in your voice as the last word left your lips made Eddie’s brow jump with interest. You lifted your head the full two inches you could manage and peered at Nancy through half-lidded eyes. Your head then swiveled to the other side and Eddie braced himself for more vitriol.

But none came.

Your face didn’t even change and Eddie realized your current state made he and Nancy’s mops of messy brown curls somewhat indistinguishable. You just continued on like you were still talking to your best friend, not the guy you couldn’t stand.

“Wheeler, you’re a fucking beast, you know that? You’re so strong…”

The loopy giggle you let out brought a smile to Eddie’s lips in spite of himself. He felt your hand start to curl around his shoulder and it made him tense, worrying you’d recognize the rough denim of his vest. But your fingers simply held it, rubbed the frayed hem of his cut-off sleeve between the pads, your sleepy smile re-forming.

“God, Nance, you smell so good…”

Your head suddenly drooped, landing partially on Eddie’s shoulder and making his breath catch.

You took a deep inhale of his scent, your chest expanding with it and making Eddie’s eyes bulge and then avert quickly when he caught himself ogling the deep scoop of your neckline. He had already committed most of the night to avoiding just that, his eyes just…slipped for a second.

Over your head, he caught Nancy’s gaze and the cloudy blue color might as well have been a bright red laser for how clearly she saw through him.

Thankfully, they got to the guest room before she could make any damning remarks. She pushed open the door and flicked on the bedside lamp, illuminating a bed piled obscenely high with pillows and a down comforter seemingly thicker than some mattresses Eddie had slept on.

“Can you hold her?” Nancy asked, looking from the bed back to him.

His throat bobbed with a harsh swallow and he nodded, only half-sure of his answer. Nancy lifted your other arm from her shoulder and turned you into his body. Your other arm wrapped around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder.

His hands wrapped hesitantly around your back, holding you against him almost like you were slow dancing. He had to resist the urge to sway.

Heart thundering so loud he feared it might wake you, Eddie watched while Nancy pushed all of the decorative pillows to the floor and turned down the comforter, motioning Eddie forward.

He walked you backwards a few steps and sat you down on the edge of the bed while Nancy knelt to take off your shoes. Thankfully, the dress code on movie night was always supremely casual and the track pants and tank top you’d worn would be fine to sleep in.

You babbled a bit more as they got you ready for bed, seemingly oblivious to Eddie’s presence—even mentioning him briefly as they helped you lay flat and Nancy lifted your legs onto the bed.

“He’s just so annoying, you know?” you muttered bitterly. “Like, whatever, you’re hot and you play guitar and you’ve banged like half the town. That doesn’t mean you know everything.”

Eddie tried not to let the words sting. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t said before to his face, but there was something about you still saying it, even when he “wasn’t there” to hear it.

“I’m gonna get water,” Nancy whispered, already out the door. “Just keep an eye on her, please?”

Eddie frowned and grumbled in response, but he didn’t move from his spot beside you. He did start to turn away, but stopped when you shifted in the bed. You reached out a limp hand and caught just the tips of Eddie’s fingers, tugging lightly on them like you wanted to tell him something.

He sank slowly to his knees, trying to hear you as your lips moved almost mutely.

“Should’ve listened,” you muttered. “Shouldn’t’ve been such a dick…”

You seemed perfectly content continuing your conversation even without “Nancy” responding, and Eddie wondered if he should just go? He was positive you’d be mortified if you ever found out he had overheard any of this. But even as he was screaming at his feet to move, for his knees to rise, they remained planted on the Wheeler’s plush carpeting at your next words.

“Nance…why doesn’t he like me?”

It took what felt like a year for Eddie to unfreeze. He looked towards the door for a sign of Nancy’s shadow in the hallway, the sound of her footsteps on the stairs. But there was none.

Your head lolled on the pillow, eyes still shut but the lids twitching subtly like you were trying to open them. If you did, you’d be staring straight into Eddie’s own rapt gaze. You still held your pitifully weak grasp on his fingers, and he easily could have pulled away. But he didn’t.

Eddie just watched, torn between his standards of decency and being desperate to find out what you were talking about. He didn’t even know you were into anyone—let alone that you liked them enough to groan about them to Nancy. What kind of idiot wouldn’t like you back?

Some sadistic part of him wanted to find out.

“I mean, I know I’m not—m’not like…Chrissy—but I’m alright, aren’t I? An’ I wore thisstupid booby shirt hoping he’d notice and he just…”

Your voice took on a wounded waver and you stopped, inhaling deeply as if to steady yourself. The beginnings of tears started to shimmer along your lash line and you shut your eyes tighter, but it only squeezed one of them out and made it trickle down your temple in a wet trail.

Okay…Eddie was really confused now.

He didn’t even know you knew his ex-girlfriend’s name until it came tumbling past your lips. And he sure as shit had so noticed your booby shirt—he’d barely been able to keep his eyes off you, had to actively force himself not to stare.

Had you actually…did you really wear it for him?

All of a sudden, you rolled onto your side and your eyes cracked open the widest he had seen them all night. You looked almost lucid and you were staring directly into Eddie’s face.

He flinched slightly, worried you might scream when you saw him. But you just sighed, scanning his features all glassy and moon-eyed as you stared at him plainly. Unabashedly.

Like he’s an oil painting that couldn’t look back.

“He’s just so…pretty.”

The words are whispered, like a secret. And it takes everything in him to remain totally still and not to let his eyes bug completely out of his skull. Wait, did you…Did you not think he was there?

“I like’im so much…what’m I gonna do?”

There it was again. That plaintive whine, that broken lilt of your voice that tugged mercilessly at something deep inside of him. Heartstrings he didn’t know were there until you plucked them.

You looked at him with those shiny eyes. Literal tears were filling them now, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You were crying. Over him? What kind of world was he living in?

And nearly too late, Eddie realized your eyes were fluttering closed again. Not from exhaustion, but to lean in and kiss him.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. You stretched your neck forward, hand coming up to cup his jaw—god, your palms were so soft, not rough and hard like his—and Eddie felt himself melt briefly into your touch, just for a moment before he realized what you were doing.

Eyes closing, chest heaving, lips parting as you leaned into what you thought was a dream.

No, no, no, he thought frantically. Not like this—

Eddie wrapped his hand around your wrist and gently pulled away from you. It made you push a little harder, trying to fight your way out of his grasp, but you were weak and looked more like a kitten trying to box. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want you to get upset, he just—

“Hey,” he soothed, gently brushing the backs of his fingertips along your jaw. “Just go to sleep, okay? We can talk about this in the morning.”

You blinked, seemingly in realization, like you were surprised to hear him speak. And it made him wonder how many of your other dreams he’d starred in where he didn’t say a word.

But his voice seemed to soothe you somewhat, your fists unclenching and dropping to lay on the softness of the sheets. You nodded your head as your face sunk back into the pillow, your cheek rubbing the dainty floral bouquets on the case.

Eddie let out the breath he didn’t remember he was holding, his shoulders slumping with it as his mind raced. Carefully, with nimble fingers curled around the edge of the comforter, he tugged it up further over your shoulders, almost to your chin. You snuggled a little deeper into your sleep and Eddie tucked the blanket in a little tighter, his heart pounding with every second.

And before he could talk himself out of it, he dropped a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

Once in a while we have to do the pining, I guess 🙄

Very veeeeeeeeeery loosely inspired by that scene in New Girl where Jess is on painkillers. Ty for reading - love you, mean it!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things

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himbosandhardwear · 3 months

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Eddie has a bad habit of picking at his skin when he's nervous. Not, like, shy nervous or stage fright nervous, but the real kind of nervous, not-sure-I’m-gonna-survive-this kind of nervous. Like while he was alone in the boat house, he'd shredded every one of his cuticles. That time Hopper caught him behind The Hawk, very obviously selling his wares, he'd bitten his lips bloody.

Tonight he's picking a scab off his knee. It's practically healed already, so it won't bleed, he just needs to feel something on his body come loose before he does.

“You good, dude?” Steve asks, so in tune to Eddie's nervous disposition. Such a good guy. What a friend.

Eddie lets his head hit his knee caps with a thunk.

“Yup.”

Steve snorts. “You don't look good. I mean… You know what I mean.”

He smiles, tilting his head to look at Steve, always happy to give him a hard time.

“Oh, absolutely. You think I look good, don't cha, Stevie?”

He gets a couch pillow to the face for that, but they're both laughing so he doesn't think he's crossed the line yet.

Yet, yet, yet.

“Seriously, what's up with you? You've been quiet. It makes me want to call the squad.”

“Har har,” Eddie mumbles, but he does uncurl himself, sitting back against the couch again. “I'm trying to work up the nerve to ask for advice but it's-” Christ, he doesn't even want to admit to being embarrassed, that's how embarrassed he is.

“It's what?” Steve asks, the picture of earnest encouragement. “You can talk to me about anything, man, we're, like, bonded in blood or whatever.”

“Right. Yeah. Except this has the potential to get real awkward, real quick, and I'm not sure we're at that level of friendship yet.”

“Well,” he drawls, “if you ask me whatever it is that's got you all flustered I'm sure that will level us up. Right?”

“I'm not flustered.” God damn his red fucking face. Steve just laughs at him. “It's just, I don't have anyone else to ask about this. Jonathan probably doesn't have this particular problem, cause he's got- Uh. Sorry.” Steve waves it away, so Eddie goes on. “The kids are too young and the band guys don't understand what we went through-”

“Eddie, just spit it out.”

“Fuck! Okay, fine! You asked for it.” He takes a giant breath, steels his spine and just says it. “The Trauma is affecting my ability to get laid and I don't know how to fix it. Every time I get close to it I freak out and have to bail.”

There. All out now.

He looks over at Steve, and it's so much worse than being laughed at or pitied. He just looks sad.

He shakes it off quickly, hair barely moving, Eddie notes. He finds Steve's hair routine both endearing and ridiculous.

“Yeah. Okay. That's super common, just so you know,” Steve assures him first. “Robin says it's all connected, your mind and your body, so trauma can, like, get trapped in weird places like that. I can't play baseball anymore. Cause the memory of beating demodogs to death.”

“As you do,” Eddie quips.

“Right. But your thing. Uh. Yeah, it took some time before I could relax enough to even attempt getting laid, let alone actually do it.”

“So?” Eddie drawls, waiting. “How did you get over it?”

Something is off. Steve's not known for being skiddish about sex, but his hesitation and his inability to look Eddie in the eye is setting off alarms.

“Hey, if this is too weird for you-”

“No, I'm good, it's fine. Just, I'm the only person you have to talk to about this, so I'm gonna try to be helpful but, uh,” he scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “in all honesty, I haven't been laid since before Vecna either. Way before. So. Yeah. Not sure I should be giving out advice on anything.”

That's crazy. Like actually crazy. He can't even compute Steve Harrington not absolutely dripping in women. He must have some look on his face because Steve gives a dry sort of laugh, self deprecating, and leans back against the couch with him.

“Weren't you on a date with Brenda Mulligan the night- Vecna’s first attack?”

Steve shoots him a look. “Y- Yeah, but that didn't go anywhere. We weren't, like, compatible or whatever.”

Oh, yeah, it was weird that Eddie knew that at all, let alone remembered it nine months later. “That's too bad,” he replies lamely.

“Yep.”

He feels terrible for dragging down the whole night, it would've been better if he'd just kept his mouth shut. But that's never been his strong suit, as evidenced by him blurting out, “If the hottest guy in Hawkins can't find a suitable date, what fucking chance do I have.”

Steve snaps, “Don't say that. What the fuck?”

Great, now he's gone and made it weird. Good job calling your straight friend hot, you fuckin’ dipshit.

They sit in the awkward silence, out of things to say or out of useful things to say. Either way it's them breathing, the clock ticking, and the M.A.S.H. rerun playing softly in the background.

Steve clears his throat. “Whatever, let's get back to the point. You don't have to tell me if you don't want but…what do you think the specific reason is for your…issue?”

He thinks about it. Has been thinking about it, for a while now. “My dick still works, if that's what you're wondering.”

Steve chuckles, high and surprised. “Good for you.”

“Yeah. It's more like, I can't get out of my head. I start worrying about my scars, explaining them if someone asked. I think about how even though I don't want anything long-term, I wouldn't be able to do long-term anyway, because I'm a fucking mess. If it's really bad, I'll get flashes of Chrissy or Patrick's bones snapping, as a little soundtrack to the fun shit happening outside my head.”

Steve looks sad again. Maybe it is pity but it looks more turned inward, like he's dealing with his own shit more than Eddie’s.

“You hooking up with strangers then?”

Eddie blinks at Steve. “Well…duh. Right? Not like I have guys lined up around the block here in Hawkins.”

Steve is full blown scowling at the TV. It's weird.

“What if-”

Eddie waits but Steve doesn't finish his thought.

“What if…what?” He prompts, giving a little nudge with his foot.

He's still avoiding eye contact, not even turning his head to look in Eddie's direction.

In a soft voice, almost too quiet to hear, he says, “What if we helped each other out?”

He must've heard that wrong. Or he's misunderstanding.

“What?”

“What if we help each other out? Like, a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

That can't be right. No fucking way. It's a test. Like as soon as Eddie agrees, Steve yells ‘Aha! I knew you wanted to molest me! Goodbye forever!’ and runs out the door.

“What, exactly, do you mean? Like, what are you getting out of it?”

Steve finally looks over. “Well, I would think that was obvious. If you're willing.”

Eddie's legs are starting to go numb.

“Okay, so I blow you and you blow me, except when you're doing it I have to watch you take it like you're being force fed liver and onions at Grandma's house?”

Steve slowly shakes his head no.

“Oh, okay, so you're going to blow me and enjoy it,” he snaps sarcasticaly.

Steve nods once.

“You want to blow me?”

“Mmhmm,” he hums without moving a muscle.

“Since when!” Eddie brings his octave down from the upper atmosphere. “Since when, Harrington? This is insane behavior. Should I call the squad for you? I'm serious. I'll do it.”

“You don't have to say yes. I was just offering.” He says it like Eddie isn't one green flag away from stomping on the gas.

He starts nervously laughing, which makes Steve flinch unfortunately, but he can't stop.

“It's cool, just forget I said anything.” He moves like he's about to get up and leave, which is fucking insane because it's his living room. Eddie stops him with a tight grip around the bicep.

“Don't you dare. If you're even remotely serious, we have to have a much longer conversation. Sit.”

Steve drops like a sack of bricks. Which is…something.

“Right. First off, this is uncommon behavior in a straight friend. Is there something you'd like to tell me, so I don't think you've been body snatched?”

He pinches at the top of his nose, like Eddie is inconveniencing him greatly. Too bad.

“I'm probably bisexual.”

“Probably?” Eddie asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm an inexperienced bisexual,” he amends through clenched teeth.

“Good. Great. Happy to hear it.” His heart may explode from his torso à la Ridley Scott's Alien but sure. “Second on the agenda, what do you mean help each other out? What's on the table? Mutual handjobs and then we never talk about it again?”

“No,” Steve answers immediately. That's good. “I'm open to…whatever you're open to.”

“Steve.” He has to clear his throat. “You dont even know what you're agreeing to.”

“I trust you.”

Fuuuuuck.

“Okay, right, uh, let's circle back to that later. Third thing, what, uh, what is your level of commitment with this?”

He just stares at Eddie, all doe eyed. It shouldn't work, Eddie fucking invented that look. It's gotten him out of more scrapes than he can count. Now it's being used against him but to what end? Does Steve want to get bundled up in a blanket and tucked into bed? Because Eddie can make that happen for him.

“Whatever you want, I guess,” he finally says. “I mean, like I said earlier, friends who help each other out. Casual. I'm not interested in looking for Mrs Harrington anymore and you're having a problem relaxing around guys who don't understand what you went through.” He makes a gesture like ‘Ta da.’

He's not wrong. It makes sense. But…

“Fourth thing. Is this just an experiment for you? Cause I'm all for you exploring your sexuality but, historically speaking, friends are a bad place to start.” AKA ‘it will break my fucking heart if you decide you're not that into it and it's because it's me.’

“Eddie. Look.” He gets more comfortable, facing Eddie straight on finally. “What you're going to provide is practical knowledge on what has only been theoretical up to this point, but the theory has already been well established.” He taps his head. “Understand?”

A smug confidence melts Eddie into the couch. “You liiike me,” he sings. “You think about me naaaked. You wanna-”

Steve lands on him, lacking any elegance or grace, and nearly caves their skulls in with his Jay Garrick approach to kissing. Eddie doesn't say a fucking word. He does wonder at the fucking majesty that is making out sober. What a revelation. Steve keeps making these tiny, almost wounded noises, to the point where Eddie tries to back up and do a check in but Steve doesn't let him, he chases him down and latches back onto Eddie's bottom lip like he's Hannibal Lector. It's stupid hot.

Everything is going great until Steve lets out a sound that legitimately has Eddie worried he's upset about something.

He pulls back and asks, “Are you okay?”

“Oh fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't, I can't believe I got this fucking far. You're so hot I'm losing my fucking mind.”

“Me?” Eddie snaps. “Dude, you're out of your mind.” He pokes Steve in his meaty chest. “Literal. Prom. King.”

“Fucking stupid high school shit, are you kidding me?” He sits up, straddling Eddie's hips, which is boner enhancing to say the least; he's got Steve's thighs in his grasp immediately. “You don't get it, I'm gone on you. I've got it bad, man. I was playing it cool earlier-”

“At no point tonight were you in any way playing it cool.”

“-but, fuck it, guess I'm ruining it, cause I can't be cool about this. I don't want casual. I don't even want to date you,” and before Eddie can even worry about that, he says, “I wanna skip straight to boyfriends, man. I know you said you didn't want long term with anyone but-”

Eddie interrupts again, this time by pulling Steve back down horizontal and kissing him like he just bravely declared himself as all in.

If this is a pod-person, well, that's a problem for Tomorrow Eddie. Tonight Eddie just landed Steve Harrington as a boyfriend.

#i might save this to flesh out later #who knows #steddie #ficlet #my writing

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munsonluhvr · 4 months

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ARE YOU MY DADDY?

synopsis; modern!older!eddie munson x college student!reader. bored with the boys at your college, you find refuge in much older Eddie Munson. warnings: (18+). age gap relationship, fingering, oral, p in v, body parts described, spit kink. word count: 3.8k authors note: I deeply apologize for this filth - my situationship pissed me off and I blew off steam by writing this...

“Just give me a chance,” Steve Harrington says, standing in the doorway of your dorm room. Behind you, your roommate Nancy Wheeler snickers, shaking her head at the poor sap that is begging for your attention for the umpteenth time.

You sigh, leaning against the door. “When are you going to give this up, Steve?”

Nervously, Steve runs a hand through his hair. “When you say yes to going out with me.”

You laugh, glancing back at Nancy to see if she’s hearing this. She sits on her bed, legs crossed, flipping through what she calls her ‘trashy magazines.’ She makes eye contact with you, rolling her eyes in an over-exaggerated fashion. “Keep dreaming, Steve. Have a good night.” You say, stepping back to let the door close in Steve’s face. You shake your head, wishing the kid would take a hint.

Steve is a classic college boy - self-absorbed with a budding alcohol addiction. He has his moments of being sweet and kind, and his infatuation with you is flattering. However, you rarely give boys your age a chance, or even a second glance. They’re boring, immature, and only looking to fuck, and not very well at that. What you look for is nurturing and care, a soft, gentle touch, which normally comes from an older man.

“He’s pathetic, y/n. All these guys at this school are just pathetic.” Nancy says, laying down on her stomach across her small, twin bed. She watches as you pass by and sit on your own bed.

You sit down on your bed, leaning over to swipe your cellphone off your bedside table. “Tell me about it, Nance.” You press the ‘on’ button on the side of your phone, the screen igniting with light in response. To your pleasure, a new, unread text message sits on your lock-screen.

Munson (1 unread message): Picking you up at 11. Be ready.

You bite your lip, unable to contain your excitement. You glance at the time on your phone; half past ten. You stand up off your bed again, beginning to rummage through your belongings to find something to wear.

“Going out?” Nancy asks, peeking up from her magazine to watch you frantically flip through your drawer of panties.

You look over your shoulder in your roommates direction, a devious smile on your mouth. “Maybe.” You find your pair of white, lace panties, the one’s you know he likes, and you pull the panties you wear down shamelessly in front of Nancy, slipping the new pair on.

Nancy sits up with interest and curiosity. “Is this the older guy?”

You giggle in response, biting at your bottom lip again. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? He’s, like, forty-something and I don’t want people asking questions.”

Nancy frowns. “Why would people ask questions? You’re of age already.”

You flap your hand in her direction, ignoring her question. “Do I look okay?” You stare at yourself in the little mirror that hangs on the wall – you know you look fucking great. Your skin glows, your summer tan still staining your skin, you have minimal makeup on, just how he likes it, with your eyelashes coated in a thick mascara. You reach out towards your nightstand, spraying a small hit of perfume on the nape of your neck.

“You look great, and you know it.” Nancy says, watching you. She shakes her head, tempted to ask her own boyfriend Jonathan to come over while you’re out.

With the few minutes that are left before 11, you change your shirt twice, trying to balance the line of being sexually appealing and innocent. Your heart thumps against your chest with excitement, seeing him never fails to make you jumpy. You slip your shoes on just as your phone blinks awake again.

Munson (1 unread message): Outside. Come out, now.

You drop your phone into your pocket of your loose pants, crossing the room to Nancy’s bed. You lean over, kissing her on the cheek. “Be back soon,” you say in a whisper, a little smile on your face. You dash away, your feet carrying you quickly.

“Make him wear protection!” Nancy yells across your room as you slip out the door, letting it shut with a thud behind you.

Like a little mouse, you scurry down the hallway of the building, passing by endless dorm-room doors. A small bubble excitement rises up your body, ready to be released at the hands of Eddie Munson.

Once you reach the end of the hallway, you push open the double doors, the chilly air blowing your loose hair around. At the back of the parking-lot, beside the large lamppost that’s placed in the middle of the lot, you see his car, the headlights on. You flip your hoodie over your head, crossing the parking lot with eagerness. You take a deep breath as you walk, your fingers trembling with anticipation. You’ve been waiting for this all week, dirty thoughts turning over and over in your mind.

As you approach the car, before you can read the handle to the passenger-side door, he pops it open by leaning across the front seat. Without hesitation, you slide into the passenger-seat.

“Hi, my princess,” Eddie says, reaching his hand out to cradle the side of your face. His long fingers brush your hair to the side, making your skin accessible. He leans forward, the smell of his cologne intoxicating you, as he presses his lips to your cheek, beginning to trail down to your collarbone. You let your eyes flutter shut, enjoying the sensation of each kiss he presses onto your body. You can’t help it – you bite at your bottom lip, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

Eddie makes his way down the length of your neck, beginning to lightly nip at your skin as he goes. “Where do you want to go this time?” He murmurs against your neck, the heat from his breath creeping against your chilled skin.

“The lake,” you mewl, barely able to form words. You let your head fall back, soaking in every warm touch of Eddie’s.

“Lover’s Lake?” Eddie asks, beginning to pull away from you. “Is that what you want?” Keeping his eyes on yours, he lets his hand creep across your thighs, settling over the thin fabric over your crotch. You nod quickly, eager for his fingers to sink into you. Eddie smiles mischievously as he watches you nod. “Then that’s where we’ll go, princess.”

With ease, Eddie ignites the car’s ignition, pulling swiftly out of the dark parking lot. He keeps his hand placed on your thigh, navigating the dark streets with one hand. You play with the hem of your shirt, eager to burn off steam and spend time with Eddie.

Eddie maneuvers his car through the dark streets, still with one hand. The pressure of his fingers on your thigh, the light feeling of his fingertips brushing your bare skin, makes the pit in your stomach grow intensely. The wild thoughts you’ve been having all week, ones where Eddie has you pressed into different positions, enters your mind once again, making your skin warm. You suddenly have the urge to pounce on Eddie, regardless of him driving, and sink your body down onto his.

You glance over at Eddie in the driver’s seat, his facial features defined only by the headlights of other cars that pass by; his jaw, the little freckles dashed across his neck catching your attention. You nearly begin to drool, your core tightening making your cunt pulse with desire. You bite at your lip until you’re sure you’re going to draw blood; you can take it no longer.

Swiftly, you lean in your seat, beginning to paw at the zipper of Eddie’s jeans. He lets out a low laugh, only intensifying your need for him. He finds your lust for him humorous, as if he knows that you sit in classrooms all day, surrounded by immature boys, thinking about his fingers and cock probing you. He lifts his arm that once laid on your thighs, placing it gently on your back. His fingers stroke the length of your spine, allowing you to maneuver his cock out of his pants.

To your pleasure, Eddie is hard. The length of his cock springs out from underneath his boxers once you pull them down. You let your hand wrap around the base of him, steadying yourself with your other hand as you lower your face, your lips enclosing onto his tip. You hum softly, the feeling of Eddie’s warm cock filling your mouth easing some of the lust that was budding within you.

In the tempo that you know he likes, you begin to bob your head up and down, taking extra time when it comes to the tip. You’ve craved Eddie for so long that you begin to drool at the sensation of him in your mouth, letting it dribble down your chin and throat. Eddie let’s his hand snake down to your ass, laying a firm spank on your thinly covered ass cheeks. Then, he allows his hand to move to the back your head, careful to not veer off to the side of the road.

“Such a good girl,” Eddie mumbles, as you lick the length of his cock with the lip of your tongue, then engulfing just his tip and pulling back to make it pop out from your lips. “You know just how I like it, don’t you?” You turn your head to the side, your head leaning against the steering wheel as you peer up at him just in time to catch him glancing at you before looking back to the road in front of him. His eyebrows are knitted together, tension beginning to brew in his abdomen.

Above you, you feel Eddie make a sharp right, feeling the tires crunch over the dirty road that leads to Lover’s Lake. You don’t let this distract you as you work with your mouth and hand to bring Eddie to the edge. Abruptly, he presses on his brake, throwing the car into park quickly. Gently, yet firmly, he laces his fingers into your hair, pulling you off his dick. You pout, feeling your head pull back and his spit-covered member slipping out of your mouth. “I’ve been thinking about this all week,” Eddie says, bringing your face close to his, his fingers still interlaced in your hair. “Don’t think this is going to be a quickie, I’m planning on taking my time with you.” Despite the hair that clings to your face, your spit making it firmly stick, you can’t help but smile, the idea of being teased by Eddie mercilessly brings adrenalin to you.

With little warning, Eddie puckers his lips, laying a fresh bundle of spit across the bridge of your nose and into your eye. “What am I?” Eddie asks, leaning back to look at the new decoration he adds to your face.

You let your eyes flutter shut, then open again, your eye blinking around his spit that begins to dribble down your cheek. “You’re my daddy,” you say softly, playing into his deepest desires. All you want to do is please him.

“Get in the back seat,” He says, letting the fistful of your hair go. He watches as you climb into the back of the car, his eyes trained on your ass. He shakes head, attempting to not get ahead of himself.

You land with a light thud in the back seat, spreading your legs open. You’re fully aware that your pants are sheer, nearly see through, and the lace edges of your panties are on full display. Eddie, too, notices this, his fingers beginning to gather the fabric of your pants and pulling them down in one swift motion.

“I wore them just for you,” you say, your eyes flickering between your bottom half and Eddie’s eyes. He groans, frustration building up inside of him all over again. He finishes maneuvering himself into the back seat beside you. You’re quick to lean over to him, connecting your lips with his.

His kiss is sweet and rough, the tension between you becoming apparent as you grab at each other’s clothing in desperate need to take it all off. His hand cradles your face again, bringing you deeper into his kiss. His tongue grazes through your lips, colliding with yours, and you moan gently at the feelings.

Little by little, your clothing begins to disappear, Eddie’s fingertips dragging across the softness of your skin causing goosebumps to rise, until you’re sitting in just your panties. You manage to get Eddie’s clothing off, until he’s down to his boxers which are already stained with your spit from earlier. Gently, he lays you down across the rest of the backseat, your body shivering at the coldness of the leather seats. You part your legs, making it easy for him to rest on top of you.

With one last swift movement, you lift Eddie’s plaid shirt over his head, revealing his tattoo-covered torso. You hum, your fingertips dragging across his lower abdomen, your mind whirling at the anticipation of his cock filling you any minute now.

Eddie settles himself over you, then lowers his face, his eyes connecting with yours. Slowly, he dips down, backing further down your body until his mouth meets the band of your panties. He places a soft kiss on your hip, then grabs your panties with the edge of his teeth, beginning to pull down slowly. He travels down the length of your thighs, ever so slowly. Your head throws back, the anticipation continuing to kill you.

Eddie pulls the rest of your panties down by hooking his fingers around your panties; finally, you’re bare for him. Your pussy is all wet for Eddie, your folds showcasing your excitement to be alone with Eddie after being away from him for over a week. Eddie notices this, taking his time to admire your slickness. You catch him admiring; “See how wet I am for you?” you ask.

“I see that, princess.” Eddie mutters, his mind occupied with the things he’s planning on doing to you. Without much warning, Eddie plunges his pointer and middle fingers into you, his mouth lowering onto your clit. You reach out, gripping the back of the passenger seat, your fingers digging into the leather. You moan loudly, your back instantly arching.

Eddie plunges his fingers in and out of you, your wetness beginning to drip down the length of his digits and the back of his hand. He works to work against you with his tongue, the tip maneuvering it’s way around your clit in a way that sends you reeling; you wish you could slow down this moment, capture it in a bottle, for when you’re all alone and missing Eddie.

“Do you like that?” He mumbles; his eyes flick up to meet yours. You nod, parting your mouth to speak but nothing comes out except a soft sigh. That response in enough for Eddie.

Around Eddie’s head, your thighs begin to quiver, jolts of pleasure causing your abdomen to tense and then release when another wave of pleasure arrives. You feel your chest tighten, your skin heat up, and despite the cool, chilly weather, beads of sweat beginning to collect at your hairline. You roll your hips in response to Eddie’s touch, but Eddie stays placed firmly against you, his arms slightly tightening to keep him in place. He loves the taste of you, the way he watches your body crumple under his touch, and he, too, wishes he could slow the moment down.

Eddie has always been attentive to your body, wanting to know the intricacies of how you receive pleasure, how you give it. In this way, he’s learned your ques, however subtly they may be, and he knows when you’re close when your legs tighten around his head, your back beginning to lift off the seat. He slows his mouth movement to a slower pace before he pulls away. Due to his lack of touch, your body slumps back onto the leather seats, your fingertips lightening their grip on the seats.

You sit up on your elbows, a small pout staining your mouth. You reach out, the flatness of your hand palming at the crotch of his boxers before you let your fingertips tug against the waistband of his boxers. Eddie smirks, before pulling his boxers off, letting his cock spring out. Even against the darkness, you can see a small bead of pre-cum beginning to dribble off the tip of his cock. You bite your lip at the sight, the need for Eddie increasing.

“How bad do you want it?” Eddie asks, taking his cock into his hand, positioning himself against you. In a slow pace, he begins to brush his tip against your entrance. You moan softly, your eyes beginning to roll into the back of your skull. “Bad. So bad,” you mumble, your mind beginning to draw a blank. “I need you so bad, Eddie, I’ve been waiting all week to see you, to feel you.”

Eddie groans, your words bringing him to the brink with ease. He has had plenty of partners in the past, but none have ever drove him crazy like you do. He finds that you’re constantly on his mind, and he’s unable to shake the thought of you on your knees, your mouth full of his cock, spit dribbling down your chin. So many times, he has had to pause wherever he was: grocery store bathroom, at work, in his car on his way home, and stroke himself to the thought of you.

With ease, he pushes himself into you, gasping at the way your body stretches to accommodate his size. You mewl, your legs automatically moving to tighten around his waist, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, bringing him closer to your body. He starts out slow with his strokes, and then picks up his pace.

Your sighs and soft moans fill the silence within the car, the windows beginning to fog from your body heat. Eddie’s body rocks against yours, pleasure coursing through your torso. His cock thrusts into you, each stroke stretching you out, causing a little pain in addition to the pleasure.

With your head thrown back, Eddie takes the opportunity to kiss the length of your neck, his teeth nipping at your soft skin. His hands travel up your sides, his fingers intertwining with your hands and holding them above your head, against the car door. Your fingers enclose on his hand, squeezing gently as your eyes squeeze shut with the pleasure that runs through your body. When he gets to your collarbone, he offers one last kiss before burying his face into your neck.

You begin to feel a knot forming in your lower abdomen, the sensation building with each stroke Eddie gives you. “Eddie,” you whimper, the pleasure overtaking your body. “You feel so good.”

“Am I making you feel good?” Eddie asks back, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck.

You nod, your hair falling into your face. “So good.”

Eddie leans back, leaning on his hands, to get a look at your face. He notices how your hair has fallen and uses his fingertips to brush your hair to the side. He smiles softly, the dark light playing on your features beautifully. “You’re so pretty,” Eddie mumbles, his eyes grazing across your face. “Do you know that?” You feel your cheeks flush, your skin heating up in reaction to his compliment. You nod gently, thinking about all the times he’s told you how attractive you are. You’ve been told all your life that you’re beautiful, but only Eddie’s compliments are what matters to you.

You let your arms lace around Eddie’s upper body, your thighs clamping on to his waist. Your heart thumps against your chest, the sensation of Eddie moving slowly between your legs causing you to become light-headed. Each stroke, he massages the knot building in your lower abdomen, bringing you closer and closer to finishing. Above you, Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, his eyebrows knitted together once more. “F-Fuck,” he mumbles.

Your fingertips dig into the flesh of his back, expressing the pleasure coursing through you. “I’m close, Eddie,” you mumble, your words coming out in a stammer. You whimper again, your teeth clenching together in response.

With a sudden movement, Eddie leans back, using his upper-body strength to pull you up from the back seat and flip you on to your hands and knees. Before you can comprehend that you’ve switched positions, he inserts himself into you, bending his upper body over the length of your back. His tattooed arm snakes around the front of you, his arm fastening around your neck so that your chin is resting in the crook of his arm. You exhale, tension building within your limbs that tremble.

“Say that you need me,” Eddie says, his voice a low hum next to your ear.

“I need you s-so bad, Eddie,” you whimper, your breath leaving your body.

His arm loosens around you, your body slumping forward onto the seat, leaving your rear positioned in the air. Eddie grasps your hips, plunging himself deep into you. After a minute, Eddie removes one of his hands from your waist, placing it on the back of your skull. He leans forward slightly, applying a little weight onto his hand. He quickens his stroke pace, nearly rutting into you. You can tell Eddie is close as he mumbles ‘you’re so tight, baby,’ over and over.

His pace causes tears to form your eyes, and you bite your lip as you take each stroke he gives you.

Behind you, you feel Eddie begin to slow his pace, his movements becoming rigid. It’s not until he pushes himself all the way into you, a grunt escaping his lips. “Fuck, y/n,” Eddie says, his voice coming out drowsy. You feel your cunt fill with his cum, and it begins to dribble down the inside of your thighs. In response to Eddie finishing inside of you, something that turns you on, you finish too, hard, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

Your bodies are sticky with sweat, the windows of the car completely fogged over now. You’re out of breath, your body working hard to recover. Eddie reaches out, moving to cradle you against his body. His fingers interlace in your hair, lifting it off your sweaty back. “You were such a good girl for me,” Eddie says gently, an approving smile on his face.

You smile softly back, nodding. “Just for you.”

Eddie pouts jokingly, a playful look now appearing on his face. “Just for me? I’m sure you have the boys going wild at school.”

You shake your head, knowing that Eddie is well versed in your opinions of the boys at school, “Only you.” Eddie nods approvingly, snaking his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. He places a kiss on the top of your head and in that moment you catch a whiff of his Old Spice cologne. You smile to yourself, pleased with how the night has gone while looking out the front of the window shield, the bright moon glaring back at you; “You are my daddy after all.”

#stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic

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hotyanderedaddies · 8 months

Text

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 3:

Hiding from the Yandere School Bully

Part 1 │ Part 2

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You left the classroom, purposefully leaving your phone behind so that Blake couldn’t contact or track you.

The bully had legit downloaded a tracking app onto your phone that required a passcode only he knew to uninstall.

“Nuh-uh,” you mumbled to yourself as you hurried down the halls, trying to think up a game plan.

Blake had made it clear that he wanted you all to himself, and that was something that you absolutely could not allow.

He’d even sent you a list of rules that he expected you to follow— the most egregious being that he expects you to call him “Daddy” tonight!

What the F?!

Well, sure the rest were pretty bad, but that last one was the one that had made you both shiver and cringe at the same time.

All morning, you’d been confused over why Blake was following you around and seemingly forcing you to be around him, but it was slowly dawning on you that it was horrifyingly possible that Blake wanted you. Romantically.

Just you.

Every single survival instinct within your body screamed at you to get as far away from Blake as possible. There was no way that you wanted to be his.

To reiterate: He’s the school bully, and you’re the biggest nerd on campus.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce that that wasn’t the best combo in the world… and it seemed to end very badly for you specifically.

You didn’t have a solid plan in mind, especially with your nerves on high alert. Every single little sound that echoed out in the hallway made you jump, and you felt like you were on the verge of a total meltdown. Eventually, you decided to hide in the safest place on campus where no one ever goes: the library.

You went to your usual secluded corner where the manga section was, and hid tucked away behind the shelves and a large potted plant that shielded you from view. You were safe… you hoped.

Now just to figure out how to hide throughout the rest of the school day… and then next week, and the rest of the school year after that.

“Darn it,” you sighed, rubbing at your temples to soothe your growing headache.

You did some homework and read up on some further assignments as you stayed hidden, hearing the bell ring, signaling that it was time to go to second period—

And also meaning that Blake was on his way to your first period to escort you.

And he wouldn’t find you.

And he’d be pissed.

Out of instinct, your breath got caught in your throat and you could feel your heartbeat starting to race. Even though you owed Blake absolutely nothing at all, you were fearful about what could potentially happen to you with three strikes.

Hence, you knew that the safest/smartest thing for you to do would be to stay in the safe confines of the library for the rest of the day—

“Y/N?” the librarian asked, knowing you personally since you frequented the bookshelves a lot. “Shouldn’t you be heading to second period?”

“O-oh, yeah,” you stammered, unable to come up with a good excuse since you’re a horrible liar. “R-right.”

Feeling defeated, you slumped out of the safe library and entered the crowded hallways. Like all transition times, the hallways were tightly packed with students, shoulder-to-shoulder. It seemed like they could possibly shield you from a certain bully’s eyes.

Ducking low, you tried to sneak to your next class as best as you could. You were able to stay low and avoid detection. A little ounce of hope began to form deep within your gut, and for a brief moment, you truly believed that everything would be okay and that the whole mess from today would be nothing more than a sour memory that you’d grimace at whenever it’d flicker into your head—

“Hey! Y/N!” called a familiar, deep voice.

You winced at first, but then let out a sigh of relief when you saw none other than Jonathan approaching you.

Jonathan was the happy-go-lucky quarterback on the football team. He smiled warmly at you, and gave you a tiny wave… and truth be told, you couldn’t help but smile back the slightest bit when his grin reached your eyes. Yeah, he might be a little cute (but you’d never, ever try since your lack of a self-esteem prohibits you from asking people out). You kinda wished that it was Jonathan, and not Blake, who wanted you. Jonathan was actually nice to people!

“We still on for our tutoring session tonight?” Jonathan asked as soon as he was by your side.

Oh! You’d totally forgotten, given all of the turmoil from today. You’d promised the football player that you’d help him study for his upcoming Physics final. As his way of paying you, the two of you would often meet up at a coffee shop or little restaurant, and he’d pay for your meal.

The lonely part of you would sometimes pretend it was date. Sad? Yes. But still.

You were about to nod when the cold memory of Blake’s eerie text replayed in your mind. He’d strictly prohibited you from talking to other guys. Although, technically you were breaking that rule now by talking to Jonathan; and it’s not like you owed the school bully a gosh darn thing. But still, you didn’t want him mad at you! And going out to tutor the quarterback of the football team would definitely piss off Blake!

Wait…

The quarterback of the football team had requested your company.

The quarterback of the football team who worked out religiously and had muscles for days, and who could probably throw down with Blake need the situation arise (which you bet it would).

“Yes!” you eagerly said, blushing a little bit at how desperate you sounded. “Of course we’re still on.” You nervously looked around the crowded hallway, nearly shrieking in horror at what you saw:

Blake stood at the other end of the hallway, his eyes narrowed in your direction. His gaze kept switching between the petrified you and the oblivious Jonathan.

“Y/N? You okay?” Jonathan innocently asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Something like that.

“Um,” you muttered in your shaky voice, which grew even more shaky as soon as Blake began to shove himself through the crowd towards you, “you know what? I actually have a free period now! So, why don’t we start the tutoring now!”

You grabbed a tight hold of Jonathan’s forearm and led the confused jock through the hallway, away from Blake as fast as you could.

“Sure…?” Jonathan agreed, sounding confused beyond belief.

The two of you quickly exited the school and reached his car in the parking lot, which you eagerly hopped into. You locked the door behind you and held your breath in anticipation, refusing to exhale until Jonathan started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Your relief was short lived, however, as you saw Blake staring daggers at you as you were driven away. He looked pissed off beyond recognition, and he held up his hand, holding up three fingers.

Strike three.

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

P.S. the following have requested that I tag them in this update as of the posting of this! Thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this part! @mfnqueen1 @myconglomerateromance @floresialwrld @thewanderinglich @type-ink @springkuinn @guiltyconfessions @albino-absol @ju1yyyzzz @randomlyblues @greensunflowerjuna @0sassyspice0 @msvanillabean @evan-trand @eoryn-shit @jcrml @problematicreblogger @peonysposts @monstercanking @chocolatequeengiver @misspercy @pato-spoiler-27 @v-sh @wpdarlingpan @gay4letti @trashpandaas @neverlandlostchild @zoleea-exultant @angelkazusstuff @queenmimis @shadowkitty-me @mihawksdemoness @sarcastic-cookie @y0urm0m12 @m-winchester-67 @caged-birdies-blog @justatimidcreator @wonderlandwitchhera @sheanneezz @whatamidoing89

#blake the bully #yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #Blake #my oc #bad boy x nerd #yandere bad boy #bad boy

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fantasylandloser · 1 year

Text

marriage pact pt.2

summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship

Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom

part 1

*****

“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.

You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment.

The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step.

“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.

“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.

“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.

You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.

“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.

“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap.

You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly.

“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.

“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.

“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him.

“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.

“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings.

“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.

“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened.

“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate.

“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence.

“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically.

“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.

“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.

“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”

Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people.

“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore.

“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly.

“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.

“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.

“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.

“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.

“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes.

“Fucking tease.”

*****

Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want.

Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.

“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced.

“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up.

Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief.

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind of girl.

You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.

“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea.

You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.

“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet.

“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..

After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.

Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.

You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.

“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still.

When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.

You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.

You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly.

And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience.

After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing.

Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening.

“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you.

“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your folds.

“Steve” You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you.

“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this.

He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.

“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.

You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.

When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.

He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair.

Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.

You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you.

“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.

“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.

“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.

“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.

“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says.

“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.

“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.

******

“Dude, why are you staring at me?” Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring.

“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.

“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.

‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin.

“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.

“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.

“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it.

“Always?” He asked, to which you nod.

“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness. “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”

“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.

“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed.

His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.

“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair.

When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring.

“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.

“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap.

“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again.

“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said.

You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.

“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.

“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life.

“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that.

Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she’s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained. If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story.

‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.

“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness.

You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.

“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”

“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.

Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter.

*****

tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986

p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why

#fantasylandloserfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things

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lighthouseas · 1 month

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stranger things would've been funny as a mockumentary. like imagine will just bitchily looking into the camera as he watches mike and el being disgustingly "in love" at the airport or whatever. cut to him doing his interview. "im gay, okay? is it obvious now? and yes, as a gay person, i do find it sickening when my best friend kisses my foster sister." he lowers his voice to a whisper and looks behind him, where mike and el are still talking out of earshot. "id even go as far as to call it homophobic, but using that word here would probably be dangerous for me. so let's just say it's gross."

cut to mike doing his interview "yeah so uh...hugging will was weird, i guess." he scratches the back of his head and sighs. "and kissing el also felt weird. but like, that's fine. being on an airplane makes your brain do weird shit, you know? like with the food tasting different? that's gotta be it." he seems satisfied with this conclusion and smiles. "el's lips felt weird and chapped and cold and gross because i was on an airplane, and will, uh, his arms felt- different, because, uh, ummm- there's gotta be some scientific explanation for that, right? why are you guys looking at me like that?"

the camera cuts to el looking at her flowers that say "from mike" and then at the camera. cut to el's interview. she's holding mike's flowers and looks completely over it. "i am constantly on the verge of crying. mike does not need to know that, though." she forces a smile at the camera and twirls her hair.

cut to argyle, hugging mike and looking straight at the camera as he does. his interview. "listen, im like, totally zonked out right now, but man, that little wheeler kid was acting mad weird, man. little bro needs some weed. and new threads, i tag checked him when i hugged him."

cut to jonathan, staring at the camera with wide eyes. jonathan's interview. "oh, mike? yeah, i think i need to kill that guy."

#im watching abbott rn and i just think that this format would be hilarious for stranger things #imagine possessed will just staring at the camera and being like “im normal :))) look how normal i am😁😁😁😁😁😁”#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper #jonathan byers #argyle #bee.txt

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stevesbipanic · 1 month

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@steddieangstyaugust Day 27: "I thought we agreed it was over."

Eddie saw Steve's beemer pull up outside the trailer before he heard the knock at the door. The words were already leaving his lips as he opened it, "I thought we agreed it was over."

It had hurt, the break up, but Eddie had been expecting it. He knew Steve would never be his forever no matter how much he wanted him to be. It was all too easy for him to push back the tears and agreed when Steve said things like it was for the best and that they'd never work.

He had tried not to think about all the times Steve had said how much he loved how they were different, that it meant they got to share things with the other person. How Steve whispered love confessions when he thought Eddie was asleep weeks before he was brave enough to voice them in the daylight.

It was over, and that was that, so why was Steve here?

The sentence fizzled out though when he took in Steve's features. A quickly blackening swollen eye, a split lip, knuckles bruised and bleeding. Steve was trying to hold his side while also tightly gripping the backpack on his other shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

Eddie hadn't heard from Steve in months besides the occasional update from the kids or a glance at him from hellfire pick ups. The sound of those words made him realise how much he had missed Steve's voice despite how broken it now sounded.

All the hurt he'd felt melted away, stored for a later time when Steve wasn't swaying so much, when his face wasn't so pale. Eddie gently guided him inside, taking the backpack and placing it on the couch before leading Steve to the bathroom.

He methodically cleaned up his cuts and checked his ribs and tried not to think about the fact that the doctor said Steve shouldn't risk another concussion. He got Steve a change of clothes and sat him upright on the bed.

"Can't sleep yet, sweetheart, got to make sure your heads ok for awhile, alright?"

Steve's eyes became misty again, "Didn't think I'd ever hear you call me that again, Eds. I'm so sorry."

Eddie took Steve's less injured hand in his, gently stroking the back of it, "What happened, Steve?"

The question didn't help the tears that now seemed to flow freely down Steve's cheeks, "I thought if I broke up with you I could keep you safe, keep the both of us safe."

Eddie's grip tightened slightly, "Stevie."

"I was stupid I should've given the box of stuff from you to Robin or someone but I wanted to keep a piece of you close, and he, he found a picture of the two of us, the one Jonathan took at your birthday party."

Eddie knew the picture, it was his favourite, he still kept it tacked to his wall, didn't have the heart to take it down and put it with every other part of Steve that now sat in a box under his bed. Jonathan had caught the exact moment Steve kissed him while he cut his cake, they looked so happy, they were happy.

Eddie could infer the rest, "Your dad did this then?"

Steve nodded, "Kicked me out too, I'm sorry I would've gone to Dustin's but he's at his grandparents and Robin is at college and I just." Eddie pulls Steve closer, "I'm glad you came here, baby, you're safe here." Steve seems to finally relax at those words, like he'd been holding his breath since the day they'd parted.

"I didn't mean anything I said, Eddie," Steve cried.

Eddie gave Steve a sad smile. "I know, let's talk about all that later, just rest now I'll wake you up in a little bit to check your head again," Eddie said pushing Steve softly down onto the bed. They had a lot to discuss, a lot of hearts to mend but for now Eddie just needed Steve to be ok.

"Will you stay?"

"As long as you need me."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddieangstyaugust #angst #teary tuesday #it was over

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ashwhowrites · 4 months

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Alright! So, Steve and Reader was in that stage when they're about to become a couple but then Nancy showed that on/off interest again and Steve pushed reader away. Nancy turned out to just feel lonely due to Jonathan being in California and didn't mean anything.

Steve now nurses hopes that Reader will give him another chance. Until he finds out through the grapewine (walkies) that Reader got dosed at a party but she called Eddie for help and he took her to the hospital.

And when Steve arrives, all hurt because she called Eddie and not him, she and Eddie is hugging and them finally telling each other they are in love. Leaving Steve standing there, contemplating what he's lost

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Runaway girl

Y/N and Steve were the hot new gossip around the town. People were shocked to hear that Steve was finally moving on from his past with Nancy. Many people didn't think it was possible, but Steve had his head turned and stuck on Y/N.

Y/N was happier than ever. She always had a soft spot for Steve, and with his pretty looks, it didn't take long to fall at his feet. She had been patient and waiting for the day they could be official. But she knew Steve needed time.

She wasn't sure how much time was too much time. After four months of dating, kissing, and being together, she thought he would ask by now. Doubt filled her the longer Steve didn't ask.

While Steve took his time, he was unaware of someone who didn't need time to figure out his feelings.

Eddie had his eyes set on Y/N for the last few months. Of course, to his luck, she was hooked on Steve's arm. Eddie knew there was no way he could beat out the pretty boy of Hawkins. So he settled for a friendship and kept his feelings to himself.

But he couldn't help but wonder what Steve's problem was, and why he dragged his feet. If Y/N was anywhere near into Eddie, he would have made the move before anyone else could. But it was Steve, and he probably knew no one would step on his toes.

~~~

Steve sat in his backyard, sharing a cigarette with Nancy. She popped over and Steve was never one to turn her down. He liked when she wanted to talk to him when she wanted to be in his presence. Truthfully, a part of him refused to give up on her, on them. He had this glimmer of hope that they were still tied together and that would help them find each other again.

"You and Y/N have been dating a while, gonna capitalize on that?" Nancy asked, exhaling the smoke as she passed the stick over.

Steve shrugged and inhaled the cigarette, wishing it would answer for him.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

Nancy nodded, a knowing look in her eyes

"How are you and Jonathan?" Steve asked, passing the stick back to her. He watched as her lips formed around the cigarette and her body intake the smoke.

She shrugged, "I don't know. I think we might break up."

Steve saw his glimmer of hope expanding right before his eyes

"How come?"

"The distance is so hard. I just think of when you and I were together. How easy it was to be in the same state and town." She sighed, her eyes looking into Steve's wanting ones.

Steve got lost in the familiar look in her eyes

"Too bad someone else has your attention now," she whispered before she looked away.

~~~

Y/N sighed as she dialed the familiar number

It rang once before he picked up

"Munson"

"Hey it's me, could you pick me up?" Y/N asked as she looked around the diner

"Deadbeat not show again?" Eddie said, he sounded annoyed and he deserved to be. He always had to pick her up when Steve decided to bail. "Where are you?" He asked, already grabbing his keys.

Eddie pulled up to see her sitting on the curb. She wore a simple shirt with jeans, but she was breathtaking.

She stood up once he parked. But he was already walking towards her. He opened his arms and she wrapped her arms around him. She held back her tears as she felt comfort in his warmth.

"Hungry?" He asked, his voice muffled in her hair

He felt her nod against his chest

"Well I know this great place and it's not too far away. Wanna join me?" He asked

She pulled back and smiled. Her heart skipped as he smiled back at her. Throughout all the pain Steve caused, Eddie was the one who healed her. She felt something towards him, something she wished she and Steve could have.

She accepted his hand and laughed when he walked them through the diner doors.

"Thanks for always helping me out," Y/N said, shyly looking up from her burger

"When are you going to push him to the curb? He's been toying with you for the past few weeks." Eddie sighed. It hurt him as much as it hurt her. But Steve would always be pulled in Nancy's direction.

"It's hard, Eddie. I put in so much work for him and me to work out, I struggle to just give up on it." Y/N sighed

"Listen, I'm saying this as a friend. I really care about you, and he doesn't. He doesn't love you and he's not going to. It'll forever be Nancy. And you deserve to be treasured for being you. You beat Nancy in my book any day." Eddie said as he reached forward and held her free hand.

"I'll never be her," Y/N said sadly

"And you don't need to be her to be loved."

Y/N looked up at Eddie and gave him a small smile. He was right, she could find someone who loved her for her

And he was sitting across from her

~~~

Y/N wasn't sure why she attended the party. She wasn't one to get trashed on the weekends but Eddie was busy and she didn't want to be alone.

Her life had picked up ever since she gave up on Steve. He wanted to push her away so she made it easier. Eddie was what she needed and boy did she want him. He was gorgeous, inside and out.

His humor always made her laugh, she never felt sad around him. His smile froze her in the spot but made her stomach flutter when he pressed it against her lips. It's been months and months of feeling wanted and loved. But she found herself in that same spot, wondering when they'd speak about their feelings and make it official.

With all that on her mind, she needed a way to let loose. She planned one drink or two. But somehow the first drink had her thrown off. She could feel her skin melting in sweat, her head pounded and she felt the need to throw up everything she ever ate.

She found the closest phone and dialed someone she knew would show up.

Steve sat on his couch as he ate a slice of pizza. The gang was eating a quick dinner before the boys would leave for hellfire, Dustin was already with Eddie. Which bugged Steve, but whatever. Nancy wasn't around, she went to California to save her relationship. Leaving Steve an idiot once more.

"HELLFIRE CANCELED. Y/N IS IN THE HOSPITAL"

Steve's ears rang as the walkie traveled through the living room. Panic in everyone's eyes are they flew off the couch.

Steve felt like he was transported to the hospital, he barely remembered leaving his house. He knew he just had to get to her. He felt anxiety taking over as he raced through the halls. He never worried about losing her, but now it was all he feared.

He found her room but froze as Eddie sat on the chair next to her. He zoned in on their hands intertwined and how close his face was to hers.

When the fuck did that happen?

"I'm so glad you called me. Happy you are safe and with me." Eddie said, Steve felt the blow to his chest. She called Eddie? Since when did she have Eddie's number.

"I was so scared and all I wanted was for you to be there." Y/N cried, the events still creating tears in her eyes. Eddie pulled her into a hug. Squeezing her tight to remind her he was there now

"I love you so much, and I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here." She sobbed

Steve felt his heart tug

He was so lost in making sure Nancy wouldn't leave, he forgot that Y/N could too. He figured he'd win her back like he always did. A sorry smile and puppy eyes, saying he won't do it again. But they both knew he would.

"I love you too,"

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat as they shared a tearful kiss

"Oh good you're here!" Dustin said relieved as he ran into Steve, standing outside her door.

"I'm just leaving" Steve snapped as he walked out.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites #steve harrigton x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve Harrington angst #steve Harrington angst x reader #steve harrington requests

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anthotneystark · 2 months

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I wanna reach out and grab ya

(edit: now on ao3!)

In the aftermath, as the dust settles, the world shakes.

He expects it, but it still catches him off balance.

He leans against the ambulance, brushes off Nancy’s comment about him needing medical care. Jonathan gives him a look like he wants to call him out on it, but he lets it go. He’s not sure how long he’s been awake, but he knows that if either of them really pressed him, he’d fold like a paper bag.

You know, easily but with a decent amount of noise.

It’s all he can do to keep upright, using the cool metal door to help. The world doesn’t exactly feel steady, but he took a few hits to the head and he’s sure that’s not helping. There’s a ringing in his ears, his sides ache, his face burns, and he’s not altogether sure how long he’s been awake. He’s sure it’s been somewhere along the lines of too long. He’s not looking forward to going home, not when all he’s got waiting there is a cold, empty house. His parents won’t be back for a few more weeks.

Even if there’s a part of him, a big part if he can admit it, that desperately wants his mom to be there, he’s not going to call and ask for her. He’s supposed to be an adult now, he’s supposed to be growing up, he can’t call for her.

Even if it stings a little, watching other people reuniting with their families.

He loses track of time a little, and is only snapped out of it when he’s dragged into a hug. It’s tight, warm, and so gentle for how fierce it is. He reflexively hugs back before he puts it all together, before he recognizes that it’s Claudia Henderson. She’s saying something, but he can’t really hear it because he’s too busy trying to catch up on what exactly is happening. When she pulls back, she either repeats it or it’s a different question.

Robin answers before he can.

“Yeah, Steve’s gonna stay with me tonight.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, dingus, remember?”

“Right, yeah, I’m staying with her tonight.” Except. “How are we getting to your place? I lost my keys,” he adds.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’ll take you,” Claudia says. A godsend, really, always. He’s going to need to get new keys entirely given that his have probably been melted by the fire, but he can’t tell her that.

Robin sticks to his side as they go to the car, her hand slides into his and he holds on tight. He doesn’t let go until they’re in her house, after the quiet car ride where he almost dozed off a dozen times. Her parents are at work, both on the night shift at the moment, so it’s just them. Convenient, given that they’re probably going to wake up screaming at some point. She shoves him into the bathroom first and he uses her strawberry shampoo and doesn’t bother to even attempt anything resembling his usual process for cleaning up.

While she takes her turn, he pulls on the clothes she set out. A Hawkins Band tee shirt that’s a little tight and a pair of gym shorts that are probably bigger than his own. He’s almost dozing when she starts messing with his hair, helping to dry it without him even noticing she’d finished her shower. It’s more a nervous movement than anything, but it feels nice.

“We’re going to need to keep some of your clothes here, you know.”

“Why?”

“So you have something to wear, obviously.”

Obviously. Because he’s going to stay with her sometimes. He should have her clothes at his place too then, even if he’s perfectly willing to let her raid his closet. He likes the idea though, the plan to mesh themselves together already. He’s never had anyone in his life who’s made themselves at home in his heart this quickly.

He’s not sure when he drifts off, when she tugs him the rest of the way onto the bed, when she pulls the blanket up, only distantly feels the way she leans into him, the way he reflexively curls into her.

She feels like she’s always been here with him and he can’t figure out how he lived without her.

----------

Robin is perfect.

Not like, literally, and it’s not the same as when he’d say it about Nancy.

That’s the other thing that he figures out with her. He’s really not in love with Nancy. He’d said it, but it really sinks in later. It sinks in the first time they talk about romance, as he tries to give her flirting advice while she laughs at him and asks if he needs a new whiteboard.

They do mingle their closets too, as planned. She still steals his clothes, and he ends up wearing her tee shirts more than his own. She takes him thrifting and shows him all her secrets and he teaches her the art of negotiation in stores.

(She’s in awe when he talks down a sales clerk over a stain that he then magics away in the laundry room at his house.)

He shows her how he learned to cook and she helps him to get creative with new ideas. She demands the first bite every time, and he’s happy to share it.

Her parents welcome him though. Her mom teaches him more about first aid than he learned lifeguarding, and her dad teaches him more about cars in his spare time. He’d known some, but it’s nice, being taught instead of just figuring things out on his own through trial and error. It doesn’t take long for him to get fully intermingled in the Buckley family and it’s the most love he’s ever felt.

Somewhere between the whiteboard and that first night spent sharing a bed, they become SteveAndRobin. Somewhere between her mom finishing her shift and finding them curled up on the couch watching cartoons (because after being exposed to terrifying monsters and soldiers, cartoons are necessary) and her dad coming home to find all three of them wrapped up in it, he finds out he fits perfectly in this space.

Somewhere between the first family dinner and the start of the school year, he unofficially becomes a Buckley.

Sitting there in the hospital waiting room, collapsed into a chair because he’s never felt this exhausted, with Robin at one side and Dustin at the other, with Erica and Lucas whispering with Nancy, with Eddie and Max in surgery, he feels it all building up. All the feelings he’d tried to push down, the fear and panic and pain, bubbling up to the surface. He’s not really looking where his eyes are aimed, not even paying attention until Robin is forcing his heavy, aching limbs up and toward an empty room. She gives him a look as she leaves him on the bed and he’s not even confused about her leaving him there to go back to the waiting room because it’s better if she stays with Dustin anyway.

Except then the door is opening again, with a familiar and welcome sight stepping in.

And then it’s all too much.

Those emotions bubble over with a half-sobbed “Mom” and then arms are around him, holding him together as he splinters into a million pieces.

His mother smells like expensive perfume, floral and chemical and strong. But Betty Buckley smells like antiseptic and cinnamon and it’s the most comforting smell in the world right then.

She doesn’t question the grime or blood staining his clothes, doesn’t try to get him to tell her what happened, just holds him because he can’t break in front of the kids, can’t let them see how much he’s struggling right now. He needs this, is the thing. He hasn’t really broken down yet because he has to be the strong one, he has to be tough, even if it kills him, but she’s safe. She’s safe enough for him to let go.

She lets him get it all out, and still doesn’t ask anything. It doesn’t really matter, not at the moment, so she just brushes his hair off his forehead, uses a damp cloth to wipe away some of the dirt, helps him to pull on scrubs before halting that process to treat his back and arms and sides and neck. He’s gone a little numb, but she moves quick anyway. And then he’s on his back, an IV hooked into his hand, and she’s pressing a kiss to his forehead and telling him to rest.

So he does.

It’s not a conscious decision, more like he was just waiting for someone to tell him he could.

When he wakes, Robin is in the bed next to him. Dustin is on a rolling cot against the wall. He knows without knowing that Max is down the hall, Lucas and Erica are with her, and Nancy is probably bossing around everyone in that way she does that he can’t help respecting. He doesn’t stay awake long.

----------

He’s going stir crazy.

There’s a lot of mixed feelings. On one hand, he’s slept a lot. On the other, the town is a little broken. Robin and Dustin are volunteering, and he’ll join them when he can get out there, but Richard Buckley is under strict orders to keep him from making an escape. The plant has been temporarily shut down, and he’s a glass half-full kind of guy, but it’s really inconvenient for Steve’s desire to be out of the hospital.

He still loves him though, really.

He finally gets a window when Rich steps out for real food.

(It had been hilarious when he and Robin established their dads are both “Richard”, but while Steve’s dad thinks shortening it sounds ridiculous, Robin’s dad loves to give himself new short names at every opportunity. The week he wanted to go by Chard was a fun week.)

He goes for the door, playing nonchalant, and is dismayed to find someone sitting outside.

“He told me you’d try and escape,” the man says, not looking up from his newspaper.

“I’m not escaping,” he lies.

“Humor me.” The man looks over at him then and Steve has to bite back his surprise. “Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your last name isn’t Buckley.”

“It’s not.”

“Then why have I been hearing for months about Ritchie’s boy?”

“Technically I am that.”

“Not the right one though.”

“No, but that’s sematics.”

“You’re missing an ‘n’ there, son.” The correction is gentle, carrying the tone of someone who’s used to reminding someone else of little details. For some reason, it doesn’t sting like it did when other people corrected him.

“Right, yeah.”

“You had a bit of blood loss, I hear. Maybe you should lay back down again.”

“I can’t. There’s…people are out there and need help. Other people got hurt worse than me. I can’t just lay here and do nothing.”

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re recovering.”

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like you are,” he half mumbles, and god, it’s so familiar it aches.

“I don’t know why you’re focused on keeping me in bed. You of all people should be fine with me going out there to help out.” There’s a beat of silence, where Steve thinks he maybe overstepped, getting just a sigh in return.

“Maybe. But I know damn well how important you are to a friend of mine and he asked for a favor. I’m not about to let him down.”

“Mr. Munson –”

“Wayne.”

“…Wayne. You should go back to Eddie. He needs you more.”

“He’s got a visitor already. I’m not hovering.”

“I think you’re hovering a bit here.”

“Well opinions are like assholes, son. Everyone’s got one.” It’s enough to startle a laugh out of him, as Wayne stands up and ushers him back into the room. He didn’t notice while he was standing there as the pain in his muscles, the itching of the scabs, the exhaustion in his bones, creeps back up on him. He protests, but doesn’t really fight as he’s nudged back into the too firm mattress.

“Get some more rest, kid. Long days are coming, take advantage while you can.”

----------

“I just don’t get it!”

“Is he still talking about this?”

Robin’s groan is the only answer he needs. Dustin, back on his usual arguments after saving the world again, is expanding his hobby. Now he’s not just bugging Steve and Robin about their love life (love lives?), he’s dragging others in on the argument too.

“Dusty-buns, you seem to be awful involved in this,” Eddie teases. “Maybe you have a crush on Robin.” She makes a face, throws a marshmallow at him, and Steve snorts as he cackles.

“No! I just don’t know why they won’t date! Eddie, back me up on this,” Dustin says. “They’re perfect for each other! They laugh at the same jokes, share clothes all the time, and don’t even argue, Steve, I’ve seen her wear your jeans before and you’ve worn her sweaters. They share food with each other, spend all their time together, and they share chapstick!”

“Hey, we don’t spend all our time together! Sometimes I wait for her to bike to my house.”

“Not helping, babe.”

“See!” Dustin is probably seconds from losing his marbles, and Steve really should put him out of his misery, but it’s too funny still.

“You’re missing some key information, boy-genius,” Eddie says.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that they’re never going to date.”

“That’s what doesn’t make sense!”

“Robin, pass me our chapstick,” Steve says, just to make Dustin a little more insane.

“You had it last. Steven, did you lose our chapstick?”

“I definitely gave it back to you.”

“Here you go,” Eddie says, tossing the little tube to Steve with a grin. Dustin’s eyes dart between the three of them like he’s just gotten new information.

“Eddie. Are you…dating Robin?”

It’s Steve’s turn to groan, and he doesn’t need to look to see the face Robin is making.

“Jesus Christ, Henderson, Eddie is dating me!” Now he’s silent. And Steve is going to panic if he stays silent.

“Huh. That makes a lot of sense. You were weirdly jealous.”

“I was what? No I wasn’t!”

“You kind of were,” Robin adds.

“And it makes sense why you wouldn’t date Robin, who is literally perfect for you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re just friends.”

“Yeah, and I could be literally perfect for him, pipsqueak,” Eddie says, grabbing one of Robin’s marshmallows to throw at him.

“You and Robin are still weirdly codependent, it has to be said,” Dustin insists, batting away Eddie’s attempts to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you get psychically linked to each other. Get used to it, Henderson.”

“You’re what?!” Eddie and Dustin’s voices overlap, but they’re both drowned out by his and Robin’s laughter.

Their expressions alone are worth the lecture they’re going to get about keeping secrets.

#platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #kat writes #fic #idk i got really in my feels about Steve and family and Robin and wanted to have some fun with the angst of it all

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wondersinwaynemanor · 3 months

Text

i think there's an act for thinking that the batkids lie, making up stories all because Dick told the Teen Titans when they were kids that Bruce Wayne is Batman. so when they tell the truth, the others think they are straight up lying.

Dick: Little Wing is back! He's Red Hood.

Donna: Here we go again.

Gar: Nice one, Dick. But nah.

Wally, pouts and hugs him: Hey, I know you miss your brother. It's okay, Dick.

Dick returns the hug regardless.

Roy: Nah, cus Red Hood is built like a brick. By the way, I have to say it, he's hot as fuck.

Dick: Heyy, that's my brother you're talking about!

Donna: The last time we saw Jason, he was tiny and so adorable.

Raven: And he wasn't violent at all.

Dick, whines: I know but trust me, Red Hood is Jason.

Kory touches Dick's forehead to check if he has a fever after he hit his head during a mission.

---

Jason: I'm living with Roy and I'm going to adopt Lian.

Artemis: Really? The Big, Bad Red Hood?

Bizarro: You and Roy? You adopting little girl?

Kory shakes her head, patting Jason's head.

Jason: Why are you all looking at me like I'm making up bullshit?

Roy: We're getting married, live with it!

---

Tim: I'm missing my spleen.

Cassie: That's crap!

Bart: Ha, not funny, Rob. That's not crash.

Kon: Really? How come you're alive then?

Tim, rolls his eyes: Cus it's just my spleen.

Cassie, Bart and Kon look at each other and laugh.

Cassie: Reminds me of that time when you told us you're straight.

Kon: That was funnier though.

---

Cass: I killed.

Steph stops eating.

Babs stops typing on her computer.

Steph: We're waiting for the punch line, babe.

Cass: Not a joke.

Steph and Babs exchange looks, before shrugging and continuing their tasks.

Steph: I could kiss you right now, but I'll do it after I'm eating.

Cass rolls her eyes, but she's smiling.

---

Duke: I'm a meta.

Daxton: Whaaat?

Duke: You heard me.

Izzy: How come you never told me about this?

Riko: Cus he's obviously lying.

Izzy: Besides, doesn't Batman only have human kids or?

Duke: Doesn't mean me being a meta isn't true.

Daxton: Uh, anyways... Let's get some burgers!

Duke is getting ready to show his powers, when Izzy holds his hand and he just shuts up on cue.

---

Damian: I'm gonna call my dragon bat.

Jon: DRAGON BAT????

Damian: We need back up. And he's the best one.

Jon: Why didn't you tell me you have a dragon bat???

Damian tts.

Jon: Don't tell me you have a dragon rat too.

Damian: Do they exist is the question.

Jon: You're so funny, Dames.

Damian: I wasn't telling a joke, Jonathan.

#i mean who can believe bruce wayne is THE batman #it's like it's passed on to one sibling to another #incorrect batfam #incorrect dc #batfamily #batkids #batsiblings #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #they have TOO many friends so i am not tagging all #dc comics #yel chronicles

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 9k

summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink

additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!

a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀

edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist

Joel was lonely.

He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college.

Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.

But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like.

Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name.

Ravish

It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was.

Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard.

JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him.

He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps.

“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.”

Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most.

While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later.

Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug.

Liked! Added to your queue for later.

Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore.

Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself.

Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet.

Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks.

Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop.

“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!”

“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.”

“Patience everyone.”

“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .”

Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—

He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor.

Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . .

His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out.

“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?”

Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles.

“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.”

Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible.

He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again.

“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.”

What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet.

He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got.

Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it.

Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal.

“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.”

Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.”

A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good.

“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.”

Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone.

Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm.

“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?”

Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias.

“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?”

Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.”

With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud.

“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.”

You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter!

A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come.

He wants them to come at the same time.

Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up.

Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera.

“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time.

She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet.

He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes.

“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”

Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor.

His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release.

Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop.

“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline.

Good girl.

Joel is a weak weak man.

Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him.

Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling.

Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets.

Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious.

He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little.

And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her.

He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat.

Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable.

The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly.

A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.

“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?”

He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look.

“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice?

“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?”

His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively.

“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.”

You always call me that. Why? . . . Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean.

Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.” she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.”

Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks.

“Can—Can you hear me?”

Her eyes sparkle.

“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.”

She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?”

“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?”

There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.”

“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.”

Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.”

“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”

“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.”

She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?”

Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement.

“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?”

“Would you laugh if I said no?”

“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily. “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?”

Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.”

Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.

“Anything that you like, sir?”

“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—”

“The heart-shaped ones?”

Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.”

“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?”

“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.”

“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.”

Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples.

Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch.

“Are you touching yourself, sir?”

“Yea.”

“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.”

She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted.

His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?”

Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it.

“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.”

“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?”

Fuck.

“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword.

But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough.

“Harder.”

She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release.

She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders.

It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it.

“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.”

“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?”

“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.”

“P-Pillow?”

She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.”

“Shit, say that again.”

“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—”

She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat.

“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.”

With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?”

“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight.

“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.”

With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him.

The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips.

“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.”

Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking.

“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.”

You hate visiting home.

You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.

Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of.

JMiller.

You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again.

You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online.

You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood.

Of course he did, he was perfect.

Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late.

Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you.

Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line.

“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.”

“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.”

“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.”

He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.”

“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull.

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind.

“You know what—”

“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”

You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice.

The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you.

“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?”

You’re not but you kinda wish you were.

“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.”

The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after.

“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.”

He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor.

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters.

You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale.

“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask.

“You don’t have—”

“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?”

“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.”

The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment.

Your rake your brain for answers.

Why?

Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle?

His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.”

“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.”

You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow.

“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.”

Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.”

“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.”

Oh shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

It is him.

JMiller—J stands for Joel.

Fuck.

“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .”

He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.”

“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.”

“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.”

“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.”

Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that.

Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel.

“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Technically you bought it.”

“Right. . .”

The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?”

You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.”

He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction.

After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself.

He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice.

It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.”

“Ask away.”

“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss.

“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward.

He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods.

“Is that okay?”

This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

His grin is infectious.

“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.”

You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home.

The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had.

He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company.

You found it incredibly charming.

As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too.

Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall.

“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.”

Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.”

You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall.

Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs.

“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .”

“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.”

You gasp, “P-Please.”

He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze.

He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled.

Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock.

“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—”

Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face.

Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—

“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!”

A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper.

“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—”

You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing?

“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.”

“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.”

Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs.

“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.”

He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean.

Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing.

“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild.

When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth.

“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.”

“You really had low expectations, huh?”

“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.”

“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.”

You smile, heart fluttering.

“Me too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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see-arcane · 4 months

Text

Something I’ve been chewing on for this go-around of Dracula Season is the fact that, for all that I am absolutely 110% on board with the whole ‘Dracula wants Jonathan for himself, calls dibs, wants first taste, wants to keep him as part of the castle permanently, I too can love~ et cetera’ deal, I can admit now that I’ve been overlooking one very key part of the whole Bluebeard wifery setup.

And that’s the unavoidable fact that Dracula fully intends to leave Jonathan Harker to be drunk and collected by the Weird Sisters.

Now there’s all manner of guesswork to make about what exactly these three’s relationship to Dracula really is. A personal harem is usually the go-to, and what I usually land on as explanation, considering how things will play out in the future regarding his usual choice of vampiric victim. But others have suggested familial connections, going by Jonathan noting a couple similar traits between the two brunettes, ala facial features, hair, the same red eyes and so on, leaving Blondie as a potential wife the Count turned along with their daughters. Or hell, maybe they’re all actual sisters. We never get to know.

All we know is that they accuse Dracula of ‘Never loving,’ while Dracula stares meaningfully at Jonathan, insisting otherwise. And claims that the trio themselves know it is so from the past. Whatever past that is.

To that end, the Weird Sisters matter to Dracula. Enough to keep them fed, enough to not even put up a full villain monologue at them when they go against his orders to try and snatch Jonathan out from under him, followed by laughing in his face. Beyond his far-too-intimate interactions and abuses with Jonathan, this is the closest we get to seeing Dracula trying to be close with and/or properly*** interacting with someone. An exchange that ends not only with handing over the poor stolen baby in the sack, but outright promising Jonathan to the Sisters once Dracula is finished with him.

And that’s sticking with me this year. Because for all that I’ve joked and memed about it in the past, it never really whacked me over the head with the import and terror that comes with Jonathan’s opening line in this entry.

God preserve my sanity, for to this I am reduced.

Reduced. That’s the key word here.

Even if he doesn’t know all the rules, he knows now that he is no longer just a temporary prisoner. Not even a mere murder victim waiting out the clock. No. He has been reduced to a living decanter. A possession there to be nursed from and used and given as a gift from Dracula to his companions. Like a toy or a new pet.

At the risk of slight spoilers (avert your eyes first-time Dracula Dailiers!), two important lines are yet to come during Jonathan’s stay in Vampire Hell. One from Dracula:

But I am in hopes that I shall see more of you at Castle Dracula.

(Yes, he does think he’s very funny. Prick.)

And another from Jonathan:

At its foot a man may sleep—as a man.

Two vital beats.

The first, because it is a winking confirmation to all that Jonathan has feared. Namely, that Dracula and the Weird Sisters mean to never let him leave the castle again, alive, dead, or otherwise.

The second, because it shows that for all Jonathan is not aware of, he does rightly suspect that there is more expected of him than being a mere meal to have and discard. He knows he is not due for a fleeting pain and escape, even via death. Because Dracula wants to ‘love’ him. To keep him.

And Dracula will do so because he keeps the Weird Sisters, and they will keep him. A parting gift from their loving lord of the castle. The conqueror’s playbook in miniature.

I turned you. You turn him. I have you all.

This, buried under the veneer of:

See girls? I care! Here, a fine new plaything to keep you company. Housebroken already.

(To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced. To this I am reduced.)

There’s time right now. However much time Jonathan can win by playing a good guest. But if he doesn’t get out by the time Dracula is done with him? He lives the rest of his human life as a wine bottle and then all of eternity after that as joint undead property.

Better hope your acting skills are up to the task, Mr. Harker.

#Happy Undead Girl Gang Day to you Jonathan #jonathan harker #brides of dracula #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily

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paradiseprincesss · 3 months

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i should've fucked your brother | jonathan crane & jackson rippner

i wrote this in like three hours lol i had an unhinged idea and said LET ME SHARE IT WITH YOU ALL.

summary: you walk in on your boyfriend, jackson rippner, cheating on you. naturally, you want revenge and who else better is there to help you do that than his estranged brother jonathan crane?

warnings: threesome, p in v, oral (both m&f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cheating, swearing, mdni 18+ only!!

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

“you’re home early.” your boyfriend said with a shocked expression, staring at you from your shared bed — with another woman entangled in the sheets beside him.

you scoffed in disbelief as you took in what was happening. “yeah, i knew you had the day off but i didn’t realise you’d already made plans.” you tell him, gesturing to the naked woman beside him.

“babe,” he started, scrambling as he hastily threw on some pants, “please. this meant nothing to me, you know i love—”

“jackson — just don’t.” you warned, glaring daggers at him. “all this time i've been faithful to you, and for what? did two years mean nothing to you?”

“of course it meant something to me. work has just been killin’ me, okay?” he said with a sigh.

“so you cheated on me?”

you had been dating your boyfriend — jackson rippner — for just over two years now. you’d met through work, as you’d been assigned to work with him to assassinate a certain political figure together. ever since the beginning, you two were a team.

well, you thought so anyway.

“i didn’t mean to!” he said defensively, throwing his hands up to further prove his point. “you’ve just been gone a lot, and—”

“pack up your shit and leave.” you deadpanned, staring at him with a lifeless expression. you weren’t playing games anymore; he’d run out of chances.

“you know what,” he laughed lowly, brushing past you as he deliberately nudged your shoulder harshly, “i think i will. you’re too much, anyway.”

you watched as his mistress ran out behind him, looking like she was coated in shame. as you try to process what just happened, you sigh and grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, pouring yourself a full glass. as much as you wanted to cry, the tears weren’t coming out — maybe you were still in shock.

your head was clouded and your emotions were running rampant, and now that alcohol had been added to the mixture — you were brewing up the perfect concoction of revenge. there was a list of things you could do to jackson in order to get back at him, but there was one thing person that you knew you could use to get your ultimate payback.

his estranged brother — doctor jonathan crane.

i think i still have his number, you thought to yourself as you scrolled through the contacts on your phone. your finger landed on the dial button of his contact, and after a few rings, someone picked up.

“hello?” jonathan’s voice asked from the other end of the line, and you smiled to yourself.

“i caught your brother cheating on me.” you said, deciding to just come out with it — no beating around the bush. you were an honest person, unlike some people.

“...and you called to tell me this because?” jonathan asked after a moment of silence, presumably to process what he was hearing.

“i’ll be honest with you, jonathan. i’m looking to get my revenge on him — and i know you want to do the same.” you said, smirking to yourself as you pitched the idea. “i know you’re still mad about what he did to you all those years ago.”

jonathan was silent for a few moments, but eventually he sighed. “what did you have in mind?”

“i think you should come over later.” you suggested in a sultry tone. “he’s going to be back to pick up the rest of his stuff. i wonder what he would think if he caught us—”

“wait — are you seriously suggesting we do…that as a form of revenge?” jonathan choked.

“as if you’d say no.” you challenged, making him chuckle quietly into the phone. “come on, i saw the way you were looking at me that one time i joined jackson at that family reunion you were both at. you weren’t exactly subtle about it.”

“apparently not,” he said with a quiet laugh, “...fine. send me your address.”

you hang up and send jonathan the address before texting jackson to come pick his things up around eight since you’d be…home. jackson texted back immediately, saying he’d see you at eight, along with a lengthy apology over text that you disregarded.

you wasted no time getting ready, hopping in the shower and making yourself look perfect. i mean, yes, you wanted to make sure jackson knew what he was missing — but you also wanted him to see what his brother was having.

you settled on your favourite black lingerie, lacy and sensual. perfect for the occasion, right? you styled your hair and perfected the details of your makeup before your phone buzzed, lighting up with a notification from jonathan.

i’m here.

you felt your heart flutter, and you quickly typed out a response.

door’s unlocked.

as you pressed send, you heard the front door creak open before being closed shut. you grab your matching black, silk robe, and make your way to the front entrance of your home.

jonathan’s blue eyes pierced right through you as he drank in your appearance, staring at you in awe. he was in his usual attire, a suit and tie, along with that sweater vest he always wore (which, by the way, you secretly found strangely attractive).

“you look…” jonathan said, trailing off before finding his voice again, “wow. you look even prettier than the last time i saw you.”

“thanks.” you say with a small laugh, unsure of what else to say now that he was actually here. “d’you want a glass of wine or something?”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” jonathan shrugged, taking his suit jacket off and tossing it onto the back of your couch. “red would be great.”

“got it.” you said, rummaging around your kitchen for two wine glasses, pouring a hefty amount of red into each.

as you hand the glass of wine to him, he eyes you down — clearly not bothering to hide his attraction to you. “you know,” he started, “i always thought you were too good for my brother. you’ve got a lot going for you — you’re smart, beautiful, kind…”

you blushed at his flattery, shaking your head as you downed your wine rather quickly. “well, i appreciate that.”

“i mean it.” jonathan insisted as he wrapped his hand around your waist, toying with where you’d tied your robe. “you’re truly ravishing, darling.”

both of you put down your glasses of wine, and he wrapped his arms around your waist fully. he pulled you close — so close that you could smell the lingering remnants of his woody cologne — and you looked up at him lustfully.

“maybe i should have jackson admitted to arkham.” jonathan joked lowly. “only someone out of their right mind would stray from someone as perfect as you.”

“you barely know me.” you whispered, your lips getting closer to his.

“yet, i found myself wanting to. even after all this time.” he confessed, closing the gap between you and him.

he kissed you sensually — in a way jackson never did. every time you and jackson had sex, the lead up to it felt rushed. he’d always kiss you roughly, forcefully even, and you’d have no choice but to go along with it. jonathan was softer — kinder.

he held you close as if you were made of porcelain, ready to shatter at any moment if handled too roughly. his kisses were gentle and sweet. he took his time to get to know you and your body.

his hands slipped around the knot of your robe, pulling it undone as he pushed the fabric off of your body. slowly, he pulled away from the kiss to see what was underneath. his eyes went wide as he admired your perfect figure, staring at awe at the lace details.

running his hands over the curve of your ass, he gave it a little squeeze. “i see you dressed up for the occasion.” he commented. “i’ll treat you so much better than he ever did, i can promise you that.”

“show me then, jonathan.” you whispered, taking his hand and leading him into your bedroom.

between sloppy kisses and giggles from you, the both of you ended up on you and jackson’s old shared bed with jonathan on top of you. his hands roamed your body delicately, making sure that you were comfortable — and turned on — every step of the way.

the way he was kissing down your neck, nipping at the skin there lightly, had you whimpering and begging him for more — and you’d only just started. his hands made their way to the underside of your back, unclasping your bra with ease.

once your bra was tossed out of the way, he worked on getting you out of your panties. his agile, gentle touch sent goosebumps up your spine, getting you worked up over just the way his fingers brushed over your skin.

“can i take these off too, darling?” jonathan asked politely, hooking a finger into the band of your lacy underwear. you give him an affirming nod, to which he takes as the green light; go.

as he slipped your panties off, tossing them to the side, he swiped a finger through your soaked folds. the dirty yet simple action caused you to involuntarily let out a rather filthy moan. the noise caused jonathan to smirk to himself — all worked up and over what?

a few kisses and some light touches?

well, you could tell which of the two twins was familiar with the female anatomy, that was for sure.

“beg me.” jonathan stated, looking up at you from between your thighs. “i wanna hear you beg.”

“jonathan, baby — please.” you whimpered, squirming from under his intoxicating stare. those impossibly blue eyes did it for you; you were a soaked mess and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. “give it to me. i need it, p-please.”

you swore his eyes had turned three shades darker as you spoke to him, and just as he was about to attach his mouth to your soaking wet cunt, the bedroom doors swung open.

oops.

jonathan whipped his head around as you peered over his shoulder, and the both of you were staring at a very angry and very shocked jackson. his expression was priceless — you’d kill to have it photographed and framed if you could.

“what the fuck is going on here?” jackson growled, his jaw clenching from pure rage.

“what does it look like, jackson?” you teased as jonathan was still in between your thighs. “you wanted to play dirty, so that’s what we're doing.”

“are you fucking joking?” jackson asked in disbelief.

“if i’m not mistaken,” jonathan chimed in at his brother, “weren’t you caught in bed with someone else just hours ago?”

jackson disregarded what his brother said, staring directly at you with a look that screamed pure anger. “so, this is what you do less than twelve hours after we break up?” he hissed. “you fuck my brother?”

“we haven’t fucked yet actually — but if you want to stay and watch what it’s like when i’m not faking it, then i won’t stop you from staying.” you smirked, watching jackson as he saw red.

“oh, really?” jackson challenged, “don’t mind if i do, then.”

you looked at jonathan who looked back at you — neither of you were expecting him to stay, let alone watch. jackson noticed the exchanged glances between you and jonathan, to which he scoffed.

“don’t tell me you thought i was going to just let this happen. not a fucking chance — she’s my girl, crane.” he sneered, but jonathan chuckled lowly.

“not anymore, rippner.”

jackson didn’t offer a response as his eyes were fixated on your very naked figure, tongue darting over his lips as he stared you down like a lion does to its next meal. jonathan looked at you as if to ask “should we continue?” and you merely nodded.

“don’t make her wait, crane.” jackson scoffed, smirking at the two of you.

jonathan looked at jackson one more time before he licked a fat, long stripe up your cunt, causing you to moan. jackson’s jaw clenched at the sounds of your pleasure — he’d almost never got you to moan like that even while he was inside of you.

and here his brother was getting you to toss your head back with just one lick up your cunt? unbelievable.

jonathan continued to lick your cunt deliciously, swirling his tongue around your clit as he sucked it gently. the noises you were making had jonathan’s cock straining in his pants — and if he could hear one thing for the rest of eternity, it would be the sound of your wet, squelching cunt and your moans mixed together.

he continued to lap up your wetness as you breathlessly moaned his name like he was your boyfriend. like you loved him.

“all yours,” you gasped, “s’all y-yours, jon.”

“that’s right.” jonathan said, voice muffled as he continued to devour your dripping cunt. “that’s fucking right.”

a few more licks from him and you were done for. your stomach tightened as you were close to coming, and all he did was use his mouth — not even his fingers. your head was spinning as you let out shallow, quick breaths, creaming on his face.

jonathan got up from between your legs after you came, wiping his face with the sleeve of his button down. jackson looked like he’d seen a ghost — how’d jonathan get you to cum so quickly?! of course, jackson would never say it aloud, but he was fuming.

jonathan started to unbuckle his belt as you stared up at him desperately, eyes solely focused on him instead of jackson. much to jackson’s dismay, you looked at jonathan with a hunger that he’d never seen on your face before.

sibling rivalry, anyone?

as jonathan was undoing his belt and trying to get his rock hard cock free from his pants, you glanced over at jackson with a shit-eating grin on your face.

“d’you wanna join?” you asked.

“fuck yes.” jackson replied before you even finished asking, making you shake your head.

“i’ll suck you off — but that’s it.” you told him. “you lost your privilege to fuck me.”

that seemed to be enough for jackson because he was rushing over, taking his pants off in a rush. you looked back at jonathan who was lining his cock up with your drooling cunt, causing your jaw to drop.

they may have been the same height, but it seemed that jonathan had a couple inches on jackson.

jonathan stroked himself a couple times (which you were drooling over) before he rubbed the tip of his thick cock in your dripping folds. he pushed himself in gently, making you let out the dirtiest noise you’d made by far this evening, your head dropping backwards and your back arching upwards.

“oh my god.” you gasped, and jonathan’s hands found purchase on your waist as he gently held onto you.

“you’re doing so well, darling — so pretty, aren’t you?” jonathan cooed gently, moving in and out slowly as he let your cunt adjust to his thickness.

jackson had managed to get out of his pants, his cock leaking already as he tapped it against your lips a few times. classy, you thought as you rolled your eyes. you wrap a hand around the base of jackson’s cock as you take him into your warm mouth.

as soon as jackson felt your lips around his cock, he was groaning and reaching up to tangle his hands in your hair — but you slapped his hand away. he almost looked offended, but he stayed quiet as he continued to let out heavy breaths and occasional groans.

you moaned around jackson’s cock as jonathan picked up his pace, almost knocking the wind out of you with how full he made you feel. the tip of his cock was brushing up against your cervix, and your velvety walls were clenching around his thickness — you could’ve sworn you felt him in your stomach.

“mmmmph!” you moaned around jackson, to which he looked down at you — gritted teeth and all.

you took a moment to breathe, popping jackson out of your warm mouth for a second as a string of saliva connected your lips to his cock. jackson stared down at you with blown out pupils, jacking himself off in your face as his cheeks were flushed.

“s-so big!” you squeaked, tightening up around jonathan’s fat cock. “gonna — f-fuck! — i'm gonna cum!”

“what a good girl,” jonathan praised softly, “fuuuck — you’re so tight, darling. my god.”

jackson jerked himself off to the sight of you getting fucked by his brother of all people — and before you ask; yes, he was ashamed. he’d never seen you like this before; so fucking needy and so desperate for cock.

not even his cock, but rather jonathan’s.

he watched in disbelief as you came around jonathan’s thick cock, but what made his jaw drop was when you squirted all over jonathan’s white button down. you drenched the doctor's shirt, whining and trembling as you came hard and fast for him, unlike you ever did with jackson.

“look at that,” jonathan said as he marvelled at the sight, “feels that good, pretty girl?”

“uh-huh, y-yes!” you incoherently scream, and jonathan almost came at the sight of you like this alone.

it was no secret he always found you breathtaking — beautiful, actually — but seeing you coming for him, squirting on his shirt was something else. it was heavenly, and jonathan was convinced that you’d gone for the wrong brother.

it should’ve been him — he was certain that he could please you right, treat you right, and love you right.

unlike his selfish lover of a brother, he wouldn’t dare break your heart.

“a-and by the way, jackson.” you huffed, letting out a few choked moans as jonathan rammed his fat cock into your sticky, warm cunt. “you will never get to touch this pussy again. you will — ugh, y-yes jon — never get to have me again.”

“shut your fucking mouth—” jackson started, but jonathan shut him down real quick.

“fuck off, jackson.” jonathan huffed, his anger fueling the way he was fucking you (not that you were complaining!). “you’re lucky you even had her to begin with.”

the way jonathan was talking about you — defending you — was making you shamelessly wetter by the second. jackson shut his mouth, tapping two fingers against your cheeks to try and get you to open up again, but you kept your mouth shut.

you clawed at jonathan’s clothed biceps as he brutally pounded your pussy, causing you to scream his name out over and over as jackson grew angrier and angrier. it’s not like he could do anything now, though — it was a little late for that.

“i’m close,” jonathan groaned, “gonna fucking fill this tight cunt. make you mine.”

“p-please!” you begged, gasping for air.

“fuck, i’m close too — come on, please. suck me off so i can cum.” jackson pleaded, and you’d never thought you’d see the day where jackson rippner of all people would actually beg.

“n-no.” you choked out through broken moans as jonathan fucked his cum into you. “y-you — fuuuck — already got to cum with my replacement earlier today. too f-fucking bad.”

“she’s not you, though!” jackson desperately begged, stroking himself faster, but you grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“i fucking know.” you growled, moving your head as far away as you could from him.

jackson came all over his own fist, white ropes of cum covering his hand as he scowled at you.

jonathan came to a still with a low groan, his cum seeping into your abused cunt as he buried his face into your neck. you wrapped your arms around him gently, holding him close as he peppered soft kisses on your face lovingly.

the difference between the two twins was astonishing.

jonathan pulled out as he watched his cum leak from your spent hole, and jackson sat on the bed silently, grabbing tissues and wiping his hand off.

jonathan, being the gentleman that he is, helped you get cleaned up and slipped you into your robe as you lay down on your bed with him.

jackson grabbed the rest of his belongings, getting dressed as he made his way out in silence. clearly, you not letting him finish in your mouth left a sour taste in his. jonathan chuckled quietly from beside you in bed, looking over at you with a small smile.

“so,” jonathan said, playing with your hair gently, “how about i show you how much better it is when someone loves you in all the right ways, my darling?”

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