#like he’s a 18 year old kid leave him alone

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XIX

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: well I said a couple of months ago that something was toxic… there’s a lil bit of non-con this time, so if someone of you is not ready, im sorry, is that chap.

A/N: this chapter wasn't very easy to write, but the next ones won't be either, let's wish each other good luck.

She had hoped to go somewhere else, but with problems piling up day after day doing so wasn't even an option. It was safer to stay south, where their reservation still acted as a natural stop to any external influence coming from across the border, plus Roman was in the area, though again not there with her, having yet another meeting with yet another person for yet another deal.

She hadn't been very happy about it at first, but had to admit at least to herself that maybe it was for the best. In town she had finally found something she could bring to Lisa to thank her and plus they were relatively close home, which meant they would be there before night and she could go to bed to recover a bit.

The stress caused by the situation did not help either her mood or body already affected by hormonal swings of a heat that Y/N prayed to postpone as long as possible. She wasn't sleeping well due to too many thoughts, she was losing her appetite, as well as the desire to go running and that afternoon she had another one of her waves of shivers which was trying to fight with some hot chocolate in an attempt to also replenish a sugars. She had bought Solo a coffee too, but he kept holding it in his hand without drinking, too busy glaring at anyone who dared come closer than necessary, that was not even so close.

- You didn't grow up here, did you? – she asked, interrupting silence between them once again, because they spent a lot of time together, but even if he seemed willing to talk with her, their conversations were never long.

He looked at her a bit confused, putting aside his perpetual serious face for a moment, coffee still in his hand.

- Jimmy said you came here after, like me – she explained, letting out an encouraging smile and he shook his head no.

- I grew up in the area, with my family.

Y/N let out a surprised oh, going back to twirling the straw in silence as they walked towards the suv.

From the stories she had thought he had come from out of state to help Roman, but she probably misunderstood. She hadn't spent much time with Solo's family, she had only seen them once actually and he didn't open up more than necessary, most of the time talking about what there was to do during the day, well she talked, he was more comfortable listening.

- Not with them. They were always together somewhere. – he added unexpectedly, perhaps not to make her uncomfortable with another silence or perhaps not to make her feel so out of place and Y/N smiled gratefully.

Y/N saw him nod slightly, as if satisfying her had satisfied him too.

She had never really thought about it, but there was an age gap between him and those three. Now he was a big boy with muscles and a menacing look, in those years he had probably just been a kid that them didn't want around. She couldn't imagine what it was like, Y/N hadn't had any brother or sister, she had grown up alone, but the half year spent with all of them before the chaos was enough for her to understand. Maybe he couldn't have tolerated them as a kid, always together already as pack leaving him at home and doing their own business, but now he was a man, it was different.

His family is broken.

- I'm sorry, Solo...

Standing next to the black suv, he looked at her, again confused by her reaction.

- We have to do what needs to be done.

- They're your brothers no matter what.

- I swore to the Tribal Chief. They did it too. – he said serious, his tone almost angry.

In packs like theirs, still tied to old laws and traditions, it was normal to have a relationship of deep respect with those at the top. Those were legacies that were now intertwined with a changed society but still subject to natural balances, such as the amendment on property rights between mates and social hierarchies for those who belonged to or were born from groups not commonly seen well. Y/N, with her omega smell, knew a lot about it and had had to deal with it there too in the first few months, but the prospect of an acknowledgment, oath, was new and something she hadn't heard.

She saw Solo open the door to let her in, his face less angry, but still solemn.

- You don't have to – he reassured her, mistaking her silence for concern, dark round eyes stopping too long lower, at the base between her neck and shoulder, where Y/N had tightened her jacket trying to send away the cold shivers – you already have his… smell.

Smell wasn't the word he wanted to say, but what Solo was referring to, she didn't have yet.

Our mark. His mark.

That too was an old legacy, dangerous in her case, but Y/N didn't have time to think too much about it by looking for her phone which in the meantime had notified of a message.

***

Paul was a smart man. Roman had chosen him as a wise man for that very reason. There was no one in the entire country more capable than him, no one who had his level of experience. He was a lawyer, an advisor, a connoisseur, he had political support, important acquaintances within the packs and outside, plus his family had practically adopted him when he was a boy, so he was not a stranger. The wise man was many things, but honest only when necessary and Roman had never had a problem with that kind of approach in their time together. He tolerated all sorts of expedient for his purpose, he had learned the hard way how much it cost to have feelings, but everything changed if those tricks helped something of which he was not made aware.

Because Roman knew from years and life lessons. Loyalty and trust were something he no longer expected, from anyone and certainly not from someone who had stayed afloat when everyone else drowned. Everyone could be a friend, everyone could be an enemy, his wolf now did no exception and all the whispers, phone calls and messages that kept Paul busy even when they were together were nothing but further proof of a picture that he knew. The wiseman acted driven by the feeling of ground crumbling beneath their feet, frightened by changes that his cousin and those dogs on the border threatened, by the possibility of a future that Roman would not allow as long as he was able to breathe. He loved the wise man, he could forgive him being a coward, pretending not to see, at least until he took a step too far.

- So? – he asked annoyed, almost making the phone fly out of his hand.

- Two weeks. Tomorrow both of you will exchange the sogi – he reported in a heavy voice, his shoulders low, his face frowning as if someone had just stepped on him after the news.

He didn't like the prospect of that fight, first of all because he was risking his head. Roman knew even without having to ask that he would play his cards to make things better and save everything, but for him the two weeks he had dealt were too much time and those plans useless. Fourteen days were the ritual time to provide what was necessary for families, so that both parties were ready for any outcome, but for him were just a useless wait. He wouldn't be the one to lose, he had no alternatives to plan unlike Jey, he just needed to have free way and get his hands on his cousin.

- About the stipulations, I was thinking- he advanced, trying to recover as much as possible.

- There are none.

- My Tribal Chief, if I may, considering what we are facing now, it would be better to leave a few more resources and perhaps-

- There will be no stipulations.

He had complied with stipulations, conditions for weeks, suffered weakness for months, the time for mercy was over. He had left many doors open for his cousins, he had tried everything and Jey however had gone where he shouldn't, disrespecting him to the point of contesting him with the Elders, they had gone too far and now there was only one way to put an end to it. The only acceptable stipulation was unconditional surrender, total humiliation, there was nothing else to talk about. Guts were needed to keep their family in line, his dad had reminded him of this and Roman was not willing to receive other reminders in the future, he was no longer a boy. Whatever happened next, he would handle it the way he handled everything, with a firm grip and without regard, he didn't need those two to do it. He was the alpha, he had control and winning cards to play against everyone.

- How much longer do we have to stay here? – he asked, tired of waiting, staring with annoyance at the watch on his wrist.

They had been in that office longer than he was willing to tolerate and he couldn't stand listening to the wise man calls or him typing messages anymore, he didn't have all day to waste signing a deal with the governor. He had to train, dedicate the next fourteen days focusing on the goal, not sitting bored in a chair waiting for a paper that should have already been ready the second he set foot in that building.

- I'm going to immediately check where Pearce has ended up, my… – the wise man snapped to attention, but he barely managed to turn to go towards the door – tribal… chief.

Roman smelled him before even moving his gaze to the man accompanying Pearce. He had no idea who he was, he didn't remember his face if they had ever met before, but he had a smell that he didn't like. He didn't like the smell of him, he didn't like the way was staring at him, he didn't like the attitude and he sure as hell didn't like that he came around when he had business to do.

We don't like him.

- Reigns.

Pearce greeted, already adjusting glasses on his nose, his expression stressed as always. Roman didn't even look at him, focused on observing the new arrival who was already taking place at the table without having been invited. Pearce had that same attitude in the past, a couple of years ago, until Roman had taken it away from him in his own way and since then had never reappeared. He almost wanted to do the same with that new guy.

- What’s this idea Mr. Pearce?! It was supposed to be a private meeting for private business! Very important business! It's unacceptable! – complained the wise man, standing up against that lack of respect.

- Our new neighbors have informed the governor of activities across the border. It seemed right to him to invite Mr. Aldis as a delegate to clarify before signing anything. He’s in charge of that area now.

That's what he was. Another puppet, another well-dressed small dude convinced to have power or a chance against him, thought he was worth something, that he could stand face to face with Roman, thanks to the talks of those idiots to whom his cousins had left the field free. They were becoming arrogant, stupidly brave, throwing in his face that he had lost his hold in the north and that now there were others there. They hadn't gone too far yet, keeping everything legal, moving with what they could to make their voices heard, their new influence known, but Roman was fine with those games as long as they didn't go beyond the limit. And the limit was his patience running out.

- Since you no longer have jurisdiction there and the upcoming Bloodline activities threaten the entire area, restrictions must be established for the future. Real restrictions Mr. Reigns that I will take care of enforcing and making clear to you. Without it, nothing new will be authorized. – the new dude, Aldis, announced, openly defying his influence, head held high and the wise man behind him jumped.

They wanted to authorize him.

- How dare you- he screamed, but Roman simply raised a finger to silence him, the other hand gripping the chair.

That tanned, smug face of him would have looked perfect smashed onto his table or on the floor, better under his foot.

They wanted to play the big game, gamble when he already had more important business to take care of. It was almost hilarious, almost because that little game would be short-lived. He would let them do it, for a while, until Jey got what he deserved since everything that was happening was his fault. That was what happened if they left their side exposed, if they allowed a pack of strays to smell weakness, it was the price to pay for a crack and the reason Roman would have no more second thoughts.

Elders were right, he had to focus, do what he had to do and what he had been chosen for. He couldn't afford any more weaknesses or they would become ready and able to bite his throat.

- Go ahead – he conceded, collecting himself.

He would get rid of them one by one, blood of his blood or not. Without mercy.

***

She had sought comfort between now cold sheets smelling of him, curling up her legs for extra warmth, keeping her eyes tighter to ward off thoughts ready to fill her mind, but hadn't made it and her she-wolf had found Roman through the link. She had sensed him immediately, probably because he wasn't shielding anything believing that she was still asleep and Y/N had snuck out to join him in the dim light of his home office.

Mate is not here with us.

He was sitting on the couch with a solitary lamp, his face serious, fingers running through the seeds of his necklace. He was physically there, but his head was somewhere else as happened too often now. In the house he always kept the ulafala in the case, but Y/N didn't need to ask to know why he was there staring at it when he was supposed to be resting by her side, in their bed. Paul had told her as soon as he received the news, keeping to their agreement or perhaps already seeking help and Y/N had finally given a deadline to the anxiety that was weighing on her.

Fourteen days of peace before chaos, before completely crumbling what was left of the family, but in a few hours it would truly become inevitable. Or it was probably already late judging by Roman's face.

- Will you have to wear it? – she asked in a whisper, entering the room almost on tiptoe.

He hadn't told her anything about how the meeting would take place nor had he added anything about the fight, but she couldn't blame him. She had promised to stand by him, to defend him, yet she hadn't reacted well to his drastic change of plans and he didn't seem to really understand why she hadn't accepted it. What had happened was serious, but what could happened next would be even worse. Standing, she watched him keep his gaze fixed on the symbol of sacrifices, of his role and pains without turning to look at her and she too observed it, perhaps expecting a revelation.

Red for power, seeds for the rebirth of the dynasty.

She knew the value and pride behind that object, Roman had told Y/N all the stories about the ulafala, but no matter how hard she tried in her eyes it was only a necklace left weighing him down. It should have given him strength, conveyed his strength, represented the family future and instead he found himself fighting to keep it around his neck, to keep what he had gained after an argument born from unpleasant circumstances and degenerated due to old grudges.

- I earned it, represents me – she heard him reply, because in his mind it was the only thought.

She felt it, she knew it. He felt his efforts, sacrifices threatened and they were, but Y/N still felt like it wasn't Jey or Jimmy who was the real danger. At least not initially, now everything was a danger, even the elders who were supposed to accompany and advise him. Them all had fallen into a trap were building with their own hands and she couldn't resign herself to the sight of that disaster.

He's not just that for us.

- You don't need it – she reminded him, stopping looking at the ulafala to focus on him.

She saw him inspire with frustration, felt annoyance pass through him at the mere idea of continuing that conversation, his eyes far from hers.

- Go back to bed Y/N.

- Come with me then, is not mornin yet – she insisted, refusing to give up.

They had different opinions, different approaches, it had always been like that and perhaps it would never change, but they were on the same side. She didn't want to go back to their room if he wasn't there, didn't want to sleep if he wasn't there, she had been alone for too long to throw away moments, to wait two weeks to pass and then hope to go back to what they had before. She trusted Roman, she had never trusted anyone like him, but it wasn't going to end up with Jey and Y/N was honestly afraid of the aftermath he talked about. The threats were different, without blood ties and were just waiting the right moment to attack him, they wanted to get him out of the way and take everything, not just his role. No one can get rid of a weed without pulling out its roots. It had already happened with her family and now can happen again because he was focused just on what was in front of him. But she couldn't wait for the inevitable, it wasn't in her nature to do what she had to do or what he wanted, she existed to do what he couldn't.

She saw him stay silent, sign he had no intention of moving. So she stood in front of him, slipping the ulafala from his fingers without asking. That move finally forced him to raise his head, trying to understand what was happening, while she carefully placed it back in the case where he kept it and then went back to the couch. She listened him breathe heavily, scratch his dark beard with a grimace, and she sat down on his lap to take up the entire view.

- Ain't doing this talk once more – he stopped her soon, shaking his head.

- Not even if im the one asking? – she tried, seeing him immediately clench his jaw.

- Im doing it for you, for us, all! I told you and you said we were on the same side, now what?!

- I'm not taking anything back. I'm just worried it’s already too much – she confessed, not really knowing how else to explain the feeling in her.

Maybe she was giving in to the hormones, anxiety, or maybe was the fact she hadn't cared about others in years like she did now for him, but it was all happening so fast and whether Roman was ready to admit it or not, he was losing control and not facing things with a right mindset. Those outbursts of anger, the way he turned against everyone, judgments, drastic solutions, he was getting carried away by the desire for revenge and his justice. He kept saying he was doing it for them, for their future and instead seemed like a pretext to rush towards other problems. They didn't need acknowlegment, a border to build anything, they were fine, everything worked when it was just them, together. They had never been happier than in the time spent getting to know each other, digging their bond out of the dust and strengthening it. Life certainly couldn't be made up only of moments like those, dates and runs in the woods, but things could certainly have been different.

- Whatever it takes, doesn't matter, at all – he announced, almost exasperated by having to explain, by having to hear, his gaze so confident and Y/N stared at him for a moment without being able to say anything else.

Whatever it takes, he said.

The prospect of those sacrifices and ease which he said he wanted to face them would torment was heavy, but as she had sadly learned to do growing up, she hid all the worry in the back of her mind.

He didn't listen or maybe he didn't want to.

So Y/N simply moved closer, challenging his growing temper, to seek some warmth and his lips in an uncertain kiss. Saw him look at her almost suspiciously for her reaction, studying before reciprocate the kiss and sliding his hands down her thighs. Close, felt their breaths slowly mix in the silence of the dark house and that warmth she had found too late, growing from the most vulnerable part to her chest begging for comfort.

- You matter to me – she reminded him in a heated murmur, forehead resting on him, swollen lips touching, eyes burning for something that went beyond words.

She didn't really care about anything else. They could have been anywhere, surrounded by anyone or in utter desolation and Y/N would still have searched for those eyes. They were her firm point, he was her person. The thought of it terrified her, but she was done fighting and pretending. Roman was everything for her, she had nothing else anymore and she wanted, hoped... he would understand that for that exact reason they couldn't give in. They had to stay together, as a pack, mates.

She saw his gaze lingering on her lips, rising then to meet her eyes, two brown pools now dark in the dim light of the room. Felt his fingers gripping her hips, digging into soft flesh with possession, domineering and lust, marking her skin to claim and force her where she already was.

- Then you gonna be there with me, as you should – he demanded, resolute and despite fighting with everything her head suggested, Y/N nodded to please him again, letting Roman finally crash his mouth against her, satisfied.

They would find a way, they would find a solution even if it seemed difficult, they could do it together, but in that moment Y/N just needed to feel him close, just for her, far from all the noise and problems that awaited them out. They could give themselves that moment of rest, cherish it and Y/N rocked on him, moaning into his hot mouth as their bodies inexorably warmed up. His tongue was insatiable, ready to devour and intoxicate her with his good taste, thrown into a fight that she didn't even dare win. She preferred to let him have control in those moments, while her fingers made their way through dark soft locks, scratching the back of his strong neck to once again elicit that raw growl that vibrated through his broad chest into her bones. Felt his hands slide deeper, grasping her ass, encouraging Y/N to move her hips, pushing on his boner which was quickly answering to juices already wetting his pants.

She had stopped wearing panties when they went to bed a while ago and now was even grateful. She would bear nothing but the feeling of his hard body against her, pressure building like a blessed torture as he guided her growling for her to ride him shamelessly. Y/N had been trying to slow down and control herself for months now, so as not to give in to the heat of their bond, stay with feet on the ground and mind clear now that everything was falling apart, but it was an inexorable descent faster every time Roman touched her. She clung to him, feeling one of his hands travel up under her shirt to roughly grab one of her breasts, his calloused palm rubbing her sensitive nipple making her squirm. Her body had always been hyper-reactive to his attentions, but now she had fallen into a spiral with no exit. Y/N yearned him like a castaway for salvation and in moments like that the need mixed with something more, something that Y/N had never felt for anyone else and her she-wolf fought to make her whisper.

Tell him. We need him. Our mate. Tell him.

- My pussy wet as fuck hm? You need me, don't you? – he said voice like velvet, breaking their kiss and motioning for her to raise herself just enough to sink easily into her cunt – Ima fill you up good, babygirl… don't worry. Aint going nowhere and you'll be stuck with me.

The heat caused by his intrusion had already forced Y/N to open her mouth without being able to speak back, but the sudden thrust of his hips quickly accelerating to pound her almost made her cry. Hands tightened on his shoulders, eyes narrowing with each thrust and then opening as the wave of heat rose from her belly, sending her entire body into flames. Bouncing on his lap, she felt Roman moving his hand from her breast to give her a sharp slap on her ass, he did it one more time drawing a moan and then move up to her throat, to squeeze it just enough to bring tears to her eyes. Quickening the pace, in the frenzy of their moment, Y/N began to confuse the her own pounding heart with the slick sound of bodies slamming together. Her mind becomes more clouded by the second, ears filled with Roman's growls and threatening promises like dark spells ready to tear her soul and climax away. Confused between pleasure and desperation, she held him to her as he held her by the throat, twitches of her wet center uncontrolled amidst the panting of both of them that grew angrier. Room around flashed, throbbing like folds around his cock, impregnated with smell of their bodies, air charged and heavy, saturated with sweat and lust, with a mix of their smells.

They were racing with no intention of slowing down, as if the only goal was to consume, melt and crumble thanks to the other one. Y/N end came sudden and violent between a sloppy kiss and a particularly insistent push on that soft point on which Roman loved to rage without any mercy, fast, powerful, in a strangled moan that made her bare feet tingle, rising in an electric discharge up her legs to a sweaty body, chest begging and hot face. She closed her eyes, grabbing Roman's arm for her life, throwing her head back and then immediately hiding her face on his shoulder because he wasn't slowing down, he wasn't even giving her a moment to breath and she had already went over her limit. Heat kept growing and shake her, causing Y/N to lose all contact with her surroundings, ears ringing as if she had been underwater, body still crying out for more while Roman pounded furiously. Stunned, she stood abandoned in his arms, letting him have his way as he wanted, until something made her eyes widen, pushing her to gasp.

- R-Ro- she tried, because his hand had somehow left her throat, to grab Y/N by the back of her neck and tilt her head to the side.

He was holding her by her curls, beard scratching her hot neck, tongue ready to lick away sweat from her sweet pulsing weak spot to prepare it.

- Easy, stay still – his breath against her skin, so close, pushed Y/N to stiffen as much as his words – I'll be gentle, ssh…

Roman had never pushed, he had never held her like he was doing at that moment and feeling his teeth on her flesh sharper than usual, Y/N wriggled away.

- Don't - she tried again, feeling him tighten his grip, slowing down his thrusts, another hand moving to her wrist.

Why he was acting like that?

- Don't panic, its me – he reassured her, words heavy, attitude raising for her reaction and she planted her feet, her only free hand tapping on his bare chest.

It was him, Roman? Was it really him that one? Suddenly Y/N wasn't so sure and ignoring her wolf pleas, confused between the sense of discomfort and desire to give in, she pushed again to put some space between them.

- Y/N

- No, not like this! – she wailed and when finally managed to slide away from his legs, Y/N saw him jump up with a growl.

The crash of the coffee table froze her on the couch, eyes wide as she watched him pant in anger with clenched fists, body stiff. Still dirty for their moment, but with her mind completely clear now, she watched him stand there trying to regain control in a heavy silence she hadn't felt between them in a while. Roman rubbed his face, rolling his large shoulders, rocking his head and even though she was shaken, something in Y/N's chest tightened following the imperceptible direction of his gaze across the room, where she had put the ulafala away.

Did he want to mark her to prove a point? To have full control in order to not go through what had happened with his family? It was that?

Mate…

She moved her eyes to his hand, the one would have grabbed to calm him, to bring him back to there with her, the one she always found on herself for any reason even the stupidest, the one Y/N had learned to want, but a second too long passed and her hesitation was enough for Roman to quickly settle down, deciding to walk out of the room without a word to leave her again.

***

Uncle Afa was a man bent by age and illness now. When him and his dad stopped traveling around the country, he opened a gym in a recreation center on the eastern outskirts of the city where family had settled. He only trained their people at that time, city folks didn't want to set foot among savages, but his uncle ignored comments like his dad, dedicating himself heart and soul to the pack. Roman remembered going into that place the last time when he was sixteen, probably with the twins, to put on muscles that had grown bigger on their own later and fill his stomach always asking for more. The gym was different now from then, it was larger, it had incorporated buildings next door and it wasn't dusty at all. There was a sign, clean walls full of photos and articles, in the central one there was also him, right at the top.

They had organized the meeting there to have a neutral place, a place that represented everyone, a symbol of the pack values as the Elders demanded. Yet sitting at the head of the table in the gym hall, with the attention of many of his blood just beyond the threshold, Roman kept undaunted watching that perfectly framed photo at the top of the wall. He was there to talk, ready to prove his worth even if it was thanks to him that that picture had a wall to still be on, if that gym existed after his uncle's family had spent almost everything to pay the national healthcare system, if the next generations would have a place to go or eat like he did. He acknowledged his family efforts, but all of them would have been still in that dusty past of mediocrity if Roman had not taken everything into his own hands knowing he was more than what the world saw.

- Don't try, don’t think about it, I wouldn't do it if I was in your place - he heard Jimmy warn, blocking the wise man from trying to come forward to break the silence of their meeting that had already started a few minutes ago without a word.

Roman heard him clear his throat anyway, but payed no attention until Jey, the only one sitting besides him and Y/N, decided to cut it short.

- I don't have any piece of paper with me – he announced, rubbing his hands on his legs.

Roman eyed him silently, slowly tilting his head and Jey shifted in his seat, face so serious as he settled himself better to speak.

He could broaden his shoulders and give himself as much tone as he wanted, but he would never be on his level, he would never be like him and it was evident. That meeting was ridiculous, disrespectful even.

- It's just between us for me. Families have nothing to do with it – he explained, quickly nodding to whoever was outside the door – Same for Solo, he's my brother... and Y/N, she's family too. He disappears with you though and won't set foot in the packland again as long as I'm here. – he concluded, pointing to the wise man who didn't even manage to mutter his disappointment before Roman burst out laughing.

He’s crazy and dumb.

His hoarse laugh echoed throughout the entire empty hall and he didn't bother to hide it or hold back, simply running a hand over his beard to regain control only after a while. With the entire family's eyes on him, he knocked the table with his hand, eyeing his cousin once more.

Jey. The little soldier Jey. Roman had tried to keep him close, to teach him how things worked, because he loved him and still he didn’t get it. Not a single thing. Anything at all.

He persisted with his speeches even a few days before the moment which Roman would have removed him from the family, putting everything on the table to play the good pup. He wanted the title, he wanted to chase him away, but he was willing to vouch for his family anyway, for Solo who had kicked him and even Y/N… as if there was only one scenario out of all the ones imaginable in which Roman would have left her if not as a deadman or it would have allowed him to realize the ideas he had in his dumb head. He still thought the problem was him or the advice the wise man had given him to stay on top, he thought he could keep his hands clean, not involve anyone and he didn't understand that the situation they were in already, was the exact reason for which he would never have survived in Roman’s place.

- You're wasting my time – he said, giving him an annoyed smile.

Jey didn't reply, cashing in without even a nod. He was good at cashing in, Roman acknowledged it, it was his talent, perhaps his only one, but it still wouldn't have been enough against him. He might be determined and willing to fight him one more time, but it would be no use. Roman had no limits and had learned over the years and blows what was needed to kept the role he had.

- Whoever will standing at the end decides, tha’s the deal, the stipulation. There's nothing else to say – he established, tone suddenly deadly heavy.

There was nothing he wasn't willing to do or lose to keep what was his.

He saw Jey nod, imitate him and stand up and in the silence of the room leave the table to join him. Face to face to each other, he stared at his reflection in his cousin's dark eyes, the ulafala still around his neck as it was in the photo of him on the wall and as it always would be. He squeezed Jey forearm and allowed that even if the bond between them no longer existed, their wolves shared a final breath.

Blood of my blood. Brother. Traitor.

When the air left his lungs again to fill them with the stale smell of the center, Roman let go without hesitation, Jey imitating him in a perfect mirror. However, was he who turned his back on his cousin this time to go away first, ignoring the wise man's sad look and those of the rest of the family outside waiting. Y/N who had been on the sidelines the entire time, unexpectedly joined him, her back straight and face betraying nothing as she took her place next to him. Roman didn't comment, there was nothing to say.

Two weeks and he would have control again. Only two weeks before moving on.

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[mssi]

#the fact that the crowd chanted swear words abour him and barça when celebrating spain winning is insane #i don’t understand the hate he gets when all he does is literally just playing football?? #like he’s a 18 year old kid leave him alone #this is why spain can rot in hell #i hope he's okay #ANYWAYS culés are proud of him <3 #gavi

[countess-of-edessa]

looking at the stepparents subreddit for five minutes should be enough to dissuade any person with children from attempting to date until they’re grown. it is so unkind to bring a random unrelated person into a child's home

#selection of posts from the last few days include— #i hate how much my 7 year old step daughter wants to hold and hug my baby it’s MY baby not hers #now that my stepson is 18 how do i tell him we don’t want him coming over every other week like custody said he has to #i hate when my boyfriend talks about his six year old daughter buying her gifts and taking her on trips. he should be doing that with me #these people hate your children #so much of what they complain about is just normal child behavior (tho children of divorce do often act out which makes sense) #but because these aren’t their children or people they love they just have no tolerance or understanding for these children #and they all circlejerk each other like yes this seven year old whose parents have divorced has a responsibility to act maturely to you #her father's girlfriend. set a boundary—don’t let her come back! #wow i wonder why all of these children are so mentally destroyed #everything would be perfect if he didn’t have kids :( well damn that sucks. die about it i guess or just leave him alone!

[keeksandgigz]

somewhere we can be alone

stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!fem!reader

a collab with @reidsbtch- mariah is literally the best person to collab with, it's like our brains were making out the whole time we were writing this. thank u for letting me collab with you to write this absolutely not self indulgent, way too long fic together <3

summary: Now on the tail end of graduating, Eddie Munson is required to take part in an extracurricular activity. He's assigned as stage manager for the school's production of Romeo and Juliet. You, the star of the show, aren't too happy to have your senior performance sabotaged by one long- haired metalhead.

word count: 7.7k words

warnings: no y/n, no physical description of reader, swearing, oral (m & f receiving), enemies to fuck buddies to lovers, mentions of queer!reader, it's actually just fucking smut, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), cream pie, use of nicknames (baby, sweets, sweetheart etc), eddie being a stupid lovable idiot

This and all of mine and mariah's works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

He’s been slumped in the guidance counselor’s office for thirty minutes, the wooden chair digging into his bones, growing uncomfortable as he listens to her, hardly believing he’s so close to leaving this fucking school himself.

“You’re keeping up your grades and maintaining regular attendance, Eddie. You’re just missing one last thing to be able to graduate.”

He rubs his face, maybe from the lack of sleep, or the restlessness of finally being able to leave the office he spent way too much time in during the past six years, as long as he keeps showing up to school for the next two months. He groans regardless.

“What would this ‘last thing’ be? Am I gonna be sent on a quest to slay a fucking dragon? Is that what’s gonna take me to graduate?” He snaps, the lack of sleep has finally gotten to him– school doesn’t really appeal to his late bird nature.

The counselor gasps at the crudeness of the profanity “Language!” She exclaims, like he’s never heard that before, daring to swear in front of students, staff and faculty alike, but the blonde lady with the ridiculously coiffed and teased and sprayed hair composes herself again, jutting a look down to his student folder again.

He imagines it to be full of red pen marks, every single one of those a proof of his own failure. He’ll steal it the day he graduates– and set it on fire. Hell, he’ll even roast marshmallows on it.

“Anyways,” she explains in a way that really shows the massive stick up her ass that makes her think Eddie should just stop bothering with school altogether. “You have to partake in an extracurricular activity.”

And he chortles. He was thinking something dreadful like picking trash up at the park or feeding and bathing the old people at the retirement home.

“Something funny, Mr. Munson?” Her nostrils are flared, she can’t wait ‘til he leaves her office.

“So like- like drama club and shit?” His tone is incredulous, he can deal with a couple lines to memorize. He’s had to do way worse for his Dungeon Master role, and even then, Miss George likes him– she’s let him and the club play DnD in her room for the past two years. Should be easy.

The counselor takes her glasses off her pointy nose, letting them hang with a tacky pink, flowery chain around her neck. “Well, yes– that’s one of the options. Unfortunately, your GPA is not high enough for you to partake in the school play, per se, so I can only place you in the backstage crew– building sets and moving things around. We’ll put that brain of yours to work.” She chuckles as she hands him a slip of paper to give to Miss George.

Eddie picks up his bag, “Real funny, huh.” He shrugs his shoulders and heads to the school auditorium. Last time he was there he’d gotten caught by a custodian while Terry Richardson’s face was stuck in between his legs, trousers pulled down halfway down his thighs as she gave him a toothy blowjob. He got suspended for a week.

He sees Miss George sat in the audience, scribbling notes onto a notepad as you recite the famous balcony monologue from Romeo and Juliet. He knows you, he’s seen you around– you’re by no means in the popular crowd, but you stand out, in the way that your clothes always seem to border the fine line of what's socially acceptable and outrageously eccentric.

Even if you’re not part of the popular crowd, there’s no denying that, like the rest of the school, you avoid him like the plague, cute as he is. You interrupt your monologue as you see him smirk down the central aisle of chairs. Miss George turns around at the sudden interruption. Eddie just hands her the slip.

“Oh my goodness!” she coos, “We have a stage manager.” And he wishes he could have photographed the look on your face. “Stage manager?! Miss George, you can’t be serious!” You exclaim as Eddie takes a seat next to her, kicking his boots up on the back of the chair in front of him.

A smirk ever present on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow at you. “He doesn’t have any experience.” You continue, not about to have your senior year performance ruined by Eddie Munson of all people. “Shouldn't be that hard to keep a diva like yourself in line, hmm?”

Eddie answers before Miss George has a chance to, the theater now going quiet except for a few snickers from the tech crew. “Alright, that’s enough from the both of you. Eddie, I’ll have our ASM get you up to speed. Now, please continue with the monologue.” The male only grins wider as you glare back, before looking back down at your script with a sigh.

He ventures backstage– not sure what ASM stands for and maybe too embarrassed to ask as he sees kids dressed in black moving wooden planks onto the stage, carrying cans of paints and brushes.

He taps a kid on his shoulder, arranging a prop table, he looks at Eddie like he’s seen a ghost.

“I was looking for the ASM?” The kid is looking side to side, still wondering why Eddie Munson is talking to him.

“Uhhh, she’s in the booth.” He mutters, before turning around and going back to his props. What the fuck is a booth?

Eddie just plainly decides to look for it himself, since nobody’s any fucking help in this school. He opens door after door- a storage closet, a closet just for wood, a bathroom. Arrived at the last door, he isn’t exactly sure he’s ever going to find this stupid ASM- and he still doesn’t know what that stands for.

The noise of a door opening startles you, as you try to put on your dress as quickly as you can to avoid flashing someone. It’s only when you see who it is that you start screaming, and with you, Eddie just pops a hand in front of his eyes, screaming a string of sorries, and that he hasn’t seen anything.

“I was just looking for the booth! Stop screaming!” he screeches, worried he’s gonna get himself in trouble with Miss George if she hears you screaming like you’re getting skinned alive. Thankfully, you stop, as Eddie looks away, aware of your exposed back peeking through the zipper. You clutch the fabric against you, struggling to zip up the back of your dress one-handed.

Eddie makes a whistling sound, distracting himself from the way you seem to be teetering between asking for his help and telling him to fuck off.

“The door to the booth is in the audience, by the way. Off to the side, there’s some stairs.” You huff, slightly getting your zipper up. He goes to turn around, but you stop him. He cocks an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes, lips in a thin line as you keep the door open with one hand.

“Can you make yourself useful and help me with my zipper?”

With an annoyed huff he steps fully into the dressing room, shutting the door behind him as you turn your back towards him once more. Carefully clutching the dress, your eyes meeting his in the long row of vanity mirrors in front of you. You can feel his warm breath on your neck as he steps closer, carefully lifting your hair over your shoulder.

Eddie’s fingers follow the seam of the unzipped garment, barely tracing the bare skin of your back. You try to hold off the shiver from passing through you as he slowly begins zipping it up. A hint of a smirk on his mouth as he notices the goosebumps breaking out across your skin. “Anything else princess? Or am I free to go?”

His fingers now fall away from you, clearing your throat as you try to shake off the arousal that was now coursing through your veins. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing how frazzled he had just made you.

Instead of answering, you just groan, eyes lifted up, going past him and clocking him in the shoulder as you headed back on stage. God you were fucking insufferable.

Eddie finds out that ASM means Assistant Stage Manager and that said ASM was none other than Max Mayfield, roped into doing theatre tech for extra credit. And that the booth was where they tampered with the lights and shit. All he had to do as Stage Manager for that rehearsal was oversee the light cues, which proved to be a little more complicated than he initially expected.

He messes up most of the cues in the first act before he finally seems to have gotten a grasp of it. All the while you’re tossing glares his way, using the light cues as an excuse for the harsh looks. But really it’s due to your annoyance at how the mere brush of his fingertips left you wanting more. Wanting more of him, despite your better judgment– you were not about to have him ruin your senior show.

And in spite of that, you closely follow Eddie’s actions. In a lull between scenes he stands up, you follow him with your eyes as he enters back into the auditorium, beelining backstage.

Eddie’s not totally sure what shit designer built the theatre, because he might as well have pissed himself on the way between the booth and the only bathroom in the auditorium. Not only that, but he kept missing cue after cue, followed by the dirtiest looks known to man, straight into his eyes. After the encounter you had in the dressing room– fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, feeling you shiver under his touch, he knew he had some kind of leverage over you.

So when he’s done taking a leak and looks down at the door, he’s sure you’re behind it, slipping a little piece of paper in the crack.

Meet me in the booth after rehearsal. XX

Eddie wouldn’t say he was nervous, his curiosity was piqued more than anything. However, he’s antsy the last half of the show, leg bouncing as he tries to listen and follow Max’s instructions. The girl gives him an annoyed lecture in between cues. But his mind’s a little preoccupied, trying to figure out what exactly you want from him.

So when he re-enters the dark light booth once everyone else has left, he doesn’t expect you to shove him up against the door, locking it with a swift click. His breath hitches in his throat, both in confusion, and at the fact that you’re fumbling with his belt, despite the dirty looks you’ve been giving him the whole afternoon.

“What uh- what are you doing?” His tone is alarmed, stammering as he tries to grab onto the door handle for purchase. You’re too busy getting his jeans down to bother.

“Sucking you off. That okay?” You look at him for a reassurance that comes almost immediately with a violent nod of his head.

He’s confused, but he’s not going to turn you down. After all, he felt the way you tensed under his touch while he was pulling up your zipper, “Shit, fine by me.” He shrugs, acting like he isn’t busting at the seams waiting for you to pull down his pants.

Eddie’s belt makes a clinking sound, along with his wallet chain while you pull his pants down to his thighs. You move his trembling body away from the door, against the table with the light console. His knuckles turn white as he grabs the edges on the table for support.

Gripping the hem of his checkered boxers, freeing his hardened length. Your eyes widening slightly at the sight of it, he’s big— a lot bigger than you expected. Even in the dim lighting he notices your shocked expression.

“Ya gonna just stare at it all night sweetheart?” He asks, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. You shoot another glare his way, before grasping the base of his cock in your fist, licking a long stripe up the shaft. Feeling satisfied as you hear his shaky intake of breath. Eagerly you take him past your lips, as a low groan leaves his own.

“Shit,” he curses as your warm mouth envelops him fully, ringed fingers knotting themselves in your hair. You open your mouth as wide as you can, taking him deeper. Gagging slightly as he hits the back of your throat, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as you try to adjust to his size. He’s by far the biggest one you’ve had.

“Talked such a big game with that mouth of yours sweetness, am I too much for you?” Your fingers dig into the skin of his thighs, his cock slipping from your lips as you pull back.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up Munson?” You huff, but before he can reply with another snarky remark your tongue is swirling around the tip of his cock. Silencing him for a moment as you take him back into your mouth.

Another string of curses falls from his lips, as his hips begin thrusting into your mouth with an abandon you haven’t seen before. Your cheeks are hollowed and he can feel himself getting embarrassingly close.

“F-fuck where- where’d you learn all of this?” It comes out in broken pants, and he can feel a smirk forming on your lips as you take him out a second time.

“One thing about theatre people is that we’re all gonna fuck each other. You should see how I eat pussy,” you shrug, putting him back in your mouth, and Eddie swears he’s about to bust in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna- fuck.” But he doesn’t get to finish that sentence, as you take him out of your mouth and stand back up.

Eddie’s bewildered expression is easy to read as he looks at you like you shot his dog. But you get close, dangerously close to his lips, your nose almost bumping his.

“That’s for fucking up my light cue, idiot,” it’s a feeble whisper against his lips before you’re gone into the darkness of the theatre. Too shocked to react, Eddie’s left with his pants pulled down for a good two minutes before registering what happened.

So he’s left blue balled in that stupid light booth, fuming and confused. There was no way in hell he would let you treat him like that and walk away the way you did.

Eddie had been scheming all week between rehearsals, attempting to find a good time to get you alone. He wasn’t about to let you get away with leaving him like that, but you were actively avoiding him.

But an opportunity fell into his lap without any effort on his part, Miss George asking you to stay behind to work on some blocking with her. As the stage manager he was required to stay behind too, his mind already reeling with possibilities.

So when you duck behind the curtain to change out of your costume, Eddie is quick to swoop in. Offering to shut down the lights and lock up, and Miss George is more than willing to let him.

By the time you get back on stage the theater is dark, the ghost light shining brightly center stage. “Eddie? Miss George?” You call out into the darkness, getting complete silence in return.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” You groan, clutching the strap of your book bag tightly. Of course he’d leave you in the dark theater to fend for yourself. “Asshole.” You mumble under your breath, reaching your hand out in front of you as you make your way across the dark stage.

You’ve bumped into multiple set pieces at this point, as you attempted to find the stairs leading down to the audience in complete darkness. Your frustration grows with each passing minute, that is until you hear the shuffling of feet.

“Hello?” You call out again, squinting as if it would help you see any better. Fear stirs in your gut as the theater is silent once more, shadows seeming to come to life in the corner of your eyes.

Once you finally reach the edge of the stage, you grip onto the railing tightly as you fumble your way down the stairs. Sighing in relief as you feel the carpet beneath your feet.

You only make it a few steps further before you feel a hand snaking around your waist, pulling you back into a hard chest. The other hand cupping itself over your mouth to muffle the scream that leaves your lips.

“Screaming for me already sweets? Haven’t even touched you yet.” His voice is mocking, his warm breath fanning across your neck as he laughs. You quickly squirm out of his grasp, a flashlight clicking on to illuminate his stupidly gorgeous features.

“You fucking psychopath! What were you thinking?” you shove him on the shoulder, he laughs as he zeroes in the flashlight on you, red in the face and furious.

“Had to get back at you for how much of a little tease you were the other day,” he croons. You purse your lips together, a deep blush spreading across your cheeks as you try to stabilize your still quickly beating heart.

“Whatever. Fuck you, Eddie.” You spit, but he’s quick to grab your arm and push it behind your back, the flashlight hitting the ground and rolling under one of the seats. His chest is pressed against your shoulder blades as you shudder in his arms.

“You’re not getting away so easily, sweetness.” He breathes against your earlobe as you keen into the warmth of his chest, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his free hand goes to your waist.

“This okay?” he murmurs, and you nod. A sharp nip to your earlobe makes you hiss.

“I can’t fucking see you nod, can I?” You can tell he’s having too much fun torturing you, feeling his hand travel all across your torso and chest.

“N-No,” you whimper.

“Exactly. Try that again,” his hand rests against the waistband of your jeans, awaiting an answer, teasing the skin behind the fabric. The tips of his fingers brush the skin there, making you whimper in response.

“This is okay.” you breathe out, and it’s the only answer he needs to slip his hand past your jeans, unbuttoning the offending material to push his hand further down into your pants.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers against your ear as his hand cups your clothed core. You waste no time grinding against the heel of his palm, letting small, breathy moans escape you. Afraid to get caught in the dead of night getting touched and fondled by the town pariah.

“You sound so pretty singing for me, don’t you sweets?” he whispers smugly. His hand feels a little too good against you, your hips grinding back and forth following the rhythm he was creating, “Hmm, but I think you can be a little louder.”

You gasp as he slips his hand inside your panties, his calloused fingers encircling your swollen clit. Your head falls back onto his shoulder, your hand gripping onto his thigh. His digits dip lower, teasing your entrance before slipping one inside and curling them up.

You can’t stop the shaky cry from leaving your lips, the sound now filling the auditorium. A smirk tugs at his mouth, using the heel of his palm to press against your clit. “Listen to that… you’ve got such a pretty voice don’t you?”

You dig your nails into the denim covering his thigh, a low groan sounding in his throat. “Wonder what it sounds like when you beg,” he easily adds another finger inside your wet cunt, thrusting them deeper. “N-Never gonna happen Munson.”

Eddie laughs, pulling another moan from you as his other hand drifts up under your shirt to cup your breast. “We’ll see about that.”

His breath is fanning hot and humid against your neck as you reach around to bring his head closer, needing him to be closer.

Nothing he’s saying is registering in your brain, as his fingers pump in and out of you with a torturous pace, feeling his wolfish grin plastered against the skin of your cheek.

He’s watching your every move, your every breath and whimper, biting his lip at the way your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his fingers curl up in a certain manner. You don’t think you have much time left before you release yourself all over his hand, and he knows it.

From the way you keep twitching and tightening around his fingers, he feels you’re getting close, but much like you did that night in the booth, he won’t let you get it that easily.

“Y’close sweets?” he groans, his own hips now grinding against the swell of your ass.

“Uh-huh,” is all you can manage to say, brain scrambled from his words and ministrations.

“You know what you gotta do now, don’t you, pretty?” he bites at the hinge of your jaw, as you cry out, the noise echoing in the empty theatre.

“You gotta beg for it.” And he hears you gasp at that, a dry chuckle leaves his lips. “You didn’t think I was gonna make you cum that easy did you?”

“Mmm- fuck you, Munson.” you struggle against your brain’s desire to one up him and your body’s desire for release.

“C’mon, don’t you want to cum? I bet you’re so pent up from a whole day of staring at me building sets, aren’t you?” and he’s right, your eyes did wander to his arms in his tight fitting t-shirt, with his hair tied up in a low bun as he hammered nails into wooden boards.

His fingers speed up and you can feel it, you’re so, so close.

“Please, let me,” you whine into his arm, biting at the muscle there. You’re getting so loud.

“That’s right, keep begging for me– good girl gettin’ nice and loud for me,” it’s a growl at this point, a string of please please please follow it. Tears pricking at your eyes with how intensely good he’s making you feel.

So close, so close–

He removes his fingers, jerking you out of that hazy state you were previously in. The male now removes himself from you, retrieving the flashlight from under the seat. Your chest is heaving as you turn to face him, anger now coursing through you as he grins devilishly down at you.

“How cute, you thought I was actually gonna let you cum with how you left me the other day?” Eddie’s laughter fills the theater as he steps closer to you. Your bodies almost touching, lifting his fingers that were just inside you up to your lips.

The brunette carefully drummed the digits against your mouth, “Now, be a good girl and clean up the mess you made.” You glare as you let his fingers slip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them in a teasing manner.

You noticed how his breath hitches, his cock straining uncomfortably in his jeans. But there’s no way that you’re helping him out with his little problem now. You playfully bite his fingers that are still in your mouth, as he utters an annoyed ‘ouch’ before taking them back out.

His fingers make their way to your scalp– yanking at the hair, making you hiss. “You think you’re fucking cute? I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal,” his tone makes you tremble, as he takes his hand out of your hair and disappears into the darkness of the theatre, leaving you once again in the dark.

You stumble down the side stairs of the stage and get out of the side door, quickly making your way home.

And it becomes a regular thing, you and Eddie blue balling each other to the point of frustration, like it’s a sick and twisted power game you both play. After rehearsal he offers to lock up for Miss George and you wait for him in one of the dressing rooms, or in the dimly lit booth. He’s become irritable, and you have as well.

If you were insufferable before, now you’re downright hateful as you yell at the light crew to stop messing up your spotlight moment, or that your costume felt too constricting or your prop too flimsy.

Everything has you on edge, but you don’t hesitate to meet Eddie every night that week after rehearsal. Maybe he’ll let you cum this time.

You wait for him backstage, sitting on one of the set pieces, a throne. There’s a dim overhead light shining on you. Eddie’s lip is caught between his teeth as he looks at you on his Dungeon Master throne.

“Get up.” he commands. The shirt he’s wearing is tight, it makes his shoulders look more prominent. You squeeze your legs together.

“Why should I? My legs are tired from being on my feet all rehearsal,” you give him a fake pout as he inches towards you.

“Because that’s my Dungeon Master throne,” it sounds funny coming out of his mouth, voice low and gravelly “It’s mine.”

You chuckle a bit at that, how is this man being territorial over a set piece?

“And what if I said no?” a smile trapped in between your teeth, looking up at him through your lashes.

A dry laugh escapes him as he crosses his arms, “You’re so spoiled huh? Think you can always get your way? Last time I checked, this week it’s been the total opposite, hasn’t it?” and he’s not wrong, he’s given you all but what you want.

“This is my theatre, Munson. I believe you’re on my turf.” and he laughs at that, like you’ve said some kind of joke.

“You do theatre, sweetheart, c’mon you can’t be serious.” he kneels in front of you, grabbing your thighs and moving them apart with ease.

“Don’t be a bitch, Munson.” you hiss, as you feel his lips on your exposed thighs, kissing the skin there.

He whistles, low and sardonic. A wicked smile on his lips “That’s rich coming from you, you’ve had that nasty little attitude this whole week.” he continues with his kisses, while his hand ghosts over your inner thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I wouldn’t have this nasty little attitude as you call it if you would just let me- fuck.” his free hand ghosts over your panties. Your skin is sensitive, your brain is sensitive. Another touch and you might explode.

“Hmmm, what was that?” he bites at the flesh of your thigh, a high pitched whimper falling from your lips “Need me fuck that little attitude out of you sweetheart?”

And you’ve been wound up so tight for the past week that it doesn’t take you long to rid yourself of your panties. He takes advantage of you standing up, plopping down to take his rightful seat on the throne.

That cocky smirk is adorning his features, but you wanted to smack it off. “As cute as you think you look in this seat… it’s always been my throne sweets.”

Before Eddie has time to mutter another snarky remark you’re climbing into his lap, crashing your mouth against his. You’ve learned throughout the past week that it’s really the only way to shut him up.

His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your hips, eagerly grinding yourself against the bulge in his pants. Eddie moans into your mouth, his tongue licking your lower lip. You part your lips, allowing him entry as your tongues fight for dominance.

He tastes like Twizzlers and cigarettes, a combination you shouldn’t find as delicious as you do. But it only seems to make you needier, the denim becoming damp as you continue to grind yourself onto him.

“Look at you making a fucking mess on my jeans,” he mumbles against your mouth, nipping at your lower lip which causes you to whine as he pulls away. His chest rumbles as he chuckles, grabbing your cheeks in his hand— forcing you to look at him.

“But I’d rather you make a mess on my cock sweetheart.” His words have your head reeling, the male now gripping behind your knees and lifting you up. You squeal in surprise, clutching onto his shoulders to steady yourself. “Eddie, put me down.”

He carefully lets you slide down his front until your feet touch the ground, spinning you around before bending you over the armrest of his throne. His hands travel up your bare thighs, taking his time to appreciate your soft skin.

“Are you going to fuck me or not Munson?” You huff, the male now flipping up your skirt and landing a harsh smack on your ass. “So goddamn impatient aren’t you?”

You hear the sound of his belt clinking open, the zipper being tugged down. It makes you clench your thighs together, something Eddie didn’t miss. His fingers dipping between your legs, teasing you further.

“Trained you well didn’t I baby?” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, despite how your stomach flipped at the word baby.

And you can feel him then, carefully lining himself at your entrance as you try to grind back into him. A firm hand against your hips stops you. “Ready? I’m gonna go slow,” he mutters, and there’s a gentleness in his words, despite his meanness in how he’s handling you.

You hum in approval and brace yourself. There’s a loud groan coming from behind you as he slips inside your warm heat, reveling in how you almost suck him in, a small gasp leaving you from the stretch.

“Big stretch, huh?” he coos in a cocky lilt, and you almost wanna reach around and punch him, but this idiot has your eyes rolling back from the fullness, and he’s not even all the way in yet.

So you nod, followed by a needy little whine that makes him chuckle low in his chest– you need him that much?

He goes deeper, spurred on by your noises, by how much you need him to fill you up. A sardonic smile on his lips as he bottoms out and slams all the way in, causing you to shriek.

Eddie sets a fast pace, not really giving you any time to adjust, but he’s already nudging that spot deep within you, making you see stars.

You hear him groan, “So fuckin’ tight, aren’t you sweets?” and it’s a rhetorical question, because your tongue feels too big for your mouth and there’s nothing coming out of it besides unintelligible whines and moans as you hold on to the armrest across from you.

Your noises only encourage him to go faster, and it’s almost too much the way he’s hitting that sweet spot inside you. You try to distance yourself from him, just enough to catch your breath, but he grabs your shoulders, using them as leverage to ram deeper into you.

He leans over, his clothed chest against your back, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Goin’ somewhere, baby? Thought you could handle me.” He bites at your earlobe, and there’s just so much going on in your brain that you can’t possibly muster any response to whatever he’s telling you.

“Oh I said that, didn’t I? When we first met. I said I could handle a spoiled little diva like you, and look at that,” he laughs, and you’re sure you’re about to combust. Your fingers reach to grip the cushioned seat of the throne, as another wail leaves your lips.

“Singin’ my praises now aren’t you baby?” The wood of his throne digs into your hips and stomach as he pushes you further into it, a feline movement as he drapes himself off and over you, his hands now gripping the armrest opposite of you for purchase.

Your legs begin to give out, as you beg God or whatever entity up there that he won’t give into his sick little game. That he’ll let you cum this time.

“Shit, sweets, you’re gripping me so tight.” he grunts, a boyish grin on his face as small uh uh uhs fill the room.

“Should we let you cum tonight? We can’t have you being a bitch tomorrow, it’s the end of hell week,” he jokes, and it almost feels humiliating, how he can make fun of you like this and you’re just going to keep fucking yourself back onto him.

“God- Fuck- Please!” you beg, with all the strength you can muster, and he can’t help but let a satisfactory grunt leave his lips.

“Look at you begging, don’t even have to ask now, do I?” and you can feel him twitch inside you. He’s also getting close.

“Ready?” he huffs, with the last little bit of stamina he has, and you can’t brace yourself enough for the wave of pleasure that washes over you with the last few snaps of Eddie’s hips as you come undone with a loud cry, echoing through the dark halls of the theatre.

“Fuck, okay, where should I–” he begins, he’s at his wits end.

“In…side,” is all you can say before he stills himself inside of you, letting his release take over him with a loud groan. His warm cum painting your inner walls, leaving you feeling satiated.

Eddie stabilizes his breath, forehead leaning against your shoulders, days on days of pent up frustration hanging like mist in the air. You’re both able to think clearly for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs, lifting himself off of you as he slowly slips his cock out. You can feel his cum beginning to drip down your thighs, your legs wobble as you attempt to stand. Knees buckling as you try and find your discarded panties.

“Whoa there, I got ya,” he wraps his arm around your waist, holding you against his warm chest. It felt good, leaning against him like that. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, “I’m fine Eddie.”

You push yourself off only to nearly fall once more, an annoyed grumble leaving his lips, “Are you always so stubborn?” He reaches down for your panties, guiding you to sit on the edge of the throne so he could help pull them up your thighs.

It was an unusually tender action, and not one that you expected from him. “Thought you didn’t want me sitting here?” You tease, his brown eyes glancing up as he’s kneeling before you.

“I’ll let it slide this one time,” he chuckles, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grin. A dimple you had never noticed before indenting his cheek, another feature that now found annoyingly attractive.

You roll your eyes at him and stand up, “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow after rehearsal.” You quip, as you try to wobble off the stage, he runs after you.

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you walk home like this,” and there’s a tender look in his eyes, something close to genuine concern. “My van is out front, I can drive you.” He points in a general direction behind him, and you want to say no so badly.

But you don’t, and now you find yourself being driven home by Eddie. His dingy van smells like cigarettes and weed and it squeaks every time he goes over a bump. There’s loud music blaring through the stereo speakers and an uncomfortable silence between the two of you.

“So uh, you excited for next week?” Eddie’s the first to break the silence, briefly turning towards you.

“I’m actually kinda nervous,” you admit, sinking into the seat. “It’s a big role, big shoes to fill. I guess I’m just scared I’m not gonna be any good.” You chuckle, almost embarrassed at your admission.

“You? Not good? I’ve seen you, y’know? I’m not just staring at your tits during rehearsal. You’re pretty darn good.” He gives you a half smile at that, pulling up next to your house.

You’re a bit flustered by his compliments, finding yourself not wanting to leave his company just yet.

“Thanks, Eddie. I appreciate it,” you smile at him.

“And hey, if you still feel nervous opening night come find me— I’ll help you,” he winks at you and you can’t help but laugh, as you see him looking at you with a big grin on his face.

You look at him back, and God, maybe it’s the streetlights or the moon, but he’s never been more beautiful. In a leap of courage you lean over the dashboard and peck him on the lips.

As you detach from him and reach for the door handle, he pulls you back in deeper, searing and intense, one of those kisses that have your tummy flipping. Except it’s not in the comfort of the theatre, and without an underlying motive behind it.

Just you and him. In his van.

You let your lips part, give him access to your mouth, but he stops you.

“It’s midnight,” he whispers against your lips. “Dress rehearsal tomorrow, you need to rest.” He smiles as you place another peck on his lips. Pouting as you reach for the door handle. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you until you’re inside, seeing the light of your room turn on.

Once he knows you’re safe, he starts his van back up and pulls away from your house with the cheesiest grin on his face.

Opening night. It’s finally here.

You should feel excited, and yet all you want to do is lock yourself in one of the broom closets and hide. You’ve never felt so nervous before, thinking of all the different outcomes that could occur. What if you forget all your lines? Or you have an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction during a quick change?

Your mind is reeling as you enter the dressing room, the rest of the cast buzzing excitedly around you. You fake a smile and sit at your station, noticing the bouquet of lilies resting on the counter top. You can feel yourself flushing, opening the card that came with it.

Break a leg Juliet xx.

You ask around the rest of the cast but no one knows who left them, and while you hoped they came from a certain metalhead… you couldn’t be so sure. Your little cat and mouse game had suddenly turned into something very real, and part of you was afraid it would be over once the curtains closed.

You get ready for the show in a daze, now staring at yourself in the dressing room mirror as nerves rage through your insides. The rest of the cast had dissipated, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

“There’s the leading lady,” Eddie’s voice snaps you out of your haze, meeting his eyes in the mirror’s reflection. He must have noticed the look of panic across your features, as he rushes to your side.

You give him a weak smile in return, letting a heavy exhale escape past your lips.

“So uhhh, did you like the flowers?” He asks, and he can see your eyes light up in the mirror, momentarily forgetting nerves, fear and anxiety.

“So it was you,” he coaxes you to face him, kneeling next to you with a large grin.

“T’was I, fair maiden.” He does a half bow from his kneeling position, making you giggle.

“So you’re in love with me now?” You tease, as Eddie’s hands come to rest on your thighs, spreading them as much as he can in your dress before moving in between them.

“I’m literally going to die from nerves, what if I mess up my lines?” you begin, but Eddie seems to have much different plans.

“There she is….” he murmurs, more to himself.

You feel the heat pool in your middle at his words, squirming a little in your seat. Eddie reaches to cup your chin, tilting it down so you meet his gaze. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, “You know, my offer still stands Lady Capulet.”

“Here? The doors are literally opening in fifteen minutes, don’t you have stage manager things to take care of?” your tone is alarmed, rather, a mix of alarm and excitement.

“My job as stage manager right now is to make sure Juliet feels comfortable enough to go on stage,” he grins, peppering kisses over your hand and wrist.

“But what if we get caught? Or you make me cum so hard I forget my lines?” The nerves make you ramble, as his chin rests on one of your thighs.

“As good as I am at eating you out sweetheart, I doubt that’ll happen.” He bunches the fabric of your costume up your thighs, beginning to give sweet caresses on the skin of your legs.

You seem unconvinced, still.

“Look, I’ll sweeten the deal. If you get all your lines right, which I don’t doubt you will, I’ll take you out on a date.” His lips are pursed in a coy smile.

Your eyes widen, “Like a date date? You and me?” and your heartbeat picks up.

“Who else, idiot?” Eddie laughs, which makes you smile, “Now,” he begins.

“Do you want me to do something about those jangled nerves of yours?” And you can’t help but bite your lip and nod.

His lips begin trailing up your thighs, a shiver running through you from his tender actions. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” He pauses, shifting closer as he switches sides, now leaving open mouth kisses along your opposite thigh. “It is the East, and Juliet is the sun.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat as he works his way to your clothed center, his eyes flicking up to look at you. “Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon… and whatever the fuck else Romeo says.” Eddie chuckles before eagerly pressing his mouth against your clothed pussy, his tongue lapping at the wet spot on the cotton.

A gasp bubbles deep in your throat at the sensation, feeling the bliss of his tongue through the cotton barrier, your body easing up from its nervous state.

He looks up at you, “Good, huh?” He hums through the fabric, and you’re wound up so tight you’re already panting.

He taps the side of your thigh to get you to lift your hips, removing your panties in the process.

A low whistle escapes him as you spread your legs for him again, “Talk about eating in costume, baby, jeez.” He chuckles, and the joke makes you laugh too.

A short lived laugh at that, turning into a breathless gasp when his tongue makes contact as he begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

Your hand immediately goes to tug at his curls, not caring that they’re tied up and out of his face to be able to see the cue sheets. The delicious pull at his scalp makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A low moan falls out of your lips, catching yourself, hand flying to your mouth as you hear the rest of the cast clamoring outside.

“Gotta be quiet, Lady Capulet,” he snickers as he goes back to burying his face between your legs. His tongue darting in and out of you as a hand reaches for your mouth, wetting two of his fingers.

You don’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him, a bite at the juncture between your pelvis and your thigh, “Atta girl.” He mumbles against the wet skin, popping his fingers out of your mouth to tease at your entrance.

“That’s it baby, focus on me.” A whine escapes you as you’re now grinding on his tongue, his fingers enter you slowly, head thrown back in pleasure.

“You nervous, baby?” He asks, a cocky smile on his face. His fingers curl upward, your eyes squeeze at the overwhelming sensation.

You shake your head, still sentient. Not too far gone yet.

“You gonna use me to get off, my lady?” His fingers are pumping faster, feeling tears brimming on your waterline, hoping to not spill all over your face, your stage makeup seems to be in precarious conditions.

A familiar warmth, deep in the pool of your tummy, “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” You know how much he likes to hear you sing for him. His spare hand grabs onto your thigh, rings biting the soft skin there, feeling yourself teetering on the edge.

“Thaaaat’s it, you’re doing so well,” he whispers. One more pump of his fingers and you cum with a silent cry, biting onto your hand, feeling yourself pulsate around his fingers.

Without much warning he slips them out, sucking on his own fingers, tasting your own delicious essence.

“Places!” You hear Miss George say backstage, as Eddie retrieves your panties for you and slips them up your legs.

Eddie fixes his hair in the mirror, tying them back. He places a kiss on your cheek with a hurried, “Good luck— uh fuck I meant break a leg.” Then he furtively leaves the dressing room.

You feel a blush spreading across your body, finally relaxed and ready to begin the show.

You leave the dressing room, joining the rest of the cast, full of excitement. You know all your love monologues are going to be directed towards a certain metalhead tonight.

The show goes smoothly and you don’t forget a single line, you’re surrounded by family and friends, ready to do it all again the day after.

You go back into the dressing rooms to grab your stuff and change, but a long mop of curly hair occupies your chair.

“Eddie, you can’t be here!” you whisper, as he turns around with the biggest smile plastered on his face.

“Just wanted to tell my girl congratulations in private. You smashed it tonight,” you blush at the nickname.

“Since when am I your girl?” you ask, not letting him see how much it affected you.

“Since you kissed me in my van when I dropped you off, gorgeous.” He flirts, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth.

“So, how about that date?”

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

tagging: @thornsnvultures, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @duuhrayliegh, @ali-r3n, @sunnythevampireslayer, @bimbobaggins69, @jamdoughnutmagician, @eiightysixbaby, @aphrogeneias, @daisy-munson, @gravedigginbbydoll, @s6raphic, @take-everything-you-can, @strangerstilinski

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #stage manager!eddie munson x theatre kid!reader #eddie munson fluff

[justagalwhowrites]

Stranger in a Bar - Part One

A DBF!Joel Fic

You meet a stranger in a bar, one who is fun and sexy and makes you wonder if the single life is all it's cracked up to be. But there's one big problem: you probably shouldn't be fucking your dad's best friend.

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: This is smut, OK? Just a lot of smut. Protected P in V sex. Oral sex (m and f receiving). Age gap of 20 years. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 6.8k

A/N: So this was supposed to be a one shot and then it started getting out of hand. It's going to just be two parts for the moment, this is going to be a very little baby fic, OK? Small. Lil baby story. Also. there's a hefty age gap and it comes up because logistics but no power imbalance. Thanks for always putting up with my shit, y'all are the best ❤️

Bar None, Present day

One of your friends had just put Single Ladies on the jukebox when you saw him across the bar. Bar None, the place you’d picked for the night, had one of those stupid app-powered ones and the three girls you had kept in touch with from high school had been abusing it all night long. But the man across the bar was so distracting that you hardly noticed. His eyes were locked on you, so tight and hot that it would send a chill up your spine if it was from the wrong set of eyes. But they were his eyes. Dark and molten and set into a sculpted face with patchy scruff and shaggy curl streaked with gray. 

No, you thought, he couldn’t spark anything but desire. 

“We should do the dance!” Your friend Emily slurred, tugging your arm. “C’mon! Now that you’re a single lady again, you have to own it.” 

She flashed her empty ring finger as Beyonce sang, a cocky - if half drunk - look on her face as she did. 

You smiled at her. 

“He did put a ring on it,” you twisted the stem of your martini glass. “That’s why there was a problem when he put his dick in someone else. I think I’ll pass on the Beyonce. But thank you.” 

“Come on drunky,” your friend Dana looped her arm around Emily’s waist. “Let’s go dance.” 

“Woooo!” Emily threw her arms in the air and Dana gave you an exasperated but happy smile over her shoulder as she guided her to the dance floor. 

“Jesus, is it that late?” Parker looked at her Apple watch. You half smiled and took a small sip of your drink as she rifled through her clutch for her phone and let out a relieved sigh. “Thank God, Kevin hasn’t been texting with a ton of stupid questions. Why did I think letting a baby get totally attached to me was a good idea? The fact that she only said mama for two weeks was great at first but now that she refuses to do bedtime without me, I’m having regrets…” 

“Do you need to go?” You asked, brows raised. 

She winced.

“Would you hate me if I left you with the party animals?” 

You laughed. 

“No,” you said. “Go home, see your husband and kid. I really do appreciate the warm welcome back, you have no idea.” 

“See?” She reached across the small table and gave your arm a squeeze. “I told you, just like old times.” 

“Did you go back home at 10:30 to make sure a baby was properly put to bed when we were 18?” You teased. “I forgot that part…” 

She rolled her eyes. 

“Almost old times,” she said. “Besides, you love Bella.” 

“I do love Bella,” you said. “And I love you. Go home, I’m good.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Positive. Text me when you get there?” 

“Of course,” she slipped off the bar stool and came around to give you a hug and kiss your cheek. “I really am glad you’re back. Even if it’s because Reid was a dumbass.” 

You just smiled a little and watched her leave, Parker pausing to wave to Dana on her way out the door. 

“This seat open?” 

The man from across the bar stood beside you, nodding to the seat Parker had just vacated. You smiled a little and nodded once. 

“You have very convenient timing.” 

“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.” 

“And how’s that going for you these days?” 

He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled. 

“Well enough.” 

You looked at him, tracing the creases in his face with your eyes, the streaks of gray catching the low light of the bar. He was probably the oldest man there but damn, did he wear it well. 

“You in town for a visit?” He asked, turning his beer bottle in his fingers and nodding to your friends on the dance floor. “Seeing friends?” 

You cocked a little smile at him. 

“No, actually. Just moved back.” 

He raised his eyebrows, a look you couldn’t quite place passing over his warm features. His eyes drifted to your ring finger before he seemed to catch himself and look back at your face. You saved him the trouble, lifting your bare left hand and turning it so he could see. The indentation from your three carat engagement ring was still on your finger but your hand was empty. 

“I think we should talk, Joel.” 

Bar None, 10 years earlier 

The man across the bar had no damn business being that good looking. 

It was almost pissing you off how good looking he was. Tall, broad, with golden skin and thick, dark hair, he had the kind of face you wanted to explore intimately, in the way you could only do when someone was inside of you. The way men couldn’t control their expressions then was almost addicting. The way their eyes would roll back and their mouths would fall open, the way they stopped fucking around with pretense and just let themselves feel something - even if it was just your cunt - was beautiful and fascinating and almost elemental. It was like you could look into the very core of them for a moment, the way they always seemed to be able to look into you with just a glance. You wanted that with this man, whoever he was, this man who you caught glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“Aww,” Parker pouted happily at her phone. “Kevin misses me!” 

“Misses you?” Emily snatched the phone from her grasp, gaping at the screen. “You’ve been gone like two hours!” 

“Will you just…” Parker snatched the phone back and looked at the text again. “And I think it’s sweet.” 

“You’re ditching us, aren’t you?” Emily sighed. 

“I think so,” Parker winced. “Is that OK?” 

You just smiled a little. 

“Go see the guy who’s got you all crazy,” you said. “But I’ll see you again before I leave town, yeah?” 

“Course!” She came and gave you a hug. “Good luck getting rid of me. Have fun at that thing tomorrow!” 

“Yeah,” you laughed. “I’ll try.” 

Emily rolled her eyes and judged Parker for a bit but it was less than an hour before she was leaving, too, with a man who’d asked her to dance and bought her a beer. 

“You sure you’re alright?” She asked as she went to leave. 

“Babes, I know how to be at a bar on my own. And my hotel is two doors down. I think I can figure it out.” 

She kissed your cheek. 

“Love you,” she said. “Try to have some fun!” 

You watched her go, thinking about just how long you wanted to be sitting by yourself at a bar versus in a Holiday Inn Express standard room when a voice appeared beside you. 

“This seat open?” 

The man from across the bar nodded to the seat Emily had just abandoned. You smiled a little and nodded once. 

“You have very convenient timing.” 

“Well,” he shrugged. “Leaving a pretty girl all alone at the bar seems like a crime. Trying my damndest to stay on the right side of the law.” 

“And how’s that going for you?” 

He smirked a little. His cheek dimpled. 

“Well enough.”

You smiled and introduced yourself before holding out your hand. He took it. 

“Joel,” he said. “Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” 

“Because I’ve never been here before,” you smiled. “I’m in from out of town, my hotel is a few doors down. This was convenient and hey, the Yelp reviews weren’t the worst.” 

“What brings you to the great city of Austin, Texas?” He asked, settling in on the seat beside you. He was older than you but you kind of liked men that way now that you were in your mid 20s and exhausted by every man you’d dated in college. You liked them a little older, more established, men who knew how to cook their own damn food and give you your own damn orgasm. “Business or pleasure?” 

“Neither,” you smiled a little, taking a sip of your drink. “Family event.” 

“That’s not pleasure?” 

You laughed once.

“Not the way my family does it.” 

“That why you’re in a hotel and not stayin’ with them?” He asked, brows raised. 

“Bingo,” you replied. “I get in, I get drunk, I get out.” 

He nodded slowly. 

“Good system.” 

“Worked well enough for me over the years.” 

The two of you ended up talking about music and books and UT football until last call - far later than you’d intended to stay out. 

“Mind if I walk you back to your hotel?” Joel asked. “Not tryin’ to be a creep but… I’d sleep a lot better tonight knowin’ you got back safe. Promise it’s not a ploy.” 

“Damn, it’s not?” You asked, tucking your purse on your arm and heading for the door. “Because I was going to ask you to come up to my room if it was.” 

“Well shit,” he said, catching up with you. “Maybe it is a ploy then.” 

You found yourselves drawing out the walk back all the same, pace more of an amble than a brisk walk, but the hotel was so close that it really only added a few minutes to your walk all the same. 

“Well,” you smiled at the door to the lobby. “This is me.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded once, looking inside for a moment before looking back at you. “Look… you don’t owe me anything, alright? I’m not the kind of guy who wants to force something. I can just head on back to my truck, no hard feelings…” 

“Well maybe none for you,” you teased a little. “But I might have some. Unless you really don’t want to fuck me.” 

“Oh, I want to,” he said. “Trust me on that…” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Been at the top of my list since you first walked in that place, baby, lemme tell you.” 

“Well then,” you jerked your head toward the door. “Why don’t we cross it off the list?” 

You took his hand in the elevator, his palm so broad, his fingers thick and long and callused in yours. You pressed your back against the wall and pulled him onto you so his hips were on yours and his nose brushed your own. His eyes ranged over your face, hungry and soft and open. 

“You sure about this?” He asked, looking down at the rest of your body for a moment before going back to your face. “Sure you don’t have something better to do than some old man?” 

“I’m sure,” you smiled at him, draping your arms over his shoulders. “Besides, I like old men. How old are you, anyway?” 

“Forty-five,” he said. “How old are you?” 

You snorted. 

“I’m not sure I should say,” you said, holding him a little closer all the same. “Since you’re all hung up on age…” 

“Not hung up on it,” he rolled his eyes. “Just… don’t need to be some youthful mistake is all. Wait, Jesus, please tell me you’re at least out of college, tell me you’re not a teenager…” 

You laughed. 

“No,” you shook your head. “Not a teenager. And I’ve been out of college a few years, I’m 25.” 

“God,” he closed his eyes and shook his head once, like he was trying to shake the idea of you loose. “Still, that’s… you’re…” 

You pressed your lips ever so slightly against his, more a quick brush than anything else, giving him every opportunity to pull back. 

He didn’t take it. 

Instead, he pressed his lips to yours, his hands going to your waist and tugging you tightly to his body while he pushed you back against the wall. Your arms got tighter to him and you opened your mouth, his tongue licking into you almost immediately. Joel didn’t need an engraved invitation, all he needed was a sign that you wanted him and fuck, you wanted him. More and more, each passing second, you wanted him. There was heat in you that was starting to flare so molten and hot that you pulled at his clothes, forgetting that you weren’t alone, not really. 

The elevator dinged and he all but sprang back from you, both of you panting for breath. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, looking you up and down, pupils blown. 

“C’mon,” you took his hand. “I’m down the hall.” 

You pulled him along behind you and fumbled to get your room key out of your bag. Joel’s wide, thick hands slipped around your waist as you did, tugging your ass back against his growing bulge and fuck, but he was huge. Thick and long and you knew his zipper had to be fucking killing him, cock that big and hard restrained by mere fabric and a slip of metal. His lips found the hinge of your jaw, your neck, down to your shoulder and you groaned a little as you clumsily forced the keycard in the door, the little beep the mechanism gave one of the best damn sounds you’d heard all night. 

The two of you practically fell into your hotel room. You dropped your purse on the first table inside the door and started stepping out of your heels as Joel turned you around to face him, manipulating your body to put you right where he wanted you and the fire in you sparked higher, brighter as he manhandled you. Every touch he gave was loaded with need, the air thick and heavy with it as he pawed at your clothes and skin, licking into your mouth at every opportunity, taking your chin firmly in his heady grip to tug you open further for him, all but forcing you to give him everything. 

You were as rough with his clothes as he was with your body, pulling so hard and fast at the buttons of his shirt that two popped free, pinging off the glass of the mass produced art that hung on the wall. 

“Shit,” you panted, looking around the dark of your room for the buttons. 

“Don’t give a fuck,” Joel replied, breathless, clutching you close and tight before you could pull away. “Didn’t really like this shirt, anyway.” 

You shoved it down and off as he tugged your dress down your body, leaving it in a pile on the floor before turning you so the backs of your legs were against the bed. He deftly unhooked your bra with one hand then, ripping the straps down your arms but almost reverently lowering the cups, panting for breath as he exposed your breasts to his gaze. Joel tossed your bra to the side before taking the soft weight of your tits in his hands, cupping them, brushing his thumbs over your hardening nipples as he looked down at you with a look of near awe on his face. You half expected him to shove you back down onto the bed after his race to get you undressed but instead, his arm went around your waist, his hand splaying wide over the smooth skin of your back and he pulled you tight against him, making you gasp. 

He moaned, deep and low, and dropped his head to your bared shoulder before trailing his nose over you to your neck, the wet heat of his breath on your skin. 

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn soft,” he groaned, almost pained, and pressed his lips to your throat, making your breath catch. You clung to the broad expanse of his back, fingertips pressing into him, trying to get at every inch of his skin that you could find. 

His mouth found yours and he gently, delicately, lowered you back onto the bed. He cradled your body against his own, keeping the firm line of him taut to you as he kissed you. Joel rested you on the mattress and you let your legs fall open so he could settle between your thighs, the heady weight of him pressing against your clit and making you moan. 

“You got a problem if I explore this pretty body of yours?” He asked, his lips still brushing yours when he spoke. “Because fuck, baby, seems like a sin to not touch every goddamn inch of you.” 

He rocked his thick, hard, still clothed cock against your core, as if to make his point, and took your responding moan as the yes it was. He trailed his lips slowly over your body, down your throat, your breast bone, your stomach, your navel. His nose brushed against you, his breath covering you in warm and needy pants. When he reached your underwear - the last thing still on your body - his fingers looped through the band before he paused, looking up at you over your stomach and between your breasts. 

“You still with me, pretty girl?” He asked, mouth so close to your skin that the wetness of his lower lip had caught on your stomach. “Still good with this?”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you were practically squirming. He was so close to precisely where you needed him it seemed like you might melt with the want of him. “Fuck, please…” 

“Fuck, you’re even prettier when you beg,” he said and started to pull your panties down over your hips. You lifted yourself up off the bed to help and it wasn’t long before you were naked below him. He knelt in front of you and took your knees in his hands, parting your thighs for him and groaning when he did. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed, so quiet you weren’t sure you were meant to hear it or if he’d meant to say it out loud at all. “Just… fuck.” 

He opened your legs enough to lay between them, settling with your thighs over his shoulders. His thumb traced a slow, tender path over your slit, brushing your clit and making you gasp when he did. 

“Swear you’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said before he pressed his lips to your leaking hole. He moaned as he did and you couldn’t help but thrust against him once. He pulled back from you just a little, his nose barely touching your clit as he did. “Needy little pussy, too, huh?” 

Your fingers knotted in the bedspread and Joel’s mouth found your clit, softly sucking the sensitive nub between his teeth to tease with his tongue. You fought the urge to rock your hips against his face, trying to remember that this man was practically a stranger, not a lover whose tastes you knew intimately. But that was hard to remember as he worked his way lower, his tongue slipping inside of you with a deep groan. 

Joel ate you like you were a delicacy he longed to savor. He started slow, tasting and teasing you open, before delving deep like he couldn’t resist it, his thick tongue exploring and finding the soft and tender places inside you. His thumbs spread you open wide to him, his nose against your clit and you couldn’t stop yourself, you rolled your hips against him. He moaned into you and you forced your hips down on the bed, trying to clear your head enough to be still. 

“Sorry,” you panted. “I didn’t mean to do that, you’re just… really fucking good at that.” 

He stopped and pulled back from you enough to look up your body again, a frown on his face, your slick glistening on his beard in the light from the parking lot outside. 

“You think I don’t want you fucking my face?” He asked. “Fuck, baby, I want nothing more than for you to take exactly what you need. Want you to make yourself come on my face, you understand?” 

You swallowed and nodded. 

“What are you going to do?” He asked, voice almost stern. 

“Make myself come on your face?” You more asked than answered. 

“Better sound more sure than that,” he said, fingers moving to your clit. You gasped and moaned at the contact. “Come on baby, what are you going to do? Say it. Own it.” 

“Come on your face,” you panted. “Fuck, Joel… I’m going to come on your face, I’m going to make myself come on your face, please…” 

“Good,” he said, going back to eating your pussy. 

It was like he’d been holding back before but had nothing stopping him now. His tongue pressed deep, his nose nestled in your slit to nudge your clit, his arms looped over the thickness of your thighs to keep you open for him while also pressing the softness of you to the sides of his head. Your orgasm built quickly, the heat in you sinking to your core, everything inside you there going taut and tense. You were just on the edge of it, whimpering below his tongue and his touch when one hand left the warmth of your thigh and moved to your slit, his finger sliding inside you alongside his tongue. He pressed into the soft, tender place inside you that seemed to elude other men, finding it with an almost practiced ease and moaning when he did, sending the sparks of your climax shooting through you. 

He groaned, needy, as he ate you through it, not letting up, not even for a second until your orgasm had subsided and your head was swimming. 

“Fuck you feel amazing,” he pulled himself from you, sucking the finger that was inside you clean before wiping your slick from his beard while his other hand traced over the smooth softness of your inner thigh. “Should’ve asked this sooner but… please tell me you’ve got a damn condom. I wasn’t exactly lookin’ for this tonight, not until I saw you, so I’m not exactly prepared.” 

“I do,” you propped yourself up on your elbows, trying to remember where the hell you left your suitcase in the dark. You spotted it on the dresser, thankfully still mostly organized since you’d arrived that afternoon. You nodded to it. “Suitcase, top zipper pouch inside the lid.”

He got one, the crinkle of foil strangely loud in the silence of the room. 

“Here,” you sat up and reached for him as he came to stand between your legs at the edge of the bed. “Let me do it…” 

He gave you the packet and you opened it before palming the condom, holding it tight in one hand while slipping the other into the open zipper of his jeans and into his underwear to find his thick, heavy cock. 

You moaned as you wrapped your fingers around his length, hard as steel wrapped in silken skin, and you stroked him, just half way up his cock at first before going from root to tip. He was dripping there, his arousal making his head slick and wet. You brushed your thumb over his leaking tip, the smooth skin making your mouth water. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you leaned forward to lick him before taking just the very end of his cock between your lips. You suckled at him gently, lapping up his precome, Joel’s breaths getting heavier and faster as you did, before you took him into your mouth. He moaned as you sucked him, his hand going to the back of your head and holding you against him, your nose brushing against the base of his stomach. You took his head into your throat and moaned around him as you sucked him, making him hiss in pleasure, his grip on your skull tightening. 

“Fuck, woman,” he managed as you kept sucking him. “Gonna make me come if you keep doin’ that…” 

You pulled back from him slowly, his hold on you easing as you did, until he slipped from your mouth, still slick with your spit. 

“Should probably stop then,” you said, a little breathless. You took the condom - warm now from the heat of your hand - and put it over his head before rolling it over his thick shaft. You stroked him once, twice and leaned forward again, sucking his tip for a moment when it was in place and his head tipped back, staring at the ceiling as he groaned. 

“Jesus,” he panted. “Fuck, you gonna let me inside that soft little pussy of yours or make me come in your mouth?” 

You laughed once, needy and low, before pulling yourself backwards on the bed, Joel’s eyes hungry on your body as you went. He shucked his jeans and underwear off before crawling, finally naked, between your thighs. His head brushed against your sex and he took the base of his cock in his hand, trailing his tip up and down your dripping slit before spreading you open for him, your pussy swollen and tender as he did. He put his tip against your dripping entrance, pressed just the very end of him inside, barely opening you to him. His hands moved to your thighs, brushing over them to your knees before trailing back toward your center, his fingers splayed wide over you soft flesh. 

“You ready, baby?” He asked, needy. 

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d passed ready a long time ago. You were desperate now, aching and all but begging for him to take up every empty space inside your body. 

“Good,” he pressed forward until his head was fully inside your tight channel and you both moaned with it, one of your hands finding the smooth skin of your breast and squeezing it. He groaned at the sight as he started fucking just the tip of him into you, rocking in and out of you in short, sharp bursts. “Fuck, there you go baby. Just like that.” 

He started feeding you more of his cock then, driving further into you with each stroke until he fucked all the way into you, his hips flush to yours, his thick length stretching you open, the burn of him meshing with the heady pleasure of being so utterly full. 

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his cock buried inside you totally. “This pussy… fuck me.” 

One of his hands went from your thigh to over your hip coming to rest and the soft swell of the base of your stomach. He spread wide over your skin, his palm swallowing the space over where he was inside of you and pressing down, making you moan as the tight fullness inside you got more intense. His thumb stretched down toward your clit and he started working you there as he just held himself within you, making your cunt throb once around him. He groaned at the feeling. 

“That’s right,” he said. “So full of this cock ain’t you baby? Taking me so damn well…” 

He kept working your clit for a minute, not moving inside you, just pressing into your skin until you were practically writhing below his touch. He was so big, you were so full, the pleasure in your body so tight. It made your head spin. 

“Joel,” your fingers scratched at the blankets. “I need you to move, please, please, please…” 

“Please what, pretty girl?” His voice was dark, low. 

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “Please, please fuck me, please…” 

He drew back then, achingly slow at first, watching where his cock was pressing into you with a hungry look on his face, before thrusting back in, deep and firm. 

This, you thought, was why you liked fucking older men. Joel knew what he was doing. He worked your body with expert skill, grinding his cock deep inside so his head pressed against the most sensitive parts of you, the thick drag of him making your back arch and toes curl. He kept rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure and pace keeping your pleasure building and building but never quite cascading over the edge. 

He kept fucking into you that way until you were desperate, your whole being drawn tight and achy around his cock. He’d stopped watching where your bodies were joined and had moved to your face, his gaze drinking in your desperate little moans and the way your eyes would scrunch closed as you got so close to coming but didn’t quite make it, whimpering as your climax fell just out of reach yet again. 

“Got you so tight and needy, hm?” He said, breathless. You just nodded, trying to rock your hips up against him but held in place by his hand on your stomach. “Why don’t you tell me what you need? Tell me exactly what it is you need.” 

“To come,” you whimpered. “Fuck, I need to come, you need to let me come, please let me come…” 

“Think I’ve been keepin’ you on the edge too long?” He asked. “Think I should let this little pussy come? Let her just milk me dry?” 

“Fuck, please,” you begged, not caring if you sounded pathetic. It’s not like you’d see this man again after tonight, anyway. 

He took his thumb off your clit but before you had a chance to whimper in protest, he adjusted your legs to drive somehow deeper and leaned over you, pressing his bare skin to yours before kissing your neck, sucking and licking at the tender skin there as he fucked into you, making you whimper, your nails scrabbling over his back. His lips moved from your neck to your ear, his large hand coming to cup the crown of your head, his pace never relenting. 

“Come for me,” he whispered, low and needy. “You can come, want you to come, want to feel you come. Just let go for me, just give in to me.” 

His hips rocked against your clit, his cock buried so deep and you saw stars for a moment before you cried out, your orgasm hitting you hard after being on the edge of it for so long. It broke your whole body down, muscle clenching desperately, blood rushing, fingers clinging. You felt it everywhere, starting at your core and radiating out in hot, aching waves. 

“Goddamn, that’s it,” he fucked you through it as your core fluttered over him. “Just keep comin’ for me, just like that, feeling so damn good baby just…” 

He pressed deep as your orgasm started to fade and moaned, the sound going straight to your raw, fucked out cunt. The pulsing of his cock, in you to the root, rolled you into another orgasm, this one less intense but still making your pussy grip him close and tight as he spilled into the condom. 

He collapsed on you for a moment as both of your climaxes eased, his chest heaving. Before his weight became too much, he adjusted, rising up enough to kiss you as he slid his softening cock from your body and falling flat on his back on the bed beside you. 

“Damn,” you panted after a moment, staring up at the ceiling. 

He laughed lightly beside you. 

“Know the feelin’.” 

You lay there next to each other, listening to each other as your breaths came back into a normal, steady cadence. Goosebumps started to pebble over your skin, the air cold as you were naked without his body on yours, the air conditioner below the window humming along. 

You turned your head to look at him and he did the same. 

“Should probably go…” his voice trailed off but he sounded reluctant. Or maybe you just hoped he did.  

“You don’t have to,” you said, probably a little too quickly for a man you’d just met. Even in the dim light of the moon and the parking lot lights out your window, you could tell he raised his eyebrows. “I’m just… you can stay, if you want. It’s a big bed. Think we can manage it.” 

“Wouldn’t want to impose…” 

“You’re not,” you said. “You can leave, too, if you’d rather but… don’t feel like you have to rush out.” 

He smiled a little. 

“Then I’ll stay. I’d like to stay.” 

You smiled back, that blissed out and relaxed feeling you had after you came settling over you.

“Good.” 

The two of you settled far across the bed from each other at first but drifted quickly, until your head was on his chest and you were curved around his side as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers trailing up and down your arm until you fell asleep. 

He was somehow even more beautiful in the light of day. 

You realized it as the two of you went about the strange intimacy of getting ready for the day side by side with someone you didn’t know. He blinked sleep from his eyes when first woke up and stretched his back before getting out of bed, his curls haphazard and messy and his body soft and warm. He got dressed and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame it. You offered him your travel toothbrush as you got dressed and he watched you pull on your jeans as he leaned against the bathroom doorframe. 

“Been a while since I’ve done this,” he said, a little hesitant. 

“Just how long?” You asked, teasing as you pulled on your shirt. 

“Longer than I want to admit,” he said, small smile making his cheek dimple. “Long enough that I don’t remember exactly how this is supposed to work but… I’d like to take you to breakfast. If you want.” 

You smiled. 

“Sure,” you said. “I’d like that.” 

Joel walked back to the bar and picked up his truck before taking you to a diner not too far from your hotel. You laughed with him about menu typos and the questionable song choices coming from the speakers over greasy eggs and toast soaked in butter. 

“Know we just met,” he said as you were on your fourth cup of coffee and you were both avoiding the fact that you’d have to leave this table and go your separate ways soon. The remains of your hashbrowns had long gone cold, ketchup smeared across the plate and you weren’t ready to say goodbye to him yet. “And that you’re in town for some family thing but… if you’re not busy tonight, would you want to come with me to this party? Buddy of mine is throwin’ in, supposed to be nice. Think he gave me a plus one in hopes I’d actually use it.” 

“Damn,” you winced a bit. “I really wish I could but the thing I’m in town for is tonight.” 

“Damn’s right,” he smiled a little. “Think you’d be my best shot for a good time at that thing.” 

“Yeah, back at you for my thing,” you laughed.

“Here,” he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it before handing it over. “Put your number in. Maybe we could still get together later…” 

You took it but hesitated, thumb tapping on the side of his phone case. 

He frowned.

“What?” 

“I live hours away,” you said. “Is this really smart?” 

He shrugged. 

“Don’t really care if it’s smart or not. Just want to see you again. If you’ll let me.” 

You smiled a little and shook your head before putting your number in his phone. 

“There,” you said, handing it back over. “Let me know when you’re done with your thing. I can think of a few more ways to get some good use out of my hotel room.” 

Two more cups of coffee later, Joel dropped you off at your hotel. You kissed him goodbye in the cabin of his truck, moaning against his mouth before pulling away. 

“Alright, go before I come back in with you,” he said playfully, reaching across you to open your door.

You laughed. 

“Don’t tempt me,” you got out and paused before closing your door, taking one last chance to look him over. “If we don’t see each other again… It was good meeting you.” 

“Good meeting you, too,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll see you again.” 

You went inside, looking back over your shoulder once you were in the lobby, Joel’s truck still sitting near the doors as he waited to make sure you were safely inside. 

There was an odd sense of loss in you as you got ready for your parents’ big anniversary party. You hadn’t expected to meet anyone when on your trip back to your hometown, let alone someone you liked so much. You’d been single for a while, doing things alone didn’t really bother you. But now, you felt this tug of desire to have him getting ready beside you where you could help him with his tie and he could zip you into your dress. 

But that was stupid. You knew it was stupid. Your job had taken you to Memphis and you liked it there. You weren’t in a rush to move back to your hometown. And Joel had a business here. It wasn’t going to happen. It’d be a lot easier in the long run if you just accepted that now. 

You showed up early to the party, your older sister wanting help to get things set up in the tents outside. 

“Who all is coming to this shindig anyway?” You asked as you put pictures of your parents out around a guest book near the entrance of the tent. 

“Oh, you know,” your sister waved you off. 

“Not really,” you said. She gave you a look. “What! I haven’t been home for a family party in… well, it’s been a minute.” 

“Yeah, and I’ve been the one doing all the work to help with those for a while,” she said. 

“And you’re definitely not bitter about that…” 

“Not one bit,” she teased. “But the usual people. The closest neighbors, the aunts and uncles, Mom’s book club, church people, Dad’s friends…” 

“Dad has friends?” You gaped at her. “Since when?” 

“He’s had friends for years!” 

“OK, he’s never had friends,” you said. “Where is he finding friends? Shit’s unnatural…” 

“Don’t let them catch you saying shit,” she said. “And there are a few from work, one from this basketball league he joined…” 

“Ew,” you crinkled your nose. Your sister laughed. 

“Definitely not ew,” she said. “At least not the basketball friend one, he’s weirdly hot, it’s disturbing…” 

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste, is there?” You teased. 

“You’ll eat those words when you meet the guy,” she said. “Just wait.” 

“Whatever you say,” you rolled your eyes, skeptical. You and your sister had never had the same taste in men, you didn’t see any reason for that to have changed. 

But still, you were keeping an eye out for this mysterious hot friend of your father’s as people started to arrive for the party. Or trying to, anyway. You kept getting pulled away by distant relatives you hadn’t seen since your cousin’s wedding or to do a favor for your mom as she frantically rushed around trying to take care of everyone while also trying to have fun at the party that was being thrown in her honor. 

Everything was in full swing when you heard your father call your name from across the large, increasingly full tent. He waved you over, leaning around a man he was talking to, and you worked your way around the dance floor, trying not to think about how much you’d like to have a date at this damn thing - how much you’d like to have Joel as your date at this damn thing - when you froze beside your dad. The man standing next to him was devastatingly familiar, even from behind. Tallest man in the room, broad shoulders, thick curls. Your heart beat faster. 

“Hey honey,” your dad said, tugging you closer. “Want you to meet my friend. Joel, this is my youngest that I’ve told you so much about.” 

He turned around, a beer bottle in his hand a smile on his face that fell the moment he saw you. Your dad was saying something else but you didn’t hear it, too busy staring at the man who had been inside you less than 24 hours earlier. 

The man who had you thinking about what life alongside another person would be like. 

The man who was apparently your father’s friend. 

“Hi,” he said after your dad had stopped talking. You hadn’t noticed. 

“Hi,” you said, still staring at him. 

Fuck, you were in trouble. 

A/N: Here's whatever this is. He's unhinged, I don't know what's happening to the Joels who live in my head lately but they're just going crazy up there. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #dbf!joel x reader

[sweetenerobert]

toy story

8.1k | action figure!joel miller x male reader

summary: contemplating throwing out your favorite toy, he comes to life and makes your last night before you leave for college memorable

warnings: MDNI 18+, agalmatophilia, strong language, slight possessive joel, childhood friends to lovers (if you squint) no mention of age besides reader leaving for college, l-word drops, pet names (mostly doll and baby), spanking, dirty talking joel, no description of reader, but joel lifts you (1), oral (m!giving/m!receiving) rimming, spit as lube, unprotected p in a, creampie,

inspired by this post , also huge thanks to @strang3lov3 new tattoo for this fucking idea, i love you so much and thank you for letting me rant to you about this idea that been in my drafts for FUCKING MONTHS

thanks to @minispidey for beta, love you <333

dividers by @saradika-graphics

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I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS!! SOOO MUCH!!

Moonlight piercing through the cotton curtains of your childhood bedroom, dust dancing through the luminescent shards from your window. Two boxes stacked on each other in the corner of your room, your closet’s life ripped away from the clothes once hung in the small confined space. 

Wiping the sweat that littered your forehead as you huffed a breath, you lay down on the small circular rug that riddled the floor, staring at the ceiling light. You were getting ready to leave for college, and packing up your life seemed more stressful than lifting weights off your shoulders. 

Constant choices about what to throw away or bring with you kept swimming in your brain, and overthinking two simple decisions kept making your head spin, mostly ending with you sitting silently thinking about your answer. This wasn’t one of those situations; you had just finished packing and felt like you deserved a break.

Alone in your childhood home while your parents had picked up late shifts and your siblings were out, the silence was deafening, but you preferred the quiet. It gave you time to process everything. Seeing the stars tapped onto your ceiling made you smirk as you glanced around your bare room.

Eyes catching an object underneath the bed, you turned your body to understand the object better. It was your old lumberjack action figure when you were a kid; it must’ve fallen off the shelf over your window. You don’t remember if it came with a name or you made it up, but you called him Joel. 

That name stuck with you until now, even when you were a kid, when you introduced Joel to your friends as they commented on it. Being a “weird name,” you didn’t care; you loved the name. 

Attempting to grab him from the bed, you realize that it would be easier to grab Joel from your bed. You were quickly climbing up on your bed and scrambling to the side, quickly sliding your hand down the crack of the wall and your bed. Tips of your fingers grazing the fake axe on the back of the action figure, biting your lip as your nail pulls the toy closer towards the wall, retracting your head a few feet up as you see it closer to the wall.

The action figure is in your grasp, sliding your knuckles up on the cold wall while your palm touches the cotton sheets wrapped around your mattress. The toy is now in your hand, and you notice how it’s looked the same after all the years. A couple of tiny patches of color are missing from his plastic hair, and his face and plastic beard stay the same. Joel’s clothes are dusty, balls of lint cover his pants and shirt, and his boots are dustier than anything. You quickly blow a puff of air, trying to clean him off the best you can.

“Hey, Joel. How ya been?’ 

Did I use to talk to this thing? Man, I was a weird kid. 

Joel was your therapist before you even knew what therapy was — telling him about how you finally could spell Wednesday without misspelling it, How you passed each spelling/vocabulary test, and how the boys at school were bullying you. Joel always listened to you; he was your toy, and he didn’t care as long as he was there to protect you – metaphorically.

Loving Joel was easy—he was your first crush—but trying to explain that to a toy was difficult. Bringing Joel with you to live in your college dorm seemed like a hard decision. Glancing at the tiny trash can next to your bed, you glance back at Joel and discard him in the trash bin. 

Wiping your hands on your pants, you looked at the bags and boxes that had cluttered the corner of your room and huffed a breath in annoyance as you decided it would be wise to have your life packed away downstairs.

It didn’t take you long to realize how much you hated your fucking stairs. You were leaning on the top of the stairs – on the handrail, catching your breath. Your bedroom was in your field of view; you would’ve crawled into your room if your knees hadn’t creaked with each movement. 

One of the main things you wouldn’t miss about your house would be the stairs that killed you slowly with each trip up and down the wooden stairwell. 

Slowly getting up from the floor, your feet trudged towards your bedroom door. You were pushing the gateway of your bedroom, earning a creak from its hinges. Your eyes glanced down towards the dark chocolate wood floor with each step into your room. “Finally, I’m ready to lay down in my –” You started to pick your head up, glancing at the figure sitting on your night, playing with a pink eraser he must’ve found in the trash bin.

“– bed.”

"Doll, what's up with you throwin' me away?"

W-what? That one question kept flying around in your head. Not, who is this? Not, what is happening? Just a simple question: What kept spinning around your head?

In the back of your mind, you knew who it was sitting in front of you. It wasn’t a dream, not your imagination; it was real life. Your action figure — your lumberjack, Joel in the flesh? 

He looked real, too real. His hair's curls looked fluffy, and his skin's wrinkles looked defined. His clothes looked like he’d gotten them from a store, with wrinkles littering his shirt and jeans and his boots rubbing against the wood. Your childhood toy was in front of you, alive and in the flesh.

“Too stunned to speak, doll?” 

Shaking your head from the thoughts swimming around you, you look at the male before you. “What?”

“Got my answer. Can’t believe I rendered my doll speechless.”

Joel’s build shocked you as he stood up from his position; his shoulders were broad, his biceps bulging from his flannel – you knew he rolled his sleeves up. Vein’s threatening to burst from his arms and hands. Your former action figure who walked in front of you felt menacing, like his aura made you cower in fear, but instead of fear, it was astonishment. That something you wished for years ago finally came true.

“How is this possible? How are you real?” You quivered. 

“The better question better be, “Why would I throw out such a precious toy?”

“Huh?”

“C’mon, doll, y’think I’m stupid or somethin’; I knew y’threw me out. Half m’foot was in the trash can when I started growing.” 

The answer was plain and simple: you didn’t want to bring him with you to college or leave him to give to someone else, so you thought just about getting rid of him would be. Clearly, Joel’s surprise appearance made things more complicated than they should. “I didn’t throw you out,” You quickly spat out. “You fell in there by accident.”

Joel’s tall figure stood tall in front of you, his once plastic hand – now turned flesh and genuine, his thumb slowly tracing your bottom lip. Your body was shuddering against his touch. “Y’know your body betrays you, sweetheart.”

“Just be honest; it doesn't hurt me, jus’ your pride.”

“J-Joel, listen —”

“Ah, now you know I exist; you were treating me like some hallucination,” Joel announced, backing up, sticking his thumb in the waistband of his jeans. 

“You’re aware that this could very well be a hallucination,” You shrugged.

“Slap yourself, then.” 

“Huh?” 

“Slap. Yourself. In. The face. Then.” Joel enunciated. 

“N-No! I’m not going to do that!” You exclaimed. 

“Okay, fine, then. You’ll never know if this is a hallucination then.” 

Groaning, you quickly connected your palm against your cheek, the skin on your palm and face stink earning a wince that you suck from your teeth.”Happy, now?”

“Blessed. I’m pretty sure you have many questions, which aren’t important, because we need to figger out why you threw me out?”

“I told you, I didn’t–”

“Doll, I’m not stupid. I saw you put me in there, now don’t bullshit me.”

The skin on your palm and cheek had been itchy to the point you wanted to scratch your palm and face simultaneously, resulting in you rubbing your knuckles on your face. But you didn’t even want to answer Joel—your childhood toy. Hurting your friend's feelings was something you never wanted to do; imagine how Joel would feel knowing the boy who had played with him since he was a kid didn’t want to take him to college with him.

But it was something that you had to say, something that you would dread telling anyone you love.

Deciding to rip the band-aid faster than slow, you take a breath, look at Joel’s once painted-on brown eyes, and see a soul behind his real-like eyes. “I didn’t want to take you to college with me, and giving you away seemed way too hard even to think about. So I threw you away.”

Joel looked shocked by your confession. He thought he was ready to hear what you had to say, but Joel wasn’t; he was more perplexed than anything. Moving from where he stood before you, he stumbles on the mattress and sits down to collect his thoughts. Joel’s head hangs as you sit down next to him. It was reminiscent of when you were younger and would watch movies in your living room, having Joel sit next to you while you imagined him laughing or getting mad at a character like you were.

For once, the silence in the room was deafening, and you didn’t like it; you didn’t know what Joel would say, which terrified you.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

Joel nodded. “Yeah,” He snuffled. “Was just thinkin’ bout somethin’.”

“What was it?’

“Joel, when I’m older, I’m taking you everywhere with me, no matter what. You're going to be with me during college, and even when I get the big boy job like my daddy does, you’ll always be there.”

The action figure you played with your whole childhood quoted what you told him in those peak years of being a kid and had nothing to worry about.

“I said that, I'm guessing?”

Joel nods. “You were always a happy kid, no matter what happened, always smiling.” You chuckle at Joel’s statement. It made a smile appear as you remembered that he was always there with you. But, you had to face the fact that you weren't a kid anymore; those promises you made to a toy — a mere plaything- weren't something you thought about as a hormonal teenager. 

Shaking your head, you snap your head at Joel. “Joel, I was a kid back then. I didn't know that growing up would be so different than what I thought.”

“I- I can't be that same kid again. I wish I could trust me, I wish I could, but I can't.”

“It’s a shame,” Joel starts. “I would’ve loved t’see you grow up.”

“I mean, you technically did, right?”

Joel chuckles, “Yeah. Yeah, I did.” 

The cicadas appeared to disrupt the silence in the room when you didn't know what to say to Joel. You hated breaking your best friend’s heart, but being honest was something Joel wanted other than being lied to. “Do you want a hug?” 

“I would love that,” Joel’s southern drawl appeared as you wrapped your arms around Joel, and his arms wrapped you around in a bear hug. 

Hugging Joel felt weird but right – a seemingly impossible wish you fulfilled. You begged to be able to hug Joel, have him hold you in his arms, and melt together, being safe in each other’s arms. “M’gonna miss ya when you’re gone,” Joel grumbles against your head. As you hugged Joel, questions began to swim in your mind as you squeezed his waist; it felt like you were hugging an actual human. The way his body resisted against the tight hold on him, his body felt warm against yours. 

“Okay, wait a second,” you announce, releasing yourself from Joel’s grip and standing before him.

“What’s wrong?” Joel asks, resting one hand on his knee and his forearm on the other knee. You watch at the skin around his wrist, and the watch starts to bend as if he were human.

Questions were floating in your head; you didn’t know where to start, but you took a deep breath and opened your mouth to speak. “How did this happen? How are you walking like this?” 

“I’ve always done it, just done it when everyone isn’t home.”

Perplexity rode your face as Joel’s answer made you think about more questions you wanted to spit out. “So, you’ve always been able to walk around and be so human-like?”

“Yeppers.”

“So, you heard everything?”

Joel nods.

“Everything?” 

“If you’re referring to the times I’ve heard and seen you jerk off and get fucked in here, then yes, everything,” Joel mocked. 

Heat rose to your face. Joel had seen everything, the most vulnerable parts of your body. Things that you wouldn’t admit to if your family asked about it.  “Even when–” 

“Not when you were a kid, I’gave you your privacy. Scout’s honor.”

“But, you’re not a scout but a lumberjack.” 

Joel shrugs. “You’re point?”

“My point is–” You exhale a breath as a hand slides down your face. “If ya wonderin’ of anythin’ sex-related–” Joel interjected.

One question swam around your mind in that topic Joel mentioned. “Can you fuck?” You question, crossing your arms. Joel’s chuckle sent chills picking at your “tough-guy” demeanor. That nervous feeling rose, making you worried about his answer. “If I tell you the truth, will you mind?”

Reflexically shaking your head, you waited for Joel’s answer. “Yes, doll. I can.” Without thinking, you asked Joel. “How?” Joel answered by pointing at you. “You’ve done some pretty interesting things, doll.” 

Moving your head as you eye roll at the “man” before you. “I’m scared to ask, but–”

“You’re interested if I had fucked anythin’?” 

“Honestly? Yeah.” You don’t know how to feel about Joel’s confession. On the one hand, you were intrigued by what Joel had done; on the other hand, it made you feel like you were stepping into a zone you weren’t comfortable with entering. “Wow, my old toy, fucking other toys? I’m guessing.” 

Joel chuckles. “Y’know your sister’s Barbie doll? Fucked her, Ken watched.”

A grimace appeared on your face as Joel's sudden statement made you feel like the cold rushed in from your bedroom. “Wow,” you started. “Wait, Barbie and Ken can become real, like you?” Joel nodded at your answer.

“Huh, well. You learn something new every day.” 

“Blame yourself, doll. I learned everything from you.”

Confusion rode your face, trying to act innocent like you had no reason behind Joel’s actions. “What do you mean?” You shrug.

Joel stands up, his hands draped by the stitched pockets of his jeans, his boots slowly connecting with the hardwood floors, causing you to walk backward at your leisurely pace. You and Joel were working in tandem—with each step he took, you took a step back. You felt slightly intimidated. In the back of your head, you never thought you would feel unnerved by a toy—a toy you never would’ve expected to come to life. 

That rush of cold flew through your back when you connected with the side of your closet, bringing your hands to the wall; that cold sensation connected with your hand. Joel’s looming figure had been present before you, his hand outstretched beside your head. Joel slowly moves his head toward your head; you feel his warm breath against you, causing your spine to chill — mentally blaming the wall. 

“C’mon, doll. You know exactly what I mean.” Joel’s voice made your breath hitch as you felt his mustache tickle against your neck. “I know what you want, your likes, know what you like to be called,” You feel Joel’s realistic fingers on your chin as he picks your head up to look into his eyes; you watch as he backs up from your ear. 

His soft but calloused hand was on your chin, slowly dragging his hand against the fabric of your shirt as you watched the wrinkles in your shirt flatten under the path his hand was sliding down your torso. You watched as the wrinkles disappeared, only to reaper after Joel’s hand moved from its position. Joel’s hand was slow but not too slow, like a snail’s pace, slow to the point where you felt each goosebump underneath his hand — under your shirt.

Joel’s hand had stopped on your waist, while his other hand was above your head as he leaned closer to your eyes. Bracing for the impact of Joel’s lips on yours, you close your eyes. 

The feeling of plump, soft lips against yours sent shivers traveling down your spine as you felt the grip on your waist was getting tighter — rougher. Your hands travel from the wall into Joel’s soft curls. You wanted Joel in the moment; you craved him — yearned for him. Memories of you dreaming of kissing Joel had finally come true; you didn't expect the kiss to feel so passionate, an end-of-the-world kiss — one that stopped the world from spinning.

The feeling of silk had flown through your fingers as you contorted your hands with Joel’s hair. Joel’s hands slid from your waist onto your ass — squeezing lightly, you gasped against his lips. 

Your heart skipping a beat seemed impossible, but Joel’s kisses begged to differ. Your hands slipped from Joel’s hair onto his face, and you felt his defined jawline and patchy beard; you felt soft but coarse underneath your palms, which was something you couldn’t imagine. Reminiscent of when your fingertips would travel against the painted beard, always wondering what it looked/felt like, at this moment, you can. 

Joel’s big hands leave an imprint on your ass; slowly, his hands start sliding down toward your inner thigh, bending his back closer to you so the connection of your lips doesn't break. “Jump,” Joel grumbles against your lips. You push your feet off the ground as Joel’s strength lifts you, chuckling against his lips, wrapping your legs around Joel’s waist; you feel his hands under your thighs, gripping into you with passion; you think his nails may leave crescent moons into your skin. 

Cold drywall leaves your back as Joel slowly turns you both around so your bed can face your back. With each step, your and Joel’s noses keep bumping into each other as your faces keep moving side to side from your passionate kiss. Joel’s mouth leaves yours as his lips trail down your jawline, lightly sucking. Your hands return to Joel's hair as his lips end on your neck.  

Lips on your neck, sucking, biting, Joel marking you with his lips, your moans kept escaping your lips as your fingers flowed through Joel’s hair like water. “Y’like that, baby?” Joel growled. You hiss through your teeth before answering. “Fuck, yes. I love it, Joel.”

Quickly turning his body, Joel sits on the edge of your bed. Your knees indent your mattress as you feel sitting down. His lips return to yours as Joel wraps his arms against the midsection of your back, melting your bodies together. Your hands make their way from Joel’s head onto his broad shoulders. Thinking the flannel was warming his skin, you wanted to get rid of it. 

Backing slightly away, you slip your hands down his hardened chest; you start to fumble with the first button. Quickly unbuttoning the first one, you were on your way to the next one; Joel took notice of your hands and broke the kiss to look at what you were doing. “What are ya doing, doll?”

“Trying to get this flannel off you,” You grumble, popping the second button off. 

“Lemme help.” 

Joel moves his arms from your waist onto his flannel, smiling at you as you watch him pop the buttons out the loops. You watch as your childhood crush takes off his flannel and throws it over your shoulder, chest hair littering his chest. You slowly bring your hand onto his chest—above where his heart should be — but you don't feel a bump vibrate against your hand. You remember that Joel isn't human, which somewhat shatters your heart. 

Joel notices your saddened eyes; he places his hand over yours and looks deep into your eyes, his brown eyes piercing into your soul. “J’so ya know, I may not have a heart, but my love f’you is more important than anything else in this goddamn world. You're one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“I don't want to live in a world where I don't see your smile every day; it's a reminder t’myself that no matter what, my love for you is the most real thing for me.”

You smirk at Joel’s confession, quickly smashing your lips against his. The tears brimming your tear ducts, trickling down from your eyes, wiping your eyes as you back up and look at Joel. “You are such a softie, you know that?”

“Only for you, sweetheart.” Joel quickly pushed his lips against yours, wrapping his arms around your midsection and moving your arms around his neck. 

Feeling Joel’s smile against your lips, you're quickly surprised when you feel Joel stand up and, in one motion, spin you both around so your back is on your mattress. You can’t help but smile gleefully as he backs up from you — sliding your shirt up and planting kisses trailing from your chest to your navel. His thick fingers grab the waistband of your pants as he slides them down. “Lift your hips, doll.” You do as Joel commands; he slides your pants off your thighs and throws them in the corner where your hamper used to reside, leaving your underwear on, your cock hard and covered by your underwear. 

“Look a’that, y’hard f’me already, doll?” You chuckle at Joel; you gasp as you feel his lips press the tip of your hard-covered cock. With each kiss brought against the tip and the shaft of your cock, it feels like heaven to you, bringing you absolute bliss against your skin. You get your foot against Joel’s shoulder as your other one hangs off the edge of the bed, arching your back in pleasure as Joel’s mouth moves down your thigh. 

Joel looks up at you and smiles as he kisses your leg. Noticing the wet spot appears on your underwear. Pre-cum slowly escaping the slit of your cock. “Let’s get these underwear off you.” You didn't need Joel to tell you to lift your hips reflectively. You lifted your pelvis, and he slid the underwear off you. Your hard throbbing cock slaps against your navel, a line of pre-cum connects with your stomach. “God, you’re s’fuckin’ perfect, baby.” 

Standing up from his position, he softly presses his lips against yours, bringing his hand into the bend of your knee, his other hand holding the side of your face. Joel’s tongue licked your bottom lip, awaiting your mouth to open. Slightly parting your lips, Joel slips his tongue into your mouth, causing you to smile at Joel’s eagerness. 

“How do you feel?” Joel questions against your lips.

“Fan-fuckin-tastic.” You answer, bearing your teeth. “How about I make you feel even fuckin’ better.” Joel’s question came out as a statement, causing you to question his meaning. Without warning, Joel backs up from your face and laps his tongue on the shaft of your cock, making a moan escape from your mouth, sliding his tongue slowly up the head of your cock, moans escaping your mouth. “F-fuck, Joel,” You breathe. 

“Y’like that, baby?” 

You breathe out an answer as Joel starts playing the slit of your cock with his tongue. “Yes.” 

“Makin’ sure that you deserve somethin’. You’re too precious to be mistreated.”

Joel must've heard all the times you would complain to your best friend about how one guy seemed great but lacked something when it came to sex. Joel was showing what you’ve been craving for a guy to reciprocate when you pleasured them, but he wasn't expecting anything back; he was just glad to pleasure his boy first. 

Wrapping his mouth slowly around the tip of your cock, Joel slowly goes down the shaft of your length, causing you to moan and white knuckle your sheets as you throw your head back — arching your back and snapping your eyes shut in pleasure. 

His pace was slow but patient. Joel wanted to make you feel something you rarely experienced — over the moon. Wrapping his hands around the shaft of your cock, his fingers would let go for a moment before wrapping.

Dragging your fingers into Joel’s curls, you slowly push his head down, hoping he could speed up. “Fuck, Joel. Can you go faster, please?”

“I can do ya one better, doll.”

As Joel’s mouth felt warm around your cock, he started to go faster as you gasped in pleasure; you felt Joel’s hand slide from your thigh as he slowly began to tease your hole. The skin of your taint felt sensitive with each stroke of Joel’s finger teasing you; each swipe, each light prodding made your body shiver in anticipation. Your cock has never been in overdrive as much as this — Joel was slowly rising you towards your peak. Your cock twitches in Joel’s mouth showing the throbbing pain that was threatening to shoot out. 

Slowly and agonizing, Joel slides his mouth off your cock, swallowing his spit; Joel wipes the reminder off his lips with the back of his hand, glances at you, and chuckles as Joel strokes your cock. “Y’close, doll?”

“Yes,” You whimper. “So fuckin’ close. It hurts so much. Can I cum yet, Joel?”

A chuckle left his throat, a sly smirk appearing on his face as he stared at you. Joel stops pumping your cock — landing on your stomach, precum leaking from the slit. “Not yet, doll. We haven't had our fun yet.”

Lifting your legs, Joel slides his head down deeper in between your thighs. He laps his tongue against your aching hole; a shaky moan escapes your lips as you hold your legs up so Joel can get better access to your hole. His hands are planted on your inner thighs as he keeps his tongue against your taint. 

Joel’s tongue felt like magic against you, showing you things you’ve never felt before — things you’ve only imagined happening. His tongue sliding up and down, in and out of your hole, made you want to cum by how much Joel was treating you. 

His plump lips planting kisses against your taint made your toes curl — the bones could pop out, your nails digging into the skin of your thighs, your moans escaping from you with each movement of Joel’s lips and tongue was giving you pleasure. 

That sensation of something feeling pushed inside you came rushing in as you let go of one of your thighs, gripped the sheets below you, and threatened to rip them up. You look down at Joel, looking up at you with a smirk on his face; you notice what is being pushed inside you; Joel’s thick middle finger has taken a turn to please you. 

“Y’like that, don’t you, baby?”

“Mhmm,” You whimper, throwing your head back, closing your eyes, and biting your lip. 

“I told ya, I know what you like, basically what you’ve been yearnin’ for.” 

“But, you gotta let me know if it’s too much for you, baby. I can't read minds yet.”

“It’s it too much?” Joel questioned.

You shake your head to deny Joel’s question. “It’s just right, it’s so fuckin’ right,” You grit your teeth. 

Sliding another finger in, Joel’s pace had gone faster. You knew Joel was trying to test your limit; you never knew your limit; you were glad to try to figure it out with someone you trusted. 

“Look at that; your hole wraps around m’fingers; it keeps sucking me in no matter how hard I try to pull out.”

Sudden movements from your hips as you kept raising your hips and bringing them back down. Gritting your teeth, tiny whimpers left through your teeth. Pleasure flowed through your entire body — a new goal you never knew you could reach.

Joel would never admit this, but him being the reason whimpers were leaving your mouth, you squirming because of his fingers and mouth, he was fucking over the moon to be the first person ever to make you feel this way. 

“J-Joel?” You breathed.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can I please suck your cock?” 

Joel was conflicted by your question; all he wanted to do was make you feel good, he wasn’t expecting anything in return, but he wanted to know what that perfect mouth of yours felt around his cock. 

Slipping his fingers outside your hole, aching for more, Joel smirks at you and opens his mouth to speak. “Yes, you can, doll.” As you sit up, you notice the length that resided in his jeans; your eyes almost pop from their sockets from what you have just seen. You’d never seen anything that big in porn, yes, but never in real life. 

Noticing your astonishment, Joel looked at his jeans and then back up at you. “Is this size good enough, sweetheart?” You nod your head. Sliding your back against the mattress, you slid so your knees hit the wood below you. Watching the eagerness flood Joel’s eyes made you feel that excitement swimming in your stomach. The button of his jeans popped above you, and hearing the zipper going down, you watched as Joel’s cock popped out from its restraints.

Joel’s throbbing cock bounced in front of you, precum leaking from the slit of Joel’s cock. In your eyes, Joel’s cock looked more realistic than plastic. You wouldn’t lie; you were a curious kid; you had removed Joel’s clothes before and only noticed a blob on where his dick was now. The veins traveled up the shaft of his cock, stopping at the mushroom tip of his cock. The happy trail from Joel’s tummy showed up his pubic hair that rested above the shaft of his cock. Your mouth went dry in anticipation. It was the first you had seen a dick this big and thick before and so close to your face. 

“You alright, doll?”

Shooting your eyes up at Joel, you can tell a bit of worry on his face. “Yeah, I-I’m fine. Just never seen a dick this big before,” You admitted. Bending down so his face is in front of you, softly placing his hand against your cheek in reassurance. “We can take it slow if you want to.” You nodded at Joel’s words as he planted his lips against your forehead and stood straight. Dragging Joel’s jeans down as your knuckles brushed up against the hair on Joel’s thighs, gravity stopping Joel’s jeans when they stop at his ankles, your hand wraps the shaft of his cock. You slowly wrap your lips around the tip of Joel’s cock, and you hear him exhale in pleasure. 

Slowly pushing your head down the shaft of Joel’s cock, lips wrapped tight, you feel the veins trace the skin of your lips as the head of Joel’s cock press into the back of your throat. A groan of pleasure escapes Joel’s lips as you back your head up. You push your head forward and back leisurely, and you can tell the pace makes Joel go crazy. His member in your mouth kept throbbing against the roof of your mouth. Suddenly, your pace went a little faster; you looked up and noticed Joel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands were in tight fists, his knuckles threatening to pop out from his hand. The taste of salt fell upon your tongue as you backed your head up from Joel’s cock. A line of spit mixed with precum connecting from your mouth to the tip of Joel’s cock was made apparent, eventually dropping onto the ground below you as you wrapped your hand around Joel’s cock and started pumping his shaft.

The moans escaping Joel’s lips were music to your ears as your moans were to Joel. “Fuck, baby. Y’so good at that. Those boys are so fuckin’ stupid.” His southern drawl causes summersaults in your stomach. Sliding your mouth back onto Joel’s cock, a deep moan escapes his lips as your lips were at a quick pace, your hands planted on Joel’s thighs, the hair on his thighs pressed up against your hand as the tip of Joel’s cock kept hitting the back of your throat.

Moans, grunts, whines, and whimpers were all escaping from Joel’s lips, his hands holding onto your head as his hips humped into your head, his cock pressing deeper – causing you to gag a couple of times. Your nose kept poking into where Joel’s pubic hair rested; the scent was intoxicating, causing your cock to leak with precum below you. 

Suddenly, Joel held your head – your throat grasping around his cock, causing you to gag more. Slobber escaping your mouth as with each inhale through your nose – resting on Joel’s hairy patch made it impossible to exhale without gagging. Your palms were getting sweaty against Joel’s meaty thighs, the hair on his legs feeling nonexistent against your slippery hands.

His hands slide your head back, and lines of spit connect from his cock to your top and bottom lips. Deep inhales and exhales leave your body as you watch Joel slightly shudder. His cock glistened in your spit, throbbing. Sweat littered Joel’s hairy chest and forehead; you swallowed the spit in the back of your throat from your excessive breathing. Your forehead felt heavy with sweat as you looked up at Joel; he slid his hand up his forehead, pushing the curls that had stuck to his forehead. “Fuck, sorry, baby. Y’mouth is so fuckin’ addictin’.” 

“Don’t think I’m finished with you yet, Joel,” You spoke, disregarding his apology. Quickly eager to show Joel what you meant, you pick up his cock and slide your tongue on the underside of Joel’s shaft. Lapping your tongue against his veins, you could hear Joel praise you from above. “So fuckin’ perfect, who wouldn’t want to treat you right?”

Bringing your tongue slowly down to make Joel squirm, you feel his body Joel a little bit as you are still holding his cock in your hand; you place your mouth around his ball sack and lightly suck on one of them. “OH, FUCK!” Joel groaned. Joel’s body felt like jelly – incapable of holding himself up; Joel hadn’t felt this level of pleasure before, from anything he’s ever fucked before. “You like that, baby?” You asked. “Yes,” Joel gritted his teeth. “God, I love it s’much.” Backing your mouth up, you stroke Joel’s cock and watch Joel hold his head back and moans escaping his lips. Bending down, Joel places his hands between the fold of your armpits and picks you up from your knees. 

Planting his lips against yours, the kiss you shared between the two of you felt hungry, Lips mashing against each other, teeth clashing against each other. Joel’s arms holding you tightly against his torso. Joel was fucking starving for you as his lips were latching against your cheeks, jawline, against the skin of your neck. That feeling of Joel’s teeth against your neck made you know Joel was marking you as his. Your nails drag against Joel’s soft curls as you enjoy Joel’s mouth, bringing his head up back against your lips. Sweat from Joel’s chest was seeping through your shirt. You wanted to take it off to feel Joel’s skin against yours. Backing your head away from Joel’s, his head following suit as he watches you attempt to take your shirt off.

Holding the hem of your shirt, Joel helps you slide your shirt off your head, wrapping your arms around Joel’s neck, him wrapping his arms against your lower back. The warmth of each other’s bodies radiated against each other. Your cocks rubbed against each other; the warmth you both shared was hot enough to blow the roof off your bedroom. This experience felt surreal, like a dream you didn’t want to wake up from. 

Backing his head away from your lips, you notice a look of dominance in Joel’s eyes, which darken as he opens his mouth to speak. “Get on that bed, so I can fuck you the way you, a good boy like you should be fucked.”

“But, what if I’ve been a bad boy?” You tease. 

Leaning his head toward your ear. “Then I’ll have to punish you.”

“Get on that fuckin’ bed,” Joel commanded. You listened to Joel, letting your arms go from around his neck, your knees bent on the bed, as you pushed yourself to land your head where your pillow rested, your back collided with the soft cloud-like material. You watched Joel climb on the bed, stopping as he was positioned right between your legs. “Put your leg on my shoulder.”

Compiling to what Joel commanded, your ankle rested on Joel’s broad shoulder. A line of spit leaves Joel’s mouth and connects to the tip of his cock, rubbing the spit to lube up his cock. Slowly leaning over you, one next to your head, fingers spread apart. Joel moves his hand from the tip to his shaft as he starts to tease you – making you shudder in anticipation. 

Moving his cock to poke your hole makes you yearn for him every slight push into you. Hisses escaped your gritted teeth as you craved to feel good. “Joel, can you please fuck me?”

“Nuh uh, bad boys don’t get to beg,” Joel grinned.

Joel had let go of his length and placed his other hand next to the other side of your head. His hips were grinding into you, making you gasp and make your spine chill. Joel’s cock kept rubbing up against your sensitive tip, making you physically shudder and making your cock feel like it was about to burst. “I can tell how much you love this. M’cock grinding up against yours before I get you pregnant.” Your breath hitched as Joel’s voice made you want him more – you’ve never wanted anyone this bad before. 

“Joel, please. I need you.”

“How bad do you need me, sweetheart?” Joel growled into your ear. 

“So fuckin’ much, it's unbearable.”

“Well then, are you going to be my good boy?’

Nodding your head, you shut your eyes and licked your lips in anticipation. You notice that your ankle comes off Joel’s shoulder and collides with the mattress. You feel his lips press against yours briefly as you open your eyes and see Joel’s brown orbs looking into yours before he opens his mouth to speak. “Well, I can’t keep my good boy waitin’.” Looking in between your bodies, Joel adjusts his cock; you feel it press into you for a split second. He looks back up to you, “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I am,” You answer. 

Joel slowly pushes in, and you feel the tip agonizingly stretch you out. Your moans rattle the walls next to you both. “Does it hurt, baby?” You shake your head, denying Joel’s question. His shaft is halfway in before he pulls out fast. You gasp before breathing heavily. “Damn, baby. Y’so fuckin’ tight,” Joel commented. Once again, Joel slides his cock into you, making your moans more intense than before. Halfway in, Joel rocks his hips back and forth slowly into you. Your eyes snapped shut intensely, straining your eyelids. The pain was starting to feel good, too good.

“Is this okay, baby?”

Opening your eyes, you notice the concern in Joel’s eyes. He looked so sweet, caring, and compassionate; you’ve always seen him like that growing up. “Yes, Joel. It’s okay,” You smile. Leaning down to kiss you, Joel’s hips still rocking into your hole, moans exiting your mouth and entering Joel’s. Feeling Joel slowly stretch you out felt indescribable; it felt good, but you did want Joel to go faster. “Joel,” You moan against Joel’s mouth. “Yes, baby?” 

Joel backs up to hear you properly. Before you could get a word out to Joel, one push further in, and you feel the base of Joel’s cock clap into you, which echoes throughout the room. Joel realizes what this means; a sly grin appears on Joel’s lips. “Hold that thought, doll,” Joel commanded.

His pace was faster and rougher. Claps rang throughout the room with each thrust, like an audience applauding at the end of a play. Your hands gripped the sheets or ran your hand down Joel’s back while Joel had his hand on the headboard. It felt like Joel had read your mind at that moment, knowing that you wanted more and that he would give it to you. “I can tell y’wanted this before you even said it, baby. Could hear ya screamin’ at me to fuck you harder.’

“Y’wanted this, didn’t ya?” Joel grunted. 

“God, yes, Joel. I’ve wanted something like this for so long, begging for it. This feels fucking amazing.”

“I’can say the same about this boy pussy of yours, grippin’ onto me so tight, it doesn’t want to let go, and I don’t think I want it to.” You bring your hands up to Joel’s back and dig your nails into his sleek skin; an exhale leaves Joel’s mouth as the pain settles in, but it subsides. 

“Mark me, baby. Make me yours.” 

Your nails drag down Joel’s back until you reach the small of Joel’s back. Joel bows his head, grabs your chin, and smashes his lips against yours, but his thrusts stop. You don’t feel anything warm inside you, so you know he didn’t cum. Wrapping your arms around his neck, Joel lifts you for a second so you can get up from the sheets below you. Noticing Joel starts to lay himself down, you quickly move your hands on the mattress to keep yourself from crashing into Joel. You still feel Joel’s cock inside you as his hips start to lift up and down. 

That time when you complained about only being in one position with a guy, Joel did hear you and was giving you something you wanted. 

“Sorry for the sudden stop, wanted to fuck you more.”

Backing your head up, you watched as Joel bore his teeth and started to fuck you senselessly. Wrapping his arms tight around your lower back. Your nails dug into the soft material under your sweaty palms; you could feel the fibers begin to tear a bit. “You like this, don’t ya, baby? Being fucked like the sluts I’ve seen you watch on your phone.”

“Craving to be them, wanting someone to fuck you till you can’t feel your legs no more, huh?”

“Yes.” You whined. 

“Wantin’ someone as strong and big as those guys you watch to be able to fill your sweet, tight, boy pussy with hot cum.”

Nodding your head. “Mhmm.”

“Well, I’m here. I’m gonna satisfy your needs, your aches, your cravings for you to be filled with cum. If anyone else tries. I’ll gladly show them who can treat you better and fuck you in front of them, understood, baby.”

“Mhmm.” 

Joel’s hand connects with your ass, a hard smack against it; a cry leaves your mouth. “I need a fuckin’ yes, boy.”

“Yes, Joel, yes.” You whined.

You felt something move from inside you. You see, Joel looks to wear your cock, but he’s looking in between you both. “You feel my cock twitchin’ inside you, doll? You want me to cum inside you?”  “Yes,” You quickly answer and nod. “You’re leakin’ all over my stomach, baby; you wanna cum too?” 

You whimper out an answer. “Then, I better give my boy what he wants.”

Joel slides his cock out of you and lays you on your stomach as he comes up from behind you and slowly teases you. You feel his cock glide between the bends of your ass cheeks, feelings his balls press into them. “Damn, your ass is achin’ f’me right now. I will give you what you deserve, boy.” 

That feeling of being stretched out came back as you rested your forehead on the bed. Joel’s hands dug into your skin; each push of his length made your moans push out of you more. It was like your body was in heat — Joel’s heat. He was an animal in heat when it came to you. Nodding your head, you felt Joel’s hand on your throat and his lips against your ear — his mustache tickling it. “I’m so –thrust–  close to – cummin’ inside this tight ass of yours, baby. Do you want my cum to swim inside you?”

“Yes, Joel. I fuckin’ do.” 

“Then let me give you what you deserve.” Backing his head up, Joel dug into your skin like he was kneading dough; his thrusts were rough, almost splitting you in half. You could feel his cock throb inside you as you felt your shaft pulsating. You knew you were about to cum. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you, baby. I don’t wanna stop after I cum in you.” “Joel, I’m so close. Keep going.”

“Fuck,” Joel growled. “I love it when you beg like that.”

His pace was going faster, and it felt the tip of your cock felt like it was going to explode with your cum. “Fuck, Joel. I’m gonna cum.” 

“Fuck, baby. Me too.’

“Here it comes,” Joel gritted his teeth. 

With one final push, you feel your cum shoot out onto the sheets below you, and you also feel Joel’s cum swim inside you. Light breaths are escaping both of you as you feel Joel slide his cock out of you; a squelching sound is heard as Joel’s cock finally dislodges from your hole. A sigh of relief exits Joel’s mouth as he connects his back to the bed. Turning your neck, you see Joel — soft cock against his stomach as you see his chest dip and rise from the breaths he’s taking.

Picking yourself up from your position, you lay down next to Joel, your head resting on his sweaty, hairy chest. Joel’s arm wraps around you as he pulls you closer to him. 

“So, was that everything you’ve ever wanted?” Joel questioned. 

Nodding your head against his chest. “Yeah, and better than what I could imagine.”

Joel chuckles at your statement, and you join him. Once the laughter dies down, a realization hits him like a bag of bricks. “Y’know, for a moment, I forgot that you’re running off to college without me. Followin’ those dreams and gettin’ your degree.”

“Joel,” You start.

“Havin’ a life, a career, findin’ someone who will love you as much as I do.”

“Joel,” You repeat. 

“Havin’ kids of your own, playin’ with their own action figures or dolls, and I’ll be at the bottom of some —”

“JOEL.” 

Joel jumped at your sudden outburst; he was looking at you instead of the ceiling. He saw you staring at him; he felt frightened but safe simultaneously. You suddenly straddle his lap, his hands on your waist, molding his hands onto you. “You’re coming with me to college.” 

“W-what?” Joel smiled. “When did you come to that decision?” 

“When you gave the most beautiful profession of love when I was on your lap, it made me realize something.” Joel awaited your realization, but he couldn’t lie; you sitting naked on his lap like that, faces inches away from each other, he was starting to get horny again. “I know you can never be real, but that’s okay; it sucks that we won’t grow old together, but you’ll always be there for me, and if I do meet someone, you’ll always be the first person I’ve ever loved, Joel.”

A smile appeared on Joel’s face; you couldn’t tell if sweat or a tear was falling from Joel’s eye when he quickly rolled you on your back and was inches away from you. His smell was intoxicating; the sweat mixed with lust made your cock twitch like crazy. “You’re such a softie, y’know that?” Joel quoted. 

“Only for you, sweetheart,” You quoted. 

“Now, how do you feel about one more round?” Joel questioned. 

“Well, everyone will be out for a while.”

“Should I take my time?”

“Joel, fuckin’ show me a good time.” 

“Okay, my good boy, lemme show you a good time,” Joel states, kissing your lips. Feeling the love from Joel’s kisses, you realize you didn’t need anyone to love you as much as Joel did, and you were fine with that. You didn’t care that he wasn’t real; he felt he was real to you, and that’s all you need.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal x male reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x male reader #joel the last of us #pedro pascal smut #sweetenerobert #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel fic #joel smut #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal tlou

[lemonlover1110]

Double Trouble

Dad Series

Toji Fushiguro

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Leaving Megumi alone with the twins was a horrible horrible idea. The older brother knows better than anyone that the twins get nightmares, yet when Megumi got the opportunity, he put on the scariest movie he could find; he didn’t do it because he wanted to scare the twins, in fact, he didn’t intend for them to see the movie… Yuuji just kept recommending the movie and Megumi couldn’t put it on while his parents were home so he did the next best thing–

Convinced his parents he could handle two three year olds (took weeks since you weren’t sure it was a smart idea, although Toji was extremely persuaded), convinced them to go on a date, and then when he thought the twins were finally asleep, he put on the movie. Megumi just never noticed the twins on the floor, watching every single second of the movie.

In the end, Toji is the one that has to deal with it. A night light in the twins’ room isn’t enough. He has to sleep on a sleeping bag on the twins’ bedroom floor. While Toji insisted that the twins could sleep with the two of you in your bed, but you told him that they kick you in your sleep and there’s no space for the four of you. Since Toji was the one that ultimately convinced you that Megumi could handle the twins, he’s the one that pays for the consequences.

“Koemi!” Kisho tries to whisper to his sister, but it’s more of a yell. Toji can’t sleep in the uncomfortable sleeping bag, and he’s thinking of yelling at the twin to go to sleep, but Toji is so fucking bored that he wants to listen in.

“What?” Koemi responds, a bit annoyed because unlike her brother, she’s trying to sleep.

“I’m scared.” Kisho says, and when Toji’s about to speak up, Koemi answers before him,

“Daddy’s here.” Koemi reminds her twin, and it brings a smile to Toji’s lips. Toji never really got to feel like that with his own parents so it’s nice to know that his kids trust him enough. Daddy will protect them. And Toji will, he’d give up his life for them. Kisho gets off his bed and goes to the sleeping bag, cuddling up to his father. It doesn’t take long for Koemi to join.

Toji hugs them and kisses the top of their heads. Maybe he should thank Megumi for this and call him over to join in, but he isn’t going to yell so late in the night. 

“I love you so much.” They’re not words that usually leave Toji’s lips, but he wants to be different from his family. He wants to express his love for them as much as he can.

“Why are you awake, daddy?” Kisho asks, making Toji chuckle. Toji responds,

“Why are you awake, Kisho?”

#[dad series] #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fushiguro #jujutsu toji #toji zenin #dilf toji #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x you #daddy toji #toji imagine #dad toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #jjk toji #toji fluff #toji x reader

[cosmicschmidt]

UNTIL I FOUND YOU (3)

PART 1, PART 2

Coriolanus Snow x fem!Reader

Synopsis: When the 18 year old Coriolanus Snow recieves the news that he has to mentor a tribute in order to claim the Plinth Prize, he expected everything but not a shy girl from district 12 to claim his heart.

Word count: 2,7K

Warnings: Reader pretty much just replaces Lucy Gray, Lucy Gray does not exsist in this (I´m sorry), some things might not fully add up to the movie plot ´cause I only saw it once and that was two weeks ago, use of Y/N, it´s implied that the reader is shorter than Coryo, small swearing, simple inhumane Hunger Games topics, mention of a wound, brutality!!

Reblogs and requests are always welcomed <3 (just like pointing out grammatical mistakes :))

Previously…

"Wait-" Y/N grabs a hold of his free wrist.

"Can you get us some food? Please? We´re practically starving."

Coriolanus just nodded at her quietly, the space between the both of them growing as he pulled away from her. The girl suddenly feels empty without him standing next to her like a shield that´s been protecting her has been taken away.

The reporter - whose name seems to be Lucky Flickermann - now turned back to the cage ends his live report,

"The 10th annual Hunger Games are soon approaching, so come down to the Zoo and see the Tributes before it´s too late." he does a dramatic pause.

"And I mean, too late," he adds with a small smirk.

"Capitol news."

"I´m Lucretius.", he looks up to the sky before stretching out his hand and catching a coin.

"Lucky Flickermann." with that the live report ends.

Y/N´s words ring in Coriolanus´ ears for the next few hours, during the lecture and confrontation with Dr. Gaul, the second he reached the cafeteria, he put as much food as possible on his plate, filling it with various goods.

Multiple students chatter around him, but he´s not up for a debate about whose tribute will win, never the less just a simple conversation, the thought of it alone brings Coriolanus discomfort. So his eyes scatter across the filled room, and when he spots a small empty two-seat table he walks over to it and sits down.

As he takes a seat he waits for a second, the feeling of someone watching him never leaving since he collected a plate and filled it with a bunch of food, the view of it alone causing his stomach to erupt into quiet rumbling.

With a quick look around, checking if someone is watching him, he takes hold of the blue napkin and places it on his lap, his hands spring into action and he places a few cookies into the blue fabric.

"Trying to fatten that poor girl up, so you can finally start taking bets?" a voice right across from the small table pulls him out of his thoughts. Before him stands Sejanus, a look of anger displayed on his face, while his hands hold him up on the table.

Coriolanus stops in his tracks, Sejanus´ tone something he does not need right now.

"You think, they´ll give these kids a schap if we don´t give them a reason to do it." although it was meant as a question, the way Coriolanus´ tone changed throughout speaking made it seem like a simple statement.

"How do you think your Tribute will have a chance if he can´t eat." the mention of Marcus causes the look in Sejanus' eyes to soften, Coriolanus knew what to say in order to convince his… friend.

A short moment of silence washes over their conversation, Sejanus lets out a sigh before sitting down on the still-empty chair, his eyes not finding the blue eyes that bore into the side of his face.

"He was my classmate. Back in 2…" Sejanus says in a low voice.

In return, Coriolanus takes a look across the room.

"It's not your fault he's there-" Coriolanus speaks up, shaking his head a little.

"I know. I'm so blameless I'm choking on it. My father bought him for me you know, at the reaping… just so he can show me, that I could never go back to 2." Coriolanus stays quiet, as he watches the Brown haired boy tear up, guilt eating away at him.

"But being Capitol is gonna kill me," he adds, his head shaking slightly, his gaze empty.

"So do something about it." Coriolanus cuts in, his expression stern.

He just continues filling the napkin with a few slices of a sandwich, the look on his face challenging Sejanus to do the same.

"You're quite the Rebell." the brown-haired boy laughs out, before he whipes his nose, blinking once then twice in the hope of no tears falling.

"Oh, I am. I'm bad news." the blonde replies, a teasing tone to his words. All Sejanus can do is chuckle softly, before his own hands grab a soft napkin.

-

Both of them find themselves getting closer and closer to the 'zoo' where the Tributes are held against their will, displayed for everyone to inspect. From far away, the mentor of the girl from District 12 was able to make out the crowd that formed around the metal bars.

Coriolanus can't help but let his eyes wander, his blue orbs desperately trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N, as he takes big strides away from Sejanus as both of them part for the purpose of finding their tribute.

"Marcus!" he heard in the distance, but the voice was blurred.

Coriolanus can't focus on the rest of the words that leave Sejanus' mouth, as his eyes linger on the metal bars that separate him from her. He finally spots her, his tense shoulders relaxing a tad bit. The left side of her body is pressed against Jessup's, while Y/N's hand lays on the side of his neck. Both of them sitting on a rock with their backs to the crowd.

Coriolanus can tell that her mouth is moving, yet he can't seem to grasp onto what she's whispering in the ear of the boy who sits next to her. The blonde can't help but clench his jaw at the scene unfolding before his eyes, as his hands wrap a notch tighter around the food-filled fabric.

"Y/N" he speaks up, finally trusting his voice enough to do so.

The H/C-haired girl's eyes catch her mentor's quiet whisper, her head snapping to the side facing him. The small simile that spreads across her face does not go unnoticed by Coriolanus, as she brushes off her clothes. With small, yet quick steps she finally closes the distance between them.

His hands twitch beside his body, the urge to feel her skin against his resurfacing, as their eye contact never fades.

"You remembered?"

"Hmm?" Coriolanus hums, his eyes not leaving her face, she throws him a questioning look at his speechless expression.

"Oh right, right. I got this for you." he quickly says, the weight of the food in his hands leaving the second he places the napkin in her hands, their fingers touching for a split second, sending a shiver down his back.

Y/N herself can't help but feel her face warm at the contact, but she hides her face a little as she looks down at the meal in her hands. Within seconds she unwraps the cookies and the sandwich slices.

"Thank you, this will help us a lot."

"Us?" the boy from the Capitol mutters under his breath, wondering why you would even think about sharing the food he just gave you.

"Common, Jessup, eat," Y/N says with a nod of her head, her hand offering him a piece of some expensive-looking dish.

"'m not hungry," he mutters under his breath, his eyes staring daggers in Coriolanus' direction.

"No I insist, you have to eat." she pushes the food into his hands, and he throws her a thankful smile alongside a nod, yet before he walks back to the rock they sat on, he throws Coriolanus another look.

The mentioned boy holds the stare, and as Jessup turns away, his eyes land on a small wound that rests right underneath his ear. His brows furrow in confusion.

"What happened to his neck?"

Y/N gulps, her eyes not finding his.

"Bat bite. First night on the train." she nods sadly, her mind going back to when it happened.

"He didn't sleep a wink on the journey, making sure to keep the bats off so I can get some rest…" The girl's words grow quieter, her eyes trailing to the left as they find a Capitol girl making fun of the girl from District 10.

Y/N frowns when she observes the 'mentor' taunt her own tribute, holding a water bottle in her direction only to withdraw it when she reaches out to grab it. Y/N clenches her jaw at the sight.

"I learned in twelve that hunger is a weapon."

"Your friend over there sure knows it…"

"She's not my friend she is.." he thinks for a second, "..Poison with perfect teeth."

The girl from District 12 lets out a laugh, yet it's not fully genuine, her eyes fall back onto the food in her palms, a sickening feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Meanwhile, Coriolanus grabs a hold of the metal bar, as he leans forward looking down at her.

"Are you going to share everything that I give to you with Jessup?" he asks, his breath fanning along a strand of loose hair, their close proximity making it possible for him to whisper.

"Why?" the girl's eyes widened in confusion at his question.

"Think I can collect my strengths so I can strangle them in the arena? Coriolanus, I can not kill these people.." she hisses out, her words make her look almost helpless, and again the blonde feels the urge to reach out and grab her hand.

"But I might have a chance to help you," he replies quickly, his eyes somehow holding ambition.

"There is a possibility that I can make some suggestions to the game makers, I might even be able to let the audience send gifts into the arena. Food and water…" he mumbles assuringly, his head nodding along his words.

"Listen, the people can donate to you, so you have to convince them to like you, which they already do. You're the first to volunteer, ever, and for your sister too, that kind of stuff catches attention," he says enthusiastically.

"I don't want to talk about that, what I did there was no choice, I had to do that. Don't you understand?" she asks slightly taken back, her brows furring in bewilderment.

"Besides, I've seen the arena, there's nowhere to hide, what's the point in winning the audience over? The guards say you get money if you get more people to watch, and you say you want to help me… which is it?" she asks unsure, her eyes boring into his, as she rests her own hand on one of the cold metal bars, awaiting his response.

Coriolanus' mouth parts, yet no words escape, before his gaze lands on her hand, so close to his, and before he can stop himself his palm engulfs her smaller hand.

"Both," he states with confidence, as he gives her a firm nod, letting her know that he truly means it. Y/N breathes out in relief, as she nods back at him, the warmth of his calloused hands bringing her comfort. Yet, she wiggles her hand out from under his slightly tightening grasp, taking a sandwich and taking a bite, her stomach screaming at her to finish the whole meal.

As she continues to chew, she catches Coriolanus looking at the food in her grasp, when she catches his stare, he expeditiously averts his gaze, looking around as if she didn't just catch him ogling. Without a word, she takes one of the cookies and hands it to him through the bars.

"Oh, no thank you." he refuses to take the baked good from her.

"Saw you staring, just take it," she says with a shrug of her shoulders.

He hesitantly takes it from her, as the both of them lower to the ground in order to eat while sitting.

"Thought there was plenty of food in the Capitol," she asks, although it did not sound like a question, more like a fact that she simply stated. Her eyes are still on the sandwich in her grasp, while Coriolanus himself breaks the cookie in two, eating the first half of it in one bite.

He lets out a laugh at her statement, her words throwing him years back to the war.

"You know one time during the war, I ate a whole jar of paste. Just to stop the pain in my stomach." Y/N scrunches her nose in disgust.

"Well, how was it?"

He thinks for a moment, a smile forming on his lips, "Pasty." he laughs out, and Y/N can't help but let a giggle slip out as well before she muffles it with another bite of the food. Coriolanus' eyes stay on her, his eyes glimmering in amusement.

But the small moment dies when the girl looks away, her head turning slightly as she looks over her shoulder, the blonde's eyes follow hers.

"Little Wovey… she's so sweet… wouldn't hurt a fly… she reminds me of my sister…" she says, her head turning away from the little girl that currently rests against her district partner who looks deep in thought. Y/N swallows thickly at the thought of her little sister, now all on her own at home, having to watch her only relative die in the games. The thought alone causes the corners of her eyes to burn, yet she won't allow herself to shed one tear, not one, she promised her.

"I'm sorry…" the blonde whispers, as his face holds concern and guilt, he sends her a small assuring smile in order to lighten her mood.

"You seem like a good man, Coriolanus," Y/N claims.

Coriolanus slightly shakes his head, his eyes everywhere but never meeting her own. It seems like he's about to say something, but Y/N interrupts him.

"It would have been nice to meet you under different circumstances," she quickly adds, her eyes on the almost completely eaten sandwich, while she fidgets with her fingers.

"How about… we make a deal," he replies.

"A deal?" she asks, her eyes snapping back up to meet his blue ones.

"Yes. After all of this… I'll take you out on a date," he says with a serious tone. His hand reaches through the bars as it wraps around one of her wrists.

She laughs out at his 'deal', "Yeah, exactly, have a drink or two, very funny." she laughs again in disbelief while rolling her eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood, although that's pretty impossible.

"I'm serious."

"Have you seen these people? I don't stand a chance, I'll be dead within minutes in the arena, I never learned how to fight or hunt, my chances are practically zero." she huffs out, her free hand wrapping around his hand that is holding her other hand, attempting at pulling him off.

Yet his grip tightens, "I'm being serious like I said before, maybe I can change some rules, bend some even, I don't care, we'll go on that date," he says again.

Just as Y/N opens her mouth, a response at the tip of her tongue ready to be released, a scream erupts through the air.

Brandy, the tribute that had been taunted by her mentor, grabbed the bottle out of the glass, as she took hold of the mentor's collar pulling her closer with an angry yell. With a quick smash, she shatters the bottle into pieces and uses the remains as a weapon, forcefully stabbing it into the side of her neck. The already red-dressed girl is now covered in more red.

The screams alerted every individual around them, as other people screamed in horror at the brutality.

Y/N can't help but gasp in shock, just like Coriolanus she's back on her feet, her eyes trained on the girl on the ground gasping for air.

Coriolanus runs up right to the other mentor's side, using his hands to put pressure on the wound as a horrified expression spreads all over his features.

"It's okay. it's okay, I'll get help," he mutters out of breath, frantically looking out for someone who would provide what she needs.

"Somebody help us please!" after his plea, the sound of guns firing runs through the air, and with a thump, Brandy holds onto her stomach before hitting the ground, dead.

At the sound of shooting, Coriolanus hides his face underneath his arms, shielding himself from bullets that could hit him at any given moment. As he slowly raises back up, the horrified expression returns to his face, he watches the life drain from Arachne's face, her skin growing paler.

"Oh…no, no.." he rasps out, the events leave him speechless, and before he can register it, Peacekeepers roughly grab him by the arm and pull him up from the ground away from the lifeless body.

Taglist: (Crossed-out can’t be tagged)

@prettybliss | @unclecrunkle | @yourlocalwofreader | @ennycutie | @unamused-boss | @spatt777 | @xyzstar | @especiallythewomenandthechildren | @mysteris-things | @crackheadhours | @guacam011y | @clintssupremacy | @importantgalaxyrunaway | @zucchinimalfoy |

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #hunger games x reader #peeta mellark x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #finnick odair x reader

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him; Ignihyde

Summary: Yandere Idia x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

A/N: okay, here's the thing. I know technically Ortho is one of the first year crew now, and thus, he is technically as old as we are. However, in my head he has been ten years old for so long that it's hard for me to see him that way. I tried to think of a way this could work platonically, and I came up with nothing for this prompt. So no Ortho for this one. Sorry friends 🤷🏼‍♀️ also, I know this is not an 18+ blog, so some of you are minors, in which case, I am not judging you for liking Ortho, if that is the case. I'm just saying it's a no for me.

CW: tranquilizer darts, minor character death, yandere stuff

Other Parts: Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Diasomnia Non NRC Staff

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

You couldn't help but be…. suspicious. Idia had only grown smarter, and more creative over the years, which made you wonder…did Idia build your son? Flaming blue hair wasn't common.

But he aged normally. So he couldn't be an Idia creation. So maybe it really was a coincidence?

Not something you could worry about right now as the two of you hid from S.T.Y.X robots. 

The fact that you'd made it a year was pretty good, if you were being honest. You didn't have clearance to leave the Isle of Woe, but a scorned ex employee of Idia’s had let you stay hidden in his home. He didn't even make you pay rent because, in his words, keeping that pretentious bastard's favorite things away from him was payment enough. Aside from that little spiel, he was a sweet guy. Which is probably why he was fired. 

But someone must have ratted you both out. You'd heard a shot downstairs, followed by his pained groan. A groan that was only as loud as it was for the sole purpose of alerting someone hiding upstairs.

You were hiding under the bed, with your son. The man had lined the beds with materials the S.T.Y.X bots couldn't scan through. You didn't have much faith though. Not that you had a plan if you did manage to hide from the bots. Either way, this was probably game over for you.

But you'd rather game over didn't come from Idia.

You stayed quiet under the bed, as you heard the bots start wrecking rooms. One particularly loud crash woke the baby. You hurriedly rushed to calm him, but he started crying. You couldn't blame a kid for being a kid. 

Bots rushed to your room, and threw the bed you were hiding under across the room. They all pointed their tranquilizers at you, as one of the bots stomachs displayed Idia’s visage.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, please come home,” he cried. You didn't even know how to respond to that. You would have thought he'd be angry, but that would have been out of character for him.

“I know, I'm the absolute worst, but I'll be better for you! Please don't keep my son from me!”

Bargaining. Nice.

“I'll let you go outside for an hour a day. I'll buy you whatever you want. Please, please,please, please, please.”

“Oh my God! Idia! What I want is fucking freedom!” You snapped as you continued to try and calm the boy.

“I…I can't…”

“Yes you can!”

“I need you!”

“Well I don't want you!”

His eyes widened for a moment, completely taken aback. Then they narrowed, as he bit his lip in disdain. 

“Fine.”

One of the bots hit you with a tranquilizer dart. You cried out, but were quickly distracted from the pain as a bot took your son from your quickly numbing arms.

“No,” you groaned, reaching out as quickly as your body would let you, which was not very fast.

Your eyesight was darkening as the bots began to leave the room, leaving you alone with the bot projecting Idia.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Your vision faded as you were left alone in the room, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia shroud x reader

[kittykattropicanna]

would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.

Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!! 

Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3  I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3

TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…

I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone. 

One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends. 

It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.  

This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage. 

He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly. 

The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..

Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well. 

He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be. 

He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence. 

Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment. 

These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour. 

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt. 

But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?

I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?

Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”

You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful. 

First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary…. 

But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do. 

Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!

Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.

They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like. 

You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up. 

Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load. 

Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen

After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you 

Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost  Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years  Sentence ends: Year and a half  Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak. 

Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android. 

Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out. 

Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him….. 

So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..

I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(

Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter. 

When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed. 

But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”

I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key. 

Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man. 

But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)

After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter. 

“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”

His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle! 

You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…

Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :( 

When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(

“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)” 

And of course you did!! He asked so politely! 

Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((

You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(

You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body. 

After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for 

Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible. 

Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least

When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((

Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:( 

His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you 

He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((

You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3

Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(

He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(

That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.

Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise. 

You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!

Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(

Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real 

His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….

He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….

In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(

Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

#PrisonPenPal!Simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #simon ghost riley imagines #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley imagine #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #ghost call of duty #cod headcanons #fanfiction #fanfic #cod au

[jocelynships]

Ya know it’s not fair that most of my favorite people live so far away. I’m lucky Devin and I are super close but I wish my friends and sister lived closer to me and it sucks and I can’t stop crying bc it’s been such a shit day and I just want some comfort

#I’m very overwhelmed and had a bad sensory overload at work while alone at the desk #I found out two of my coworkers are picking on me behind my back for being so sheltered and being a ‘goody two shoes’ #and I can’t even fucking say anything bc I don’t have proof except for someone overheard them saying it #and one of them went on his break 5 mins before I had to leave #and my manager told him to stay but he fucking DIDN’T #all so he could go fuck some chick in his car #needless to say I’m really mad and while I enjoy this job a lot more than my old one #I’m really fucking angry and hurt about the fact I’m getting made fun of FOR MY FUCKING TRAUMA #also they’re rich kids who don’t even need these fucking jobs #and they never had to worry about SHIT #and they’re like ‘you need to start going out and doing stuff more often’ #UM WITH WHAT CAR AND WHAT FUCKING MONEY #they’re so out of touch with reality bc mommy and daddy pay for all their shit #and they’re both teenagers too so like??? #god I can’t wait for the one bitch to go to college and the other guy to fuck off once he gets an offer to go into his field of study #also they weren’t abused and don’t understand how fucked up my brain is from depression and anxiety and basically tell me #‘have you tried not being depressed?’ #like DUDE. I WAS ABUSED FOR 18 YEARS AND NO ONE IN MY FAMILY EXCEPT 2 PEOPLE GIVE A FUCK ABOUT ME #I HAVE FUCKING ISSUES

[starkeyboy]

the archer

luke castellan x reader

inspired by

“Combat, I’m ready for combat

I say I don’t want that, but what if I do?

Cause cruelty wins in the movies

I’ve got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you”

i watched as luke smiled at me when i entered the cabin. home of hermes children. home of thieves. also the home of the undetermined. i didn’t smile back as i took a step back, guarding myself.

“this can’t be where i belong, my father promised i would be safe,” i looked behind me to see chiron gone. tears lined my vision as this was my destiny.

“stay strong my sweet y/n. my sweet kind y/n. don’t let them get you, be strong. don’t be scared for war. you’re the strongest girl out there, this is your destiny.”

my destiny he said. the boy stood in front of me as he smiled kindly. 13 years old. he held his hand out as he awaited a hand shake. i looked at him through his curls on his head covering his eyes. my eyes went to his hand and i shook my head.

“this is my destiny he said. i don’t belong here and i will find my way out.” i looked at him through my eyelashes. his hand dropped to his side. the boy beside him snickered.

“come back and get me when you’re out, ya?” the boy said. my eyes softened as his eyes shined through. no. don’t let him get to you. run.

“Easy they come, easy they go

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

I never grew up, it’s getting so old

Help me hold onto you”

year after year came. i was now 16 at camp half-blood. still undetermined. they eventually gave me a bunk as it became known i wasn’t gonna be claimed by my mother.

every kid came in and they went out like dust on the shelves. i watched as luke laughed with chris and his other buddies. i had grown a liking towards luke as it has been 4 years now living in the same cabin with him. i adjusted to his schedule and his ways in here. this was his home.

i felt his eyes drift over to me as i grabbed my necklace. 4 years. and still no mom. i felt like a kid. searching and searching for her mom in the grocery store.

i felt a hand on my shoulder. i looked at luke as his scent filled the air. i sighed as i brushed his hand off and walked off.

“I’ve been the archer

I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling?

But who could stay…All the king’s horses, all the king’s men

Couldn’t put me together again

‘Cause all of my enemies started out friends

Help me hold onto you”

18 years old. 6 clay beads on my neck. my chest stood tall as the new boy entered the cabin. percy jackson they called him. chiron stood next to him as he welcomed the boy.

“everyone, everyone,” he clapped to grab our attention. everyone stopped talking. percy’s eyes dropping, avoiding eye contact.

“you’re attention please,” i looked over to luke. his eyes averting to mine. i grabbed my stuff and lost our contact. “this is percy jackson” chiron smiled brightly. percy made eye contact with me as he turned to chiron but he had left.

i turned and walked over to luke, his attention going to me.

“keep him close, he’s scared” his eyes pierced mine. he knew exactly what i meant. “please” i pleaded. “i’ll do my job behind the scenes”

“i promise,” he said as he nodded. i thanked him and i secured my bag and looked over to the boy. taking out a bag of blue candy and sighing. i felt my guard go down slightly and never in the past 6 years was my guard down. this boy was special.

°°°

i watched as luke showed him archery and percy failed at that. he failed with the Hephaestus kids and the list went on. i walked into the mess hall seeing the boys speaking and it was like luke felt my aura and he immediately turned to look at me. his heading nodding towards my food.

i sat down next to luke and i looked down at the choice of food.

“what’s your name?” percy asked as i analyzed my food. i looked up and looked to luke and back to percy.

“y/n.” i simply said. he nodded and smiled slightly.

“you were there when chiron introduced me. you look like you take business serious, i mean i’ve seen you around camp as well while luke was touring me.” my eyes back on the food, his words going through my head and staying.

“think of y/n as a protector percy,” luke stated and i felt a small smile rise but i immediately lost it seeing luke notice it. don’t let your guard down. “she sees a lot of her in you” the bell dinged as it was time to offer. i stood tall as luke and chris explained it to percy. they followed after me as i took a deep breath and scraped all my food in the pit.

i heard a sigh behind me as i knew luke wasn’t happy about this. not eating once again.

luke’s pov

we sat back down as y/n sauntered off back to the field. i looked back over to percy and he watched her.

“she didn’t eat” he said as he looked back to me. i looked over to chris and he nodded. we had to tell him.

“y/ns been here for 6 years and has been unclaimed since, percy. she’s a strong woman. she’s special to us.” i stated and his eyes fell. “her offering her plate is her silently pleading for her mom to come through. but she never has.” he looked down to his food and looked back over to where y/n walked.

“we think of y/n as the archer of the camp. the support of us. she won’t straight out say it but she struggles a lot with her mom not stepping up and everyday gets harder and everyday she slips farther away. but ever since you got here, i’ve seen her guard go down slightly. never have we seen that.” i said.

“why me?” he pleaded “i’m not special”

“y/n thinks you are.”

y/ns pov

“Dark side, I search for your dark side

But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here?

And I cut off my nose just to spite my face

Then I hate my reflection for years and years”

i stared at the bow and arrow before me. my eyes averting to every possible target. my hands gripped the wood as my eyes landed on the center. my attention was soon focused to the two boys dueling beside archery.

luke laughed as percy was once again on the ground. i lowered the weapon as my eyes focused on luke. he held out his hand to percy to help him up. he looked over to me and his face softened. i lost our eye contact and sighed.

luke was special in many ways. camp counselor, best swordsman in the valley. when we met when i was 12 i regretted turning down his offer of his handshake. my dads words stuck with me that day when i made eye contact with him. i was scared.

“don’t let them get you”

but i left out the words he spoken to me in the car on the way to the woods.

“can i give you some advice?” my dad said as i looked over to him. i nodded slightly.

“it’s okay to let go. to let your guard down, but not that easy.” he said. my head fell back on the seat, the rain pouring. “just keep them close” he whispered. i never asked him who “them” was. only to find out it was luke.

my arm stretched as i pulled the arrow back. i felt tears line my eyes of that day. the day luke welcomed me and i was a jerk. i hated myself for it for years. for 6 years. i felt my eyes sting harder. a small sob letting out. my hand letting go of the arrow as the wood fell. my knees lowering to the ground.

“it’s okay to let go.”

it was like slow motion when luke fell in front of me.

“to let your guard down”

“Cause they see right through me

They see right through me

They see right through

Can you see right through me?

They see right through

They see right through me

I see right through me

I see right through me”

sobs racked my body. pain going through my chest. luke held me close. my hands gripped onto his shirt as my tears coated his shoulder.

“i’m so sorry” i repeated over and over. “so sorry”

he held me closer to him and his hand ran through my hair. holding onto me.

“i’ve been the prey”

i felt my body grow tired on the grass as i grew exhausted. he pulled me back as my eyelids hooded. his eyes lined with tears as well.

“lets get you back home” he whispered as he kissed my forehead.

“but who could stay”

when he laid me down on the bed, i quickly grabbed his hand.

“stay” i moved to make room and he instantly made way into the bed.

as i had my head on his chest, i sighed as i ran my hand over his shirt.

“i regret not taking your hand” i said quietly. i moved my attention to his face. my eyes looking at his scar, fingers moving to trace it. his eyebrows furrowed. “this is my destiny he said,” as i recited the words i said to him. his eyebrows relaxing.

his hand came and moved hair away from my face to behind my ear.

“i’ve had my guard up for 6 years luke. i need to let go.” tears once again lined my eyes. “you’ve done so much for me, i was so rude before i finally opened up at 17 and let you in. i don’t deserve you. i deserve to be bullied and pushed around-“

“y/n, stop.” i looked at him as he cut me off. “that day you walked in the cabin when i was 13, i felt something immediately. the need to keep you close, no matter how many times you’ve pushed me away. and me doing that, i’ve seen the small things that you wouldn’t think i’ve seen.” he smiled as he cupped my face. “the blush when i called your name. the smile when i talked about you to percy. but the falter in your eyes when you saw him. the protectiveness when clarisse pushed him. the glint of sadness when the kids got claimed. and it’s the way i wanted to hold you, but you never let your guard down. so i didn’t make you, i would never. i knew deep down, that you would come to me when you were ready.” he said as he wiped a tear away from my eye.

i never noticed. luke was behind me when i needed him. he was in front of me when i needed him. he was there the whole time but i ignored the fact that i needed him. but i also never noticed the gleam in his eyes when i walked into the room. the immediate turn around when he felt my presence. the immediate thrown of his sword and helmet when i let out a sob and drop to the knees.

“luke,” i said to him as i moved to lay my hand on his neck. “im ready, i dont wanna be afraid anymore” he leaned down and kissed me softly. i closed my eyes and chased his lips as he pulled just slightly.

“i’m not gonna let you be afraid, i won’t leave you, i promise” he said he sealed the promise with a kiss.

“Combat, I'm ready for combat”

i never noticed that i fell in love with luke castellan.

#luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson imagine

[milla984]

With Neighbors Like These

Summary: Jack goes away for the weekend and Aaron and Reader can finally have some alone time (inspired by this concept)

Pairing: post season 12 Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: kissing, mutual masturbation, moderate dirty talk, penetrative sex, protected sex, established relationship, unspecified age gap, Hotch dealing with parenting issues, Jack is mentioned but not present

Word Count: 2k

The house was unusually quiet as you walked in, leaving your shoes at the entrance to proceed barefoot towards the small office Aaron had arranged for himself with a few retouches to the spare room in the back.

Despite having a key in case of emergencies and whatnot, like a very good neighbor, it was a common decision you’d only use it on specific occasions and mostly when Jack wasn’t around. A single soccer cleat lay abandoned in a corner in the living room; were it to happen on a regular day you knew the mere sight of it would have sparked a fierce argument, but this morning was different. 

The evening before a very concerned father had driven his fourteen-year-old son to the arranged meeting point, camping gear in tow, and Jack was now enjoying a two nights excursion somewhere in the local woods. You had a feeling that, conversely, Aaron wasn’t getting a kick out of the child-free weekend - confirmed by his rapid typing on the keyboard when you knocked on the wooden frame of the French door to catch his attention.

He looked at you and cracked a smile, still too focused on what he was doing. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”  

You dropped your purse under his chair and hugged him from behind, the scent of his aftershave filling your nose with pure delight.

“Feeling lonely, already?” 

“Why?!” he enquired. “I didn’t have to shout five times to turn off that damn videogame, last night… and nobody guzzled down half a gallon of milk directly from the bottle, at breakfast!”

“You’re also worried, I can tell,” you added and he shrugged, defeated, then went back to focusing on the screen.

He’d been working part-time as an FBI consultant for a law firm for about a year and you had never seen him putting his job before his kid: he was an active member of the PTA and even volunteered to chaperone whenever he could (something that many moms and other dads found incredibly hot, without a doubt). If he was working on a Saturday he was a hundred percent desperate for a distraction.

Your palms brushed over his shoulders and a delicate touch soon turned into a proper massage, kneading his muscles through the polo shirt he was wearing. 

“Relax. You’re too tense,” you mumbled. He had only shared a few unpleasant details about his life as a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in D.C. before he and Jack moved into the neighborhood; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius to figure out his former employment as an FBI agent had taken a huge toll on both of them.

“I’m not sure I should have signed that consent form,” he confessed. 

“His entire class is with him and his teachers all have cell phones, nothing’s going to happen. Save for a few mosquito bites,” you replied. “And don’t get me wrong... but aren’t you being just a bit overprotective?!”

“Jack told me the same thing when I said I wanted to think about it. Except, he didn’t phrase it so nicely,” Aaron grinned and shook his head while he rose to his feet. “Sorry, enough with the family issues,” he apologized, “it’s a lovely Saturday morning. Have you got any interesting plans?” 

“I have. And they don’t involve homework,” you declared, and as you pushed his laptop to the opposite side of the desk he locked an arm around your waist, his expression reverting to a serious one.

“... so you’re a bad influence.”

The intimidating attitude he could pull off with a single stare never failed to make your legs turn into jelly. 

You lowered your voice to a purr. “You don’t even kn—”

His soft lips pressed onto yours stopped you mid-sentence. The fact he had a teenage son registered in your mind only as a foggy thought and the power he’d had on you since the instant you saw him jogging around the block was almost inexplicable.

“You’re right, no more homework. How about I take you out for lunch?” he proposed and the warmth of his breath on your skin ignited a fire you weren’t at all convinced you could control. Or would.

You hugged him tight, your bodies finally making contact. “How about we take care of something else, first?”

Aaron’s attitude towards romantic relationships exuded manners and consideration, the portrait of a gentleman from a different era, so the response to your suggestion came as a surprise: he’d always shown a preference for the intimacy of his bedroom, even though his palms stroking over your breasts to make your nipples grow stiff and visible through the fabric was the perfect sign he had no intention of wasting any time to move the action upstairs. 

Your tongues lustfully met in a second kiss, prompting you to let out an excited sigh as you blindly undid and removed his belt before letting it fall on the floor with a loud clunk. You reached for his zipper and he sighed in return but gasped a second later when you gave him a light push that forced him to sit down again. 

“Show me how you do it when we’re not together.”

Aaron’s eyes widened - confusion and stupor at the beginning, then the sheer thrill of the idea lit up his gaze. And made him hard entirely.

He sank into the cushion behind his back to finish unzipping his pants and pulling them down his hips so that his swollen erection was only contained by a thin layer of underwear. 

“You’re just going to watch?” he asked, locking eyes with you. You could have sworn that look alone increased the temperature in the room by a couple of degrees. “Doesn’t seem fair.”

You reached under the flowy dress to roll your panties along your thighs, letting them crumple around your ankles; you sat on the desk and lifted the skirt up to your waist, your feet resting on Aaron’s parted knees. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He swallowed nervously but didn’t miss a movement of your fingers starting to draw circles around your most sensitive spot, guided by the aching tension in your belly; your mouth watered at the sight of his cock whipping free and he noticed, so he took his time to wrap his right hand around it.

You knew how to work his length, moving up and down in slow and long strokes as foreplay, nevertheless witnessing such a handsome man masturbating for you proved to be one of the most lascivious experiences of your life.

“I always think about you when I touch myself…” you confessed, and he held on to your ankle with his free hand while you rubbed your clit. 

“Are you trying to make me lose control?”

You nodded in confirmation and he growled. 

He was now coating his shaft and palm with the leaking precum, using only his index and middle finger to collect some of the slickness and spread it over the bulging head, the exposed glans glistening in the process. That was when he usually begged you to move faster, since his delicate skin was lubricated enough and increased friction meant pleasure - not pain.

“I’m really wet for you,” you teased him, your own desire pooling at your core, but his reaction threw you off balance. 

“Stop, please… stop,” he whimpered, “this is not…”    

His ragged breath made it difficult for him to articulate his words. “I need you.”

You gestured at the purse that was still under his chair and he handed it to you; sharing the house with a teenager meant Aaron had grown accustomed to some of his clean t-shirts randomly disappearing from his drawers and wardrobe, so you both knew nothing out of the ordinary could be hidden among his personal stuff. 

He stared at you, entranced, as you retrieved the small box you’d carried with you and tore one of the foil packages open. 

“A little closer, maybe…?” you joked, and when he stood up you bit your lower lip in anticipation. He kissed you lightly on your forehead as you unrolled the latex down his hardness, then you pinched his chin and smiled at him.

“Better?!”   

He whined again. “Not exactly.”

You grabbed him by the nape of his neck, speaking softly to his ear. “Make me come. I can’t wait anymore.”

The uninhibited request seemed to have flipped a switch in him: the sound of a pencil holder spilling its content made you laugh as Aaron enthusiastically raised your legs in the air and held them to his chest, so he could start rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds.

It was torture but he was damn good at it.

When he managed to get himself covered in your arousal he slipped the bulbous head past your entrance. “It’s so big…” you muttered.

Truth be told he wasn’t that well-endowed and you had nothing against it, since you’d never been keen on painful sex, still you welcomed him with a loud moan once he buried himself inside of you. Even a gentleman from another era didn’t mind a bit of flattering and appreciation of his manhood. 

He wasn’t as vocal, though, but his deep groans reverberated in his throat in a manifestation of primal, untamed passion; he looked so solemn it drove you insane, his brows furrowed and tiny droplets of sweat trapped between his short hair, almost as if he was directing all of his energies into screwing your brains out.

When his thrusts grew slower but more intense you wriggled your legs free and locked them around his waist: with a last, fierce grunt he twitched several times and you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, which was always the biggest turn-on for you.

With your eyes still closed you welcomed the pressure on your lips, a not-so-subtle invitation to take his index and middle finger in your mouth; you sucked on them alternately, happy to oblige, tasting traces of the salty precum. You clawed at his forearm when he brought the wet digits to your clit, rubbing and drawing circles just like you’d shown him before.

“Aaron… I’m…” you mewled, grabbing a fistful of his hair as you - indeed - came with his throbbing cock still inside you, lungs pleading for air and inner muscles clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of you, the additional weight making you realize how harsh the desk’s smooth surface was on your back, yet you cupped his face and stroked his flustered cheeks with your thumbs. 

“I missed you so much,” you breathed out as soon as you were able to.

He pulled out and started to fix his clothes, and before he got rid of the condom he planted the sweetest kiss on your lips. “I’m sorry about the other weekend. Jack wasn’t supposed to play, last minute change of plans—”

“Don’t be sorry, I know you love going to his games,” you said, propping up on one elbow to straighten yourself as he stood in front of you. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to disappoint your biggest fans, would you?”

He was still heaving a little and looked at you with a pensive pout. “... what?!”

“I mean, you’ve seriously never noticed…?” you locked your hands behind his neck as you tried to come up with a good imitation of the cooing voice of the soccer moms who you knew swarmed the sidelines every time he was present.

“Aaron, can you help us move the coolers? Aaron, we need to rearrange those chairs! Aaron, come here and have some cake! We made it for you ‘cause you’re such a good dad and it’s soooooo hot!”

He laughed, the vibrations in his ribcage making your breasts jiggle, then he gave you his best smile to date. “You’re jealous?!”

You shrugged, holding him closer. “No. To be honest I don’t even blame them, you are a good dad. Which is very hot, by the way.”

“Thank you,” he laughed again as he wrapped you in his arms to kiss you one more time, forcing you to close your eyes and get lost in his tender embrace. You muffled a surprised gasp when he playfully nipped at your earlobe with another heart-stopping smile. 

“But just to be clear…” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s usually cookies, not cake!”

@hornyhornyhimbos

NB: I don't really have an Aaron Hotchner fic taglist 'cause I usually write about Spencer Reid but if you wish to be tagged in future Hotch-centric works (SFW or not, who knows?) you can either send me an ask or leave a comment below.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #post season 12 aaron hotchner #criminalminds #criminalminds fanfic #criminalminds fic #criminalminds smut #smut #mdni #minors do not interact #not beta read #my gifs #hotch is a dilf #also i hate the title but who cares we're here for the smut #milla writes n*s*f*w* #or rather... milla doesn't know why she's writing hotch stuff #i have a strong suspect someone is brainwashing me with all that talk about him #not naming names you know who you are

[babyshoesnerdshit]

night shift

CW cursing, child neglect, sexual harassment, misgendering, drunk person (although not very well written lol), general violence, slight infantilization

idk i wanted to try my hand at writing some shitty platonic yandere batfam x transmasc reader (its self indulgence bby)

Hunger pained (y/n)'s stomach. Stupid cheapskate convenience store didn't give employee discounts though so he had to wait until he got home to eat anything, if there was even anything to eat that wasn't spoiled. (y/n) would have just stolen something to eat from the store (he didn't give a shit about their profit) but the security camera mocking him in the corner kept him from it. And with his phone almost dead (y/n) had nothing to do but stair at the wall and listen to the shitty radio station the store played.

(y/n) hated the night shift, it almost guarantied he would have to deal with more crackheads and drunks than his coworkers. Regardless of his feelings about the night shift it paid the most (even though that was still barely minimum wage), and he really needed the money. Even though (y/n) still lived with his mother (and technically father but he was hardy ever around), his parents had stopped taking care of him a long time ago. So (y/n) was the one to take care of himself. Sometimes he had to take care of his mother too, reminding her to eat or sleep. The bells on the door jangled, shaking (y/n) from his train of thought. Ah yes, the other type of Gotham crazies. Vigilantes.

"Hey kid."

"I'm not a kid." for some reason the batclan had decided that the 5th avenue convenience store was the best place for mid-patrol snacks.

"Ah yes, the old and wise 18 year old. My bad." Red Hood had a thick layer of sarcasm in his mechanical voice. (y/n) couldn't see his face from behind his helmet but was entirely sure he had the stupidest smirk underneath. (y/n) simply rolled his eyes (fighting back a smile) as hood moved about the store grabbing a random assortment of food and drinks. As hood was filling his arms the bell sounded again, this time it was a middle-aged man. (y/n) could smell the alcohol on him from the register. The man looked around, stopping as he saw (y/n).

"Welll helllooo~" the man had started leaning on the counter of the register. "Yoou're a fine slut, i could show you a reeall goOod time~" He smelled even worse up close. (y/n) sent a panicked glance over to Red Hood who had dropped his things and was now walking aggressively towards the man. "Wha you ignorin me BITCH!" the man lifted his arm to strike. (y/n) flinched, lifting his arms to cover his face.

"Leave. Him. Alone." Hood's voice was dark and low. His grip on the man's arm was painful if the man's face was any indicator.

"H-hey Mr. Red Hood. me and the lil' lady were just havin a niice talk." The man had lost any confidences and aggression he once had in fount of the crime lord. "She wuz jus bein a bitch, you understaannd right?" he sniveled. A sickening crunch was heard from the mans arm where Red Hood's grip tightened. The man started convulsing with pain and screaming. (y/n) felt sick.

"I'm going to deal with this trash. I'll be right back." Hood dragged the man out of the store, bells jingling behind him. It was moments like this where (y/n) remembered just how dangerous Red Hood actually was. Living in Gotham, (y/n) had gotten unfortunately used to getting catcalled and harassed, but he could never stop the shaking of his hands and the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with it.

Moments later the bells sounded again, (y/n) couldn't help but jump slightly. It was Red Hood.

"Sorry about that kid." hood picked up the food he had dropped earlier and set it on the counter.

"Ah, it's ok." (y/n) hated how small he sounded. Taking a breath he started to scan the things hood had picked out and tried to steady himself. "It's Gotham, shit like that happens all the time."

"That doesn't make it ok." Hood sounded softer than before. (y/n) felt anger crawl up his throat, the bats always treated him like a kid. Even Robin! And he was, like, 12!

"That'll be $29.47, you want a bag?" (y/n) tried not to show his anger. As upset as he might have been, Hood did just save him from an icky situation.

"Nah." Hood picked up half of what he bought with one arm as he flipped a 50 onto the counter. "Keep the change." He started to leave.

"Hood, you're forgetting half your shit." He had left a large banana nut muffin, a pack of gummy sharks, a chocolate milk, and a packet of pizza flavored combos.

"They're for you kid, you look starving." He was out the door before (y/n) could protest.

(y/n) sighed with a light smile, well at least he wouldn't be hungry for the rest of his shift.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jason was fucking livid. This god damn BASTARD! Who the fuck did he think he was, harassing his little brother. Raising his FILTHY had at him. Jason was seething.

"RR" Jason turned his comm on.

"Jonathan Davis, 54, 237 Maple Street, apartment 122, married to Eliza Davis, daughter is Maria Davis, place of work 57 West End Road." Tim already knew, he was watching it from the security camera back at the cave.

"I only spared him so that you could make his life something worse than death." Jason staired down at the beaten and bruised body of the man.

"Don't worry. It will be." Tim's voice was cold and calculated. No doubt already planning all the ways this man would watch his life fall apart.

Jason leaned down to the barely conscious man, "If you DARE go fucking near him again, I'll leave your head for your wife and daughter to find in your fridge." the man simply looked at him with fear. Jason grabs him by the scalp, "Do you understand?" his tone was dark, made even more intimidating by the mechanical modulator.

"Y-yes! I understand! I understand!" the man cried.

"Good." Jason shoved his head back into the filthy ground of the alleyway. 'right where trash belongs' Jason thought to himself.

#please be nice to me #this is the the first fanfic i've ever written #well published #but still #batfam #batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere #transmasc reader #yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere red hood #yandere red hood x reader #platonic yandere red hood #platonic yandere red hood x reader #yandere jason todd #platonic yandere jason todd #yandere jason todd x reader #platonic yandere jason todd x reader #yandere red robin #platonic yandere red robin #yandere tim drake #platonic yandere tim drake #yandere red robin x reader #yandere tim drake x reader

[chronically-ghosted]

fade into you

rating: Explicit (18+)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 4K

summary: counting down the days until the new baby arrives, you’re already wound to a breaking point. Fortunately, Dieter is as good a husband as he is a father. 

warnings: pregnancy, hormonal behavior due to pregnancy, fluffy cute behavior with kids, oral (m!receiving), Dieter is a sensitive king and loves your tummy, brief body insecurity, pregnancy sex, smut, thigh fucking, daddy/mommy dynamic – mostly tongue in cheek, and finally the return of the greatest tag gone far too long from our lives - daddy!dieter

a/n: congrats @burntheedges you are the first prompt for my 1k follower celebration! This was your prompt for Dieter: "Your shirt is inside out." "Can you help me fix that?" This takes place in the same universe as Little Monsters, but you don’t have to have read that one to understand this one. Thank you SO much for sending this in!

🤍Dieter Bravo Masterlist 🤍Masterlist

I wanna melt in I wanna soak through I only wanna move when you move I wanna breathe out when you breathe in then I wanna fade into you

“C’mon – c’mon, just –,” your outstretched toe barely scrapes the end of the pen. You’re sweating – of course, you’re sweating, you’re always sweating these days. You try inching further down on the bed, as far as your aching back will allow, your leg fully extended, stretched so long you know you’re just flirting with a massive cramp – 

You manage to snag the pen between your toes but as you bring it forward, the weight of the top slips back – “fuck, no!” and with a clatter, the pen tips backwards out of your grasp and onto the floor. After spending ten minutes trying to a fucking pen that you accidentally put there only after you managed to roll your way off the bed to go to the bathroom for the third time in forty-five minutes, the weight of it all hits you. The massive weight of you sinks back against the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, begging yourself not to cry.

You had all but demanded some time alone to work on the bills the producer wanted you to sort through. It was the last thing on your to-do list before you mentally allowed yourself to start your maternity leave and at this rate, it would be done by the time the nearly-grown baby in your stomach was a walking, talking ten year old. In that weird sixth sense mothers and their unborn children share, you feel your son turn and gently one foot presses against your forearm draped over your massive belly. In any other context, your heart would have been made ten times stronger, fortified by the love of your son.

Right now, it just makes you burst into tears. 

You’re crying so hard you don’t hear the back door open, or the rousing chorus of Baby Shark that echoes through the house. If you were listening, you’d hear the squelch of wet flip flops traipsing through the kitchen floor, the song only occasionally broken by giggles and jokes about towel monsters coming to get little girls who drip water all over the living room, and a loud raspberry on soft skin. 

He opens the door before you even have time to try to pull in the loud, wailing sob. 

“Baby, look at –,” 

“Dieter, don’t –,” you snatch up a pillow and shove your face into it, ashamed, embarrassed, and angry all at once. “Don’t look at me like this.” 

When he had left you an hour ago, you had your hot tea by the side of the bed and your game face on – one of your sexier faces, if anyone asked him. You swore up and down this was the last thing and then it was smooth-sailing. You loved overworking yourself even while eight months pregnant, so Dieter and your doctor managed to make an agreement with you: all work must be done in bed. 

You had your tea, a snack, even a towel wrapped around the headboard so you could pull yourself upright out of the bed to go to the bathroom unassisted while Dieter and Zelle went down to the pool . You, like you so often do, had a fool-proof plan. And to be quite honest, those were Dieter’s favorite kind of plans. 

Listening to his ‘you think I can’t do it? watch me, fuck you’ wife and mother of his child (soon to be another) wail like the house was on fire made something inside of him break on a microscopic level. Like his organs were suddenly perforated with a million tiny cuts. 

His bottoms still wet from the pool and Zelle’s wet suit quickly soaking the front of his t-shirt, Dieter approaches, his hand squeezing the arch of your foot to let him know he’s there. That did nothing to deter the anguish sobbing or inch the pillow away from your face. 

With Zelle on his hip, he slides closer, touching you the whole time until he’s seated right beside you, his hand on your thigh. Your sobbing might only be second to Zelle’s own yelling cry in successfully destroying him from the inside out.

“Baby . . .”

You don’t flinch but he sees your knuckles go white – you’re nearly at the end, but you can’t seem to stop. As Dieter waffles between drawing you into his chest with his free arm or just being there for you while you let it all out, the weight on his hip shifts and a little pudgy hand brushes the back of your knuckles.

“Mama?” 

Your sobbing stutters to a halt with a deep hiccup and all at once you go still. Very slowly, the pillow is lowered and your pink, snotty, dribbly face peers up at him. It’s not funny for you, and he knows this and he knows he won’t laugh but he wants nothing more than to pull you in close and kiss off those tears that have been nearly a constant presence in the last two weeks. Instead, his little girl beats him to it.

Zelle wiggles off his hip towards you and you take her in your arms, letting out one more whine as she wraps her tiny arms around your neck. She rubs her little face in your neck and you huff.

“Now, I feel silly,” you blubber. With a small chuckle, Dieter reaches over and gets a few tissues from the bedside table. He hands them over and you try to juggle Zelle and reaching over your swollen tummy to take them.

“C’mere, baby, let Mama have a second.” Zelle folds into his shoulder, her bright, inquisitive eyes never leaving your face as you wipe yourself dry and blow your nose. He rubs your thigh in circles. “You’re not silly. Whatever ever made you break out into deep sobs on a Thursday afternoon in our secluded bedroom is totally normal.” 

You give a watery laugh, sniffing as you try to adjust your pillows, Baby Brave Number Two rolling back into your kidneys. He doesn’t kick, he's as unassuming as possible, but he can’t help how he floats. 

“I dropped a pen,” you murmur with a sigh. “I just got comfortable after waddling back in from the bathroom and I dropped my pen.” 

“Mama mad?” Zelle hides her little face beneath a curtain of hair. Dieter Bravo’s offspring in every conceivable way, Zelle is rarely this timid – only when there’s even but a hint of an implication that she’s in trouble. You’d see those same puppy dog eyes come out of the man with his hand up against her small back more than a dozen times. 

“No, baby, I’m not mad.” You shake your head and those wide eyes get even bigger. “I’m just having a lot of feelings and I’m not doing a good job at managing them.”

“Yeah, like remember how you felt on your first day of preschool?” Dieter slides Zelle across his waist so she sits between you two. She glances back between your faces, anxiety and confusion twisting up her little features. “You were mad and sad and scared all at once so you started crying when we dropped you off?” She nods and he tucks a strand of delicate hair over her ear. “But then we had that talk in the car and you felt better. Mama just needs to do that.”

“Talk? Mama talk?” 

He smiles at her and pulls her into his chest, smelling her strawberry L’Oreal shampoo, and a peace he’d never known before sinks into his bones. He feels whole with his little girl in his arms.

“Yes, she just needs to talk. Right, Mama?”

He pulls back and watches you visibly swallow. Not a knot of sadness but something else. It’s gone from your eyes by the time Zelle turns back around. 

“I’m just really excited for your little brother to get here,” you say with a soft smile, your hand absentmindedly stroking the swell of your stomach where a little foot had been pressed just a few minutes ago. “Aren’t you?”

Zelle nods, smiling, and puts her ear to your stomach. A minute later, Dieter’s wide palm covers yours. He interlaces his fingers with yours and he smiles. The smile that’s been cultivated and cured over half a dozen years together, and recent late nights as new parents. A smile that has never graced a single magazine cover or Instagram reel. A smile that is forever and always will be yours. 

“Come on, love bug, it’s bath time.” Dieter swings Zelle up into his arms and nibbles on her neck making her giggle. 

“Then dinner time,” you grunt as you inch towards the edge of the bed. You try and swing your legs off the edge but end up nearly toppling over your lowered center of gravity.

“Baby –,” his firm grip steadies you, stops you from rolling into the bedside table. Those lines at the corners of his eyes sharpen for a second as he looks you over, worry all at once endearing and annoying. You hated being coddled but Dieter loved to coddle. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you can hear how out of breath you sound and you grimace. Dieter doesn’t let go of your arm until you’re firmly planted on the ground next to him and you squeeze his bicep as reassuringly as you possibly can. He loosens his grip, concern wrinkling his forehead, his hand sliding from your arm, to your elbow then over your belly once again. Baby Bravo jostles you where his father’s hand sits.

“See, we’re all okay.” 

Your gazes meet at the same time and something softens in his eyes, soothes him and you down to the very beat of your heart. As if in a daze, Dieter’s eyelids flutter half-shut and his eyes slip to your mouth, he puts his hand on your swollen waist as he kisses you – deeply, with an intensity that makes your knees quiver. 

“Ew.”

A puff of breath fans your cheeks as Dieter breaks the kiss with a laugh. On his hip, Zelle chews on her little fist, an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. 

“You can’t say ‘ew’. You only exist because of kisses like that –,”

“Dieter!” 

He shakes his head before kissing Zelle on her little nose. “Tough crowd tonight. But even little sharks need to get a bath before dinner.”

Zelle scrunches up her nose, baring her crooked little teeth, and raises her fingers like claws. “Rawr.”

You hear Dieter chuckle as he walks her down to the bathroom. “Yes, baby, that’s definitely the sound sharks make.”

The bills aggressively shoved to the floor, you are folding the last bit of laundry over the bed after dinner when Dieter saunters in. Still in his trunks and shirt from earlier in the day, a faint pink blush warms his nose and cheeks – which would be gone in a few days, only to be replaced by a gorgeous dark almond color. Dieter Bravo could naturally tan so perfectly it was honestly heart-breaking. 

“She’s out?” 

“She’s out.” He nods with a sigh. He scratches the back of his head and snags his phone off the bedside table. When he sits down on the edge of the bed, you see the tag of his shirt over the lip of his collar. You muffle your grin and quietly finish with the towels. “The guy who came up with the lyrics ‘Baby Shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo’ is either a genius or a madman. Two rounds of that and she’s basically comatose.”

“How do you know it was a man?” You arch your eyebrow at him. 

Dieter lifts his head from his phone and smirks at you. He reaches for you and you let him tug you between his legs. He kisses your wrist, your hands curled around his broad shoulders. “That was incredibly sexist of me, darling, can you ever forgive me?”

Dropping his head, he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your stomach, his eyes flicking up to you at the last second, the bottom half of his face hidden. The sight, one you haven’t seen in recent months but one you craved like a drizzle of honey over a bowl of fruit, loosens the tension in your back and liquifies your underwear. 

“Dieter?”

“Yes, O Love of My Life?”

“Your shirt is inside out.”

The sultry look in his eyes immediately flickers out and he huffs a laugh, shaking his head and pressing his face into your neck.

“What would I do without you? Can you help me fix that?” 

“Mhm hm.”

His back arched, you roll the faintly damp shirt up his spine, careful to take in the notches visible through his skin. You watch in delight as more of that broad back is revealed, more golden skin and freckles. The rim of the collar catches the back of his head so when you finally tug it off him, his hair is scattered in a dozen different directions. It takes nearly all of your willpower not to moan at the site. 

“Or . . .” you make a deliberate show of dropping the shirt and Dieter goes honey-eyed again. 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head up, wraps his massive hands around the back of your thighs, squeezing you above the backs of your knees, then higher up, his fingers pressing into your inner thigh muscles, and finally resting on your ass. 

You nod and gently push him back. He goes without being told twice. “I want to thank you for taking Zelle to let me work today.”

His eyes go wide, his elbows locked with his arms set apart behind him, when you go onto your knees in front of him.

“B-baby, your back –,”

“Then give me a pillow, Dieter.” 

He nearly launches himself back to snag a pillow by the headboard. 

“My back is one thing, but I’m more worried about the knot of your trunks.”

Dieter busies himself with the drawstring of his shorts, his movements frantic, giving you a chance to muffle a grunt as you ease the pillow underneath your knees. He’s right, of course, but fuck if you couldn’t get those goddamn bills done, the least you could blow your husband until he popped off in your mouth. 

“Love, you really don’t have to do this.” You glance up at him and despite the evident tent in his swim trunks, his wide eager eyes, he will do everything in his power to make these last few weeks even somewhat bearable. 

With a smile, you lean forward and squeeze his knees. “I know. And honestly, I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I wanna try. Is that okay?”

An awe-struck grin splits his lips apart and he laughs, a high-pitched sound and breathless. “How long you’re gonna last? Been half-hard all day since you put on those leggings this morning.”

“Well, you were so good with Zelle today, talking to her about feelings, it made me kinda hot and bothered so I feel especially grateful.”

You lean forward, fingers plucking at the damp strings and out of the corner of your eye you see his knuckles go white against the sheets. You tug and he helps you by lifting his hips.

“S-so that’s what that look w-was.” He swallows roughly as you take him in your hand, stroking him gently at first. He squeezes his eyes shut – god, could you really make him come with just a few touches? “I’m j-just – fuck – doing my part.” 

You kiss along his length and his shoulders lock up as his breathing quickens. You suck the spit in your mouth before dropping a string of drool right on the head and Dieter’s groan elongates, the muscles of his neck tense. 

“Well, Mommy likes it when Daddy does a good job.”

Tongue out and jaw loose, you swallow him down nearly to the base. Maybe you’re biased because you married the himbo attached to it, but Dieter’s cock is one of the – if not the – very best cocks you’ve ever seen in your life. Thick without being overwhelmingly long and always oozing precum the instant you breathe on it. A slick vein that has him whimpering with a single lick. 

“Fuck, Mama, you’re so fucking good at this.” Dieter’s hand floats to the crown of your head, his nails scratching your scalp, the weight of his palm soothing as it follows the motions of your head. With every little sigh he makes, your pussy squeezes with every bob of your head. Dieter’s sensitivity has always been a near drug for you, a chemical reaction that floods your brain, branding those noises on the lining of your skull as he drips down the back of your throat. You meet his hot gaze just as you drag your mouth up and nearly off him, only to kitten-lick the lip of his head and he clamps his eyes shut, shuddering.

When you hear his heel kick the ground beside you, his chest heaving and chin tilted up, you drop your mouth down to his base – years of taking him training you to smother your gag-reflex – and with hollowed cheeks, suck him all the way up to the tip. His wiry curls smell like chlorine and musk. 

Dieter jerks, his hand flying to your shoulder as if to pry you off him. 

“Mhmm – baby, p-please – shit,” he swallows and you pop off him, his cock red and shiny from your spit. Dieter is panting, soft center fluttering, flush high in his throat. Your underwear sticks to you as you realize he very nearly came in your mouth without warning. Call it being a masochist but you loved making him come before either of you realized what was happening. 

“Get off your fucking knees and come here –,” he yanks you into his naked lap and you go, giggling as he palms your ass and kissing you so hard you tilt back. He bites your bottom lip and you keen. “Can’t believe I let my pregnant wife fucking suck me off like that when she knows I worship that little pussy.” 

He cups you through your leggings and the dampness soaking through the fabric sends a moan through both of you. Dieter’s jaw goes lax as he rubs his thick fingers across your folds, the material catching and dragging, and you whimper – and not in a way he knows means a good thing. His gaze floods with worry and you shake your head – the instant the doctor gives the go-ahead you’re gonna have him rail you through a bedpost – “It’s okay. I’m just sore, baby. Last night –,”

He tsks, frowning. “I told you I was being too rough.”

“I asked for it. Also, so not the time for an ‘I told you so’. Help me stand up.” 

With his hands on your hips, he eases you off of his lap and onto your feet. You lift up your exasperatedly large shirt, the hemline of which has been steadily shrinking as you grow, and clip off your bra. Dieter stares, mouth open, as you slip your leggings and your sticky underwear off your round hips and to the floor. With your second baby, you’d managed to quell the looming anxiety about your body changing but with a boy, you just feel ten times your normal size, bigger than you did with Zelle. Your heart hitches in your chest as Dieter’s eyes roam from your shoulders to your swollen tits, your belly, your thighs, and you’d be happy if he just thought you were – 

“Gorgeous, baby, just fucking gorgeous.” He stands and kisses you without another word, his thumbs on your jaw tilting your mouth into his. He palms your breast, hard and weighed with milk. He approaches you with a level of sensuality that makes your eyes roll back in your head and your knees shake. How can he touch you like that when you’re already filled to the brim?

“How do you need it, baby?”

The tension that had been locking down the muscles in your back, your hips, since you woke up this morning, only heightened over those stupid fucking bills and feeling incredibly sorry for yourself, cracks at his words. Without your hands on his chest and his big hands cradling your jaw, you’re sure you would have melted to the floor. You lick your bottom lip, eyes scrunched tightly to clear the sudden tightness behind them. 

“On my side, but between my thighs?” 

His eyes are all heat, all dark wanting, but he hits you in the knees with one of his crooked grins. “Yeah, you’re gonna let Daddy fuck your thighs?” Total reverence, filth that has your toes curling coming as easy to him as it is to breathe. 

“Please.” 

He stands back at a distance, watching with half-set eyes as you climb into bed and peel back the covers. As you settle, Dieter flicks off the overhead light, and then the lamp by your bedside. His body lined in dark shadows and the cool touch of the moonlight, you track him as he rounds the bed, sliding in behind you in bed, the covers up to his shoulders. There’s a breath of silence, of anticipation, of a yearning so deep your skin flushes with goosebumps at his proximity. You know he’s there, you watched him dip on the other side of the bed, but a spark of panic tightens your lungs, you want to reach back for him, your baby unmoored as you are, trembling and desperate for the calming touch of the father –

He kisses you over your shoulder, broad, warm hand starting at your hip, then scooping down around your naked bottom to settle on your belly and from where his hand sits, you radiate with heat. Melting and growing sticky like tree sap, you drip for him, slick smearing across your thighs with no material to soak you up. His mouth is warm, the short hairs of his mustache numbing your upper lip, the taste of the red wine from dinner light against the back of his tongue. 

When he cups you again, finds the sticky sap gathered in your curls and leaking onto your thighs, he breaks the kiss with a grunt and presses his teeth into your shoulder, his cock fully present against your back. You nip his bottom lip with your thumbnail, pleased beyond words at his reaction.

“I love you.” 

That’s not what you thought he was going to say. He lifts his furrowed brow, eyes dark but struck with such earnestness, you feel your heartbeat in your ears. He sucks the mark his teeth made on your shoulder, his hips hitching closer, turning his weight over you, before dropping closer to kiss you again.

“How did I get so fucking lucky with you, hm?” He asks of no one. Delicately, he guides your knee back over his hip, his breath warm across the curve of your shoulder, his other hand pressing gently on the back of your neck. He would never, ever choke you in this state, but fuck you missed it. You missed it when Dieter loses himself entirely in you. 

The head of his cock taps the wet triangle of your thighs and you fist the pillow beneath your head. He shuffles closer and you can feel his chest trembling with restraint. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says in one breath. You know if you look over your shoulder, he’s fixated on watching you take his cock. Oddly enough, his ADHD always seemed to clear out during sex. “Do– do you need my fingers – a-a toy to prep you, ‘cause I can–,”

“Dieter, please.”

He exhales and, with a slow thrust that smears your arousal all over his spit-licked cock, you finally feel relief. The noise that leaves your throat is unrecognizable. That ruddy tip kisses your clit and the moan that tears out of you is nearly a scream. 

A wide palm claps over your mouth, a breathy giggle falling down your back. 

“Baby,” low, strained, barely audible over the sounds of your slickness sucking your thighs together around Dieter’s cock. “If you wake up that child before I’m balls deep in you, I will never forgive you.”

Using his hand as leverage, he pulls you back against him, pressing himself even further between your soaked lips, prodding your clit so gently it sends sparks up your spine and you come, a small wave, that somehow has you leaking more onto his cock. 

“Ah – oh my god – did you just –?” 

You whine and wrap your hand up into his hair, and finally he’s skin to skin up your back. His hips jolt you forward, the hard smack loud and sloppy in the mess between your thighs. Dieter leans over you and nips at your earlobe, his thrusts faster now, each one catching your clit with just enough time apart to send you ratcheting higher. 

“That’s so good, Dieter, you’re doing so good –,”

A sharp intake of breath, high through a vocal shudder, and he drops down onto his shoulder against the pillow, looping his arm around your chest, a wide palm cupping your sensitive breast. Skin to skin, he is a wall of heat behind you, his hands both steadying you and begging you for more against your hip. It’s moments like these, when he’s swallowing up every sense you’re still in control of, that you really believe your soul lives in two bodies. 

He tucks his lips near your ear and your skin tingles. “Can I touch your clit, or does that hurt?”

“Just put your hand –,”

You take him by the wrist from the curve of your waist, where he grips you tight, fingers pocketing your flesh, and slide him down between your legs. 

“That’s it, baby, take what you need.” 

Between the consistent bouncing of his cock between your pussy lips and the heat of his four fingers, stocky and thick, you have nowhere to go but up, your own hips thrust back aimlessly, bliss hurling towards you, until it breaks – and you whine, squeeze Dieter’s hand so hard, you think you hear a bone pop.

Wetness floods your thighs and, half a dozen strokes later, Dieter spills with a groan, white cream splattering against the low curve of your belly and onto the sheets. Covered in literal spend, exhaustion soaks your bones, gasping for air and never finding enough. You lie together, your bodies buzzing, blood roaring loud beneath your skin, until Dieter tilts his weight off you – you didn’t even realize he had nearly smothered you – and his cock slides out from between your numb legs, his grip loosening from your breast and his hand flopping down into the sheets. His skin is pink from exertion.

You grin and roll over as gracefully as you can, out of breath and the size of a house. 

“An unexpected bonus,” you sigh, ringing your belly button with your finger, “I think we rocked him to sleep.” 

Dieter huffs a laugh as he pushes a handful of damp curls off his sweaty forehead and his other arm curls around your shoulders. He rests his other palm over your fingers on your belly.

“Glad I could tire all three of us out.” You giggle into his shoulder. Both of you are sticky hot, sweltering in a fog of your own mess, and you can feel sleep tugging at the corners of your eyes. Humming, you curl up closer to him, your knee over his hip, tucking your nose into his neck as his fingers absently play with strands of your hair. 

“I meant what I said, you know that right?”

Your body as supple as warm wax, eyes melting shut, you nod vaguely. “Mhmm hmm.” 

“I love you, baby. Thank you, for everything.”

You return the sentiment, the words dribbling out of your mouth as sleep overwhelms you.

Later, when you wake up in the early blue hours of the morning, rain pattering against the glass, and you feel something cool and soft against your belly, you stir, reaching for him.

“Hush, baby, stay still for me.” He hums somewhere above you. You nod, on the precipice of sleep again. “You gave me the world, I’m just returning the favor.”

Later still, when you awake to a soggy light, Dieter and Zelle down the hall excitedly picking out which movies to watch on this designated Stay on the Couch day, you roll onto your back and realize he’s painted a globe onto your stomach. 

A foot inside you presses up against Chile and you grin into space, content beyond your wildest dreams. 

+

#dieter bravo #daddy dieter #gonna make this an official tag if its the last thing i do #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble fanfic #the bubble

[steddielations]

Flight of Icarus Character List

Lore Part 1 | Part 2

- Eddie Munson: Our boy is 18 years old, lives alone in his dad's house with Wayne checking in on him. By 1984, he's the lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin and the DM for Hellfire. He's known as Freak King at school, and Munson Junior around town, he hates both. His grades are bad, but the only trouble he gets in at school is getting blamed for fights with jocks that he doesn't start or win. He works as a barback at the Hideout where his band plays sometimes. His status as town pariah due to his dad's criminal reputation and being an outcast deeply affects him. He wants nothing more than to escape that image, even if he's trading it for a different image. The story kicks off when he gets a chance to chase a record deal in California and teams up with his dad to get the money to move.

- Al Munson: Eddie’s dad, he comes in and out of Eddie's life. He's been abandoning Eddie alone/with Wayne for long stretches since Eddie was a child. Al's very charismatic and has even made Jim Hopper laugh. He uses that "Munson Magic" to manipulate everyone around him, he's a conman and career criminal. He taught Eddie guitar, but also taught Eddie to jack cars at age 10 and only sees Eddie as his little minion. He comes back to town, claiming he's fresh out of a prison stint in Colorado with a debt he needs to repay, and enlists Eddie into helping him rob a truck carrying drugs from his former boss. He leaves details out of the story that blow up in their faces. In the end, he leaves again when Eddie needs him most.

- Wayne Munson: Eddie’s uncle, factory job guy and the best caregiver as we all predicted. Wayne’s a quiet guy, very emotionally reserved too. Eddie says he’s never even heard Wayne yell, he’s non-confrontational. He doesn’t like Al, says nothing even when Al tries to instigate an argument. He deeply cares for Eddie. Eddie is very stubbornly independent, so used to being on his own because of Al, and Wayne tries to respect his boundaries while also being concerned, as Eddie gets very prickly about it. He tries his best to keep Eddie from getting roped in with Al, but overall he lets Eddie make his own decisions. He seems like he wants to just bundle Eddie in a hug at times, but they're not to that point yet in the book. In the end, Al's scheme gets their house burned down, so Wayne permanently takes Eddie in. He shapes Eddie by telling him he’s not his dad and to stop caring what people think and not to put himself in a box. Some nice tidbits: Wayne has a green thumb, reads Gardener’s Weekly magazine and goes to a bar called the Attic on Fridays.

- Ronnie Ecker: Eddie’s childhood best friend. She lives with her grandma in the trailer park. Her father passed away and her mother is implied mentally unstable. She meets Eddie when they’re 8. She’s described as tall, taller than Eddie since they were kids, always wearing a corduroy hat, and people mistake them for siblings. She’s the first drummer of cc. Ronnie and Eddie formed the band specifically because they had to do the middle school talent show. Then Gareth becomes the drummer when she graduates. She’s also in Hellfire, wants to go to law school and has a full ride scholarship to NYU. She’s sort of implied aro/ace after Eddie tries to kiss her when they’re 13, she says it’s not just Eddie, she doesn’t think she’ll ever have a crush on anyone. Ronnie is perceptive and smart and she teases Eddie a lot but they’re very protective of each other. Eddie gets blackmailed by Principal Higgins into dropping out when he threatens to jeopardize Ronnie's scholarship. Eddie never tells Ronnie this, even when they have a fight about him choosing to end Hellfire because Higgins convinced him his friends would be better off. This causes them to leave off on vague terms when she goes to NYU.

- Dougie Teague: This could possibly be unnamed freak from the show, but there’s an age discrepancy because he’s the same age as Ronnie and Eddie in the books and it says he graduates. So he would have to fail senior year twice along with Eddie to still be in high school in the show as unnamed freak. Dougie is the backup cc guitar player, whereas unnamed freak played bass in the show. Dougie is brash and blurts things out. He lives where Eddie calls the nice side of town and they rehearse in his garage. Dougie’s mom is not fond of Eddie but lets them practice there. Dougie’s dad is an HVAC truck guy.

- Jeff (no last name): Jeff is a sophomore and the bass player for CC, whereas in the show he plays guitar. Jeff comes across as reserved compared to Eddie and Ronnie. He played D&D with his older brothers before joining Hellfire. Eddie says Jeff knows more about bass than him. Jeff is ‘the nice one’ and generally nervous and anxious. He’s reasonable but he looks up to Eddie and buys into what Eddie says about the band getting a deal even if it’s unrealistic. Jeff is awkward around girls, wants to do good in school and he’s afraid of getting in trouble. The owner of the Hideout bar lets the band split a beer and Jeff is nervous the whole time. Also, when Eddie screws up, Jeff is the first to forgive him.

- Gareth (no last name): Gareth takes on the role of Eddie’s first sheep, whereas everyone else are Eddie’s friends, Gareth is like the little kid he’s fond of. Gareth is a freshman, there’s a whole scene of Eddie helping him create a D&D character. He’s hotheaded and a target for bullies. Eddie sticks up for him a couple times, and once, Gareth barrels in shrieking and throwing windmill punches to stop Eddie from getting jumped by Tommy H and crew, which results in Gareth going to the hospital with a fractured wrist.

- Rick Lipton (Reefer Rick): Rick is a very typical laid back stoner character. He's around 35, described as a giant soft guy with big smiling eyes and friendly face, wearing a Smokey the Bear shirt, and not what Eddie expected from a drug dealer. His house is also not what Eddie expected, being pretty clean compared to Eddie's teenage inhabited space. Eddie meets Rick through his dad, who has screwed Rick over in the past and this makes Rick unwilling to be the buyer of what they're going to steal off the drug truck. Eddie however puts on his best "Munson Magic" and convinces Rick. Rick is impressed and calls him Munson Junior, which Eddie hates. He goes back to Rick at the end of the book, needing money and a job. Rick gets him started dealing.

- Elizabeth Munson (maiden name Franklin): Eddie’s mom, he's a certified mama's boy. She doesn't appear in the book, Eddie says she got sick and passed away when he was around 6. She's originally from Memphis, Tennessee, where she met Al and they moved to Hawkins when she was 19, they got married March 12th, 1966. She loved Eddie's dad but Eddie says Al was always leaving her to go off on schemes. She passed her love of music onto Eddie. Her favorite was Chicago blues, Eddie didn't understand why until she passed and he started to feel it in his bones too. Eddie remembers dancing with her to Muddy Waters' "Rollin' Stone" and when the song comes on in the truck while he's doing business with Al, it makes him tear up. He recalls this memory several times, it seems like it’s his happiest memory. He says "When Elizabeth Munson was happy, the whole entire world was happy." His biggest connection to his mom was through her music. Then when Al's scheme goes wrong, the people he screwed over show up and burn down their house in an act of revenge. Eddie almost gets killed trying to save his mom's records, but they burn.

- Paige Warner: Paige is a junior scout at WR Music. She's not described beyond having freckles, chin-length dark hair and dark eyes. She has a younger brother on the Hawkins baseball team. At the Hideout, she sees Eddie's band playing and he chalks up the courage to talk to her. (He's squeaky and blushy, no game) Paige is in town for her grandmother's funeral, she remembers Eddie from the middle school talent show, though she is two years older. She likes his band because they're "real". She returns another night and Eddie (after some bad news that makes him desperate to chase his future) propositions her to get them a record deal. She's insulted, having told Eddie that guys use her for that reason, but they agree to work together. Paige pays for the studio time for cc to record the demo tape. In the meantime, Paige meets Al and Eddie is beside himself the entire time, not wanting her to find out the dirty work they're doing to fund his future. Then, Paige's boss only likes Eddie, and when she delivers this news, Eddie expresses that he doesn't want to ditch his band, but she says this will benefit both of them. So he agrees and it's implied they start hooking up, never making things official. She leaves for California and he's supposed to go later for his audition and stay with her. This doesn't happen, Eddie's heist with Al lands him temporarily in jail, and over a heated phone call, things end between them. It's implied that Paige pays his bail but never speaks to him again.

- Tommy Hayes: It's debatable whether this is supposed to be Tommy H from the show, whether his last name was always Hagan or if that was a fanon thing. Given his proximity to the jocks and being bitter that Steve has changed since dating Nancy, it's supposed to be Tommy H from the show. He's extremely violent in the book, which doesn't track so much with Tommy in the show, who's more of a shit-talker lackey. This Tommy bullies Eddie for being poor, a freak, and the son of a criminal. He bullies the whole Hellfire club and beats Eddie up on two occasions, punches Ronnie (accidentally?) when she tries to protect Gareth, and puts Gareth in the hospital. He faces no repercussions because the Principal is on his side, as Tommy's family is influential and rich.

- Principal Higgins: The principal of Hawkins High. Eddie is justified for wanting to flip him off in the show. Higgins has a ton of favoritism toward the kids from well off influential families, like jocks and preppy students, and always takes their side even when Eddie (and friends) are the ones bruised and beaten. He's a Bible thumper and hates Hellfire and also hates Eddie because he's a Munson, considers him a rotten apple that poisons the bunch. He wants Eddie to drop out to rid the school of the Hellfire club. After the brawl between the jocks and Hellfire, Higgins convinces Eddie that it's his fault his friends are considered freaks and get bullied. He blackmails Eddie into dropping out by threatening to jeopardize Ronnie's scholarship to NYU. Eddie eventually comes to his senses and finds his fire again when everything falls through. He gets re-enrolled in school and turns things around by blackmailing Higgins. At this point, he knows Higgins buys drugs from Reefer Rick, and uses that information to force Higgins to let Hellfire continue and leave him and his friends alone.

- Officer Moore: A Hawkins cop who has it out for Eddie. He's described as having a blond buzz cut, a square jaw, Superman level All-American looks. He has a growing mid-forties beer gut. He pulls Eddie and Ronnie over in Eddie's van, Eddie sasses the shit out of him since apparently he pulls Eddie over a lot trying to find reasons to arrest him, just because he's a Munson. But he has to let them go.

- CJ and Toby: These are two goons that worked with Al under the same boss, Charlie Greene, one of the biggest drug kingpins in Oregon. They are transporting the truck with the drugs that Al enlists Eddie to help him rob. Eddie and Al successfully rob the truck, but CJ and Toby show up to their house days later. While holding Eddie and Al at gunpoint looking for the drugs, It's revealed that Al didn't owe money because he borrowed it, he stole it because he got greedy. Eddie was under the impression that he was saving his dad from enforcers that would come to collect the debt eventually, not helping him steal more from them. Al wasn't in prison like he told Eddie, he was living large as Charlie Greene's right hand man, never sending Eddie a dime. At this point, Eddie and Al have already sold the stolen drugs to Reefer Rick, so Al turns over the 15 grand of money to CJ and Toby. They think it's settled, but CJ decides to set the house on fire too, since Al embarrassed them with the boss. The only reason they don't kill Eddie and Al is because Officer Moore shows up, having been following Eddie. Instead, CJ shoots Officer Moore in the leg and then he and Toby flee. Eddie immediately goes to help the officer (despite hating Moore) while Al is telling Eddie to come on so they can run. Eddie feels like its their fault Moore was shot and won't leave him, Al says he didn't realize Eddie was this much of a fool. Eddie tries to get him to stay because he needs him, but Al leaves him anyway and Eddie is devastated and numb. He's arrested when cops show up.

- Jim Hopper: Hopper brings Eddie a cup of water and talks to him while he's in lockup for the night. He calls Eddie "Junior" but Eddie's too numb at that point to care. He says they know that Eddie tried to help Moore, but he's being held for arson because of the house, until he makes bail. Hopper is really trying to give Eddie a break, knowing he helped Moore, and talks a bit about Eddie's dad. He says something cryptic about knowing Al in school and how every time something went down, Al was usually at the center. Hopper does Eddie a favor and lets him use the phone in his office, where Eddie calls Paige. Hours later, Hopper tells him he made bail and that Wayne is there to get him.

- Chrissy Cunningham: Eddie remembers Chrissy from the talent show. Eddie's dad was supposed to be there, but didn't show up, meanwhile Chrissy is disappointed that her mom did show up. A lot like the show, it's minimal but Chrissy is sweet with troubled undertones. Eddie's surprised she even talks to him, but she's nice and says she'd cheer for him if his dad didn't show. Fast forward to high school, when the jocks are giving Eddie flack, Chrissy tries to get them to stop. Then they try to lie to the principal and say Eddie was bothering Chrissy. Chrissy says it's a lie but Jason quickly silences her.

- Bev: The owner of the Hideout bar. She's a very no nonsense drill sergeant kind of lady. She keeps Eddie humble, calls him Junior despite him asking her not to, always tells him to get a haircut and doesn't like his band at all, though she lets them play there as part of the exchange for Eddie working there. The stage is just some rickety wood that her late husband built. It's implied she had something to do with his death. She's strict and doesn't give anything out for free, only Al is able to charm her out of a free pitcher of beer when he's celebrating Eddie (temporarily) dropping out of school, which stuns Eddie. When Eddie quits the job chasing his California dream, she admits she'll miss their band and that's that.

- Janice: Principal Higgins secretary who equally hates Eddie and favors jocks and preppy students. She wears coke bottle glasses that magnify her eyes and has a fanatical obsession with purple.

- Stan: A junior member of Hellfire who had to sneak around his parents to go to meetings by pretending to be at algebra tutoring, as they consider D&D to be Satanic. When his parents find out, they write a letter to the school, condemning Hellfire club and saying they sent Stan to a church program to cleanse him. Higgins shows Eddie this letter to make him feel guilty and responsible.

-Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan: These girlies are mentioned in one sentence but I don't know where else to put this info. Eddie implies these are the two other hookups he had before Paige, once in grade ten and once senior year, saying that he could tell they were only doing it for the dare of getting with the freak. Though, he wasn't looking to be anybody's boyfriend. He compares them to Paige, who he feels like genuinely likes him

- Steve Harrington: He doesn't actually appear in the book but his balls get a mention so he's going on the list. The only thing to note is that Steve doesn't approve of any freshman getting beat up, to the point where the jocks do it behind his back and Jason Carver is worried about him finding out. Tommy says Steve doesn't have any balls since dating Nancy Wheeler. Eddie defends Steve's balls, saying Tommy can't talk about someone else having no balls when he gets his kicks beating up freshman.

- Will and Jonathan Byers: At the end of the book, in a record shop, Will and Jonathan walk in. Eddie recognizes Will from his missing posters and recalls the events where Will had a funeral yet somehow was found alive. Jonathan goes to the back for a certain record, and while Will is alone, Eddie watches as a few younger jocks come into the store and start hounding him, calling him zombie boy. Eddie takes up for him, goads the jocks and gets them to take it out on him, takes a baseball to the chest and they leave. Eddie tells Will that Zombie Boy is metal as shit and Jonathan thanks Eddie when he comes back. Eddie offers Jonathan weed and says Jonathan is way too offended by the question for someone with his haircut. This whole interaction solidifies Eddie's new sense of purpose, collecting and protecting sheep.

- Granny Ecker: Ronnie's grandmother. She's not a big part of the story at all but she lives in the trailer park too. She's a wooden spoon wielding grandma character. Eddie calls her Granny too and she worries about Wayne and makes Eddie bring him casseroles and stuff. it's just cute so I'm including it.

#characters and their parts in the story technically #i tried to make this where reading to the end gives you all the plot too #eddie munson #flight of icarus #steddie #< for the one steve mention hehe #steve harrington #stranger things #wayne munson #al munson #will byers #jonathan byers #jim hopper #ronnie ecker #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #mp