#my body is so broken Jesus Christ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ourautumn86 · 10 months

Text

sick love

perv! ellie williams x fem! reader

pt2

synopsis; you catch your best friend ellie touching herself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns her on even more. if only you knew she had been dreaming about this moment for her entire fucking life and that she has even planned for it to happen…

cw; really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom ellie for the first part but dominant on the end, p in v sex, cum eating, masturbation (ellie), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

‘Use me. Use me...’

Ellie was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really pervert way. Her sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and her, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you’d invited Ellie for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. She found herself staring for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, her eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? She didn’t even remember how her panties had gotten that fucking soaked nor how her hand had ended inside her pants, palm slick in precum as her fingers thrusted inside her slick cunt, bottom lip in between her teeth and soft moans and groans scaping her lips. But she didn’t care. She came so hard that night that she swore she saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, she of course felt awkward and embarrassed of herself around you. Masturbating to her sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when she found herself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

She relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against her neck, your tits fully pressed to her chest and whimpers making her pussy drool, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for her to stop as she beat the shit out of them.

She liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of her, she wouldn’t have it. She sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so she always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to herself. Like it had to be. You were hers, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” her shrugging even when she knew that she was, in fact, the thug. Then, she’d go back to her house and open the last drawer of her desk — which she had under key— and take the same chapstick out of her pocket to push it inside along with the other things she had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

She loved them. She almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… She loved the ones that she stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch she would push against her nose and lick as she fucked herself. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove her crazy.

Another thing Ellie loved to do was take photos of you. She had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. She loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But she also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for her. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. She even had one of you resting asleep on her lap, lips parted and against her clothed cunt. She saved some of them on her wallet in case she ever had to take care of herself when she hung out with you.

She was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to her porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to her cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of her infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case she ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if she ever felt lonely in her empty house. At first, before her infatuation appeared, she would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for her to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now she snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. She had licked her cum out of your fingers when she had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in her moans and whimpers. Other nights, she would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push her head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as her hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish her head.

She loved it when you played with her hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when she’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at her for using your good conditioner after a pool day. She was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, smelling you on her skin to fuck herself while she showered in your house.

She would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in her mouth. You’d always whine about it, but she never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving her full access to it when you were full.

Ellie considered herself to be a woman with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. She would love to fuck you to her liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call her daddy. She thought of herself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of her numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked her and fucked her, using her like you’d use a fucking toy. She had woken up with a raging orgasm as from her lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was she a pervert? Absolutely. Would she ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

She’d prefer to die with this feelings than ever telling you she loved you. She was just terrified of the thought of you pushing her away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what she thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at her for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that she always bought you, she would come to her house and enter her room with slick coating her thighs. She would pull out of the back of her closet her pussy-shaped toy and her strap and spray one of her pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend her other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for her cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what she’d do, fuck her stupid little toy with her face fully buried on the perfumed one as she imagined you under her, ass up and chest pushed against her bedsheets. Her pace was needy, harsh and deep, the back of the strap bumping against her clit and from her mouth dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making herself cum over and over again when she couldn’t found herself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what she fucked in between whimpers.

She sometimes would leave her house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching her red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there she was, and so were you.

That day she had come with a really painful ache in between her thighs. You’d been sitting on her lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that she had found herself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your friends, laughing with them and jumping on her lap when the jokes were too good. Well, she was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found her hair and slowly massaged her scalp, every now and then pulling at her hair when you played with her locks, her hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from hers— thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using her. The fact that she felt used by you and only you, was what had her gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Ellie was a good girl, so she just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of her mouth. She felt like breathing once again when you got up from her lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when she no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against her.

“Fuck, y/n…” she whimpered when she plopped on her bed, her palm pushing hardly against her pulsing and aching cunt, precum staining her jeans and underwear. She had pulled out from her closet her fleshlight and strap, since she felt that her hand would not be enough today. She had to fuck herself. “Please, fuck me, please…” she was a babbling mess when the tip pushed inside the lubed toy and her clit rubbed against the strap. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” she found himself whimpering at her mind scenario, in which you would ride her relentlessly, her dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over her cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” she was a babbling mess, her hips rutting upwards against her hand movements to fuck her cock deeper in the toy.

“Els!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened her unlocked front door. Ellie always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film she had been dying to watch for months and for which she had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to the town’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly she wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from her. “Ellie?” you called out again, the soft sound of her voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving her a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching her room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was she with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Ellie fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked her for years on end, since the first time that she held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But she never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, in the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that she had to be just what she was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached her slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was she fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out she was not fucking anyone but herself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as her hips fucked upwards, inside her pussy-shaped flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from her lips new groans and moans fell. Ellie was fucking touching herself, desperately rubbing her cunt against the strap, slick on her thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

She looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as her head fell back against her pillow, hair messy all over it. Her hand was slow, pushing the toy down on her cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see just how long and thick it was, her thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” her voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Ellie was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because she had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Ellie’s movements stopped, her gaze moving to her opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

She quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under her breath when she sat up, a pillow hiding the strap, clit throbbing at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” she didn’t even know what to say. You had caught her, caught her fucking herself with her goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught her moaning your name. She felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught her… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at her while she pleasured herself. She had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” she cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and hole twitching under the pillow, leaking against her thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making her head snap back to you, a frown on her face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to her bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to her lap when she pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that you would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as you fuck yourself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” she stuttered as she shook her head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping her chin so her eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” she moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and she whimpered, your pussy clenching when she shook her head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against hers, teasing her to get out of her what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled her hair when she tried to kiss you, making her groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” she pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on her lap.

“Only good girls get a kiss, Els.”

“I’m a good girl…” she was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” she nodded, her tongue dampening her lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered her almost naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” she shivered when your lips latched to her neck, your tongue pressing against her skin in open mouth kisses that led to her ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” she moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as she nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as she pushed the pillow off her lap, pussy twitching and thighs soaked in slick.

In the state she was… She would do anything for you. She would even fuck herself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

She moaned when you sat down on her desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. Her hands were shaking when her fingers gripped around the clear silicone or her toy, whimpering when she noticed your eyes on her strap.

It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew she could give it to you, that she would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on the shaft with your tongue and take it so deep on your throat you’d whimper at the pain of your jaw. “Aw, poor Ellie…” you cooed at her. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” she nodded, tears on her eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Els?” she moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to her reaction. She liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing her cum making her go crazy. She whined when and tortured her bottom lip with her teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for her to see. “Fuck…” she cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

Her pussy was drooling like crazy with every new and fast thrust of her hips, pleads falling off her lips with every brush against her clit. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when she nodded, chuckling at her behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” she whimpered when you had made your way back to her side, standing in front of her and making her head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on her hair, making her hips stutter and breathy whines rip her throat. “Hold it. I haven’t told you to cum yet.” she cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and she had to squeeze the toy and stop her movements to not come when you pushed your damped panties into her mouth, slicked crotch flat against her tongue. Her muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, her eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when she could take a taste on just how sweet you were. She choked on the lace when you startled her legs. Her eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for her to see, thin strips of slick connected them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of her neck to suck a hard hickey on her flesh as you pushed aside her strap, exposing her swollen and reddish soaked pussy.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, her hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to push you down on her and cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when her white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, her mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on hers. You hummed as you stroked her hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across her chest. She was still fucking horny. “Good girl…” you cooed, placing the strap back on top of her cunt, loving just how fucked out she seemed. She moaned when you sat on her cock, its length in between your wet folds and the tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” she cried out with your panties on her mouth when you rocked your hips against hers. That’s all it took for her to cum for a second time, right after her first orgasm. You were gonna fuck her, shit, you were gonna fuck her cock…

You moaned, feeling her nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy against the silicone due to the amount of slick that coated it. “You came again, baby?” she nodded, moaning due to your humping, overstimulating her clit. “Fuck, Els…” you pulled your panties away from her mouth, wanting to hear her groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.” you were fucking soaked for her.

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from her lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled her bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when she leaned in, pupils blown and need on her green thin irises. She looked high. And she was, high on her favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when she had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, her hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, her hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on her hair as she played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering her lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which she quickly discarded away on her bedroom floor. She pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on her pillow —the same she had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. She moaned, pussy aching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for her.

She didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which she took her time with, and of course she would, she had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on her hair. “Ellie…” you whined when she bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. She was so drunk on your skin… She could spend her whole life kissing it that she would never get fucking tired of it. But her teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed her mouth on it now. And she seemed to get it when you pushed her further against it, her hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above her shoulders as she sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, her due to just how much she had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which she had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with her mouth in mind. Her name falling off your lips on a whimper had her hips rocking against the duvet as she ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when her fingers found their way to your entrance that she started to eat you just like you needed and she always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming her name when her fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as her tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about her mouth. Ellie knew how to use it, really well. So well that she had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. She was like a starved woman, burying her face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in her tongue. “Fuck, Els, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on her hair. She knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Ellie crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

She moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when her tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Ellie drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled her bedroom.

You mewled when once you’d come down from your high, her tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on her wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called for her. She whimpered when you tugged on her hair, pulling her away from your pussy as you sat up. She looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” she begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on her mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to her strap, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where she had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took it in your hand, making her bite down on her lips.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Els.” you said, your other hand coming to her cheek to rub the flush on her skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” her hole twitched to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped her face left her to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for her to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” her eyes rolled to the back of her head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Ellie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” she was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off her lips as she leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” she found herself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering her the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had her reeling. If only she could really cum inside, she’d make sure to do it over and over again until your belly would swell.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against her lips, her nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with her own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave her a sweet smile when she moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of her mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Els.” she was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive her there, hands on her neck when she leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which she didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in her mouth, making her groan. Fuck, she could come just with that. With your tongue in her mouth, your body against her and the thought that you were only letting her fuck you to seek your own release. She moaned on your open mouth when you took her dick to align it with your entrance. You needed her, and you needed her now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Ellie, please, please…” you whimpered, and she didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as she bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit.” she was struggling to move at how hard your walls were swallowing her. Your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving her full access to your neck, which she kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. She was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. Her stretch had you delirious, her tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of her back, making her groan. The two of you were taking your time, her letting you get used to the feeling of her heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. She groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against her. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl for me and let me use your cock, alright?” she whimpered at your words, and in less than one second she had you gripping to her back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Ellie, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

She was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. Her hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on her cock, just as desperate as her. She was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” she was a mess. Both of you were. Her thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in her. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrusts, making your nails dig up on her back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Ellie, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on her ear, making her fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” she begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over her dick as she fucked you dumb, her hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was her name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” her thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before she finally came. She was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting the back of her strap and her thighs.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness as she had stilled up to the base inside of your swollen and used cunt. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Ellie!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against her pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when she pulled you up from your ass, her cock ramming inside of your soaked pussy. You cried out when her hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in her voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how her mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Ellie had you cumming so hard on her cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around her dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

a/n; I NEEDED TO OKAY? I NEEDED TO MAKE A SICK LOVE ELLIE VERSION SORRY!! 🩵

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 4 months

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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.

AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”

Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”

You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.

“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”

You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.

“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”

He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.

So fucking beautiful.

“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”

Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"

It's all I want. You think.

"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.

You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."

That's all I want. He thinks.

Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"

He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.

and it'll crush him.

The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."

"So?" He asks.

"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."

It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’

The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.

So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.

Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.

"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.

Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.

You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."

“Stop that.” He seethed.

It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.

Never with you.

Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.

"What--"

He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”

“Eddie…”

“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”

You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.

Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.

It’s overwhelming.

You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?

His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.

Fuck it.

“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.

You exhale his name, “Eddie,”

“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”

Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?

Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”

He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”

Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.

“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”

With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.

“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”

Warm warm warm.

It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.

Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.

There’s no one but you.

You’re everything.

I love you, please, let me love you.

Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.

“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.

Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”

“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”

He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”

Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"

He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.

"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."

You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.

"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.

Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"

A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.

You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."

You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"

You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."

Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."

"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."

He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.

"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."

"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.

You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.

"God, yes."

He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.

"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."

Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"

He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.

Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.

"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”

The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.

“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.

He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”

You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”

Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.

“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.

The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.

Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.

“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.

Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”

You’re both breathing heavy.

Now it’s his turn.

Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.

When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.

God damn...he's fucking huge.

"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"

Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.

"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."

"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.

You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.

"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.

His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"

You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.

"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.

Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.

Such a good girl.

Taking me so well.

My pretty girl.

Mine.

Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.

"Eddie, fuck, I--"

"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."

His words are like a spell.

You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.

"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"

You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."

"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.

He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.

"Hi." He says quietly.

You giggle softly, "Hi."

"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."

You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"

"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.

Nothing.

You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."

Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"

You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."

He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.

Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."

Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst

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hannieehaee · 6 months

Text

18+ / mdi

content: friends to lovers, pussy drunk mingyu (metaphorically), smut, f reader, dry humping, pining, sub!reader, etc.

wc: 840

masterlist

bestfriend!mingyu who's been crushing on you since you met but you were dating someone at the time so he pushed his feelings aside and befriended you instead

now that you had been broken up for a while, mingyu had a constant feeling in his chest urging him to make a move or at least try to get with his pretty best friend. the only problem was he was terrified of ruining your friendship.

little did he know the reason you broke up with your ex was because you couldnt stop thinking about mingyu. his sweet personality, the way he treated his family (he was always so so nice to his parents and sister), how caring he was with his friends, how respectful he was to his staff, how tall and handsome he was, how tenderly he always held you, how much you'd love for that tenderness to turn into something more.

you and mingyu were both stuck in a catch 22, unknowingly waiting for the other to make a move despite being completely incorrectly certain that the other did not like them back. until the dam finally broke.

"jesus christ" he exhaled against your ear, bare chest pressed up against yours.

it had been a regular hang out with completely innocent intentions (he swears !!) but you just looked so pretty that day and you were sitting so so close to him, he couldnt help but be a little extra drawn to you today.

it started with sitting a little closer than usual. now that you were single, the touchiness between you had gone up quite a bit, allowing for mingyu to finally indulge in your touch as he'd always wanted.

having been sitting closely on the couch, gracing each others hands at times, it was easy for mingyu to wrap his arms around you, and much easier for you to scoot and take a seat on his lap (after all, you were besties, right?).

you're not sure who started it, but you had found yourself guiding his hands under your loose shirt, allowing him to run his fingers up and down your abdomen, clearly warming up for something more.

in a very predictable turn of events, his hands ended up groping your bare breasts under your shirt, making you exhale at the warm and gigantic touch of his hands.

one thing led to another and you'd found yourself in your current position. almost completely bare with a six foot tall mingyu in a matching lack of apparel on top of you as he dragged the last clothed part of his body against you, rutting right against your clit, causing you to mewl as his head remained glued to your neck, licking and biting softly at it.

"jesus christ," he had exhaled against your ear a moment ago.

"baby, is this okay? are you sure?", he questioned, showing no signs of stopping his movements, even increasing the force behind them.

"y-yes. fuck. more please," you begged fruitlessly, half-aware that mingyu would give you anything you wanted anyway.

as he sped up, you wrapped your legs around his back, attempting to grind against him, obsessed with the drag of his massive size against you.

your high quickly approached. and with this knowledge mingyu sped up, grabbed your legs and wrapped them more securely around his waist as he rutted against you maniacally.

"do you know? do you have any idea how long i've waited?", he rasped against your ear.

'there wasnt a single day where i went to sleep without thinking of you first', he continued. "wishing i could drag this pussy up and down my cock and have you crying as you feel how much i want you."

"is this enough?", he questioned. "it'll never be enough for me. i need you again and again. need to be inside you. need you in my tongue. need to take care of you in every way. gotta take care of my pretty girl, right?", he rambled, rutting harshly against you as you almost reached your breaking point.

moaning and crying under him, you clawed at any part of him you could reach, feeling insanely euphoric at his words and at the heavy drag of his cock against your most sensitive parts.

"g-gyu- fuck pl-please dont stop. fuck. fuck please!", you begged, knowing your end had arrived.

"i wont. fuck. never. im gonna make you cum. and then im gonna bury my face between your legs and make you cry again. gonna make you come over and over so you can be ready to take me. gonna treat you so so good, my pretty thing. gonna love you so good," he sounded exasperated as he himself reached his end inside his boxers, feeling like a horny mess knowing he had much left in him to give.

as you both fell from your highs, mingyu got off the bed and swung your legs around his head, getting ready to give you yet another orgasm that would have you regretting not leaving your ex the moment you met your best friend.

a/n: uhhh once again not proofread im running on fumes atp. if theres any inconsistencies im so sorry </33

#seventeen #svt #svt smut #seventeen smut #seventeen oneshot #mingyu fanfic #mingyu scenario #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagine #mingyu smut #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen x reader

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princessbrunette · 6 months

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More rafeeee please help me get through my college apps with this

you’d been so fucking hyper today. rafe was stressed, he had a billion and two things on his mind — head reeling about business or his dad or his sisters or whatever bullshit decided to fly his way— and you had the audacity to be clinging onto his arm, barely dragging your little kitten heels to walk, mouth running constantly like an engine. he didn’t like being cruel to you, mainly because he wanted you to stay — but you were pushing it. if he clenched his jaw any harder he fears it might break.

come evening, he’s holding your hips down to the bed and rocking your shit. hard. you forget how huge he is most days when you’re beside him because you’re so used to it — it’s only when you’re under him and he’s covering you like a blanket, trapping you to the mattress that you appreciate it to its full extent. he pants, squinting at you as he holds himself up with one arm, stilling for a moment to talk. “this all it takes to calm you down? some dick? jesus christ…” you’re fucked out by this point, only meeting his glare with a gooey love struck expression and a fluttering cunt.

you swear he shakes his head as he continues the rhythm of the plap plap plap. “nothing to say now. that right?” his breath is warm and comforting on your skin, you don’t care about much else. “gotta do all the thinkin’ for the both of us don’t i?” it comes out more of a statement than a question, his rough hands jiggling at the fat of your hip.

“f-fuck…me…” you try, but it’s whiny and broken and unsure like you’ve never spoken before. he ticks his jaw, yanking you closer by the waist to get a better angle, his lips pursed and irritated.

“yeah, yeah. s’all you know isn’t it. fuck me.” he scoffs, pushing your knees up and getting back into his rhythm, beating away at your cervix. you mewl and clamp down hard. “that’s it, that’s the stuff.” he purs in that cruel nasally voice of his that only people with money can imitate.

“i don’t even wanna pull out, today.” he shrugs at you, still putting on a show despite being damn near breathless. his mouth turns downward when he shrugs in that careless way and you feel fat tears at the corner of each eye. maybe it’s because he’s mean, but you know primarily it’s because it feels so good. “i don’t think you deserve that respect right now. ‘cos where was that respect for me today, sweetheart? maybe it’ll put you in your fuckin’ place, finally.” he grits his teeth and speeds up. jesus, what a psycho.

“please.” you squeak.

“‘please’ as in do it or ‘please’ as in don’t. doesn’t matter what you want, but i’m curious.” his mouth gapes a little when he waits for your answer. he’s still cute in that boyish way even when he talks to you like this. red in the cheeks, curtained hair sticking to his forehead unevenly.

“i don’t know!” you cry out, going to cover your face or wipe your tears, whatever one comes first. he bats your hands away carelessly and leans forward again over you, pinning you down with his body weight and cantering his hips to grind into you.

“course you don’t.” he whispers, and he stops being mean after that. maybe he actually felt bad, or maybe your pussy’s just that good — wiping out his attitude completely.

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe obx smut #angelofcigs

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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Strange Love with Rockstar! Eddie or Punk!Steve!

reader has a love/hate relationship with him. total enemies to lovers type trope. reader is caught hate fucking one of them in a car or bathroom and when asked about it she simply says the iconic line “I don’t have to fucking tell you anything”

Rockstar Eddie x fem!rockstar reader

summary: You and Eddie seem to hate each other, so why can’t you keep your hands to yourself?

warnings: 18 + ! cocky eddie, mean reader, switch eddie and switch reader, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up!), cream pie, semi public sex.

word count: 3.3k

A/N: another blurb (aka one shot 🙄) for my follower celebration and to break steve streak with some eddie! I hope you enjoy. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always super appreciated if you enjoy 💕

“Jesus Christ how have you not sucked that fucking thing to the center yet?!” Throwing his notebook down on the table his clipped tone breaks you out of your pre-show warm up.

Twirling one of your drumsticks in between your fingers with ease, you bring your attention to the fuming metal head making sure to slurp down the sugary build up in your mouth as loud as you can.

“Jealous I’m not sucking something else Munson?” Pulling the remains of the lollipop out of your mouth you watch his eyes follow the string of spit that connects to your red tinted lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you smirk at the eye roll it earns you.

“In your fucking dreams.” He growls but you know damn well that’s exactly what he wants.

Barry and Jeff’s eyes widen from across the room, knowing exactly where this was headed. Gareth had handed over his drumsticks to you temporarily while he nursed a broken wrist, and despite Eddie’s protest here you were.

It always started this way, bickering before every show throwing insults at each other desperate to bruise the others' ego before hitting the stage. Creating a tension so thick it could only ever end one way once the adrenaline started coursing through your veins.

With purple and green bruises painted across your kneecaps and a slight limp in your walk from the last time you ran your mouth, you were ready to take no prisoners tonight. Especially when he stepped off the stage looking like that.

His tattooed skin glowed with a sheen of sweat under the lights in the back, his sleeveless white Iron Maiden shirt clung to what seemed like every muscle flexing underneath. Your eyes following the salty droplets falling from his bangs, you hate that you want to catch them with your tongue.

“You were off on the count down tonight.” Eddie’s critique sends rage down your spine as he brushes past you to high five Jeff. The temporary haze his body had you in quickly fading.

“I wasn’t off on dick, you came in too early.” Quick to snap back, you try to ignore the bulge growing in his pants. He was picking a fight on purpose. The menacing glint in his chocolate eyes gave himself away the moment they connected with yours.

“Sweetheart, I think you and I both know I don’t come early.” The cocky grin that spreads big across his face makes your hands twitch, fingers wrapping tightly around your drum sticks you will yourself not to chuck one at him. His face starting to look more and more like an easy shot when he throws you a wink.

Snorting loudly, you don’t give him the satisfaction. Your reaction only making it worse, as he narrows his eyes at you, shooting daggers at your knowing smirk. Insulting his sexual performance in front of his friends was always the quickest way to get under his skin.

“No shame in coming early Eddie, at least one of us gets too.” Your eyes catch the women’s restroom as you near the end of the hall. Flipping him the double bird, you push the bathroom door open with your back making sure to throw him the nastiest look you could muster before disappearing from his view. The boys “ohhh’s” filling your chest with pride at your victory.

Taking a shaking breath, you curse the amount of slick already ruining your underwear. Thighs pressing together in search for friction when you think about the way you just made his jaw clench. Thankful that the two stalls in the bathroom were empty, you set your drum sticks down on top of the soap dispenser before running a stream of cold water for yourself. Splashing some against your chest and neck it’s almost enough to calm the fire Eddie set ablaze inside of you.

The loud creak of the door opening snaps your head up, eyes watching from the mirror the sound of the lock clicking into place is followed by heavy footsteps. His heavy footsteps.

Rounding the corner Eddie Munson looked like he wanted to eat you alive.

“Real funny joke back there.” Big black boots stopping a few feet away from you, he crosses his arms over his chest before leaning against the wall. “Like I don’t make you cum screaming my name every other night.”

“Oh fuck off.” Rolling your eyes at him through the reflection you shut the water off, turning around to face him you make sure to mimic his stance pushing up your tits in the process. Plush lips twitching, he was onto you.

“I think you love saying my name actually.” Tapping a ringed finger on his full lower lip he pushes himself off the wall. Long legs making it easy to close the little space that was between you. The tobacco, weed, and sweat that dripped from his pores only added to your mess.

Crowding your space, he cages you in with both hands gripping the sink behind you. Ducking his head down till his lips brush against the shell of your ear, you can’t stop the shudder that runs through your body when you feel him smile against it before continuing.

“I think you dream about all the different ways I make you say my name, I know I dream about all those pretty little noises that I get from you.” Nipping at your ear lobe, his new sweetness has your resolve starting to break already as your arms start to come undone. Hands finding a new home on the button of his jeans.

“But then you start actually talking and my dick goes soft.” Dimples poking through his cheeks he pulls back to catch your reaction, more than proud of himself for thinking he got the upper hand. He’d almost gotten you to fold already.

The sting of his words sink in at the same time you feel his growing erection press against the top of your thigh. Meeting his gaze, the smug look on his face quickly turns into confusion when you give him a Cheshire smile.

“This doesn’t feel very soft to me baby.” Cupping his junk he hisses when you give it a good squeeze, feeling it twitch under his zipper you knew he was lying through his teeth.

His hands leave their place on the sink to grab at your hips, bruising fingers digging into your soft flesh adding to the almond shaped clusters already there from the nights before. Regaining control you continue to palm him, his heavy breathing becoming music to your ears. Reaching up on your tippy toes it's your turn to press your lips to his ear, relishing in the way you make him shudder just the same.

“You know what I think Eddie?” Nudging your nose into the dampness of his curls you suck his earlobe in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks till he moans. His grip on you almost becomes painful.

Releasing it with a pop your fingers work at the button of his jeans stopping at the zipper when you don’t get an answer.

“I think the only reason you didn’t want me covering for Gareth is because of how bad you wanted to fuck me and you didn’t think I’d feel the same.” You’re not gentle when you pull the zipper down, almost feeling bad when Eddie sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck to hide the broken groan.

Stuffing your hand down his pants you’re quickly met with the stickiness of his precum that already covered the inside of his boxers. Smirking against his ear he wasn’t so tough hunched over you like this. Completely at the mercy of your hand as it wraps around the thick base of his shaft pulling him free from his confines with a quick pump.

“And now that I’ve fucked you.” Eddie’s blown out eyes watch you spit in your hand before wrapping it around his length again. Gliding across him with ease his hips meet your pump when your thumb swipes over his leaking tip. “You don’t know how to handle it cause you want me to be yours huh?”

Stroking him with purpose all you get is a nod a low whimper. Biting your lip you suppress your own moan seeing him like this.

Sinking down, your fishnet covered knees hit the ground in front of him. Ringed hands finding their way back to the sink as he looks down at you from between his arms. The warm chestnut in his eyes turned onyx, you had all the control right now.

Making a show of stroking his length with both hands, you look up at him from underneath the hood of your lashes making sure his eyes are on you before you take him in your eager mouth. You were gonna make him eat his words from earlier just for fun.

Flattening your tongue you lick a long stripe up the side humming in satisfaction when he twitches in your hand. Taking his tip between your lips, your tongue is greedy to lap up the pearly white liquid leaking from the top. Eyes rolling in the back of your head when the saltiness of it hits your taste buds, you take as much of him as you can into the heat of your mouth without warning.

“Holy fucking shit.” Moaning loud enough to echo off the walls, his hands grip the sink is tight enough to see the milk of his knuckles.

Your hands hold the back of his thighs pulling him closer, relaxing enough to take him till tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. You hollow out your cheeks till his ruddy tip hits the back of your throat, his coarse pubic hairs brush against the tip of of your nose. Vision going white behind closed eyes. His brain short circuits under the quick work of your mouth, unable to even register what’s happening till the heaviness in his balls warn him of his impending release.

“Wait - shit - fuck - you’re - you’re trying to make me cum aren’t you?” Your taunting words from earlier ring loud in his head, he knew this was too good to be true.

Humming in response the vibration is almost enough to have him shooting down your throat. Mustering enough strength to regain control, he tries to pull away from you but your grip on his thighs only tightens, relaxing your throat even more.

Groaning when you take him even deeper than before you hear the metal of his rings clank loudly against the porcelain of the sink, holding it hard enough to break as he tries to fight off his orgasm.

“You’re done.” His tone is final when his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, pulling he rips you away from him with enough force for him to fall from your mouth with a slick pop.

Chest heaving as he tries to regain his breath, he looks like a man driven insane when the blacks of his eyes look down at you on your knees. Lips red and swollen from sucking his cock like your life depended on it, he would never get sick of seeing you like this.

“Now stand up and bend over the sink for me like I know you want to.” Voice dripping with want, your underwear was becoming almost uncomfortable from soaking through them all night.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you use his hips as leverage to pull yourself up letting the length of your body rub against his painfully hard erection in the process. Hissing with the extra sensitivity he grips your cheeks with one hand when you're finally back on your feet.

“I’m not cumming quick and you’re gonna cum first. You got that?” Nodding between his fingers, his lips turn up in the same cocky grin from before knowing he finally had you where he wanted you. He always knew when your eyes glazed over like this.

Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips he nudges your nose with his before whispering “Turn around.”

Following his instructions you face towards the mirror again, your hands finding purchase on the sink where his just were. Leaning forward to give him the access he wanted, your eyes meet your own in the reflection. The person staring back to you is almost unrecognizable. A needy tear streaked mess you watch him flip your skirt up over your hips, his eyes darkening even more when he sees the insides of your thighs coated with your own arousal.

“Always so fucking wet for me.” The strain in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, but you were too needy to be an asshole now. Wiggling your hips to taunt him, you look back over your shoulder. Blown out eyes meeting yours the expression on his face is enough to have you flutter around nothing.

His big hands grab at the doughy flesh of your ass. Watching the way it jiggles when he smacks it, the sting of his rings going straight to your cunt. FIngers curling around the tops of your tights he pulls them down with your underwear to your ankles. The cool air of the bathroom making you shiver when it hits your soaked folds, your body begging for more.

Running two fingers through your slit, he rubs a few small circles with pointed pressure to your bundle of nerves before collecting more of your slick to use as lube. The squelching noises at just his small touches has your cheeks burning hot, your body betraying your cocky words from before.

Coating himself enough to slide in easily, you feel his mushroom top spread through your folds. Rubbing himself down the length of you he chuckles darkly when you chase more with your hips.

“God, you’re gonna take me so well baby. You’re already such a mess.” Pressing himself to your entrance, you brace yourself tighter against the sink preparing for the stretch. You always had to get used to the feeling of him splitting you in two.

Nodding dumbly your neck goes slack when you feel him finally push himself in, walls stinging as he slowly makes himself fit.

“She’s sucking me in so good, so fucking tight. This all mine? Tell me it’s mine.” Pussy drunk already, Eddie didn’t care to put on his usual front anymore. You felt like heaven around his dick and he wanted you for himself.

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer or adjust before he pulls himself almost all the way out before abruptly shoving himself back in. The burn of his harsh thrusts making you cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, the pleasure slowly becoming more prominent when he starts hitting your g spot with every deep stroke.

His hands grip your hips to keep you close, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty stalls as he keeps up with his punishing pace.

“I asked who’s pussy this is baby.” One hand snaking between your jiggling thighs, two fingers quickly find your more than needy clit. Rubbing harsh figure eights he bends over so his chest presses against your back, somehow pushing himself even deeper. You swear you can feel him in your stomach like this.

“Answer me.”

Jaw slack and eyes scrunched close, the familiar tightness in your gut is getting closer and closer to letting go. Stopping the motion of his hips when you don’t give him what he wants, your eyes snap open as a strangled whine leaves your throat.

“I’ll give you what you want princess just tell me who your cunt belongs to.” his tone is full with dominance when he whispers in your ear, you muster enough brain power to find your voice.

“Yours.” Barely above a whisper when it leaves your mouth, he adds pressure to your bundle of nerves but just enough to tease.

“Louder.” Pressing his hips deeper into you, it’s enough to have you claw at the sink.

“YOURS” Too desperate to care about how he was going to hold this moment over your head, the need to cum was becoming overpowering after the day of relentless teasing. This is how it always was, the dynamic switching almost every time.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word coming out with a punch of his hips, his fingers make quick work against your clit obsessed with the way it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Being able to watch your face from the reflection of the mirror while he railed you from behind with everything he had only made it that much harder not to spill deep inside your velvet walls. Fingers working overtime on your swollen nub, the furrow of your brows and the way you start to tighten around him tells him all he needs to know.

“Come on baby, make a mess of me.” His thrusts became more deliberate in your undoing, each one hitting deeper than the last.

“God - Eddie!” It’s overwhelming when it hits you, seeing stars behind your closed eyes as your walls constrict tight enough to earn a loud drawn out ‘fuck’ as your release washes over him.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it.” The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft bruised skin of your hips as you feel him twitch inside of you.

Warmth filling your belly as he paints your insides white, you’re left a panting mess while he shudders on top of you. His orgasm hitting him in waves with the way your walls continue to milk him long after yours is done.

Keeping himself inside till he’s soft enough to slip out on his own, your soft moans fill the quiet at the loss of contact. The fullness that had you a trembling mess was replaced with that familiar dull throb of the after effects.

“You gonna be nice to me now or what Munson?” Putting himself away his eyes meet yours in the mirror. Their soft brown returned to their normal warm state, catching the beginnings of a small smile playing across his lips, his cheeks flush crimson.

“Depends on if you’re gonna be nice to me.”

Pulling your tights and underwear back up, the fact that you were keeping his seed inside like it was normal had his cock almost kick up again. You made him insatiable.

“I think I’ve proven to be very nice.” Biting your lip into a smile you lean back against the sink batting your eyelashes at him for good measure, your flirting only making him blush harder despite everything.

“I think we can work something out, who knows I might not even want Gareth back at the end of this.” The laugh he earns quickly becomes his new favorite sound.

Slinging his arm around you, he pulls you deep into his side before both of you make your exit out of the bathroom together. The boys all waiting around the hallway with knowing looks all over their faces. Taking in your more than chummy body language Barry’s the first to speak up.

“So does this mean you two are together or something?”

Jeff refuses to look you in the eyes, making it more than obvious they had gotten a little show, neither one of you really trying to be quiet.

“We don’t have to fucking tell you.” Eddie snaps scared that their questions will sabotage what he just got.

“Calm down man.” Raising his hands in defense Barry backs off “Just trying not to get whiplash with this sudden change of heart.”

Squeezing your shoulders tighter you reach up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek earning a unified groan from everyone, and a satisfied hum from the one that’s still dripping down your thighs.

——-

eddie tag list: @munsonology @munsonmunster @bimbobaggins69 @elthreetimes

#leighanne’s follower celebration #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson x you

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anundyingfidelity · 23 days

Note

heyy, how are youu? hope youre doing great!! congratss on your 400 followers 🎉!! i saw that you open a request maybe you would write a drabble for dark!soldier boy since theres not much dark fics about him and ive been craving it so badly. please and thank youu!! 💓💓

hellooo, i am doing good! thANK YOU SO MUCH! absoutely i will! since there's no specific details i just went with it for a dark!soldier boy drabble with a mix of stuff. i hope you like this one! :)

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

CRUEL INTENTIONS — Dark!Soldier Boy x female reader

Word count: 590 (oops).

Genre: dark stuff, smut.

Warnings: dark!soldier boy, dub-con, p in v smut, mentions of pain, dacryphilia, innocent!reader, corruption, degradation, soldier boy is obsessed with reader.

Since the first time he saw you around the Vought building, Soldier Boy knew he had to have you. No matter what. Having you under his mercy was his ultimate goal.

You were a new secretary around. So innocent, so pure, and full of life and joy, getting into the supe business making boring tasks and jobs designated to women like you. But Soldier Boy saw you enjoying all of that. You always arrived early to work, with a smile that would brighten the day of any idiot by your side. Your laugh was sweet and perfectly created to be ruined, only by him. To your lovely voice to be converted into pleas and cries.

After days of not so subtly hitting on you, playing the nice gentleman, he had you under his skin using lies and a couple of threats. Soldier Boy remembered the way you accepted his invitation to his annual ‘private party’ without specifying any further details. The party that was Herogasm. And now, he fucked you into oblivion over a rustic wood desk, taking in the tightness of your cunt around his dick and the sinful moans slipping from your sore throat. His eyes taking in the sinful sight of his cock entering your tight pussy, walls clenching around him yet again as you reached your peak. Soldier Boy already lost count of how many times he had made you cum.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me,” he hissed. His thrusts never stopped, instead increased their rhythm. “Look how much you’ve come because of my cock. Am I that good, my little slut?”

You looked away, shutting your eyes closed as you felt another orgasm building inside you, pleading with a broken voice. “Please, please…”

The tears were already coating your flushed face, ashamed of what was happening and not sure if it was right. He was just using you. But at the same time, you wanted more of him. Soldier Boy already bent you over every surface of the room, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you, handling you like if you were just a mere ragdoll for him to play with as much as he wanted, taking you apart from the whole orgy that was showing outside. He was fucking insatiable, barely getting rid of his helmet and just taking out his hard cock to fuck your mouth and then get buried inside your tight cunt. At first, you weren’t sure about letting him fuck his way with you, but his voice and promises of pleasure were more than sufficient to somehow give in.

“Jesus Christ, your pussy feels like heaven,” he breathed, increasing the tightness of his grip on your hips.

Even if your thighs felt like burning, that your whole body was under ache due to the hard grips on you, you needed him. And he was going to make you his little plaything. He smirked as you, one more time, dissolved into the sweet and painful pleasure of cuming around his girth, letting out a sinful moan that mingled with the animalistic sounds of women and men fucking like beasts outside the room. He hissed with anticipation, his lustful eyes lingering over your teary face as he slowed down his thrusts. Fuck, he wanted nothing more but to make you cry harder.

“Sweetheart, I still need to cum,” he purred, wiping the tears rolling down your skin.

You sobbed, catching your breath. “I’m tired.”

“Just a couple more rounds, you’ll do it, baby.”

Soldier Boy was being kind to you. Next time he wouldn’t go that easy.

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy smut #soldier boy imagines #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy/ben #the boys soldier boy #400followerstag!

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hecateslore · 2 months

Text

💌

supervisor!Simon

some nsfw soooooo read at your own risk, as always MDNI

“Simon, I want this to go somewhere,” you admit. Simon sighs, You hold your breath for a moment. You’re love sick. Overwhelmed from all the emotions you've been feeling. You can feel the embarrassment build in your chest. He’s not gonna say anything. You know it. You sit up, Simon still looking up at the ceiling.

“Simon?” you ask, “Hm?” he hums, “Did you hear me?” Simon nods, “just thinking”. You look at him, “About what?” you ask. “About us.” He looks at you, “If you want this to go somewhere, it will.”

“Do you?” you bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for his response. “I do.” his brown eyes stay on your face. “I do too.” he chuckles at you. “You wanna be my girlfriend?” he pinches your cheek softly, teasing you. You swat his hand away, “Be serious,” you whine.

“I am.” he looks at you, with so much emotion in his eyes, “I’ll be your girlfriend.” You smile and He smiles back. “So we’re boyfriend and girlfriend now?” you ask.

“Guess so?” he shrugs.

You wake up Sunday morning, your clothes missing from last night's festivities. You look around your room and see Simon is gone. The only thing was his shoes, pants and shirt folded neatly in the corner of your room. You look under your blanket, trying to find the shirt you were wearing yesterday. When you find it, you slip it on. You walk towards the living room and as you get closer you can hear the sound of the tv playing.

“You waste electricity doing that.” you rasp. Simon looks up from his phone, “Good morning.” he pats the seat next to you. You sit and tuck yourself into his side, absorbing all of his warmth. Simon kisses the top of your head, “Sleep well?” You hum at his question and close your eyes, his body heat making you drowsy. “Did you?” you mumble. “I did.” he rubs your arm.

“You still seem half asleep.” he chuckles, “I am.” Simon rolls his eyes, and kisses your head again, “let’s go back to bed.” you open your eyes. Simon raises his brow, “Oh shush.” you snort.

“I didn’t say anything,”

And that’s how Simon had you bent over your bed, You moaned softly, your body arching. The sound of his thick thighs smacking the back of yours. his hands grip your hips as he pounds himself into you, You let out whines from the pleasure. Simon groans, “Oh my fucking god,” he practically sighs at the sight of his cock thrusting in and out of you.

He can hardly contain himself, His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you back against him. “Simon, Jesus christ.” you manage, He thrusts harder, and your bed frame lets out a loud creak.

“My bed! My Bed!” you exclaim, and Simon stops. “What?” his voice hoarse, “It’s gonna break.” you breathe .He pulls out, “Lay on the floor,” he orders. You crawl onto the carpet and lay on your back with Simon right behind you.His hands push your thighs apart as he positions himself between them.His cock slides inside you, and you let out a low moan.

“Stupid fucking bed,” he chuckles.

Monday, you walk into the office, giddier than normal. You walk past Simon's office and see him on his computer, The thoughts of Saturday night and Sunday morning playing in your mind. You get to your desk and do your best to calm yourself down.

Johnny walked into the office, eyes on you immediately, and you were zoned out, thinking about Simon's large body on top of yours (just like me fr!).

“Hello,” Johnny smiles. “What!” You say, snapped out of your very lewd thoughts. “I said hello.” he chuckles, “Hi.” You breathe, “You didn’t return any of my text this weekend?” he raises a brow at your behavior. “Oh um, I was with my-” You think about it for a second, “I was with my boyfriend.” You nod, a small smile making its way onto your face.

“Boyfriend?” he raises his brows in shock. “Uh yeah.” you say awkwardly, “Is that why you couldn’t answer?” Partially, half of the time you were getting your back broken in, folded like a launch chair, on the counter in the living room, not on the bed anymore, sadly.

“We were… out.” You lie. “Oh,” he nods, “What’d you guys do?” he asks, This was one of those moments you wished Simon would interrupt rudely. “We went out, you know, ate and stuff?” You try your best. “Sounds like fun.”

“It was A LOT of fun!” Your eye almost twitches at the Image of a shirtless simon popping up in your brain. He only nods, “talk to you later?” you give him a thumbs up, and he walks to his desk. Simon’s door opens and he walks over to your desk.

“Hi.” he says, bending by your chair, almost eye level to you. “Hello.” You smile. “Whatcha been up to-” you start but are immediately interrupted by Linda, “I overheard that you have a boyfriend?” She chirps, Simon raises his brows and looks at her, “Well isn’t that news?” he says sarcastically, and you glare at him. “Who told you?” you say, masking your annoyance with a smile, “Well I heard you and Johnny but I just had to see for myself,” she explains, “Oh wow” you say sarcastically–the smile still plastered on your face.

Simon stands to his full height and lets out a gleeful chuckle and walks back into his office.

It was tuesday night you got off work and zoomed home, got in the shower and waited for simon to come over. You told him to bring an overnight bag so he could spend the night, he said he would think about it.

By the time you got out of the shower, Simon texted he was 5 minutes away from your house. You got your plates ready while you stood in the kitchen drinking your leftover snapple that Simon bought you earlier in the day.

He knocks on the door three times and you walk over to open the door, First thing you notice is the overnight bag in his hand. You smile, “So we’re having a sleepover.” You tease. “Move it,” he grins, walking past you into your apartment. He takes his shoes off and puts them on the rack and walks to where you're standing, going in for a kiss.

“I made food.” you break, “that’s nice,” he gives you peck, “I’m hungry, Simon.” he pecks your lips again, “Me too.” he says between kisses,“We can’t.” you pull away, “My bed.” you frown.

“We’ll just do it on the floor.” he shrugs and wraps his arm around your waist, lifting you off the floor and taking you to your room.

“I’m not having sex on the floor anymore.” you whine walking out of your room. Your ass is raw from it rubbing on the carpet. Simon’s knees were red, from the friction. Simon snorts at you rubbing your own butt. “You’ll be okay.” he hooks his arm around your neck kissing the crown of your head.

“I need to get a new bed frame,” you say, grabbing two plates from your cabinet. “Yeah, My knees can only take so much.” Simon comments, taking the plate that sat on top of yours.

When you both finish eating you guys go back to your room to lay down. “I need to shower.” you remind yourself, “Me too.” Simon sighs. It was quiet for a moment,

“No.” You warn. Simon throws his hands up defensively.

You both get out of the shower and put your pajamas on, You complained for the last 15 minutes because you two wasted all the warm water. Simon sighs as he lays down gently. The softness of the bed (also you two fucking like rabbits!) and the shower makes him drowsy.

His eyes follow you around the room, watching you move things around and find some pajama pants. When you get settled you open your Ipad and do your crossword of the day.

“You’re an old lady.” he mumbles. “I’m sorry?” you say and look at a very sleepy Simon, “You’re routines like an old lady’s” he chuckles to himself. You flick his forehead, “You’re like 43, go to sleep.” Simon laughs to himself and then flips on his stomach, to which you scold him for jumping around.

During Wednesday's lunch you sat outside by yourself listening to music, You were eating your sandwich and watching people walk around. You could feel eyes on you, when you look up you see Johnny walking out of the supermarket with his eyes trained on you.

“What are you doing by yourself?” he asks, placing his things right next to yours, “Lunch.” you nod, “Want some company?” he smiles, him asking didn’t make a difference when he sat his things down. “Make yourself comfortable.” You sigh.

“So who’s the new guy?” he asks, trying to be funny, “Excuse me?” you asked confused, “You’re boyfriend,” he explains. “Oh, uhm, just some guy.” you shrug, trying to avoid his questions.

“Some guy huh?” he snorts, “Some guy.” you repeat. “Does Simon know?” he looks at you, “Does it matter if Simon knows?” You ask, narrowing your eyes slightly, “Well I mean you and Him are friends,” He claimed. “We talked about it briefly.” you lie.

“I bet he was furious.” he snickers, “He wasn’t,” You watch him, “He was happy for me, actually.” you comment. “Really?” he meets your gaze, “Yeah,” you nod.

“It’s because he likes you,” He jokes, “I bet he does.” you roll your eyes.

“What are you doing on friday?” you ask standing in the kitchen with your phone on speaker, “Uh dunno.” Simon says on the other line, “Do you want to go to bed-frame looking with me?”

“After work?” He asks, “After work.” You confirm, stirring the tomato soup. “Sounds good.” he says, “You want to stay at my place after?” He suggests, “Ooh, I get to stay at your place.” you tease. “Yes or no?” you can hear the eye roll in his voice. “Obviously yes.”

“That one’s nice.” he points, You look at the tag on, “Not for that much,” You show him the tag, “jesus christ.” he cringes, “What about that one?”

“That's cute,” you say flipping over the tag, just five dollars above the budget. “Would you go five dollars over your budget?” You look at Simon who was opening the nightstands, “No.” he says, You sigh, “It’s only five dollars though,” you whine.

You two spend another hour looking at bed frames and walk out of the door unsuccessful. No bed frame, just a budget.

“I’m gonna get that bed frame.” You say as you buckle your seatbelt, “Just look online” Simon adjusts your rearview mirror, “Your car is a trip.” he thinks aloud, “Foot on the brake and then press.”

“You buy a frame online and I’ll build it for you.”

taglist:@darkravenqueen98@shunoodles @lovely-giggles @imjustmes @definitelynotaclown @oreo-cream @whos-fran @ilovehyperfixating @idkbbyx3@pieckyghost @mareiasereia@emmalandry@aylaveyou @w00lgathering @sugartits-123 @thesinsoflust @yuujuice

#supervisor!simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost fanfiction #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon riley cod #simon riley #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap cod

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daisygirlwrites · 1 year

Text

Behind the Wheel

Summary: Times when Ghost's driving (& piloting) gets the team in trouble.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, injuries and drinking (but not really). Mentions of death. Mentions of throwing up.

Pairing(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader (Platonic), Task Force 141 x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1,642

Note: No use of (Y/N)

a/n: hey hey! so sorry that this is late! school just started for me and i've been doing job interviews as well. finally got some time tonight to finish this. sorry if the ending felt rushed, my brain didn't know how to word. might post another fic/headcanons this week though! also, thank you so much for 100 followers! and another thanks to @thoughtfullyhauntedchild for inspiration :3

taglist: @bobfloydsgf

Las Almas

Seeing the truck almost brought tears to your eyes. You were exhausted to say the least, also pissed off with Graves and Shepard and even more that you got shot. It was not your day. But during the darkest hour, that running truck was the ray of light you needed.

After exchanging shots with the remaining Shadows in the area, Ghost rams through the blockade without warning. Still sitting up from covering the men in the front, the forward momentum launches you out of the backseat, body moving towards the already broken windshield.

If it weren’t for Soap's quick reflexes, it would have been the second time you’ve been thrown out the window during a mission. Thankfully he grabs the back of your vest to slow you down. But instead of glass, your face hits the dashboard. The pain was blinding white, tears threaten to spill as Soap pulls you back and you cradle your face in your hands.

You missed Ghost’s eyes widened with shock (and slight amusement) as yours was still closed to stop the tears from leaking out. Soap’s eyebrows furrow with concern as he gently tilts your chin up and carefully slides the balaclava down your face, a chain of "owies" leaving your lips.

“Sorry Lass, I’m just gonna feel if it’s broken, okay?”

“As long as you let me whine about it.”

Using his pointer finger and his thumb, Soap makes small squeezes down your nose. You mutter curses as he does so. “Fuck, dammit! Oh Jesus Christ, shit!” Soap mumbles back apologies, keeping his hand steady as the truck drives through the uneven ground. He pulls back, giving your face another inspection.

“Definitely swelling but nothing feels broken to me.” You give him the okay sign. Moving back to your seat, you gently maneuver your mask back on.

Ghost can feel your eyes burning holes on the back of his head. Maybe he did feel a little bad but it really wasn’t his fault that you slammed your face on the dashboard. He just hopes your nose isn’t broken or else he won’t hear the end of it. But still, he kind of apologizes.

Giving you a glance through the rearview mirror, he acknowledges you. “My bad, Sargent.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes and feeling like this is the most he’s going to say, you let out an audible sigh.

“It’s cool, LT."

Moscow

Whenever the team goes out after missions, you were almost, if not always the designated driver of the group. It started as a “rookie responsibility” but honestly, you liked taking care of others. It reminded you of your college days, dragging your friends back to the dorm building, feeding them goldfish and water before tucking them in bed and leaving them some painkillers for when they wake up. Now, you do the exact same things but with taller military guys that claim to have high tolerance.

However, tonight’s a little different. Nikolai piloted the team to safety and as a thank you, Price promised to buy everyone's drinks. You initially declined the offer but Soap’s question made you reconsider.

“Don’t you wanna try real Russian Vodka?” He grins at you. He watches you open your mouth before closing it, eyes deep in thought. Sensing your hesitation, Soap looks over to their Lieutenant that was in the back of the group.

“Hey LT, can you drive us back tonight?” Soap shouts at him. Ghost narrows his eyes. “Please? Crash has always driven us back!”

Ghost doesn’t respond but you do instead. “Don’t worry about it LT! I won’t drink tonight, I’ll drive everyone to the hotel.”

Soap lets out a whine, disappointed and even Gaz looked a little bummed. Clearly annoyed, mostly with himself for giving into peer pressure (and not wanting to deal with Soap’s bitching for the rest of the night), Ghost lets out a sigh, “Oi, Crash.”

Watching your head turn back at him, he opens his hand. “Keys,” He demanded. You raise an eyebrow at him, silently asking “Are you sure?” He just nods. Fishing the keys out of your pocket, you toss it towards him.

A few hours and many shots later, the group piles back into the SUV. Nikolai sits up in the front passenger seat, giving Ghost slurred directions back to the hotel, while Soap and Gaz laying passed out in the back row. You and Price are in the middle, him telling you a story from his past and you, not really comprehending, nodding along.

The car makes a slight jump when hitting a bump on the road, the movement not helping your stomach. It’s becoming more frequent now, along with the addition of the sharp turns. Looking away from Price and to the driver in front of you, your brain was slow to process what was going on. The bumps continue, eventually waking the two men in the back seat. Even with your hazy mind, you notice a pattern during the beginning chaos. Slide, bump, slide, bump. Glancing out the window to confirm your suspicions, you watch the tires going over every curb you see.

Ghost was annoyed again. Nikolai’s instructions were sudden, therefore making his movements jerky. The safer option is to slow down but Ghost wanted everyone in bed.

“Jesus, Si. The fuck you haulin’ ass for?” He hears your voice call out. "Fuckin' driving like a teenager, hitting curbs and shit."

“The girl is right. Wouldn’t want the police to show up,” Nikolai comments. As if he had been blessed with the gift of prophecy by Apollo himself, Ghost catches the sight of red and blue lights flashing behind him.

“Oh fuckin’ hell."

Swiss Alps

One of the pilots is dead, the other was putting pressure on their arm that was sporting a gunshot wound, the aircraft itself was spinning out of control and you were panicking. Honestly, everyone was panicking but you’re the only one showing it.

“Oh man, why am I forgetting my training for this?” You questioned, mostly to yourself. Price keeps a tight grip on your shoulders, trying to calm you down from your ramblings. Constant beepings and warnings are heard throughout the helicopter. Gaz, already bracing himself while Soap frantically looks around for anything useful.

Ghost, looking unbothered, shoves the body aside and takes a seat. He glances over at the injured pilot. “You’re going to instruct me to land this thing.”

“Crash landing to be more accurate. Look for big snow piles,” They yell out. Ghost nods, grabbing hold of the cyclic and quickly scans for snow mounds. Finding one that looks big enough, he leads the helicopter towards it. It was supposed to be simple, just crash on the fluffy snow and call it a day. However, trying to stabilize a malfunctioning aircraft wasn’t as easy as he thought. Though, upon seeing the pile of safety, he gives out a breath of relief.

Ghost on and off the field is a machine. So when he completely misses the snow mound, he lets out an audible gasp. Along with the loud beeping, Soap and Gaz join’s your screaming.

“HOW DID YOU MISS?! HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MISS THE-” Your yelling was the last thing he heard before blacking out.

141 Task Force Base

Waking up in the med bay was something he wasn’t expecting, along with being alive in general. The lights were dim, his eyes adjusting his surroundings quicker. Wiggling his fingers, he was relieved to feel them touch the cotton sheets. Unsure of what injuries he had, Ghost slowly lifts his hand up to his face. He lets out a quiet sigh when he feels the familiar fabric of his balaclava. Suddenly his mind races to his team, to Soap, to you.

The last thing he recalls was blurs of trees and everyone screaming.

“Hey! LT’s awake!” A familiar Scotts voice rings out, followed by someone shushing him and what sounds like a slap on the head.

The lights turn a smidge brighter, as if to not hurt Ghost’s eyes. He watches the team walk into the room, looking a little more rough than usual. His gaze lingers on the shortest member of the group. A couple bandages cover her face, along with a frown. Arms crossed and eyes refusing to meet him.

Price explains to him that after the collision, he, Gaz and Soap had to drag you, him and the other pilot out. And also the helicopter exploded. They watch him run a hand down his masked face.

He looks at you again, “You’re pissed.”

You meet his gaze this time, “No shit.”

Sensing some tension, the team spreads out through the room, not wanting to get in the way but also wanting to see you go off on the Lieutenant.

“Your driving sucks ass, LT! Like Cher from Clueless! Hitting curbs like a teenage girl. Holy fuck, my guy.” You start. All Ghost could do was stare at you, more amused than angry. “You almost broke my nose in Mexico with a freaking break check, I threw up in front of police officers- wasting eighty dollars worth of good vodka! And now this!” You point at your face. “My face is all jacked up!”

That last comment made him chuckle, out of all the things you were concerned about, it was your appearance that mattered. He inspects your face, besides having new scars, everything else looks the same. All he could do was shake his head in disbelief.

“Crash, you are such a girl.” He gives you a smile. You couldn’t see his mouth but his eyes expressed it. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

That comment caught you off guard, feeling heat coming up to your cheeks. You were speechless.

"Also, it really wasn't my fault."

"YES IT IS!"

#daisygirlwrites #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john mactavish #soap mactavish

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ourautumn86 · 2 years

Text

SICK LOVE

perv! obsessed steve x fem!reader pt.1

pt2!

synopsis;

you catch your best friend steve touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;

really perv!steve, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom steve, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

a/n; i really need to pray

for forgiveness after this…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own. (!!!!!)

word count;

6k!

:¨·.·¨:

`·. lastly; enjoy!<3

‘Use me. Use me...’

Steve was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you had invited Steve for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in Hawkins in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen asleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared of getting a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’d be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Steve loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used his hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Steve considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woken up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Steve was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck, y/n…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Stevie!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Steve always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film he had been dying to watch for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to Hawking’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Steve?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Steve fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’d taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Steve was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his dick in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bitten down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Steve was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Steve’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Steve Harrington, King fucking Steve, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Stevie.”

“I’m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Steve’s. It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Stevie…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Steve?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Steve…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his brown thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Steve…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving them to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about his mouth. Steve knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you teetering on the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Steve, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell off those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Steve crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Steve drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Steve.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Stevie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Stevie.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now pushing your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Steve, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Steve, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts has you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Steve, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Steve, Steve, Steve…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Steve. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave you the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Steve!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Steve had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

to be continued in part two! <3

a/n;

I WILL NOT, AND I REPEAT, WILL NOT SAY WHAT SUB! NEEDY STEVE DOES TO ME!!! but anyways, i hoped y’all liked this perv stevie as much as i did! love you all!

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<333

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andvys · 1 year

Text

We'll burn the sky | part eleven

Warnings: 18+, mentions of smut, angst, mentions of substance abuse, mentions of death, mentions of cheating, mentions of reader smoking cigarettes

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | past Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham

Summary: Corroded Coffin plays at the hideout again, friends, family and.. enemies show up

Word count: 8k+

@mysticmunson thank you for your amazing ideas as always, bestie🥺

Series masterlist

inspo for the outfit reader was wearing

Eddie’s words and actions kept you up all night. His touch lingered, you could still feel his lips on your neck as your mind repeated his words.

I’m yours, I’m all yours, I’ve been yours right from the start, you have my heart, sweetheart. You’re all I want.

You stared at him with a dumbfounded expression on your face as you searched for the dishonesty in his eyes, only to find none. He was saying the truth, he wasn’t lying, he never lied about his feelings for you.

Despite the things he said to you before, despite the girl that he kept a secret from you for months, you believed him. You finally realized that he never pretended, you were never just a placeholder, he never used you for the band. Right then, he let you see inside his mind, all his walls crumbled and he let you see everything.

And all you saw was a broken man who found love and comfort in you.

Yes, now you know that he never lied but now you are all the more scared. You already found out what it feels like to lose him, what it feels like to live without him, what it feels like to get your heart broken by Eddie Munson

What if you will truly lose him someday?

What if he will leave you?

What if he will find someone better?

What if he will get sick of you and abandon you the way everyone else did?

All these what if’s run through your mind but the one that truly matters doesn’t.

What if he stays?

The hideout is bustling, loud music is playing in the crowded bar, laughter and loud voices are heard from every corner in the bar. Eddie looks around in awe. A look of pride is lingering on his face.

Despite performing on big stages, in front of even larger crowds, in front of thousands of people, he can’t help but feel more excited than ever. This is where it all started. No longer is the place filled with emptiness, the place is filled with people, ones that came here just for the band. A lot of them, he doesn’t even recognize.

But he finds the five drunks, still claiming their usual table, just like they did two years ago. He talked to them earlier, all of them giving Eddie pats on the back and telling him how proud they all are.

He smiles to himself.

Wayne is sitting at the bar with Steve and Robin, all three of them are seemingly in a deep conversation as they wait for their drinks.

The teens are here too, sitting around a round table, he eyes Lucas who is the most excited one out of them. He chuckles to himself, knowing that he is only excited to see you.

After setting everything up on the stage, Eddie walks to the small backstage room to get you. He raises his fist to knock on the door but it opens just before he can do so.

He freezes and his jaw drops. You look good, you always do but tonight, you look insanely good.

“Jesus H Christ,” he mumbles to himself.

He lowers his hand and takes a step back, letting his eyes rake over your body. His cheek flush red and his eyes darken as he eyes your outfit, your exposed skin, your cleavage, your beautiful face, your hair that you no doubt spend the last hour on.

His stomach flutters and suddenly he feels very hot.

He whispers your name in shock.

You blush at the way he is staring at you. Crossing your arms over your chest, he suddenly groans, eyes widening as he stares at your boobs in the little top that is laced together in the middle, exposing your skin and covering your boobs just enough.

“Like what you see, Eddie?” you ask teasingly.

He just nods, still staring at all the leather covering your skin.

“Y-You look so fuck… so hot,” he stutters.

You can’t even help but chuckle. That’s the first thing he has said to you after last night, after he went inside before telling you, that he is willing to wait for you.

You wish you could go back to the way things used to be but you can’t, the pain is still so fresh and all your fears have caught up to you ever since the night you found out about her.

You can’t be vulnerable with him, at least not yet.

But maybe you can go back to the beginning.

“Thanks,” you smirk, “Steve helped me pick out this outfit.”

His eyes flash with jealousy and he has to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

“You should’ve seen all the other outfits he made me try on, just for him.”

He furrows his brows as his awestruck stare turns into an icy one.

“He also made me try on lingerie but that wasn’t very appropriate for the stage,” you shrug.

“Stop that,” he mutters angrily.

You raise your brows, smirking at him, “why?”

“You know why.”

You shake your head, jutting your lip out as you pretend to think, “no, I don’t.”

He looks hot. He ditched the leather jacket he was wearing earlier, left in a muscle shirt that shows off his toned arms and tattoos. He is wearing dark pants with his trusted belt with the handcuffs. The rings you love so much and the highlight of his outfit tonight; the bandana around his head.

You take a step towards him, giving him an innocent smile, “you look nice,” you whisper, running your hand down his arm, “I love the bandana, Eddie.”

He looks a little speechless, as though he doesn’t understand why you are talking to him like this, why you are touching him and acting the way you used to before it all went to shit.

The way you look at him and the way you touch him, reminds him of the way you used to do when you just met but something about you seems different now, perhaps it’s the intensity of your feelings or the pain you have gone through ever since then.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You nod, giving him a small smile.

“You ready for the show?”

“So ready,” he sighs with a smile on his face, “wanna go out together?” he asks, holding his hand out for you.

You look down at it, heart fluttering in your chest.

You always go out hand in hand, it shouldn’t be anything new and yet something about it feels different. Perhaps it’s because you are in his hometown, about to perform in front of his friends and family and he isn’t hiding you or your relationship.

You look back into his eyes, seeing the softness in them, it somehow makes your heart ache.

You place your hand in his and he smiles at you. You expect him to lead you to the stage but instead he raises your hand, “give me a twirl, sweetheart,” he grins.

“Really?” you snort, knowing that he only wants to see what the back of your outfit looks like.

He nods.

Shaking your head, you chuckle and give him a twirl, the groan that leaves his lips gives you satisfaction.

His eyes almost bulge out of his skull when he looks at the way your ass looks in those tight leather pants, “holy fuck.”

The sound of your giggle fills him with warmth. He never thought he would get to hear it again, at least not directed at him.

He can’t explain the sudden change of your behavior towards him, yesterday you still gave him the cold shoulder, side glances and huffs of annoyance, today, things seem different. Perhaps, you finally decided to give him a second chance, maybe you believe him now, hopefully you do.

Holding your hand makes him happy, though he can still feel the tension in your body and see the distance in your eyes. You don’t trust him and maybe you never will but he is happy to at least have you like this. He will take the teasing over the cold shoulder any day.

When you walk out onto the stage, he intertwines his fingers with yours and gives your hand a squeeze.

You smile at Gareth and Jeff, you haven’t seen them since your arrival in Hawkins, you can’t believe it but you missed them.

You look up at Eddie, watching the way his eyes glow with happiness and excitement as the people cheer for him, for the band. He waves at some people he recognizes from school, ones that didn’t give him a hard time.

He looks at Wayne, a proud smile lingers on his face as he claps for his nephew.

He looks at his friends, eying every single one of them with a big smile on his face.

Eddie couldn’t be more blessed to have such amazing people in his life. His uncle and his friends always supported him, they were always there, they were the ones to encourage him to live his dream, they were the ones who had faith in him and then you came along and you made his dream so much bigger.

Despite the pain he caused you, you look up at him with a soft smile on your face, pride and love in your eyes, for a second you push it all away, the pain, the heartbreak, the sadness. You look at him. You see the emotions in his eyes, the gratitude. You are happy for him.

You know that Eddie had a hard time growing up here. This town caused him so much pain and suffering. People treated him poorly, his father abandoned him, childhood friends turned on him, kids at school bullied him, his girlfriend broke his heart and stomped all over it.

The man that stands in front of you is still a broken child on the inside and you can see it behind all the happiness in his eyes.

You let go of his hand, taking a step back from him, you reach for the microphone.

Eddie gives you a puzzled look but you don’t look at him, looking at the crowd instead as you wait for them to quiet down.

“I love you, y/n!” Lucas yells and you can’t even help but laugh, especially when Max hits his chest with a laugh. You form a heart with your fingers at him, laughing again when he places his hand over his heart.

Eddie chuckles at him, shaking his head. He is happy to see you getting along with his friends.

“Hello Hawkins,” you finally speak into the microphone, “thank you for giving me such a warm welcome but first, let’s give the guys some love, let’s give the stars of Hawkins a round of applause!” you say as you look at your bandmates with a grin on your face, clapping for them.

Gareth gets up from behind his drums and starts clapping for himself, giving the audience a cocky grin before he blows you a playful kiss. Johnny chuckles at his friend, shaking his head as he looks at the audience.

Jeff rolls his eyes at his friend, unable to fight the smile off his face though. He looks at the large crowd, this has been the fullest the place has ever been. Corroded Coffin never had much of an audience except for the five drunks who are cheering for them like crazy now. Jeff waves at them, grinning.

“These guys are one of the best people I know. I'm glad you all found each other and created the best band in the world. Eddie,” you pause as you turn back to him.

His gaze softens as he looks into your eyes. His heart begins to race as you bring all the attention to him.

“I hope you can see how loved you are,” you say, gesturing to the audience, to his friends and his uncle, “you are the most talented person I know, the best performer in the world. Thank you for letting me be a part of your dream. Now, let’s give it up for Eddie Munson, my favorite rockstar.”

Eddie can’t even hear all the cheering, the applause and his friends cheering his name. His heart is thumping and the biggest smile is resting on his face as he looks at you, watching the way you clap for him too as you smile at him.

He can’t even help himself, walking towards you, he grabs you, swooping you off your feet, he holds you tightly, he hears your squeal even over the cheers that just got even louder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly, enjoying the moment you have been craving for so long.

Both of you close your eyes for a moment, hearts racing and fluttering but feeling whole again as you finally hold each other again.

He smells your perfume as your hair falls in his face.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Go Eddie!”

You both laugh at Lucas’s cheer.

Eddie squeezes your waist as he places you back on your feet again, giving you a smile, he steps back and reaches for his microphone.

“Thank you, guys,” he says as he looks into the audience, “we can’t start before welcoming my girl, my favorite rockstar, y/n was the one who made our band whole, she was the one who made our songs even better, the one who made it all better. Let’s give it up for the best rockstar of all time!”

You blush at his words, watching the way he claps for you with the people. Smiling at him, you watch him get his guitar.

While Eddie got to see your walls fall for a moment and he finally met your sweet and soft side again, he didn’t expect it to be over just as quickly as it came. The moment you started performing, you let the devil out.

You were never shy on stage and you never had a problem being affectionate with him but today, you are different, so much more affectionate, intense and intimate. What may look like a normal performance to the audience, looks so much more intimate to Eddie.

Your lust filled gazes, the mischievous looks in your eyes as you press yourself against him or run your fingers down his chest drives him crazy and it doesn’t even stop at that.

As if he doesn’t already have a hard time controlling himself and his feelings, you end up getting on your knees, right in front of him. You lean back and arch your back, running your hand down your chest as you are singing your lungs out.

Eddie’s eyes widen, he clenches his jaw as he stares at your body. You look sinful.

Your hair is tousled, your skin is glowing, a satisfied look crosses your face as you rake your eyes down his body, winking at him before you move onto your knees, reaching your hand out to one of the girls in front of the stage, who takes it right away, eyes lighting up as she stares at you in awe.

Eddie swallows harshly, fingers strumming the guitar as he leans forward to sing his part. He cannot tear his eyes away from you though, lingering on your ass now. God, the things he would do to you.

He is grateful for his guitar, otherwise everyone would notice the tent in his black jeans. The thought of having to perform three more songs, seems like a torture to him and it truly ends up being torture.

Your teasing never stopped, if anything you kept taking things further and further.

He is enjoying himself but he does wonder what brought it on.

When you raise your brows at him and tilt your head towards the entrance, he follows your eyes and finds her, Chrissy. Her arms are crossed and she stares at you with a scowl on her face, angry eyes flashing whenever you look her way.

She is jealous of you, not because he loves you, not because he wants you but because you get the attention that she used to get. Chrissy never loved Eddie and thinking back to it, she knows they should have been nothing more than friends, perhaps things could have been better that way but it’s no use to ponder over what could’ve been.

She doesn’t hate you but she hates that you were the reason for him to turn his back on her. Her anger only sparks when she looks at Jason who stands next to her with a smirk on his face as he eyes you with a hungry gaze in his eyes, the one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie either as he finds him staring you down like some hungry animal.

Eddie’s possessiveness gets the best of him and he ends up pulling you into his chest, leaning his forehead against yours as he grabs your microphone to sing with you. You smirk at him, licking your lips as his hand slides down to your lower back.

You are his and he is yours and he wants everyone to know.

After the concert, you and Eddie get pulled away by his and your new friends, they are still cheering you on, gushing about your performance. You smile as you watch Eddie being pulled into a hug by Dustin and his uncle.

Wayne gives you a hug, patting your shoulder as he compliments your voice. Your heart warms at his words and the smile he gives you. You feel grateful for his kindness and you are very happy for Eddie to have someone as amazing as Wayne in his life.

“Thank you so much,” you smile at him, “you must be so proud of Eddie.”

He nods, “I am,” he chuckles as he glances at his nephew, “boy was always a troublemaker but I knew he was special.”

“Yeah,” you smile, “he is very special.”

The smile on Wayne’s face grows even bigger when he sees the way your eyes soften as you watch Eddie.

“Hey Wayne, come here,” Eddie calls for him, “I gotta tell you something.”

“Yeah, it’s super important,” Dustin chuckles.

Wayne grabs his beer, excusing himself with a smile before he turns to Eddie.

“Hey Rockstar,” Robin speaks into your ear as she comes up behind you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, she pulls you back into her, “can I take you out on a date? Your performance did something to me.”

You giggle at her words, turning to look at her with a smirk on your face, “sure, where are you taking me?”

“My place,” she winks, flashing her pearly whites at you.

You raise your brows at her, giggling, “let’s go,” you purr jokingly as you reach for her hand.

“Whoa whoa,” Steve gasps as he interrupts your playful flirting, “why are you stealing her from me, Robin? Let me enjoy the groupie life for as long as I can,” he jokes, rolling his eyes.

“Sorry, Stevie,” you pout, “I found my new groupie.”

He clutches his heart, “ouch,” he mumbles, “and here I thought we had something special.”

You slap his arm, laughing, “shut up.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Lucas and Max walking towards you. You turn towards them, smiling at the teens. Before stopping in front of you, Lucas already throws his hands up, eyes flashing with excitement, “you were so amazing!” he exclaims before he grabs Max’s hand again.

“Yeah, you were so freaking cool,” Max smiles, “and I love your outfit, you look badass!”

“You two are so sweet,” you say, smiling at the both of them, “thank you so much, guys.”

Not only did you meet Steve and Robin, who quickly became some of your closest friends, you also met these two, their excitement whenever they see you makes you happy. Meeting them and the rest of the teens was one of your favorite parts about being coming to Hawkins, Eddie wasn’t lying when he told you about how amazing they all are.

“You guys should totally come to LA when we’re back there,” you smile.

“Oh my god,” Lucas mumbles, “we would love to, right?” he asks, grinning at Max.

Her eyes widen, “duh, of course we would love to come to LA.”

“Yeah, I would love that too,” Steve says, “but I still think that you should hire me as your stylist.”

Max and Robin laugh at his words, “you?”

You chuckle at the offended look on his face when he watches them eye him up and down, “uh yes, me,” he rolls his eyes, “who did you think went shopping with her?” he says, pointing to your outfit.

“Yeah, Steve actually gives some pretty good fashion advice.”

“Thank you,” he nods at you with a smile on his face.

You turn around when you feel someone staring at you. He is standing by the pool table, a cocky look on his face as he eyes you up and down, next to him no other than Chrissy causing your smile to fall.

You know who he is; Jason Carver. Blue eyes, blond hair, the mean look in his eyes and the expensive clothes are enough to give away his identity but then again, there must be ten Jason Carver’s in this town. Still, he stands out in the crowd, well, him and Chrissy stand out with their bright and fancy clothes, the disgusted looks on each of their faces as they look at the people around them.

A sudden surge of anger runs through you, he is the one who made Eddie’s life a living hell, both of them.

Your anger only intensifies when your eyes fall on Eddie, who is talking to a girl now. A bright smile is on his face, eyes flashing as he nods at whatever she is saying.

Your heart drops, a weird feeling settles in your chest as you eye them.

She is beautiful, short dark waves frame her face perfectly, her tanned skin looks soft under the dim light, she has tattoos on her right arm, ones that Eddie is touching now.

Oh god, what is that feeling in your chest and in your stomach?

He leans closer to her and it’s almost enough for you to leave, not wanting to see this. It was bad enough to find out about Chrissy, to see her kiss him, to see them hold hands but somehow this is worse.

Suddenly, his eyes meet yours, a surprised look takes over his face when he sees you staring at him with a sour expression. He winks at you, he fucking winks at you before he goes back to the conversation.

What the fuck?

She raises her hand towards his face, touching his curls. Irritation and anger bubbles inside of you and you can’t even stop the curse word from falling. You want nothing more than to rip her hands off of him and drag him away.

But he is letting her touch him and he even finds enjoyment in it, especially when his eyes find yours.

Eddie has never done anything like this before. Sure he talked to his fans, girls that wanted to be his groupies so bad but Eddie never showed interest in them like that, he never even let them get too close, the conversations were polite, about the band or other interests he might share with them and that’s all. He never gave you a reason to feel jealous, you couldn’t even feel true jealousy when it came to Chrissy but right now, you have that ugly feeling in your chest and it makes you realize that you don’t want to see him with another girl.

You down the drink that Steve ordered for you a while ago before you walk away from him and Robin, ignoring their confused glances as you walk towards Eddie. You push past a few people, giving them polite smiles.

“No, it looks good but I still think that you should cut your hair.” You hear her say, you want to roll your eyes and scoff.

Eddie’s eyes fall on you, his eyes light up.

“I think his hair looks amazing like this,” you swoop in, stopping next to Eddie, you look at her with a smile on your face.

Her eyes widen as they lock with yours, her lips part in surprise and she blinks for a few seconds before she opens her mouth to speak, “o-oh my god, hi,” she stutters, “I’m such a big fan, y-you’re amazing and you look amazing,” she says as she takes a step back to look at you, “I’m Tara.”

“Thanks,” you say, giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and that’s something that Eddie notices right away, he also notices the anger in your eyes and the jealousy.

The girl doesn’t notice anything though, her eyes are wide, staring at you in shock as though she didn’t just see you singing on stage.

Her giddiness would have been cute if you weren’t so distracted by the awful feelings inside of you.

“Tara was just telling me that my hair would look better if it was shorter,” Eddie says, looking down at you with a smirk.

You are jealous and that is something that fills him with excitement, not because he wants you to feel that way, you absolutely have no reason to feel that way but because this proves to him that you still want him, that you still have feelings for him, that you don’t want to see him with someone else because he belongs with you.

You shake your head, stepping closer to Eddie, “no, I love your hair like this.”

He notices the aggression behind your voice, the possessiveness in your eyes. It makes him crave you even more, it makes him want to kiss you right here, in front of all these people so he can show you that he only wants you, that he is all yours.

Eddie notices the way Tara is staring at you and it makes the situation all the more amusing.

He continues his conversation with her, fighting the smug look on his face, especially when you keep glaring daggers into him. You can hear your thoughts, you are mad, downright pissed, especially when she reaches out to touch his arm again.

“I always wanted to get a bat tattoo.”

“Oh, you should totally get one, it would look cool on you.”

You squint your eyes and Eddie almost bursts into laughter. Your jealousy is something so unnecessary but it gives him hope.

You still want him.

And he would be lying to himself if he said that your possessiveness isn’t hot, especially when you finally have enough and drag him away from the girl after coming up with some lame excuse. Eddie can’t even contain the smile on his face. Your hand is holding onto his as you pull him into the backstage room, not wasting a second to slam him against the wall after closing the door.

He almost moans at your action, especially when you press yourself against him.

“What the hell was that, Eddie?”

“What was what?” he smirks.

The angry pout on your face makes you look both cute and sexy.

“Why were you flirting with her?”

“I wasn’t–”

“I thought you said that you’re mine, that you belong to me,” you mumble, tilting your head as you look up at him with a frown on your face.

He stares into your eyes and at your lips, “but you said that you don’t want me anymore,” he mumbles.

You blink, sighing, you lean even closer to him.

“You are mine, Eddie.”

The hopeful and longing feeling has never been stronger than in this moment, especially when you stand on your tippy toes, brushing his long curls back, you latch your lips onto his neck the way he did to you the night at the roller rink.

His eyes flutter closed and a sigh leaves his lips, butterflies going crazy in his stomach as you begin to kiss his neck. His hands fall to your waist, grabbing you tightly and pulling you flush against him.

Out of all the things that he expected to happen tonight, this isn’t what he expected but god, does he love it.

“I didn’t like the way she was touching you,” you mumble against his skin.

He can’t even help but smirk, you are so clueless.

He moans when you find his sweet spot, kissing and sucking on his skin, you mark him up, wanting to show everyone who he belongs to and he will wear those marks proudly. He enjoys himself and the things you say to him as you continue to kiss him.

So long he has gone without your touch. Sleepless nights and restless days haunted him ever since the night he lost you. He has been thinking of you day and night, craving your touch and longing to feel you in his arms, to feel your lips on his skin, to feel your love.

He whimpers your name and you almost grow weak in the knees at the sound.

“Baby,” he whispers, running his hands up and down your back now, a smug smile making it’s way on his face, “as much as I love this, you gotta know something.”

“What?” you mumble as you pull away to face him.

“She was more into you than me,” he smirks, hands gripping your waist tighter so you don’t walk away.

He watches the way your brows furrow and he chuckles, “she’s like super gay, sweetheart.”

Your puffy lips part and realization flashes in your eyes, “oh,” you whisper as you start blushing, suddenly drawing back as you grow embarrassed and annoyed, “why didn’t you tell me?” you mumble angrily, slapping his arm lightly.

He bursts into laughter.

Rolling your eyes, you push his hands off of you, suddenly feeling like escaping the situation but Eddie has different plans, he grabs your hand and pulls you back, this time he slams you against the wall though, pinning both wrists against the wall.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He leans down, copying your actions, he moves your hair back and latches his lips onto your neck, kissing the spots above the hickey he gave you.

“Eddie–”

“You know, I’m flattered,” he whispers as he kisses down your neck until his lips are right beneath your collarbone, sucking on your skin, he leaves more visible hickeys, “I’m glad to know that you still want me.”

You whimper at his touches, throwing your head back against the wall, you let him touch you and kiss you again, even though everything in you screams at you to push him away.

The cold metal of his rings sends shivers down your spine as he runs his hands down your back, you mewl at the feeling of his hands squeezing your ass.

“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I’ve seen your ass in these pants,” he groans against your skin, “you’re so fucking sexy, baby.”

He shoves his leg between your thighs, pressing it against your center.

“Eddie,” you moan, “s-stop.”

“I’m yours, you already know that, sweetheart,” he whispers, “but I hope you know that you are mine, you’re not Steve’s or anyone else’s, you’re mine.”

“Am I?” you ask, whimpering when you feel him against your stomach.

“Mhmm, you are mine,” he says, pulling away from your chest, he stares at the marks he left behind in satisfaction before he faces you again, smirking at the lust filled eyes. Wrapping his hand around your throat, he stares at your lips. The urge to kiss you is so bad but he doesn’t, he leans in though, staring at your eyes and the way they widen when he gets closer to you. He hears the hitch in your breath and the way you tense up slightly.

His lips touch the corner of your mouth, placing an ever soft kiss there.

“I know you still want me.”

You look into his eyes. To someone else, he would look smug and arrogant and yes, he does but there is also softness in his eyes and hope.

“I know you miss me.”

Yes, you do.

“I miss you,” he whispers, “I miss being with you, I miss having you in my arms, I miss kissing you,” he says as he places another kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I miss hearing those pretty sounds you make when I touch you.”

No, no, no….

His words and his touches make you feel dizzy, you want to throw yourself at him, you want to kiss him, you want him to take you.

You can’t even help but stare at his lips and lean in a little. You want him so bad, you want him to kiss you until you're breathless, you miss him, you miss the feeling of him too.

Just as you’re about to say ‘fuck it’ and smash your lips against his, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, he pulls away, letting go of you and taking a few steps back, a smirk appearing on his face when he sees the irritated and confused look on your face.

“But you wanted me to stay away from you, so I’ll do that.”

Is he serious?

“If you want me to stay, just say so.”

But of course you won’t tell him to stay, not only are you confused and irritated, you are also really stubborn.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, shoulders slumping as you lean back against the wall.

Eddie chuckles, “you know where to find me,” he says before leaving the room, slamming the door shut and leaving you standing there.

He walks back into the crowded room, the smug look still lingering on his face. He finds Steve and Robin hanging out with Jeff and Gareth, he orders himself a drink before he joins them, all of them in the middle of a heated conversation about what Christmas movie is the best. Eddie doesn’t listen to them though, instead he keeps his eyes on the door in the dark hallway, waiting for you to come out of the room and when you do, he is not met with the expression he expected.

You look annoyed and frustrated as you push past a few people, coat in your hand as you make your way towards the entrance, you left your handbag behind but he can see the pack of cigarettes in your hand. He follows you with his eyes, chuckling when you turn around to look at him, your brattiness comes out when you roll your eyes at him again.

He drinks his beer, waving at you, he laughs when he sees you mumbling something under your breath before you walk out.

Placing the bottle on the table, he gets up to follow you but before he can even take a step towards the door, Wayne calls his name, waving him over to his friends, “come here, boy.”

Steve raises his head to look at Eddie, watching him leave when his eyes fall on Chrissy who rushes out of the bar, moments after you.

The fresh air cools you down a little. The cold kissing your warm cheeks. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath before you place the cigarette between your lips, a stupid habit you developed over the past few months. You don’t always smoke and probably go through only one or two packs a month.

Rummaging through your pocket, you look for the lighter, groaning in annoyance when you find none, you don’t pay mind to the door closing or the footsteps on the snowy ground, too busy hoping to find your trusted lighter in the other pocket.

“Hey.”

You freeze, the sound of her voice causing you to tense up. Taking the cigarette between your thumb and forefinger, you pull it away and turn to face her.

“Chrissy..”

Her brows are raised, a false smile on her face as she looks you up and down.

“Can I help you?”

She shrugs, smiling at you as her eyes meet yours.

She looks sweet, she sounds sweet, her smile is pretty, overall she looks like a pretty and kind girl but you can see right through her, though you can see how she was able to fool Eddie.

“I just wanna warn you.”

You can’t even help but chuckle at her words, at the faked concern in her eyes.

“Oh, about what?”

“About Eddie,” she says, taking a step towards you, “he is not who you think he is. You know, sweet and loyal– but you know that already, I mean, he cheated on me with you so..”

You frown at her words, wanting to defend him but you opt to hear her out first, curious about the things she has to say.

“Eddie may seem like a good guy–”

“He is a good guy,” you say, interrupting her.

She huffs a little but the polite look on her face remains.

“Is he? He cheated and he lied to both of us.”

Your eyes dart away from her, a sigh leaving your lips as you cross your arms over your chest.

“How long has he kept me a secret, y/n?” she asks, walking even closer to you, “all this time, right?”

Your clenched jaw and the annoyed look in your eyes gives her the answer that she’s waiting for.

“He never told you anything about me because he knew that you wouldn’t want him if he did,” she shrugs, “he used you.”

“Did he?” you ask, eyes meeting her’s again.

She nods, “yeah, I mean why else would he want you to join the band?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, dropping your arms, you smile at her, “you tell me, he was your boyfriend.”

She squints her eyes and tilts her head.

“He knew who you were, he knew who your dad was. I mean, did you really believe him when he told you that he didn’t know you? His uncle loves your dad’s music and as far as I remember, you were in magazines before you even joined the band, so do you really think that Eddie hasn’t seen you before?”

Her words cut deep but you don’t show it, the amused smile on your face irritates her and you can see it as the nice girl facade begins to crumble.

You swallow harshly, blinking as you stare into her cold eyes. You would be lying if you said that her words didn’t make your stomach drop a little.

She is getting under your skin and she knows it.

“Eddie called me after he met you, he told me how he hit the ‘jackpot’,” she chuckles in satisfaction, “he knew that he would finally get what he always wanted with you by his side.”

When Steve told you about her, he didn’t leave out her special ability to lie and yet, you easily believe her, not because you would ever trust her but because those things lingered in the back of your mind ever since that night in Cincinnati.

“And look, he did get it all. The album, the fame, the tour, the money and that’s all thanks to you. He needed you. I mean thanks to you, he isn’t some useless freak anymore.”

Your breathing quickens, heart racing in your chest as you stare at her.

“You are pretty, y/n,” she smiles, “and your dad is– I’m sorry, was famous, that’s why people like you so much, that’s why he likes you so much but Eddie rarely ever sticks to one girl as you can tell. He will grow sick of you and once that happens, he will run the way he always does.”

‘Don’t believe her, believe him’ you tell yourself, you know what she is trying to do. She is trying to manipulate her, the way she manipulated him before.

You push the pain away, the insecurities and the doubt.

You think about the things Steve told you about Chrissy, about Eddie and her, about their relationship. How she lied to him, how she treated him, how she cheated and manipulated him all these years.

Anger rushes through you, she sabotaged her own relationship and now she is trying to sabotage you and Eddie.

“You know what, Chrissy?”

She tilts her head, giving you another one of her sweet smiles.

Neither of you notice the person walking out of the bar, both too focused on each other.

“Eddie is the sweetest person I know, the best person I’ve ever met and yeah, what he did wasn’t right and I won’t excuse that but he should’ve left your sorry ass a long time ago. You never deserved him. He is way too good for you, he was always way too good for you. You used him, you manipulated him, you treated him like shit and cheated on him and now you’re standing here in front of me and have the nerve to act like the victim? You’re an awful person, Chrissy. If you would’ve treated him right, he would’ve never done this to you, he wouldn’t leave, he wouldn’t lie and he certainly wouldn’t cheat. This is all on you, ” you say angrily, shaking your head at her, “You’re a fucking idiot, Chrissy.”

Her lips part and she stares at you in both shock and anger.

“I’m an idiot?” she scoffs, pointing to herself.

“Yeah,” you nod, “I know he gave everything he could, his love, his heart, I mean he wrote songs for you, you don’t just write them about anyone, he loved you and you broke his heart.”

You search for the guilt and the regret in her eyes and maybe there is some, somewhere behind all the anger.

“He was always happy with me.”

You can’t even stop the laugh from escaping. Shaking your head, you look behind her, finally noticing Steve, who looks between the two of you with a concerned look on his face.

“Oh, is that so?” you ask, looking back at her, “then why did he leave?”

Your words irritate her and you can see it clearly, it only makes you want to throw more fuel into the fire.

“If he was so happy with you, why did he run away from you?”

She frowns and crosses her arms, huffing as she looks away.

“If he was so happy with you, then why was he so desperate for me? Why did he feel the need to come crawling into my bed?”

She clenches her jaw, she is bouncing her leg, cheeks growing red from the anger.

“Chrissy?”

Three pairs of eyes land on the blond man as he steps out into the cold as well. He furrows his brows as he finds Steve standing by the door, he sizes him up before he turns to look at her, eyes moving between the two of you.

“Everything okay?” he mumbles, walking towards her.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her big eyes and pouty lips making her look vulnerable. She steps towards him, taking his hand.

You roll your eyes, scoffing at the innocent act of hers. Stepping away from her, you make your way towards Steve.

“Did you know that Eddie used to sell drugs?”

You halt in your tracks, eying Steve for a moment, he shakes his head at you, begging with his eyes to ignore her words but you still whirled back around.

Chrissy stares at you with a look in her eyes that you should probably be scared of.

You shrug, “yeah, so?”

“He also sold heroin and cocaine.”

Your mouth twists and shivers run down your spine, you know exactly where this is going.

“Did you know that he uses it too?” she asks, tilting her head, “go to his trailer right now, you’ll find some.”

No…

“He used to snort cocaine like every night.”

“Chrissy,” Steve warns.

“Do you really wanna be with someone like that? Someone like your dad?”

Your blood runs cold, you freeze and your eyes widen as you stare at her in confusion.

“You really loved your dad, didn’t you?” she asks, pouting, “it must have been so hard for you to find him dead on the bathroom floor with that disgusting needle sticking in his skin.”

All color drained out of your face the moment those words left her lips, angry tears well up in your eyes.

“That’s enough,” you hear Steve say as he walks towards you, he looks at you in concern, seeing the angry and pained look in your eyes, “let’s go, y/n,” he whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder but you don’t move, you hold your chin up high and raise your brows, urging her to continue.

“You will find Eddie just like you found him. Are you gonna survive that a second time?"

Steve could see the way her words hit you. He doesn’t know whether you want to scream or to cry but it breaks his heart to see you like this.

“Leave her alone, Chrissy,” Jason mumbles, rolling his eyes as he tugs at her hand, “let them ruin each other, that trailer trash finally found himself a princess.”

She chuckles at his words.

“Dude,” Steve warns, glaring at the former jock, “shut the hell up.”

“You wanna say something to me, King Steve?” he says mockingly, “you think I’m scared of you?”

“You should be,” you mutter, pushing away all the shock and pain, “your little girlfriend over here has been trying to fuck him for the past two years, all he has to do is whistle and she’ll come running like a dog.”

Chrissy gasps at your words but he only frowns at you.

Steve snorts but covers it up with a cough.

“You’re Jason, right?” you ask, walking towards the blond.

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take your girlfriend and get the fuck out of here, you clearly don’t belong here,” you mutter angrily as you step closer to him, eyeing his white button down beneath the black coat, “this isn’t some concert sponsored by your shitty church.”

He grins at you, irritating you further.

“Oh yeah, I just wanted to see what that freak made out of his life, didn’t think he would ever make it out of the trash park, I think he fit in there pretty well. That piece of garbage–”

Your fist meets his face before he can even finish his sentence.

“Fucking asshole.”

He grunts in pain as he stumbles back, Chrissy shrieks as she rushes to his side, “Jason!”

He pushes her hand away, holding his hand in front of his eye, “you crazy bitch!”

Another fist meets his face but this time it isn’t yours, it’s Eddie’s.

If it wasn’t for Chrissy holding him up, he would’ve dropped to the ground. He clutches his nose, grunting and groaning in pain.

“You wanna say that again, Carver?”

Your heart begins to pound in your chest as you look at Eddie, who stares at the blond in anger. Jason pushes Chrissy away about to move towards Eddie.

Steve grabs your waist and pulls you back, knowing that you will jump in front of Eddie, “that’s enough, troublemaker,” he mumbles as he holds you against him.

Chrissy jumps in between both men, placing her hands on Jason’s chest, “Jason, stop! Let’s just go, you’re bleeding already!”

He tries to push her away but she doesn’t budge, “please.”

“Yeah, listen to your girlfriend, Jason,” Eddie spits.

The tension is high and the anger is all around you as you all stare each other down.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Eddie yells at him.

Jason scoffs, “fucking prick,” he mumbles.

Chrissy looks back to you, intense and angry eyes staring at you.

“You’re gonna regret that.”

“Just fuck off, Chrissy,” you mumble.

She rolls her eyes, scoffing at you and Eddie before she leaves with Jason.

“Jesus,” Steve mumbles, finally letting go of you, “are you okay?” he asks with a soft tone in his voice.

Eddie turns to you as well, rushing towards you, his concerned eyes are the first thing you see when you look at his face, he grabs your hand, checking your knuckles for any injuries but you pull your hand away and look down, “I’m fine.”

You take a deep breath and close your eyes, the moment you feel yourself relaxing. Your tears come back, threatening to spill.

Steve whispers your name, still staring down at you in worry. What Chrissy said about your dad was true, he saw it in your eyes when she said it.

“W-What happened?” Eddie asks as he looks between you and him.

Steve avoids his eyes, not knowing what to say.

Your breathing quickens, eyes burning as you open them.

How does she know?

“C-Can someone take me home, please?” you asked brokenly.

Both men stare at you in concern and sadness, wanting nothing more than to pull you into a hug.

Eddie glances at Steve who gives him a sad smile and a look that tells him; she needs you now.

“I’ll walk you home, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers.

“Do you want me to drive you?”

Eddie shakes his head, “no, it’s fine, the motel isn’t that far away.”

“Yeah,” you say, raising your head to look at Steve, you try to give him a smile, “see you tomorrow?”

He nods, taking your hand, he squeezes it softly, “yeah, call me later if you need me, okay?”

Your gaze softens, squeezing his hand back, you smile, “okay, good night, Stevie.”

“Good night, y/n,” he whispers, pulling you closer, he kisses the top of your head, “I’m sorry about what happened.”

“It’s okay, I’ll be okay.”

Your words worry Eddie even more, he frowns, heart aching in his chest when he sees the glint of sadness in your eyes. He reaches for your hand after you pull away from Steve.

The first five minutes of your walk are spent in silence. You don’t speak up and neither does he, despite the concern and the anger he still feels as he thinks of Chrissy and Jason.

You sniffle, trying to keep the tears from spilling. You look ahead, watching the snow fall, painting everything even whiter than before. The cold wind is harsh and it only makes your tears well up even more.

A hollow feeling settles inside of you.

Images of your dad laying dead on the bathroom floor are back in your mind, images you always try to push out, you don’t want to think about it, you hate thinking about it.

You feel nauseous and scared when you think of Eddie being in his place.

Was she telling you the truth?

Eddie never gave any signs that he was using drugs. He never wiped his nose after leaving the bathroom, he never sneaked away, his pupils looked normal, his skin was clean, his behavior was normal and yet, her words left you feeling sick and anxious.

You can’t do this.

You can’t lose him.

You can’t go through this again.

“I can’t do this.”

You stop walking and let go of his hand. Eddie halts in his tracks, looking down at your hand before he glances at you, “w-what?”

Your bottom lip quivers. You don’t look up at him, you can’t.

“I can’t do this again,” you mumble.

Your hands are shaking, not from the cold but from the fear. His heart breaks all over when he sees how broken and scared you look. Rushing towards you, he cups your cheeks, “what are you talking about?” he whispers as he tries to get you to look into his eyes.

“I can’t stay in the band.”

His stomach drops, eyes flashing with fear, “what?”

Tears brimmed your eyes as you finally looked up at him, “are you using drugs?”

You search for the truth in his eyes but you only find shock and confusion.

“I– what?”

tagging mutuals and friends! @prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @yearwalker96

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things angst #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

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elsfleur · 11 months

Text

⋆·˚ ༘ * COOL ABOUT IT - PART TWO

ellie williams x reader

summary: it was an odd thing to enjoy your work, but with a passion for music and a fling with your coworker the days at the record store seemed bright, until of course you meet her girlfriend.

content warning: i guess it’s angsty, very filthy smut with sub!ellie and dom!reader, mentions of cheating and bad self image, implies of degradation, mentions of masturbation

word count: 1,749 and previous part here

📼 ʾ ⠀

she would come to you in dreams, pale green eyes pointed at you like a weapon, body soft as a menace, reach out towards your face and in tenderness you’d surrender as though you never meant to have walked away in the first place. you’d wake up panting the nights you’d forgive her, you’d shower away the disgust the nights you thought to have felt her tongue– traitor was a dramatic word, but your heart claimed it as ellie’s synonym.

work had become insufferable but you grew into an astoundingly good employee, never at the break room as to not encourage ellie into a conversation, constantly roaming around and chatting up clients with entire discography conversations going as far as escorting them to their car in odd fashion, you appeared sparkling and every glance of your shine that reached ellie’s senses immediately sent her skin on fire. she had been miserable and lazy, escaping from her thoughts only through deafening music as to drown out the distance between you, you too a constant in her nightly affairs, forgiving, beautiful, near.

she melted into the couch imagining it your embrace, let the melody transport her into better times, hated herself for replacing her songs with your laugh as a favourite track, for indulging in temptation through entirely wrong means. she thought herself a symptom of disease, wreckening plague in the lives of those she cherished that once established could only widespread devastation. the idea that perhaps keeping you casual and secret would make it unknown to the universe and therefore not give it the power to ruin it was stupid, once she fully thought it out, but it had been comforting. allowing your affection to fill in the broken cracks of her being as though glueing them together was a sensation she knew selfishly not deserved but craved as a drug addict. you thought she called you her angel as a bit, but she felt it pulsing through her veins.

tears prickled her eyes for the eleventh time that shift, heavy metal not enough. turning the volume down her body rolled sideways and she begged it into slumber for moments of peace.

“wake the fuck up williams we’re mid shift” you cursed taking hold of her headphones and tossing them aside rather agressively, the girl immediately stood up overwhelmed, a scoff being her immediate response to your turned back heading out the room.

“what the fuck? you haven’t spoken to me for fucking weeks those are the first words you say to me since you left this place before i could even explain anything and you just go walking away again?”

“jesus christ, i’m sorry someone woke up cranky from their midday nap but what the fuck else do you even want me to say? oh right i’m sorry, how about how’s your girlfriend?”

“we broke up” ellie stated simply before interruption.

“great! and i suppose you want me to run into your arms straight into a sunset beach now while it rains unicorns and rainbows, isn’t that right?”

“oh my god you are the most insufferable human being i have ever met! i fucking hate you and i hate the way every time we walk to work together you have to stop and pick out a flower at every single bush we walk by and if i don’t put it behind my ear your feelings gets hurt and you have the goofiest smile making fun of me, and i hate the stupid witchy herbs you make me ruin my weed with that makes it taste so girly and like you and i hate the way my mouth memorized your fucking lipgloss to the point i can’t do anything without feeling you on my lips and it drives me fucking insane, i hate your frilly little love songs that only start sounding not so bad by the hundredth listen and i hate that i fucking know the lyrics to taylor swift now and you made me relate to them! i hate your smile and i hate that fruity perfume you wear that always gets stuck to my clothes and i hate the way you looked at me like i’m a good person to the point i almost believed you for a second and and i hate your lame ass sense of humour and how you’re the only one who laughs at my fucking jokes and god worst of all i hate the way i can’t even begin to hate you at all!”

you opened your mouth to reply though not quite sure what words would escape you, but she was quicker, pacing around and heightening her tone in complete desperation that cracked knuckles in soothing.

“no and you know what? yes i fucked up and i cheated on my three year relationship but we were fucking done! we have been done for years! and we haven’t been more done since the day i first laid eyes on you and thought this girl is going to fucking ruin my life! i am worse than a cheater, yes, i’m a coward! because guess what angel, it has always been you. god, it probably has been you since before i even knew you existed and you don’t understand how insane it is to say this because you’re the one who believes the whole soulmate bullshit! i’m a mess and i’m fucked up and i’m too much and still not enough and-“

“ellie” you called out, her eyes finally meeting your own as you felt immersed in the same light green dreams you have ferociously tried to escape from, the pink lips you knew so intimately quivering at your stare as though taunting you to kiss its fear away, you had heard enough for an answer “kneel.”

“what, do you want me to beg for your forgiveness now?” ellie asked ironic though her legs were compliant, lowering themselves till she fell on her knees, running a hand through her messy hair to keep it from falling on her face staring up at you in clear shot.

“take off your shirt” you demanded, watching intently as she lifted up her arms to remove the fabric obeying though deeply confused, her cheeks flushing red with the attention, eyes drifting everywhere except for your face until your hand found the edge of her chin and forced it up to meet your eye “you’ve done enough talking”

“i fucking hate that you lied to me” you started impossibly close to her face “i hate the way you ruined this job for me, i hate that i can’t look at you without feeling sick with desire like a desperate whore pulsating at flashes of skin, i hate that i’m so used to moaning your name that you may aswell have ruined sex for me aswell, and i fucking hate how your little girlfriend kissed you infront of me and doesn’t even know your mouth was sucking on me minutes earlier, take off your pants”

she slowly rose up to detach herself from the jeans squeezing her figure, only to be pushed back down once fully rid of them back onto the ground, you weren’t finished.

“i hate that i can see how wet you are right now, i hate that you have made it so i feel disgusted to touch you, i hate that i still want to do it so fucking bad as if your moans in my ear would erase your dumb mistakes from my memory. just a question, were you fucking her when you were with me too? nevermind that’s silly, of course you were, unless you spent six months making her believe you have gone celibate-“

ellie shook her head hard, gulping down “n-no i didn’t, i told you angel it was a façade relationship all i wanted-“

“shut up. touch yourself” you ordered as she slid a hand under her underwear, lightly rubbing on her clit and silencing own whimpers through biting down her lip “i hate that i have to ask myself if she made you feel good like i did, if she knows your whole dominant archetype is actually just hiding a brat who wanted to be ordered around and fucked so bad, right els? did she get you on her knees for her too, touching yourself to the thought of her before she even took off her clothes? or am i just special?”

“angel” ellie moaned out, inserting a finger into herself.

“does she know about the freckles on your hipbone that look like the gemini constellation? did she see the bite mark i left there last time we fucked? does she know you like it when i spell my name on your pussy with my tongue, has she tried it? do you remember what it feels like to be inside me as opposed to her, remember begging to add more fingers so you could feel my walls closing in on you, remember staying inside even after i came because you wanted to feel the warmth around you, was she warm for you, ellie?” you asked, warm breath hitting her face like a makeout.

“angel, please” she begged embarrassingly.

“please what? use your fucking words since you wanted to have the last one so fucking bad”

“please fuck me” ellie moaned out arching her back with a gasp as you easily slid one of your own fingers inside her alongside hers, the sounds of wetness with your every thrust bordering filthy.

“i hate that i can’t fucking stop dreaming about you, that you’re so fucking wet for me you’re drenched, that i’m thinking after all this making me an idiot i shouldn’t let you cum, how’s that?” you asked curling your fingers inside her which lead to a near pornographic moan escaping past her lips and an aggressive head shook to your words “i hate your stupid lake eyes and how they shine like galaxies, i hate the way you hold my hand to cross the street because you know i get distracted, i hate the way you effortlessly played my favourite song on the guitar although you claimed before to not like it, i hate how badly i want to fuck the attitude out of you until my heart stops hurting about this”

“i’m sorry, my angel, i’m so sorry” she croaked out whimpering, swaying her hips for friction with your fingers every movement making it harder to keep a cleared mind, dizzy in desire “fuck, i’m here now please please let me show you i can be good i want to be yours”

“want?” you chuckled removing your fingers and shoving them by her mouth so she’d taste herself on them, sucking slowly “you are mine, ellie. i just haven’t decided if i’m yours”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #ellie x fem reader #lesbian #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #elsfleur

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stevie-petey · 5 months

Text

episode four: the body

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal. “Hey! Henderson!” “Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you. His unexpected shouting causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you. “Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

summary: you basically have a "no babe don't cry over ur dead brother ur so sexy" moment with jonathan, hopper plays mr love doctor (cute date idea: coffin shopping), and somehow nancy wheeler makes you realize that you're a horrible babysitter and an even bigger idiot. meanwhile: steve harrington is frustratingly charming.

rating: general but plenty of cursing as usual.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 8k

before you swing in: hello ! happy eve of a spending time with loved ones, however ya choose to celebrate or not celebrate and all that jazz. i hope y'all are well and doing okay :) a LOT happens in this chapter, so buckle up. so many feelings and revelations my god. also this chapter is one i really loved writing purely because i got to explore more of steve and reader so ,,, ya welcome ! (hopefully i was able to clear up jonathans thoughts and how he processes, i really want it to come across as someone hurt and overwhelmed rather than just him being cranky lmao). anyways, enjoy !!

It’s a quiet morning.

You roll over, the sunlight streaming through your curtains, and for a moment you forget. It’s a blissful moment, sweet naivety that strokes your cheek and coaxes your eyes open. As you throw your arms over your head and stretch, last night’s events haven’t caught up to you quite yet.

Then you feel Jonathan’s body next to yours and for a moment you’re confused. He never sleeps in your bed whenever he spends the night, being ever the gentleman. No matter how many times you offer, he always insists on respecting your mother’s wishes and sleeping on the giant beanbag chair within your room, and it always makes your heart warm.

Your mother had specifically bought the beanbag for Jonathan when you were thirteen. He had been spending more and more nights at your home, sneaking in through your window to avoid his parents fighting. At first he would simply fall asleep on your carpet, despite your many reassurances that he could sleep in your bed, so when your mom unexpectedly barged into your room one morning and saw him lying face down on the ground, she freaked.

Once you had explained everything to her (with Jonathan’s permission), she had shoved you guys into her car, dropped him off at his house, and then found the beanbag at a garage sale for $10.

“This way, he’ll have a place to sleep that’s soft and cozy, away from my young daughter,” she had said during the drive home. You had covered your face in embarrassment at her implication, but you were also incredibly proud to call her your mom at that moment. She may be overbearing at times, but she was the kindest woman you’ve ever met.

You rub your eyes and glance at the bean bag that sits between your bed and wall, its dusty blue color almost glowing in the early morning light. Then you glance at Jonathan, who has woken up before you, and notice the redness in his eyes and the dark circles now darker than ever.

Then it all comes rushing back to you.

Will’s body in the quarry.

Holding your brother as he mourned his friend.

El, so quiet and shy and sweet, running away after your cruel dismissal.

Jonathan showing up to your window hours later, broken and devastated.

Then, late into the night, the two of you falling asleep, side by side in your bed, both needing each other more than ever before.

The two of you get ready without saying anything. You hand Jonathan some spare clothes of his that you keep in a drawer before giving him some space as you go and take a shower. You spend longer than usual getting ready, but you pay no attention to the clock. There’s no way you’re going to school today. You’re not leaving Jonathan alone for even a second.

Jonathan finishes getting ready before you do and waits in your room. Neither of you have said anything yet, last night being too fresh in your memories, but words aren’t needed between the two of you.

You take his hand and lead him into your kitchen and wordlessly hand him a banana. He stares at you, and you stare back, silently challenging him to decline the food. He needs to eat. You’ve noticed how thin he’s gotten with everything happening.

He sighs, knowing he won’t win this fight, and takes a bite out of the banana in a mocking manner, but you’re just relieved he’s eating.

You grab your own breakfast before writing a note for your mom, informing her that you’ll be with Jonathan today and promising to make up any missed assignments as soon as you can. Then you quietly go into Dustin’s room to check up on him, but his bed is empty. You glance at his alarm clock and note the early hour, he doesn’t normally leave for school for another thirty minutes, which makes you frown.

Where the hell did the kid run off to?

An uneasy feeling settles over you, but you don’t have time to question anything. Knowing Dustin, he ran off to school earlier than usual to see his friends and distract himself from last night. While your mom offered you both to stay home for the rest of the week due to Will’s death, neither of you have ever been good at staying put and dealing with your emotions.

Wherever your brother is, you know he needs his space.

Once everything is settled, you join Jonathan in his car and drive to his place. While he never explicitly asked you to this morning, you know that you’re going to his house with him to help him deal with his mother and the funeral preparations.

He doesn’t have to ask, and you don’t have to tell him that you’ll help.

You both just know.

About halfway to his place, Jonathan finally speaks.

“The cops say that Will crashed his bike and fell into the quarry,”

“Jonathan, we don’t have to talk about it right now-”

“My mom doesn’t believe that he’s dead. She-she insists that he’s in the walls, that he can speak through-through… Christmas lights.”

His voice shakes as he speaks, and you can’t tell if it’s due to grief or anger.

“Will is dead and my mom chooses to believe that there’s some monster in our walls that took him.”

“A monster?” you think about El and her powers and the fear on the boys’ faces when she pulled out the Demogorgon piece. Then you remember the other night at the Byers’ home when Joyce came running outside as the lights were flickering wildly. Her fear had been genuine.

“A fucking monster that’s hiding in our walls. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t listen, Y/N. I tried talking to her, to calm her down, but she just…” His words fade off, and he clenches his jaw as tightens his hands around the steering wheel.

You’re not sure what to say. It’s a tough situation, a fucking heartbreaking one, and it’s all so unfair. Jonathan needs his mom, but his mom needs Will.

You rest your hand behind his head and allow your fingers to rub circles against his skin. He leans into your touch, and for now this is all you can do.

The state of the Byers’ home has only gotten worse since the last time you were there. There’s now letters painted on the wall and string lights placed all throughout the house. There’s also clothes in random corners and trash thrown around.

Jonathan had been staying in this house alone, watching his mother spiral. Your stomach twists with guilt.

You should’ve been there more for him, but instead you allowed your petty need to help everyone distract you from what’s important.

Joyce is passed out on the couch with an ax clutched between her hands, which breaks your heart even more. Jonathan walks over to wake her up and you give the two of them some privacy as you head into the kitchen to make Joyce some breakfast.

Their fridge is barren, but you aren’t surprised. You make do with the few eggs you find and get to work; it isn’t much, but it’ll have to do. As you prepare breakfast, you notice a stack of Will’s drawings on the kitchen table, which causes you to gag with remorse.

There’s still so much of Will within these walls, his entire childhood still locked inside, untouched, and yet the house lacks his presence.

He’s gone.

–

You wait with Hopper in the morgue waiting room, nervously tapping your foot and frantically trying to distract yourself with a comic. The words blur together in your head and the images float around. You can’t focus on anything. For once, Spidey’s quips and banter can’t distract you from reality.

Not only are you incredibly worried for Joyce and Jonathan, but the thought of Will’s body being a wall away from you sends chills down your spine. You can’t imagine what’s happening behind the doors, and you’re secretly relieved that you’ll never know.

“What’s taking so long?” Hopper’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

You put your comic down and listen, figuring that it’s best if you’re caught up on everything so that you can store away any useful information for later.

The front desk lady sighs. “Well, everything’s been a bit chaotic around here without Gary.”

This catches Hopper’s attention. “Without Gary?”

“I thought you knew. Those men from State, they… they sent Gary home last night.”

Now this catches your attention. Why would the State replace the town’s coroner?

“So who did the autopsy?”

“Someone from State.”

Hopper looks at you, almost as if to ask if you’re also hearing this, and you give him a slight nod. It’s odd, really damn odd.

“Why would they send someone for a little boy?” You ask Hopper, but he only shakes his head in response.

In the back of your mind, you think about what El had warned you of. The bad men, the people she has to hide from… it didn’t make sense at the time, but now…

Your thoughts are cut off as Jonathan runs out the door, his hand over his mouth, and you immediately get up to help him outside. He throws up against the wall outside, and you wince at the smell. You’ve never been good with people getting sick, but Jonathan needs you right now, so you rub soothing circles on his back as he throws up. Once he’s done, you head back inside and wait for Joyce.

You offer Jonathan a tissue before coaxing him to rest his head on your shoulder. Having nothing else to do, yet urgently wanting to help, you begin to read him some panels from your comic. He doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a sign to keep going. Your voice is hoarse from all your crying, but you read aloud anyways.

Hopper watches your interaction with a small interest. You don’t notice his curious eyes and the way they seem to glint with sincerity. In his eyes, the two of you will get together soon enough.

After a couple minutes, Hopper finally asks Jonathan how Joyce is holding up. The boy straightens up, but grabs your hand to steady himself, and responds as best as he can. He explains the lights, the letters on the wall, everything.

“She’s had anxiety problems in the past, but this…? I don’t know.” He takes a shaky breath, and you draw reassuring patterns on the back of his hand. “I’m worried it could be… god, I don’t know.”

“She’s grieving,” you remind him, and he nods.

“Yeah, she’s grieving, but she’ll be okay. We’ll be okay; my mom, she’s tough.”

“Like Spider-Man,” you say, though you don’t really mean to. You’re tired and the words just slip out, but Jonathan begins to laugh.

“Yeah, like Spider-Man, you’re right. Thanks, bug.”

“Anytime, bee.”

Jonathan smiles at you, still softly laughing, and it’s then that you realize. He hasn’t laughed in days, he’s hardly even smiled, and yet here he is, smiling at the stupid nickname you gave him and laughing at the stupid joke you didn’t even mean to say; you realize you’d do anything to get him to laugh again, to give you that smile that he’s only ever reserved for you. He squeezes your hand and his eyes shine for a moment with a familiar warmness that has always made you weak.

It hits you like a cold, cruel wave on a harsh winter day.

You’re in love with Jonathan.

Fuck.

It’s horrible timing, and you feel sick with guilt for realizing that you love your best friend merely hours after his brother has died, but now it’s all you can think about.

You love him, you love him more than you’ve ever loved anything before, but you can’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, and you don’t have the time.

You’re thankful when Hopper begins to talk again, reiterating that Joyce is tough, so that you have the time to process your newfound feelings.

Then Joyce comes crashing through the door, screaming about how whatever is in the other room isn’t Will, ignoring everyone who tells her to calm down. Both you and Jonathan stand up to calm her down, your comic dropping to the ground in the process, but she doesn’t listen and instead runs outside.

“Mom!” Jonathan follows after her.

You sigh and tuck your hair behind your ears before picking up the comic. You know that Jonathan needs to be alone with Joyce right now, give them some privacy, it’s a personal matter. More personal than anything else, and yet you also selfishly don’t want to be near him for a few moments so you can collect yourself as well.

As you’re gathering your things, Hopper clears his throat.

“Do you love him?”

You freeze, having not expected such a personal question. You’ve only just realized your feelings for him, how the hell has Hopper already figured it out? “What does it matter? His brother is dead and his mom is losing it.”

Hopper rubs his hand over his face, giving you a warning look. “But do you love the kid?”

It’s the way he says it, like it means life or death, that has you respond, “I do.”

“Take care of him, then.” He looks you in the eyes as he says it, urging you to understand the weight of his words, and you do.

You’ve heard about how his daughter had died and his wife divorced him soon after. They’d only ever been rumors to you, but now you know that they’re true. He’s telling you to take care of Jonathan, that your love for him means that you have to take care of him in a way that no one else can.

In a way, you suppose that you and Hopper aren’t so different after all, and you gain a new sense of respect for the man.

You swallow deeply and nod at him before excusing yourself to follow after Jonathan and Joyce.

–

The mother and son in question are a few blocks down the street, Joyce waving her son away as he follows her with the car.

You sigh.

This day definitely sucks.

Running up to them is a pain in the ass, honestly. You get that you gave them some privacy, but damn. Did Jonathan seriously have to take the car as well?

When you finally catch up, he’s parking. “Hey, what are you-”

He doesn’t spare you a glance as he turns the engine off and runs after his mom.

“Seriously?” You groan, clutching at a stitch in your side from running. Usually you’re a great runner, actually choosing to go for a run whenever you’re particularly stressed out or anxious. However with the shitshow that this week has been, you haven’t gone on your morning run in a while and you’re starting to feel the effects of being out of practice.

Joyce, being surprisingly fast, is hard to catch up with, but you do your best as Jonathan sprints ahead of you. When he finally reaches her, he grabs at her jacket with a determined look in his eyes.

You hang back, now regretting the fact that you left the coroner’s office in the first place.

“Mom, stop!”

“Just go home, Jonathan.”

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.”

“Shut down… what-” The confusion in Joyce’s eyes is enough to make you feel Jonathan’s frustration as well. You feel for the woman, you really do, but she has another son to worry about. Jonathan is still here, he’s lost his own baby brother, he needs his mom now more than ever.

But Joyce, too lost in her own grief and desperation, can’t see that.

“We have to deal with this, mom. We have to deal with the funeral!” You’ve never heard Jonathan raise his voice at his mom before, but after days of begging for her attention, you’re proud of him for defending himself.

The word “funeral” seems to snap Joyce out of her daze and once again she goes on her tangent about how Will’s body isn’t really back at the morgue, that he’s still alive, and Jonathan’s anger in his voice makes you ache.

As he and his mom continue to yell at one another, a few nosy people in the town area stand and watch. They whisper to each other, no doubt about how Will’s death has made Joyce Byers crazy, and you kick a few rocks at them.

“Fuck off! At least pretend that you aren’t a bunch of nosy assholes like most decent people do.” A woman sneers at you, but you wave your arms above your head, “Oh! Scary! Get fucked!”

Eventually they do as they’re told and walk away from the screaming mother and son, which pleases you.

You really hope that random lady wasn’t a patron of Bookstrordinary though.

“Yeah, well, while you’re talking to the lights, Y/N and I will be planning a funeral for Will!” Jonathan’s voice is laced with bitterness as he screams at his mother, breaking your heart even more. “I’m not letting him sit in that freezer another day!”

Joyce storms off, but you notice that her shoulders shake with tears as she leaves.

It’s such a devastating situation, and while you’re also frustrated with the way she’s been treating Jonathan, you also know that maybe her craziness isn’t exactly “crazy”. El is still out there, even if you’re not sure where, and you think about how she was able to control the comic book and the game pieces. The static electricity you felt in the air when she used her powers, the same static you felt at the Byers’ home a few nights ago when Joyce came running outside with the lights flashing and Will’s song playing on the radio.

But then you think about how El promised that Will was alive.

He isn’t; you see his dead body every time you close your eyes.

So really, what is there to believe?

Lost in thought, you don’t notice Jonathan walking towards you until he grasps at your arm and flings you along back to the car with him. He’s breathing heavily and you notice that he’s shaking. He’s in no condition to drive.

As you near the car you quickly reach around and grab his keys from his pocket before running over to the driver’s side and throwing yourself into the seat. Jonathan hates when you drive the car, not because you’re a bad driver, but because some part of him truly believes it’s impolite to make a girl drive.

As cute as you think his chivalry is, today you couldn’t give more of a damn.

Jonathan stands outside your door. “Y/N-”

“Nope, no time to argue, Byers. Get in.”

“But-”

“In.”

He does as he’s told, albeit with some attitude, but eventually the two of you are off. Without having to ask, you drive to the local funeral home. While you and Jonathan are similar in many ways, the one thing that pulls you together is planning. You both cling onto the stability that planning provides, and right now Jonathan is clinging onto his responsibilities for Will’s funeral.

Like he told his mom earlier, you and him have a funeral to plan.

The funeral home is closer to the edge of Hawkins, so the drive is a longer one. Along the way Jonathan slowly begins to calm down, untensing his shoulders and releasing his clenched jaw. You let him take all the time he needs, thankful that for now you have some time to yourself to reflect over today’s revelation.

You love Jonathan.

Those three words are heavy within your chest, and you almost don’t want to think about them, but you know that sooner or later you’ll have to. You glance at Jonathan, the late fall sun casts a warm glow on his face that for a brief moment brings back the boy you knew only a week ago, before everything changed. Then he turns to face you and you see the red in his eyes, his cheeks sunken in, and you know that you don’t have the time to unravel whatever you feel for him.

He needs his best friend right now.

Jonathan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, his voice cracking a bit from disuse. “Can we talk about yesterday?”

You cast him a quick glance. “Yesterday?”

“Our… our fight, I guess.”

“Oh,” you shift your hands on the steering wheel, now suddenly painfully aware of the silence within the car. “We don’t have to right now, bee. We should be focusing on the funeral arrangements.”

Your voice catches on the word “funeral”, it still hasn’t sunk in yet that Will is really gone.

“Bug, for the past eighteen hours all I’ve been thinking about is Will,” he takes a shaky breath and you gently place a hand on his, encouraging him to keep talking, “but when I’m not thinking about him… I’m thinking about you and what-what you said yesterday.”

“I said a lot yesterday-”

Jonathan gives you a pleading look. “Please just let me get this out, okay?”

You purse your lips but remain silent.

“I will never, ever deserve you. This week and my actions have proven that. This isn’t some pathetic attempt to make you pity me, I was an asshole to you and I recognize that. You love people in a way that terrifies me, Y/N. You’re my best friend and I think I would actually die if I ever lost you.”

A snort escapes your lips, “you probably would.”

“I definitely would, but this isn’t about me. I’m so, so sorry for how I’ve been treating you lately and the fact that you’re driving me to a funeral home after watching my mom have a meltdown in the town square without even batting an eye is all the more proof that you’re too good for me.”

“I wouldn’t say too good, but yeah. Close enough.”

“It’s more than enough, bug. That’s what terrifies me: I’m afraid that I’ll never be able to repay you for all that you’ve done for me, even before Will disappeared; you’ve been taking care of me since we were twelve.”

His words hang in the air as you allow them to wash over you. There’s so much you want to disagree with, namely the fact that he doesn't deserve you, but you know that he wouldn’t want to hear your arguments.

Again you think about how similar the two of you are, and while you both give your all to the people that you love, your love comes freely while Jonathan has grown up believing that it comes with conditions. It’s never been a problem in your relationship until now, but you guess with how much you’ve been overcompensating for everything, the need to return it all has caught up with him.

Finally, you speak. “You feel that you can’t accept my help because I’ve already done enough for you. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan takes a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid, especially because I’m asking for your help right now with the funeral preparations, but…”

“I understand, but we’ll get through it,” you pull into the funeral home parking lot and turn the car off. “We always do, right?”

“Right,” Jonathan’s smile is a weak one, but you accept it nonetheless.

“Now, you ready to go look at children’s coffins like real men and women do?”

He laughs at your poor attempt at a joke, but even he can admit that objectively the entire situation is morbid. “Only real best friends go coffin shopping together.”

“My thoughts exactly, good sir.” Then, before you forget, you reach over and whack Jonathan’s head with the back of your hand.

“Ow! What was that for?”

You shrug your shoulders, “ask Nancy.”

And with that, you unbuckle your seatbelt and head into the funeral home, trusting that Jonathan will follow eventually enough. Things aren’t exactly the same between the two of you, especially with your newfound feelings for him, but it’s a start.

“I deserved that,” you hear Jonathan grumble, which makes you smile.

You’ll take whatever you can get.

–

You spot Nancy before Jonathan does.

It wasn’t intentional, really, but the funeral home director was droning on and on about the different wood selections for coffins and finishes that you can customize and it all makes you want to throw up; the coffins before you are so small, you weren't really paying attention in the first place.

She stands in the doorway and motions for you to get Jonathan’s attention, who is deeply focused on everything the old man is saying. A part of you wants to ignore the girl, but the scared look on her face tells you that this is something serious.

You nudge your shoulder against Jonathan’s and point at Nancy; he excuses the two of you as you walk towards her.

Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, a bit guarded. “Hey,”

“Hey, your mom, um… said you’d be here.”

“You talked to Mrs. Byers?” You ask, feeling a sudden possessiveness over the woman. Sure, you were kind of okay sharing Jonathan with Nancy so long as she was with Harrington, but Joyce? She’s like a second mother to you.

It made you uneasy that Joyce even talked to her in the first place.

Nancy tilts her head at you. “Yeah, it was only for a brief moment though. She seemed pretty… distracted.”

“No shit. Her son died, Nancy.”

The girl flinches a bit at your tone, which causes Jonathan to yank at your sleeve and shove you behind him. “Ignore her, we’ve had… Well, it’s been a long day.”

You feel your shoulders drop and unclench your fists. “Sorry, is everything okay? Is it the boys?”

“No, they’re fine, I just,” Nancy’s eyes shoot towards you, uncertain, before directing them towards Jonathan. “Can we talk for a second?”

The photos Nancy shows you makes your blood run cold. They start with Barb sitting alone by the pool, but slowly she pulls out more and more pieces of the torn picture to create a terrifying image with a shadow-like figure looming over her friend.

Jonathan tries to sum the shadow up to lens distortion, but you know that he’s wrong. Nancy asks more questions, trying to figure out exactly what has happened to Barb, but all you can think about is El.

You check the time on your watch and curse. It’s late afternoon now, you’ve been gone with Jonathan since early this morning. Dustin hadn’t been in his room when you left and you stupidly assumed that he’d gone off to school. Now, seeing the picture of Barb and that thing… Something is so goddamn wrong.

“The cops think that she ran away,” Nancy says.

“Just like they did with Will,” you’re whispering more to yourself than to them, but Jonathan hears you anyway.

“Maybe she did run away-”

Nancy shakes her head. “No, she wouldn’t do that. They don’t know Barb. When I went back to Steve’s… I thought I saw something.”

Your head shoots up. “Nancy, what did you see?”

“Some weird man,” the urgence in your voice confuses the girl, but you silently push her to keep talking, “or… I don’t know what it was.”

Both you and Jonathan are quiet afterwards for very different reasons.

He’s quiet because he probably thinks Nancy is crazy, just like his mom.

You’re quiet because you’re currently afraid you’ve accidentally left your idiotic brother and his friends and El alone with very real monsters and possible bad men. The figure Nancy saw… El being terrified of bad people finding and hurting her…

Well shit.

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have come here today-”

You stop Nancy from leaving. “No, you should stay… I think,” you look at Jonathan, nervous for how he may react to what you’re about to say. “I think I might have an idea of what you saw last night. A lot has happened since Will disappeared, things that I’m still trying to understand, but I think I know where to start finding an explanation.”

Jonathan turns to you. “What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Technically I did try telling you a few nights ago but then you yelled at me and threw a jacket at my face-”

“You threw a jacket at Y/N?” Nancy asks, which you and Jonathan ignore.

“But for now I can’t tell you anything else. I made a promise, and I’m not sure I’m right or even sane for considering it an explanation, but we need to leave. Now.”

“A promise? To who?” There’s an edge of hurt in Jonathan’s voice and you desperately wish you could explain more to him, but now isn’t the time. Not with Nancy sitting between you two and her own brother involved. You don’t want to cause any unnecessary worry for her; right now she needs to focus on Barb. You’ll wrangle in the boys, it’s your fault they’re even alone right now with El.

“I can’t exactly say who, but just trust me, okay? Again: I really hope I’m just insane and worried about nothing and that this will all be an embarrassing laugh for us later.”

“Y/N-”

“Jonathan, we need to go.”

“‘We’?” Nancy now speaks up, seemingly fed up by your vague exchange with Jonathan.

You try to collect yourself and pretend like you have some amazing plan. “Yes, we. Jonathan will take you to the photo developing room at school and see if you can make the pictures clearer. On the way there, he’ll drop me off at home so I can grab my bike and head out.”

“And what will you be doing?” The boy asks.

“Tracking down my brother, unfortunately.”

He gives you a doubtful look. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to just let you run off on your own without more of an explanation.”

You know he’s right, but you just… you can’t tell him about El and the bad men yet. You can’t. Not until you know for sure what the hell is happening.

“I’m sure it’s nothing… but just in case, I really need to find Dustin, okay?”

I’m a really, really bad babysitter, you think.

Jonathan opens his mouth again as if to argue, but you hold your hand up to silence him. You really don’t want to waste time fighting with him. He has to trust you on this, whether he likes it or not.

He sighs with defeat, “Just be safe, please.”

You also really don’t want to put anyone else in danger. It’s bad enough that you allowed the boys to get dragged into this mess, but you refuse to drag your best friend in as well. But really, who knows? Maybe you’re just a regular idiot who believes in fairy tales and monsters, not some idiot who leaves three overly naive boys alone with a girl with superpowers.

God you hope you’re just a regular idiot.

However, if Joyce believes that Will is alive, even without the knowledge of El and her powers, then you’re sure that the boys also believe he’s alive and will inevitably go looking for him again. Alone. In the same woods Nancy saw that strange figure.

You cast those thoughts out of your head and give Jonathan what you hope is a reassuring smile. “When am I not safe?”

You really, truly hope that you’re just an idiot, but if the photos that you just saw scare you. Before he can change his mind, you quickly reach over and snatch Jonathan’s keys from his jacket and give him a peck on the cheek before running out to his car.

“I call shotgun, Nancy!”

–

Unsurprisingly, the drive with Nancy and Jonathan is an awkward one. Things are still a bit tense between you and him for reasons you’re not sure you can tell him about just yet, and now Nancy is in the backseat trying not to make any sound, so really it was a doomed car ride from the start.

It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but there’s something about the way she acts around Jonathan that honestly makes you want to collapse. You know she’s with Harrington, but the tenderness Jonathan has shown her the few times they’ve interacted makes you uneasy.

Yesterday you chalked the uneasiness to simply never sharing Jonathan before, but now you know the truth.

You’re jealous because you’re in love with him.

It’s a nauseating feeling.

“So, how long have the two of you been friends?” Nancy’s question surprises you, mostly because she should already know the answer. You know she’s just trying to make conversation, but the question itself further reminds you of why the two of you had drifted apart in the first place.

“I moved here when I was twelve, remember? Your family helped us move in.”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” You see Nancy nervously playing with her fingers in the rearview mirror, which makes you feel bad. She’s trying, you know she is.

“It’s fine,” you try to catch her eye, and when you do you give her a smile. “I know you probably don’t remember much from that day. It was the middle of the school year and our brothers immediately started being annoying together, so you had gone inside after only a couple minutes.”

Nancy laughs, now remembering that day. “Didn’t Mike hold an initiation for Dustin that night?”

“Yeah,” you laugh with her now. “That’s actually how Jonathan and I met. Remember, bee?”

Jonathan’s smile is a soft one, a smile that makes you feel weak because you know you’re the reason it’s there. “Of course I do. We both showed up at the Wheeler’s house at the same time to pick up our brothers.”

“And then-”

“I answered the door.” Nancy finishes for you.

“Yup. Ever since then, Jonathan hasn’t been able to get rid of me.”

“It’s been horrible,” he says with a monotone voice, but it’s clear to everyone that he’s joking.

You punch his shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I saved you from those bullies later that week.”

Jonathan gives you a pointed look and tries to subtly motion towards Nancy, clearly embarrassed that you've brought the bullies up in front of her. Like he wants her to think he’s someone cooler than he really is.

Your smile vanishes.

He wants to impress her.

“Right, sorry,” you clear your throat and if Nancy notices your sudden mood change, she doesn’t say anything. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment and remind yourself that what matters right now are the boys and El. They should be your priority, not petty boy drama.

Luckily Jonathan pulls into your driveway not long after the abrupt conversation ending, which you’re thankful for.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face Nancy, and it takes everything in you to force a smile on your face. “Alright, well, this is my stop! Nancy, I’m trusting you to tell me whatever you and Jonathan find. I’d ask him to keep me updated, but I know he’ll inevitably forget.”

The girl nods at you. “You can trust me.”

Can I?

Although you’re not exactly sure what it is that you don’t think you can trust her with. Then, your eyes drift to Jonathan and the way he’s staring at her from his own mirror, and you realize that maybe she’s not the one you should be worried about.

“Good,” you turn to Jonathan now. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“And I’ll answer… probably.”

“You’re so sweet to me.”

“I know, right?”

You snort at the boy and wave goodbye to him and Nancy before getting out of the car. Your bike is in the shed, so you motion to Jonathan that he’s good to leave. When he’s sure you’re okay, he waves at you one last time and drives away.

It feels like you’ve made a huge mistake as you watch Jonathan and Nancy leave, but you don’t have time to think about why. Dustin’s bike isn’t in the shed alongside yours, which you expected, and you have to find him.

Your brother and his idiotic friends need you right now.

–

For the second time within a week, Steve Harrington almost kills you with his stupid BMW. Granted, the first time wasn’t necessarily his fault due to your crying, but this time just felt personal.

“Henderson!”

“Jesus christ-” You’re biking to the Wheeler’s, lost in thought as the sun begins to set, when stupid Harrington scares the shit out of you.

His unexpected shouting from the other side of the road causes you to swerve your bike towards his car and he has to slam on his brakes to avoid hitting you.

“Do you, like, have a fantasy about me hitting you with my car?”

You glare at the boy. “You are a man, I am a woman. It’s getting dark outside. What exactly made you think it’s a good idea to yell out at me?”

“Well, I mean, I called after you.” He says, so matter of factly that it makes you want to strangle him.

You hate him. You really do.

A strand of hair has fallen in your face, so you blow it away before bothering to answer. “My apologies, you called after me and almost killed me in the process.”

Steve winks at you. “Apology accepted.”

You stare at him, unamused and still in the middle of the damn road, and after a couple beats of silence you cock your head at the boy. “Are you going to tell me what you need or…?”

“Oh,” Steve coughs, as if startled by your question. “Honestly I didn’t really have a plan when I called after you. I just kinda did, so…”

“Right, well.” You clench your jaw in annoyance. Why are you even surprised that Harrington has wasted your time? “This was fun, let’s never do it again sometime!”

You ride off on your bike, trying to quickly get up the hill so that you can get to the Wheeler’s before it gets too dark to see. The hill is brutal and it’s almost embarrassing how long it’s taking you to get up it, and as you’re huffing and dripping in sweat, headlights come up from behind you.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan.

Steve’s car is now right next to you, the fucker having done a complete u-turn to follow after you. His window is still rolled down and he has one hand on the steering wheel and the other hanging out his window.

“Hello again, Henderson.”

“I never said hello back to you.”

“C’mon, at least pretend to be happy to see me.”

You let out another groan as you continue to struggle up the hill. “I physically cannot do that, sorry.”

Steve, ever the comedian, responds, “It doesn’t seem like you can physically get up this hill either.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of laughing, but you’re a bit annoyed that his quip was funny. What a jackass, honestly.

“Henderson,” your silence doesn’t deter the boy, “just get in the damn car already.”

Once again you almost crash into the BMW, this time because of your complete shock at his request.

“What?”

He gives you a look as if you’re the insane one in this situation. “You’re sweatier than I am after basketball, and at the rate you’re going I’d say you’ll reach your destination in about three to five business days.”

You stare at him, speechless.

He stares back at you with a smirk on his smug little face, knowing that he’s won the argument. “Get in the car and I’ll throw your bike in the back.”

You do as he says, your mind completely blank and still taken aback. Sweatier than him after basketball? There’s no way that’s true, and also who says that to someone they barely even know? As if you’re really that sweaty-

You see your reflection in his car mirror and wince.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little sweaty.

Fuck Steve Harrington.

The boy in question tosses your bike in the trunk as you hesitantly get in the car. He watches as you sit yourself down and laughs. “It’s a car, Henderson. It won’t bite.”

“Yeah, but you might.” You slap a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the implications of your words.

Steve raises an eyebrow at you as he turns the car back on. “Careful there, last I checked you’re a taken lady.”

The embarrassment you previously felt is gone, now replaced with your usual annoyance when it comes to Steve. You think about what he did yesterday to Jonathan’s camera, the cruelty in his eyes as he watched the thing shatter onto the ground. He didn’t show any remorse, and while you understand that he had been defending his girlfriend, he had taken it too far.

“How many times do I have to tell you that Jonathan and I are just friends?”

“Please,” Steve huffs with amusement, “the two of you have been inseparable for years. Besides, no way a guy like Byers can just be friends with a girl like you. Not scientifically possible.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What’s ‘a girl like you’ supposed to mean?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Also, you didn’t even know my name until this week, so don’t go acting like you know my relationship with Jonathan.”

“Relax, Henderson. It was a compliment. All I meant is that you’re decently pretty, all things considered, so I wouldn’t blame Byers if he was in love with you. It’s human nature.”

“Okay, that’s just really sexist-”

“As for knowing your name only this week, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused.

Steve places a hand over his chest, almost as if he’s reaching for his heart. “Apology accepted, it means a lot to me.”

“Ugh,” you scoff at him. “That wasn’t an apology and you know it. Can you just take me to the Wheeler’s, please?”

“Woah, slow down there. First I need you to tell me why you thought I didn’t know your name, then I’ll take you to my girlfriend’s house. Free of charge.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that you see some offense in Steve’s eyes for thinking he only recently learned your name, but why would he care? Besides, you know he’s never paid any attention to you before this week.

“It was literally this week that I had to tell you my name after you almost hit me with your car, Harrington.”

“Okay, hey,” the boy holds a finger up. “Actually, you almost hit me with your bike because you were too busy hysterically sobbing.”

He’s right, but you won’t tell him that. Minor details, honestly. You’re about to tell him as much before you realize what he’s said. “Wait, you knew I had been crying?”

Steve gives you a well, duh look. “Yeah, that’s why I pretended not to know your name. Figured you wouldn’t want to talk about it and the least I could do was make you laugh. And viola, I did.”

He had willingly tried to make you laugh?

His words make you flush, which seems to only amuse him further as he chuckles at you. You wave your hand at him, now more annoyed than ever. “Okay, fine. Whatever, so you knew my name before this week, big whoop. Can you just drive now?”

“I’ll take that as an ‘I’m sorry Steve for assuming you’re an asshole who hadn’t noticed a girl you’ve known since you were thirteen’, then.” Steve takes the car out of park and begins to drive to the Wheeler’s which you’re relieved by.

You feel uncomfortably warm after that conversation, regardless of the fact that you’re still overheated from your biking. There’s no way that Steve has seriously known about you since you were twelve and he was thirteen. No, you decide that he must be lying, playing up his usual boyish charm. He’s been this untouchable entity ever since you moved to Hawkins, so why would he have paid any attention to you?

Then your mind floats to his compliment, calling you “decently pretty”, but then again not even five minutes earlier he stated that you sweat more than he does after basketball, so really his words should mean nothing.

And yet, after the week you’ve had and your fight with Jonathan and Will’s death and El’s mysterious powers…

Steve’s words make you a bit giddy, embarrassingly enough. You hate that they do, because he’s Steve Harrington and he’s with Nancy who is beautiful and kind and everything you’re not. It doesn’t matter what he thinks of you.

You pick at your nails as he drives, the car silent, and you accidentally graze against the cut on your finger from yesterday. It’s scabbed over by now, but the pain is still fresh.

“I know that what Jonathan did was wrong, I won’t excuse his actions. Standing up for Nancy was the right thing to do and I admire you for it, really,” Steve spares you a glance as he drives, nodding his head slightly to indicate that he’s listening. “But breaking Jonathan’s camera wasn’t.”

He groans. “Nancy said the same thing, but what’s the big deal? The creep shouldn’t have access to a camera if he can’t use it properly.”

The slight warmth that Steve had somehow put in your chest dissipates at his words. “Jonathan isn’t a creep, but regardless of the situation, the big deal is this: not everyone can afford a fancy BMW and Raybans. Not everyone in Hawkins lives in a giant mansion with a pool. He worked so hard to afford that camera, it’s not something that he can just buy again on a whim.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Henderson, you know I didn’t mean it like that-”

“I know, but it was still a shitty thing to do.”

The silence that settles in the car is a heavy one, and you almost feel bad for Steve. You know he hadn’t thought about the repercussions of his actions, but you suppose that the fact that he hadn’t considered the price of a camera was proof enough of his naivety.

When you get to the Wheeler’s, Steve gets out of the car to help you with your bike. He doesn’t let you do a thing, so you stand there and awkwardly watch. You can tell that he’s trying to make up for his actions from yesterday, which you appreciate.

“Thank you,” you say once he places the bike down.

“All in a day’s work.” Steve responds, wiping his hands off on his jeans.

As he turns to leave, you stop him. “And thank you for earlier this week, ya know, for making me laugh after falling off my bike. I, uh, appreciate it.”

He seems surprised by your sincerity, but he smiles. “Again: all in a day’s work. And listen, I’m sorry about Byers’ camera,” Then he quickly adds, as if afraid he won’t have the nerve to later, “I’m sorry about Will, too. I figure you were close with him and now he’s…”

His words trail off, not wanting to say the word “dead”, which you can’t blame him for.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.” Steve turns to face you now, your words catching his undivided attention. “You just have the worst taste in friends, but when you aren’t around them… I guess you’re alright.”

He laughs a bit, but there’s a certain emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite name; you have to stop yourself from leaning in closer to him. Suddenly the space between you feels too close and you take a step back, but as you move you feel Steve’s hand ruffle your hair. “I guess you’re ‘alright’ too, Henderson.”

You watch as he leaves, standing in the Wheeler’s driveway for longer than necessary. You place your hand on your head and find yourself smiling, the warmth of his touch still faintly there.

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yeyinde · 1 year

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Can we have sub!Soap 🥺 please. Like he kindly let's her have control for one night and he fuckin loves it. Maybe she ties his hands and makes him beg to let him touch her while she rides his face or something (,: I think he would be so good at begging

hiya, op! so sorry this took so long!!

Sub!Soap was such a delight—thank you so much for this! 🫣

warnings: Sub!Soap; begging; face-sitting/face-riding—f!receiving; female!reader; female gendered anatomy; femdom; unfettered filth; Johnny is stupid for you

"Y'have no idea what y'do t'me, hen—"

His words are barely coherent when he slurs them out, breath humid and heavy on your neck. The hot, wet press of his tongue follows, laving across your pulse point. It's the flash of teeth against your skin that has you tipping your head back in pleasure.

"Johnny," you murmur his name softly, words swallowed by the sound on the television—Everton versus the Celtics, or so he told you when you stumbled home that evening, exhausted from work. It's lost in the grainy static of cheers, and the booming voices of the commentators.

He's incorrigible tonight—grasping at you with feverish hands as he tugs your trousers down, pawing at your flesh.

There is a desperation in the way that he moves, so different from his usual teasing demeanour. A roughness in how he handles you, touches you. It sits low in your belly until you're burning from the fervid hands that roam your body until not an inch has been left untouched, until his fingerprints are a mosaic on your flesh.

"Please, hen—," he murmurs into your sternum, hair tickling your nose. "I just need it—need it so bad—"

The taste of whiskey on his tongue is sharp when you lean down, moulding your lips to his.

Johnny's kisses are always so needy. So intense. He kisses you deeply, thoroughly, as if he can't get enough of the taste, and doesn't stop until you're pushing at his chest, gasping for air.

There is something in the way he aches for you tonight that simmers inside your veins. A liquid spume of rich confidence: the illicit tang of conquest.

It's almost like an out-of-body experience when you thread your fingers through his hair—longer now that he's on leave—and pulls. He groans against your bottom lip, deep and heavy; the noise vibrating through your chest. It's—

Addicting.

Your fingers tighten until a fistful of his brown locks is sat in your palm. Another tug, and he whimpers.

"Fuck, hen—," he pants, hands clenched around your waist. "That feels so fuckin' good—"

"Yeah?" You purr, thick with coquettish mirth; a slurry of want and power. "You gonna be a good boy for me, then?"

"Jesus Christ—"

Your words seemed to have stunned him. He's malleable, pliant, when you push him down on the couch. Eyes wide, hungry; his mouth red from your teeth—Johnny looks like he was made to be beneath you.

"I wanna tie you up, Johnny." You whisper to him, tongue rolling over your upper lip. He shudders under you, head tips back as he groans again. "Make you beg for it."

"Ah, fuck—" his hips jerk, nearly toppling you off. His hands snap up, grasping your waist. An apology spills from his lips. "You cannae say shite like that t'me."

The broken end of a giggle tips out when his accent thickens. “Oh no?”

He groans, shoulders tensing when your hands fall to his chest. “Jesus—”

"Want me to ride you?" You murmur, cocking your head at him. "You can't touch me, though."

His tongue flicks out over his bottom lip, eyes cresting with want. "Aye," he rasps, swallowing thickly. "But—I want to taste you, hen."

Your breath catches, words barely a whisper. "Oh, yeah? You want me to—"

"Sit on my face, bonnie. I want to taste your cunt."

His words bludgeon through you; molten need pools in your lower belly. You shiver.

"That what you want? Want me to ride your face? Get you all messy—"

His hips twitch again. You can feel the swell of his cock against your ass.

"C'mon, hen, please—"

His hands are burning when he grabs your waist, helping you move over him. It's liquid with Johnny—years of practice in the SAS make him agile, and strong: you can feel it in his hands when he takes hold of you.

There is something magnetic about a man who surrenders himself to you wholly despite the clear distinction in power.

Balanced over him like this, staring into those hazy eyes, it's almost intoxicating, more so than the half-drunk cup of whiskey and coke made you feel. The surge of it through your veins makes you dizzy. Delirious with it, really.

"Johnny," you breathe, heart thrumming when he immediately looks up, responding instantly to you. "You're not allowed to touch me, love. I want your hands—," you grasp his wrist, sliding them down until his palms rest flat on your thighs; "—right here. Don't move."

The command slips with an ease that makes his eyes flutter, a soft groan rolling out of his throat. "Fuck, hen—just gimme it, please—"

Like most things with Johnny, it—this— started out as a joke.

A friend's wedding in Aberdeen. A few drinks. He kept talking, teasing. His hand was heavy on your thigh, hidden from view of everyone. Glass of scotch in hand, eyes azure in the coruscating lights hanging from the beams above, you could taste the anticipation in the air when he dipped his finger between your legs, hiking the hem of your dress up.

He leaned down. The scent of sin on his breath. "Be good for me, dove. No one'll notice."

In response, you'd clamped your thighs tight together, trapping his wandering hands. Smile taut, eyes sharp, you purred: if you don't stop it, Johnny, I'm gonna have to punish you, love.

His hand twitched.

"Yeah?" His voice was lower, breathier than you'd ever heard him speak. "How so? What'll y'do to me—"

Your eyes cut across the table. No one was watching. No one noticed this moment. But his words were liquid in your ear.

"I'll have to tie those wandering hands up, won't I?"

He spilt his drink on the table when he set the glass down.

Johnny looked back at you, and you knew this wasn't over. You should have known then that trouble was simmering in the hazel eyes.

And now—

"Yeah, bonnie," he breathes against your cunt when your fingers thread through his hair, giving a sharp tug. "Just like that."

Johnny isn't the type of man to be incredibly dominant in the bedroom. There is an ebb and flow. He gives just as much as he takes, and so long as he has you writhing around, and desperate for him, he's a happy man.

This, however, is new. Uncharted territory.

"Are you sure, Johnny?"

His eyes are molten. "Fuck, hen. You have no idea."

There is a pinch in your muscles from holding yourself above him like this, barely an inch away from that devious mouth, but still. You hold it. Swallow it down. You want him to beg.

"Is that how you ask for it, Johnny?" You coo, tightening your grip on his hair. "Mind your manners, baby. I know you can do better than that."

Your words make his eyes roll. Milky whites flood his lower lids as he tips his chin back, a ragged whine spilling out. "Steamin' fucking Jesus, hen—," he chokes, hands squeezing the meat of your thighs.

It's a parody of what he once whispered into your ear, fingers buried in your cunt.

Mind yer manners, hen.

Words tumble out in a gruff litany, too fast and slurred for you to keep up with.

"Come on, now—" a sharp pull makes him croak. "Don't you want me to ride your face, Johnny?"

"Please, hen, fuck—! I need your cunt. I need it bad—"

It's rucked: gathered at the base of his throat where it sits, heavy and syrupy thick. The timbre, the desperation, the quiver in his voice makes you whimper, your core tightening with want. You need his mouth on you, need something to stem the ache inside of you.

You almost give in, almost drop your drenched pussy to his lips, but you don't. You can't.

He can do better than that.

"Johnny," you tut, rolling your hips over his mouth. Just a tease. Just a brush. His hands tighten, trying to pull you closer. "Stop."

He freezes immediately.

You're sure this isn't what the SAS meant when they said they'd train him to be perfectly disciplined and obey commands in an instant, but you can't help sending a small bout of gratitude to the heavens for that. Your perfect soldier.

(Somewhere in the great yonder, you can only assume his superior officer is cursing your name.)

"If you don't behave, Johnny, I won't let you touch me at all. I'll make you keep your hands over your head."

"No, no, no—," it's out before you even finish. "I'll be good, hen, I'll be so fuckin' good fer ya."

"Then prove it."

His hands spasm over your flesh, and then go still. The steadying breath he takes rolls over you, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from whining.

This man will ruin you.

His eyes are wide and saturated in desire. Like a good soldier, he waits for his command.

Fuck—

(That is, of course, if you don't ruin him first.)

"Do you want to taste me, baby? Want my pussy on your mouth?"

He nods, eager and frenzied. "Fuck, yes, yes, yes—please, bonnie, I need it so fuckin' bad—"

"I'm going to give you a taste, love." You murmur, hand slipping down until you're cupping the back scruff of his mohawk in your palm. Another fistful. His lashes flutter. "But you better make it good, yeah? Or I'll make you sit there and watch as I get myself off instead."

"Fuckin'—Christ —!"

His hips jerk again. Eyes whiting out.

It's the way his forehead crumples at the image conjured, eyes squeezing shut, that makes you whimper. His body trembles under you, coiled tight; muscles pull together in an effort to keep himself from moving. To obey your command.

Your breath knots in your lungs, core throbbing at the sight of him so needy for it, so lost in the hazy thought of watching you fuck your cunt, play with your clit, and not letting him do a damned thing at all, makes your spine tingle. Makes goosebumps erupt over your flesh.

(Something, then, to try later.)

Your voice is already wrecked—low, breathy. It's a sultry roll of want, eager and desperate. "Ready, love?"

His only response is a deep groan, another pitch of his hips. Johnny's eyes slide open. Molten gold gazing at you.

"Please, hen, please—"

The first desperate swipe of his molten tongue delving between your folds has you shuddering from the intense pleasure that roils inside of your core. It's good. So fucking good.

Johnny eats your cunt like he'll never have it again. Like it's something to be savoured. A delicate treat, an expensive wine. Slow and sweet, dragging it out until you have tears running in rivets down your raw cheeks, throat hoarse from begging him for so long. It's tender, almost. Barely a graze. A whisper of his tongue. He pants against your cunt, blowing softly at your clit until you're tugging at his hair for respite.

Discipline, you think, watching the way his eyes roll when he finally gets his fill of you. Mouth devouring you whole. He's controlled in his movements despite the obvious strain in the way he rolls his tongue over you, but the agony leaks out in the pinch of his fingers, the shudders wracking through his body. The jerks of his hips. His mouth works seamlessly, but his eyes encapsulate the neediness brimming inside of him.

It's palpable when he nudges his nose against your mound, breath harsh and heavy when it comes out. Heaving gasps and gusts of air as if he was drowning, and struggling to stay afloat.

Maybe, he is.

But it's—

Not good enough.

You want to break him. Shatter that self-control until it fragments between your thighs. Until he's whining into your cunt, begging for reprieve.

Your head tips back, hips rolling over his mouth. The stubble on his chin and cheeks scratch the soft, sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, but the burn feels good. You want him to mark you. Love it when he rubs himself over your skin until you're raw from it.

"Johnny," you whimper, his name a hymnal on your tongue. "Stop—"

It's a nearly maddening sense of torture when he grunts against your pussy, curses spilling from his mouth. But he listens.

Your good soldier. Your obedient man—

"Fuck," he slurs, the word bitten and doused in anger, frustration. "Come on, hen, I need your cunt. I need my mouth on your pussy. You want it, I know you fuckin' do, so why're ya—"

"Johnny—" his name is sharp. He stills immediately. You pull his head up, pressing yourself against his mouth. "You need to learn when to shut up."

His eyes flash. A challenge brims in those molasses depths. Sticky, thick, and now bubbling with ire. You've angered him.

Johnny always gets what he wants. Always. And now—

It's euphoric. The absolute unfettered debauchery that spools inside of your head is enough to make you shudder. To have a man whose strength could easily knock you aside and take what he wanted without it even being a fight reduced to smouldering vexation over not getting to taste your cunt is a rush, it's a high you could fall into. He's docile beneath you. Listening to every word you say. But his eyes—

A shaky smile splits across your face. "You want it, babe? Want my pussy?"

"Yes," he hisses, brows furrowing tight together. There is aching desperation in his eyes. A plea. "I need it, hen. I want your pretty pussy on my face. I want you to ride me until you cum on my tongue. I need you, pretty thing. I need it—"

"Be a good boy, then, and prove it to me."

He doesn't hesitate. His tongue slips over you, eyes dropping when he finally has your taste back in his mouth. He moans when you sink down, when your hand lifts, pinching your nipple as he delves inside your core.

His control breaks when you grind your cunt over him. Hands tighten, fingers digging into your flesh, and then he shatters. His mouth is liquid when it seals over you, tongue laving against your clit, eyes rolling back into his head. Johnny moans again; the low groans spilling from deep within his chest.

It's sloppy. All of that curated control obliterating in his ire, his neediness to have you. To make you cum.

Make it good, you'd said.

The challenge in his eyes reared. I fuckin' intend to.

(Johnny is such a good boy when he breaks.)

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