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fall into temptation | three

Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high.

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter.

His youngest daughter.

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still.

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit.

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none.

Still.

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation.

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him.

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told.

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs.

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

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chaosandmarigolds · 1 month

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It's me. hi i'm the problem it's me (aka here's another installment of Simon Riley's being...Simon Riley)

Dinner Party (gone wrong) edition

He will help you cook, mainly because he's jealous of the literal task of cooking for getting more attention than him for the past five hours- does he know what he's doing? No. But he does his best and lord knows he can and will happily follow orders.

Cleaning? he may seem a bit disgruntled at first but he will stand on the dining room table to clean the lights, and he'll clean the baseboards even though he keeps telling you no one is going to look at them-

Loves watching you cook, or more of he loves watching you do something you enjoy, you could be gardening, writing, reading, sewing- he loves seeing the shine in your eyes- so he does stare, not in a super creepy way but it catches your attention

"I can feel you staring at me."

"An?"

"And you're freakin me out-Oh! Since you're here can you go get the nice wine from the basement?"

"Got it, boss."

He tastes tests everything, it's an excuse to put his hands on you to keep himself still for a moment so therefore he is very eager to do so

As much as he 'loves' PDA (aka he tolerates it) around your supposed friends you've been so desperate to impress for the past two weeks, he can't stomach the idea of giving you any more than an awkward side hug in their presence

Dead stare? yeah, he stares at them from across the table, utterly baffled out they can outright judge your amazing cooking because like??? a free meal?

'It's overcooked' your ass is overcooked Jenni.

Yet he was shocked? you were just taking the harsh words and backhanded compliments with a smile and nod. You were better than him, he would've made some snarky remark already

"Your house is...so cozy." "The decor is very retro."

"Maxmilist but...not? I love it." "Mm, very seasoned."

"It's so... it's so you."

You were taking it, laughing it off and squeezing his hand every time he made any motion or even gave a look like he may snap back at them.

"I think...I think I did good steak- the steak is good right?" You whisper as you grab the wine from the rack in the kitchen- which he technically didn't have to follow you but it was probably for the better that he did. Tears stung your eyes and you were doing your best to breathe and not let a sound escape.

"I thought it was amazing, it was amazing-hey-baby," he grabbed your shoulders to keep you from going back and then very carefully moved to wipe the tear from your cheek, "Baby, how about we kick em out an' then we watch tha' movie in the theatre? I'll make them go away...do you want me to make them go away?"

"That-it would be so mean."

"Do you want them gone?"

It took two words to make the prestige get up out of the seats, 'get out.' however he would tell you he was very polite and told them you weren't feeling well suddenly, and they were very understanding.

He told you to not change, after all you were already dressed up as if for a date and so was he so it worked perfectly.

Sure the movie you chose was a reshowing of a 90's chickflic but he would take your laughter over anything else in the world-

and yeah he did all of the dishes because he felt like when you got home the only thing you needed todo was go to sleep and rest

Next time he would just have the boys come over (after a long lecture on manners for Johnny, will make that man sit through an online dinner manner course thingy)

(annnyway thats it <33 I love comments and feedback!)

#simon riley imagine #simon riley fanfic #cod x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #x fem!reader #x female reader #coco’s chaos <3 #ghost #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #simon ghost fluff #ghost fluff

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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bouncer!steve x fem!reader steve’s night.

🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.🎵

summary: You’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. Turns out he’s not very good at his job.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: 18 + 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.

authors note: It’s finally here! Part two of Whatta man! Steve’s night. You don’t have to read Eddie’s Night to read this one, I just think it’s more fun if you do 😉 There’s LOTS of bartender!eddie in this fic if you miss him though. (he’s your bff) This part has been a long time coming (since march lol) and I’m so happy to finally share this with you. Thank you to all of my friends who have had to listen to me talk about this for months and all of you guys who have sent me asks about our favorite boys at the foxy lounge! I wouldn’t of been able to do this with out your endless support, and excitement for this little world. Thank you, ily forever 💗

The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless.

Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.

“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.

“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.” Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.

The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“

“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle.

“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.

Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.

“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”

“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.

“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.

“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over.

“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.”

Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.

“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”

The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.

Shit. You’re late.

No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.

Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.

You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.

Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.

The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.

An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.

God you hated when Eddie was right.

Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.

“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”

The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.

“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.

Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.

“Well as long as you’re okay-“

“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.

“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.

“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.

It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.

“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.

He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside.

“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.

“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”

He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”

His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.

The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.

Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.

“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.

You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face.

“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.

“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.

Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.

Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”

Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”

“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.

Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?

Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath.

You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.

Oh yeah, you had a date.

“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.

“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.

Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.

“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”

Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.

“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.

“I.D. or no entry dick head.”

Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.

Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.

“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.

Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.

“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.

“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.

“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.

“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.

“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.

God, you already want this to be over.

The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue.

“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.

“It was- It was a lot different from here…”

Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival.

Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.

The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.

“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.

Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.

Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.

“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“

“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”

The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer.

“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.

“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.”

There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you.

“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”

Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.

“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!”

The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.

You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.

“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.

The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand.

“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him.

“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.

She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.

“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.

“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.

“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.

“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.

The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.

He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.

“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool.

“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.

“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.

“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.

“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.

“Where? I don’t see him.”

Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.

“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.

“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.

He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath.

“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this.

“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.

“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.

Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth.

Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin.

“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.

“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.

“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.

“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.

“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.

You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose.

His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips.

When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.

“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.

“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.”

The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.

“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified.

“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied.

“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.

“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.

“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?”

Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.

“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.

“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.

“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.”

You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.

“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.

“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.

“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.

“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.

You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.

The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil.

You have to get rid of Devin.

He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.

“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.

Crickets.

You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.

“Devin.”

You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.

You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.

“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.

“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“

“Devin.”

“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.

“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”

Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.

“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”

You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight.

“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.

“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.

Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again.

“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.

Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.

“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”

You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance.

God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night.

Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.

“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.

The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.

“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again.

“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.

“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”

It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.

“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.

“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.

“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.”

“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.

“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”

Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.

In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.

Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.

“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!”

He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.

“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.

He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.

“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”

Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.

“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.

“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.

“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.

“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.”

Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.

Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.

“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.

“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.

The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.

“Anytime Stevie.”

His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him.

You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you.

He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.

“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.

“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re the only one baby.”

His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.

“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”

His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you.

It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.

“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.

“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.

“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.

“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.

“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.

Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.

“Sit on the toilet for me.”

The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.

“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.

“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom.

It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?

It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.

“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?”

Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.

It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag.

“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.

“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?”

You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him.

“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.

“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.

You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.

“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.

He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.

“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.”

You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.

“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.

“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.

“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process.

“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”

It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.

“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.

He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.

“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”

A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.

“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.

It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin.

“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.

He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.

It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells.

You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.

One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.

“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.

He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.

“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.

Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light.

His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.

You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.

“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?”

He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.

“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”

His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.

“Steeeeve, please.”

You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you.

“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”

The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.

You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.

“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.

“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”

The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it.

“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”

His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.

“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.

Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees.

Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it.

“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.

His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.

“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?”

There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.

“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.

“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.

“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”

Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.

“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.

His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.

“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high.

You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again.

His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.

“You ready for me?”

Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.

“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.

“Please, please, please, please.”

All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit.

“Fuck - baby.”

He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him.

“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch - dangerously close to cumming already.

“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.

He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.

“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this.

“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself.

“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.”

His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from.

“Shit, Steve, right there.” Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.

“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”

Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.

He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.

The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.

“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.

“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break.

The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.

“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.

The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.

“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”

His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.

“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.

“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.

You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.

“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.

“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”

“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.

“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.

“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.

“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”

---

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson #my writing #whatta man

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seeminglydark · 2 months

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THERE we go. I did redraw of an old TDoV art of John’s portion a while ago for my punks respect stickers, but i hadn’t got around to doing a redraw of Caro, so here’s the full piece!

💜Happy Transgender Day of Visibility. I hope one day the world can be a safer better place, but right now, I’m so happy you’re here.💜

One day, I’ll tell you my whole story. There’s still so much I’m learning, and I think that’s ok. John is who I wished to see when I looked in the mirror growing up. He is my baby 90’s ‘didn’t know what trans was but god I know I’m not this’ self that I shoulda coulda woulda become had I had resources and knowledge back then. Caro is closer to who I am now, at 40+, finally experiencing my gender journey. They both mean so much to me. I’m glad they mean a lot to so many of you too.

Thanks for everything. I love you I love you I love you <3

#trans day of visibility #transgender #nonbinary #nonbinary artist #tdov 2024 #original characters #webcomics #lgbtq #queer stuff #gender queer

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callsign-rogueone · 3 months

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hey roomie - r.g. + s.h.

boyfriend!Ridoc Gamlyn x reader x Sawyer Henrick Sawyer walks in on you and Ridoc in a rather intimate moment, and Ridoc makes him an offer he can’t refuse. 🎧: “I’m tryna three-way with her roommate, hey roomie” — Paper Soldier, Brent Faiyaz words: 3.7k 🏷: Iron Flame spoilers in future chapter(s), NSFW, this is 90% smut, she/her afab reader in an established relationship with Ridoc, poorly-negotiated threesome, bi/pan Ridoc and Sawyer because I’m not a coward, soft dom/sub dynamics (Ridoc is the one in charge here) voyeurism, oral (f and m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv (does this universe even have condoms?), use of the names princess / pretty girl / baby / love, aftercare because that’s important!! Sawyer has a bit of a crisis bc you can’t hook up with two of your best friends without eventually facing some emotional consequences. this is my first try at actual smut, so be gentle pls 🥲

You can’t tear your eyes away from your squadmate in the doorway. He can’t look away either, mesmerized by the sight of you; clad only in one of Ridoc’s black t-shirts as the younger boy has you laid on your back in his bunk, his face between your legs and your hand tangled in his hair.

“Sawyer,” you manage, finally able to form coherent thoughts, but the feeling of Ridoc’s tongue against your clit makes the name come out in a soft whimper.

“What the fuck?” Your boyfriend rises up onto his elbows, about to ask why you’re thinking about his roommate right now, but he follows your gaze over his shoulder, laughing when he sees him standing there. “Oh, shit.”

Sawyer is still stunned into silence. His eyes have shifted to Ridoc, to the rider’s relic on his back that twists and ripples with the movement of the muscle underneath, the tattoo curling across his collarbone, his dark curls, mussed from you tugging on them, and Gods, the sight of his lips, kiss-bitten and glossy with your arousal… He can’t decide which one of you he’s more attracted to. This is wrong. This is so wrong.

But Sawyer isn’t the only one staring. You check him out unabashedly, admiring the lean muscle of his build, and the way the top of his head nearly brushes the doorframe. He looks so cute all embarrassed, a bright red blush across his freckled cheeks, lips parted in shock. Your eyes rake back down, settling on the very obvious strain in the crotch of his uniform.

He burns under your gaze, finally forming words. “I’m so sorry, I…”

Ridoc glances at you, then back at him. “Stay or go, I don’t care, just close the door.”

Sawyer blinks. “What?”

“I can see the way you’re looking at each other right now. Either stay and join us, or go do something else for half an hour and we’ll never talk about this again,” Ridoc offers, and your eyes widen even further as you realize he’s serious.

Sawyer looks to you, and you give him a soft nod of permission: he can stay. He steps forward and shuts the door behind him, kicking off his boots and leaning back against his desk.

“Thank you. Now, where were we, princess?”

You blink at Ridoc once, twice, stunned that he’s just going about business as usual after that, but your eyes shut in hazy pleasure as soon as his mouth is back on you.

Knowing Sawyer is watching makes it feel different, but not wrong. It feels too good to be wrong.

Ridoc pulls away after a few seconds, ignoring your whine of complaint. “Keep looking at him, or I’ll stop,” he warns, resuming his soft licks again.

Sawyer boldens, crossing his arms over his chest — he’s taken off his flight jacket, revealing the tight muscle of his biceps. “Eyes on me, princess.” The name Ridoc always calls you sounds so natural coming from him, and the firm tone he uses has you obeying instantly, looking across the room into his soft blue eyes.

He smiles. “You look so pretty for us like this, princess. Sound pretty, too.”

Your cheeks warm at the praise, embarrassed.

He doesn’t miss the way you’re squirming at his words. “You like me telling you how pretty you are?”

You nod, and Ridoc pinches your hip lightly, reminding you that he always wants verbal responses. You quickly stammer out a yes.

The words Sawyer has wanted to say for over a year now come easily. “You’re fucking stunning, baby. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Still think about you in that dress from Reunification Day when I can’t sleep at night.”

You whimper softly, but you continue to hold eye contact with the older boy while he talks to you.

“Do you remember the day they matched us up for challenges? You pinning me like that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I didn’t even care that you split my lip, I was just happy to have you on top of me.”

Holy shit.

You want to respond, to tell him how pretty he looked underneath you like that, all wide-eyed and blushing, but it’s hard to form words right now, let alone complete sentences.

Ridoc slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right, and you gasp, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Please, Ri,” you whimper, knowing that he can make you cum in the next minute if he wants to. “M’close.”

Sawyer tuts in disapproval. “Don’t beg him, pretty girl. Beg me.”

Ridoc hums his agreement, his tongue not leaving your clit, fingers continuing to press up against that little soft spot that feels so, so good.

You throw your shame out the window; the attention just feels too good and you’re too close, you couldn’t bear it if Ridoc pulled away again.

“Sawyer, please, m’ so close,” you cry, “wanna cum for you, need it so bad, please.”

Your eyes are wet with tears, vision blurring, but you can see Sawyer smile -- he’s feeling benevolent. “I think she’s earned it, Ri.”

Ten seconds tick by, and you shatter. Your eyes roll back, sweet little gasps and whines pouring from your lips as you squirm in Ridoc’s hold, one hand gripping the sheets, the other tangled in his hair.

This moment is going to play on a continuous loop in Sawyer’s mind forever.

Ridoc doesn’t stop until you’re trying to push him away, your legs squeezing together around his head, but he shoulders them apart easily. “Attagirl,” he praises, “did so good for us.”

He presses a few soft kisses to your thighs before rising onto his knees to face Sawyer. “You want a taste?” He asks, extending the two fingers he’d had buried in you a moment earlier, slick and glistening in the low light of the room.

“Of course I do.” Sawyer leans over you, licking them clean and moaning softly. “Taste fucking divine, princess.”

You’re still trying to catch your breath, but you sit up, resting your weight on your palms and looking to Ridoc for further instruction. Interesting.

Less than ten minutes ago, Sawyer would have bet that you were the one in charge here, given how the boy follows you around like a little lost puppy and would do literally anything you asked, but somehow this also makes total sense; Ridoc always radiates confidence, even when he has no idea what he’s doing, but he definitely just proved his expertise here.

Ridoc nods toward the other boy, and you slip off the mattress, sinking to your knees in front of Sawyer and looking up at him sweetly.

The way he towers over you makes your heart flutter.

He reaches down to brush your hair behind your ear, and you shiver at the gentle touch, sitting up straighter and leaning into his hand in a silent request for more. He strokes his thumb over your lower lip. “Wanna help me out here, pretty girl?”

You nod earnestly, waiting for him to say that you can touch him. “Yes, please.”

“Go ahead.”

He sighs in relief as you loosen his belt — he’s been painfully hard since he opened the door and saw you two together, and the tight fit of the flight leathers wasn’t helping his situation at all.

You make quick work of the buttons of his pants, tugging the stiff material down his legs.

“Is she always this eager to please?” Sawyer asks, looking over to Ridoc.

He nods, a smug grin on his face. “Only on days that end in Y.”

“Smartass,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

He gives you a warning look, the one that he gives you when you tease him too much in public, that means you’ll be in trouble later if you keep this up. “Behave.”

It’s rare for Sawyer to see the other boy so serious. It’s hotter than it should be.

You mumble an apology, returning your attention to Sawyer. You hook your fingers into the hem of his boxers, tugging them down, and your jaw drops. You suppose it stands to reason that every part of Sawyer would be as pretty as his face — he has the most gorgeous dick you’ve ever seen.

“Holy shit. You’ve been holding out on us, dude,” Ridoc says in disbelief.

Sawyer blushes. “Thanks? Ah,” he gasps, not expecting you to put your mouth on him so soon.

You lick a stripe up the length of him, flicking your tongue over the head softly.

“Don’t tease, baby,” Ridoc chides.

You don’t respond, but you do comply — wrapping your lips around him and bobbing your head gently.

His hand moves to rest on the back of your head, holding your hair away from your face as you take him deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, just like that.”

Ridoc gets up, moving to stand next to Sawyer and resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder, trailing kisses over the pale skin above the collar of his shirt.

“Gods,” Sawyer breathes, tilting his head back to give Ridoc better access — you aren’t surprised; you know exactly how good that feels.

You swallow around him, and he folds, his hips pushing forward on their own accord.

You gag, pulling back with a soft cough.

Ridoc laughs, still maintaining his sense of humor even in such an intimate situation. “Sorry, love.” He settles a firm hand on the back of Sawyer’s neck, bringing him down for a messy kiss.

You sit there for a moment, content just to watch them make out. It’s a little odd seeing your boyfriend with his tongue in someone else’s mouth, but it’s undeniably hot as fuck.

You bring a hand up to stroke Sawyer lazily, and he moans into Ridoc’s mouth at the feeling, hips bucking into your hand, chasing the pleasure.

Ridoc pulls him closer, tangling his hand in the short red-brown curls at the back of the boy’s neck and tugging.

Sawyer makes the prettiest sound; a cross between a gasp of surprise and a needy whine, but he pulls back, clutching Ridoc’s arm desperately. “Fuck, stop,” he pants, and both of you move away immediately, looking concerned.

He takes a second to catch his breath. “Sorry, just — was gonna cum if you kept doing that.”

“That’s kinda the whole point, dude,” Ridoc says dryly. He looks back down at you. “You want him to fuck you, princess?”

Sawyer looks like he’s going to faint.

“Yes, please,” you answer, your eyes not leaving Ridoc’s — you want this, want Sawyer, so badly, and you won’t give him any excuse to take it away.

He smiles. “So polite. Have at it, then,” he says, leaning against the desk and nodding toward his bed.

You sit, eagerly awaiting instruction as you had earlier.

Sawyer is remarkably gentle as he lays you down, keeping a hand on the top of your head to make sure you don’t hit it against the wall behind you.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks softly, squeezing your hip.

You nod, smiling up at him. “M’sure.”

“Hips up,” he coaxes, and you comply, letting him place a pillow underneath your lower back.

Oh, he absolutely knows what he’s doing.

He kneads your thighs gently, relaxing the muscle before he pulls you closer, parting your legs around his.

“Fuck, princess, you’re dripping,” he breathes.

You flush in embarrassment, but the thoughts quickly fade as he drags his fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness on his hand and using it to slick up his cock.

He slips into you easily, thanks to Ridoc’s efforts earlier. His eyes nearly cross at the feeling, lips parting in a soft moan. Each slow drag through your wet warmth feels like heaven, and you can see it on his face; jaw dropped, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded in ecstasy.

You’ve always thought he was pretty, but he’s absolutely gorgeous like this.

“Feels so good, princess, fuck,” he pants, gripping your hips tightly as he quickens his pace. “Perfect girl, taking me so well, wanted this for so long…”

You tug at his hands, trying to pull him closer. “Wanna kiss you,” you pout.

He slows, leaning down to capture your lips with his.

It feels different than kissing Ridoc, but it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels too good to be wrong. No, it’s new, every sensation heightened like you’ve never felt it before.

You whimper against his mouth, hands grabbing at his forearms to keep him close as you try to memorize the way he tastes, the shape of his lips…

You finally break away for air, dizzy and dazed, maintaining eye contact with him as he continues his slow pace, taking his time with you — he wants this moment to last forever.

“Harder,” Ridoc orders casually. “She won’t break. And she likes it a little rough, doesn’t she?”

Sawyer follows the direction without hesitation, adjusting your position to drape one of your legs over his hip and putting more weight into his movements.

Every stroke nudges the head of his cock against that little soft spot, and it’s so fucking good.

“How’s that feel, pretty girl?” He asks, even though it’s clear you absolutely love it.

“Really… good,” you manage, whining softly with every thrust, “so deep, fuck, right there,”

Ridoc stands, crossing the room and sliding two fingers into your open mouth. He doesn’t have to ask: you already know what to do, laving your tongue over them.

He reaches down to rub his spit-soaked fingers over your clit, and Sawyer chokes when the action makes you clamp down on him even harder. “Fuck, keep doing that,” he gasps.

Having both of their hands on you at once feels so fucking good -- you can’t hold it back much longer. “Please,” you breathe, looking between them, unsure who you’re supposed to be asking, but you don’t want either of them to stop. “M’ so close,”

“Shh, love, it’s okay,” Ridoc soothes, loosening your death grip on the sheets with his free hand and intertwining your fingers. “You can cum when you’re ready. Just want you to feel good.”

You nearly sob in relief. “Thank you, oh,”

Sawyer is convinced that this is just another one of his guilt-inducing wet dreams — that is just too good to be true.

The sight of you coming on Ridoc’s tongue was unforgettable, but to feel you coming around him is another thing entirely, so warm and wet and gods, the way you’re squeezing him… it’s enough to push him over the edge, too. He pulls out at the last second, spilling into his fist with a soft gasp.

“Holy shit,” he rasps, panting.

Ridoc offers him a tissue, which he accepts gratefully, cleaning off his hand.

“How are you feeling, love?” Ridoc asks softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead and pressing a kiss there.

“Good,” you pant, still coming down from your second high. “Just a little tired.”

He gives you a few soft kisses, stroking his thumb over your jaw gently.

You tug him closer — being with Sawyer felt so good, but right now you’re just craving the familiarity of your partner.

“Want you,” you say softly. “…Please.”

He smiles. “Of course, princess.”

Sawyer moves to get off the bed, but Ridoc stops him, motioning for them to switch places.

Ridoc sits you up carefully, Sawyer moving to settle against the wall behind you and letting you rest your head on his chest. “Comfy?“

You hum in affirmation, laying back against him.

“Just relax for us, princess,” Ridoc encourages gently, his hands smoothing over your thighs. He presses a soft kiss to your lips before he pulls back, giving himself three quick strokes and sinking into you.

Your breath catches. No matter how many times you’ve done this, that feeling will never get old, never be any less blissful. Your eyes drift shut, but this time Ridoc doesn’t protest, just letting you enjoy it as he starts to rock his hips against yours.

Sawyer continues to hold you close, hands brushing over your chest through the fabric of Ridoc’s shirt, which you’ve somehow managed to keep on this whole time.

His hands continue to wander, stroking over your ribs, up your arms… He’s just playing with you, exploring to see what feels good for you.

It’s nice, but you want more, want his skin on yours for real. You tug your arms out of the sleeves, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside, where it lands on the back of Sawyer’s desk chair.

“Gods, I’ll never get tired of that,” Ridoc groans, taking in the sight of your exposed breasts and the delicate lines beneath your left collarbone, swirls and stars and the gentle script of your dragon’s name that you’d had inked on your skin the same day he’d gotten his tattoo of Aotrom.

Sawyer leans down to nip at the side of your neck and you turn your head to look at him, tilting your chin up for a kiss.

You sigh into his mouth as he kneads at your chest, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your nipples.

“Fuck, princess, not gonna last,” Ridoc pants, quickening his pace. The sight of the two of you together is driving him to the edge.

Sawyer breaks away from your kiss, looking him in the eye. “Been such a good boy, waiting for us.”

Ridoc whines at the praise, his hips snapping against yours even faster now.

Sawyer continues, a sly smile on his face. “Look so cute like this, all desperate. You gonna show us how pretty you look when you cum? Bet you’re fucking gorgeous, baby.”

The other boy’s words are the last straw — Ridoc gasps, pushing forward as far as he can and gripping your waist tightly with freezing fingertips as the pleasure crests and he spills into you.

Sawyer’s right; he looks beautiful, lips parting in a pretty moan, eyes fluttering shut as he rides it out.

His grip on you loosens, and he collapses beside you, panting. “Holy shit. That was... I don’t think I’ve ever cum that fast in my life.”

Sawyer laughs. “Happy to help, dude.”

You reach a hand over to hold Ridoc’s, cuddling into Sawyer for a moment, the three of you quietly catching your breath.

The small window has fogged over, but you can tell it’s pitch black outside.

Sawyer holds you against his chest with one arm, reaching the other toward the tissue box on the nightstand so you can clean yourselves up — you’ll shower in the morning; right now you just want to go to sleep.

You gather the strength to get up after a minute, your legs a little shaky as you stand.

You don’t bother to search the floor for your underwear, having no idea where it ended up after Ridoc had yanked it off over an hour ago. You dig in his top drawer instead, producing a clean pair that you’d left here for occasions like this, and tossing a pair of his own at him.

You try to step through the leg holes, though you still haven’t fully regained your coordination— you stumble, but Sawyer catches you easily, holding you steady against his chest. You nuzzle your cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt, giggling.

“There’s no way you’re making it up two flights of stairs right now,” he says gently, helping you pull them on and slipping another of Ridoc’s shirts over your head.

He’s right — the last hour has relaxed you completely, leaving you feeling weightless and fuzzy. Stairs would definitely not be a good idea, nor attempting to shower.

Ridoc scoots over, all the way against the wall, patting the space next to him. “Get in here.”

Sawyer lets go of you, and you climb in beside Ridoc, the both of you looking at him expectantly.

“C’mon, man. You know you want to,” Ridoc coaxes, grinning.

Fuck, he does want to. There’s no denying it. Sawyer tugs the blanket off of his bed, draping it over you all as an extra layer and settling in next to you. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but it works.

“Dibs on being the middle spoon next time,” Ridoc says through a yawn, wrapping an arm around your hips to pull you closer.

Sawyer’s heart nearly stops. He hadn’t thought about there being a next time, about the emotional implications of hooking up with his two best friends who are already in a relationship with each other.

What would next time be like? Would you always be this cuddly after? Everybody knows that you two are dating already, but how would you fit him into that equation? How would you treat him beyond the four walls of this room? Is he supposed to pretend this never happened, that it doesn’t change anything?

Should it change anything? He’s had plenty of casual sex before in the two and a half years he’d spent at Basgiath, but this is different. He never cuddled with them after, never really wanted to. It never felt as good as tonight had before, either, but he doesn’t know if it’s because there were two of you at once, or if it was because it was you. He’s wanted you for months, dreamed about your body against his and watched your every move from a distance, trying to work up the courage to ask you out, but Ridoc hadn’t hesitated, winning you over quickly.

He’s always liked Ridoc. They had clicked immediately, but Sawyer had never really considered that he could be attracted to the guy until he had to move in with him and see him shirtless all the time. The feeling of the other boy kissing him confirmed it — there’s something there between them.

Is it possible to be in love with two people at once? Even if it is, what are the odds that both of you would let him into your hearts?

“G’night,” you murmur, cuddling into his side and letting out a soft sigh of contentment at the warmth of his skin.

He relaxes against you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, princess.”

Ridoc is already out cold beside you, snoring softly, but that won’t be what keeps Sawyer awake all night.

#sawyer henrick #ridoc gamlyn #ridoc gamlyn x reader #sawyer henrick x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing smut #18+#smut #mine #posting this from my phone. I hope it looks okay lmao #Ridoc Sawyer and Princess

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hoe4sports · 1 month

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Caroline Graham Hansen | When an accident occurs

A/N: Enjoy this little treat of mine. Caroline Graham´s wife is injured during a match and won't wake up again.

Triggers: Medical trauma, birth, angstttt -Day 64-

“Mrs. Graham, what I’m trying to say is that talking to her might help. Holding her hand might help. Patients like her often recall hearing their loved ones talking to them. She’s gonna have to have the fight of her life, and she needs you to fight with her. The baby needs to hear someone’s voice and feel someone’s touch. ” The doctor said as he looked over at me. We were sitting in one of the uncomfortable meeting rooms that was in connection to the intensive care unit. The unit that I had previously not had any relations to. The unit that now had my two most important things within their walls. Leaving me to be able to do nothing but to trust the doctors and nurses. I didn’t even know what to do without her. It had already been two months since the incident. The incident were she was tackled mid game by Lauren James causing her to go head first into the pole of the goal leaving her body lifeless on the ground for several minutes while the medical staff evacuated her. She was only four months pregnant when this happened. It was one of her last games. I had begged her to not play, but she told me to trust her. That everything would be okay and over within 90 minutes. The only issue was that after 25 minutes had passed, my life changed forever. This wasn’t according to plan at all. We were supposed to be in Norway, on our honeymoon before going back to Barcelona to give birth. Instead we were here, stuck in the coldness of the intense care unit. “That’s everything for now Mrs.Graham.” The doctor finished as he closed his binder. “Thank you Doctor” I muttered as I got up from the chair while the tears was burning in my eyes. I walked across the hall, to the right and then to room 4114.

-Day 68-

I walked into the doors of the icu. The nurses giving me apologetic smiles. I didn’t smile back or say anything. I couldn’t. My life had changed forever, and for every day that passed it felt like she was disappearing more and more into her own brain. Room 4114. I knocked on the door as if I was expecting her to open the door for me and ask me to sit. Her nurse welcomed me in, and I sat down in my usual chair next to my wife. She looked so peaceful. As if nothing had ever happened. Like she had slept in like she usually would on Sunday mornings. I don’t know how she still looked so beautiful. The nurse looked at me and smiled. “Today marks the start of week 29.” I was confused as I couldn’t understand what she meant. I shot her a confused look. “Your wife is now 29 weeks pregnant. She’s well today. Her bloodwork came back clear and her vitals are textbook perfect.” The nurse said as she stroke my wife’s hair. Always so perfect. The perfect girlfriend, the perfect wife, the perfect teammate and somehow even perfect in coma. “I’ll leave you alone now, I’m right outside if anything were to happens. Don’t hesitate to push the call button if I can do anything for you mrs. Graham.” She said as she disappeared around the corner of the room. I looked back at my perfect wife, and scooted my chair closer to the bed. “Kjeks is missing you. He sleeps on your side of the bed every night. He meows in the mornings as he walks around confused.” I started as I had to shift my gaze to not have a breakdown. “God, baby, I miss you. I am so lost without you.” I said as I grabbed her hand. I was terrified to break her, and I was scared that she was hurt. But the doctor said that I needed to do this, and I would do whatever it took to get her back. I slipped my hand under her blanket as I rested my hand on her belly. I could feel the baby kick. The feeling leaving me broken inside. “You would’ve loved to feel her kicks. She’s active. She loves to kick. The nurses says she might be a footballer. But i just want her to be alive.” I said as I paused. “Because if she dosent live, and you won’t live. Then I’m not sure I wanna live either.” I whispered as a tear rolled down my cheek.

-Day 80-

The doctor’s was sitting infront of me awaiting my decision. “If you need more time, mrs.Graham, we will respect your wishes and give you more time.” The doctor said with a Spanish like accent. The kind of accent I could recall her make when she made fun of Alexia’s terrible English. “Do it” I said sternly as I got up and walked out of the room. I made my way back the my wife’s room and sat down next to her. “I don’t know how to do this without you. But they need to get the baby out, and they say it’s to give you a better chance.” I swallowed. “But, I can’t help but wonder If they are taking her out so that they can say that they atleast saved one of you. But I would rather have you than the baby.” I said as I trailed off feeling the familiar burning sensation in my eyes. I grabbed her hand and kissed where she had tan lines from her wedding ring. “And don’t worry, kjære. Im not giving up on you. I have your ring with me everywhere just in case you wake up.” I said as I rubbed her hand. “I wish you could make this decision about the baby with me. I don’t know how to parent or how to be a mom. Please, please, please. Wake up kjære, wake up.» i said, but to no use. I was cut off as the doctors walked in ready to take our baby out. As if my wife was just some kind of incubator. Just a lifeline for the baby. But to me, she’s my wife. She’s everything. I can’t have this baby without her.

-Day 90-

I sat in the chair next to the doctors dissociating as they talked on about the usual stuff. How her night had been, how her body was handling and what they wanted to do moving forwards. They were going on about possible long term effects of the coma, but also talking about how her brain finally had gone down to normal size after being swollen for months. They were ramming about things like the baby, who was allowed to see my wife and that they was gonna try to wake her up today. They were also talking about how they had kept the baby next to her to give the baby time to feel her.

«Sorry, waking her up?” I asked as I snapped out of my own thoughts. “Like as in getting her out of the coma?” I repeated as I couldn’t believe my own two ears. “Yes, Mrs.Graham, we believe that we will be able to wake her up this time. Everything is coming back clear and the scans of her brain shows no further injuries as it has come down to normal size.” The doctor said while smiling at me. I was confused. Waking her up? That would mean she would be in pain, confused or even have memory loss. I don’t know what scares me the most; the thought of her waking up to her memory being gone, or her never waking up. “We know this is a lot to handle, but we are feeling optimistic. You are encouraged to be in the room when she wakes up. That’s all for now, mrs.Graham.” He said as the team of doctors stood up. I couldn’t stand yet. I was just sitting in the chair I had sat in every morning from 9-9.15 for 90 days.

I was ripped out of my chain of thoughts as a nurse tapped my shoulder with our baby in her hands. “She has been fed and changed. I think she might want her mom.” The nurse smiled as she cooed down towards the newborn, our newborn. She was surprisingly well for having been born so early. The oxygen was only needed for the first 48 hours after birth. I had a strained relationship with the baby. Benedicte had always wanted to be the first to hold her, and it tore me to pieces that she couldn’t. I had hold her a couple of times, but I didn’t wanna bond with her yet. I couldn’t, how could I when her mother, my wife was laying in a bed with tubes everywhere?

I was lead into her room again. 4114 as the nurse pushed me down in a chair, and put a pillow underneath my arm. She reached the baby towards me, and I reached my hands towards the baby. I carefully placed the baby in my lap. The nurse slipped out of the room, like she always would. “Hei lillevenn» i said as she grabbed my finger and cooed. Her little tiny hand was wrapped around my finger as if I was the only thing keeping her alive. I hadn’t really done anything to keep her alive. The nurses had been feeding her, changing her and bathing her. Soothing her when she needed soothing and giving her cuddles all day. «Mamma is gonna wake up soon, and then we can be a family like we were supposed to.” I said softly as I felt like an elephant had sat on my chest. “I’m sorry that I haven’t cared for you. Your mamma will be mad at me for it, but you see. I can’t live without your mamma. She is my everything.”‘I said as a tear escaped my eye. She started fussing which caused me to stress. I picked her up and put her towards my chest as I got up from the chair and reached towards the call button. I sighted as I stopped myself from letting the nurses have her.

“Shh, I don’t know how to do this lillevenn, but I’ll try my best” I said as I slowly started bouncing her carefully while I walked around the room while the machines monitoring Benedicte was beeping in a comforting matter. "Yea, that's it skatten min, you are safe, its okay, mom has got you" I said as she started to settle down. I looked down on Benedicte who was whining. She would makes sounds from time to time especially when the baby cried, so it wasn't abnormal. "I know baby, its okay, I'm taking care of her" I said as I tucked some of her hair behind her beautifully braided blonde hair while I kept rocking back and forward. The baby kept crying as a doctor and a nurse entered the room. "Just here to perform the usual checks" he said as he shot me an apologetic smile. "yea, go ahead" I said as if I had any right to decided what were to happen. I slipped outside of the room as she kept crying in a desperate attempt to calm her.

Her stroller stood just outside of her mothers room. I laid her down in the stroller which made her look even tinier. I then started slowly pushing the stroller, the stroller that my wife had picked out. It was a cyber e-praim. Benedicte had been eyeing the stroller for months, but had decided that it was too expensive. That's why I had left practice early one day blaming an injuring in my calf for needing physio. I had went straight to the shop were she had eyed the stroller down and purchased it before I brought it home and set it up for her. I remember how happy she was when she saw it when she got home before she had gasped thinking of the price. I didn't care about prices or money because no amount of money would ever repay the love and patience that she had given me. "Mrs.Graham" I voice said from the door of Benedicte´s room. I was down the hallway with the baby that had just fallen asleep in the stroller. "Yes, what's wrong?" I asked scared to death about what had happened. Last time they called me in like this, they had to have emergency surgery. The nurse smiled as I got closer to her as she nodded her head towards the inside of the room. "Your wife, she's awake" she said as I stopped in my tracks while feeling pure horror running wild in my veins. "Sorry?" I asked as I blinked hard to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. "Your wife is awake, and she's asking for you." she repeated as I looked between the blinds of the room. "Can I-" I started before I could hear my wife talking. "Is she here? Can I call her?" she said as she hadn't noticed me with a worried tone in her voice. God knows that I wasn't deserving of this woman. Even after being in a coma, she wasn't worried about her, but about me. "Yes mrs. Graham, you can see her"

"Skatt, i am so sorr-" she said as I walked towards her and cut her off. "Shh" I said as I sat down next to her legs on the mattress of the bed and pulled her head into my chest. "Everything is stable, so we will give you two a minute" the doctor said as I just nodded in response while my tears were streaming down my face. "Its not your fault, prinsesse. You couldn't have predicted this." I said as I held her tight and didn't wanna let her go ever again. I didn't know how I was supposed to ever let her out of my sight ever again. Her hand rested on my back as I could feel her left hand reaching for her previous baby bump. She pulled away with a look of horror on her face. "The baby" she whispered as tears were forming in her eyes. "Jenta mi, the baby is no-" I started as she cut me off. "no, god no, please don't say it, Caz. I don't wanna hear it." she said as she threw herself onto me. I rubbed her back and leaned down towards her ear. "The baby is in the stroller napping." Her head shoot up and her eyes widened. "She's here? She made it? She's okay? living?" she said as tears once against formed in her eyes. "Do you want me to get her?" I asked as she nodded rapidly with her hand on her belly while the other hand was over her mouth.

I walked out and stopped the stroller from rocking back and forth. She was in a hospital body, which I instantly regretted as I wished I had brought her clothes to the hospital. The wheels of the stroller rolled soundlessly into the hospital room, and I stopped her next to her bed. Benedicte instantly tried to get up, but I stopped her. "Let me get her for you, prinsesse. Your body isn't strong enough yet." I mumbled as I reached down for our girl and placed her on my wife's chest. God, this was the first time I had realized just how beautiful our daughter was. She had Benedicte´s eyes, her lips was just like her mothers, a cute button nose and lots of blonde hair. Benedicte couldn't stop staring at the little bundle of joy as her tears were steaming down her face. My hand touched Benedicte´s hair, stroking it carefully as I admired the pair. I couldn't believe it, my wife was here. For a second, I was filled with horror: what if this was all a dream?

"Caz, she is perfect" Benedicte cooed as she changed the position of the baby from her chest to her arms. "She's so beautiful" she spoke, and I instantly felt sick. I hadn't paid any attention to the baby as I was worried sick about Benedicte. I should've formed a bond with her, protected her and held her everyday. The baby probably thought that she had nobody on her side. "Caz, baby, when was she born? How? What was her weight and length?" she asked, not removing her eyes from the precious angel. "Uhm, She was born 10 days ago by c section because she was making you weaker by the hour." I said as I rubbed my neck and got my phone up from my pocket. I went into notes, where I had written everything down. One file for Benedicte and one for the baby. "She was just shy of 1100 grams and about 14 inches" I said as I popped my phone back into my pocket. "Look at mommy, she's already taking notes about you, lillevenn. That's what she is like, she is always attentive to details. You couldn’t have gotten a better mom even if you wanted to." she said to the baby as she kissed her forehead. "Hello Mrs. Graham, its truly a joy to see you awake." the doctor said as he walked into the room. "Im gonna have to ask you to do some test, which requires that the baby has to stay with mrs. Graham." Benedicte frowned. "I know that its not the one thing you wish to be doing, but we need to do mapping of your brain function. " the doctor explained as Benedicte reluctantly nodded. "Here, go to mommy, she will take care of you and then mamma will be right back" she whispered into the baby's ear before handing me the baby.

-Day 97-

I was walking up to the hospital with a bag in my hand. This time, I was bringing both my girls home. The team had been supportive and granted me the week off to help my wife become comfortable, and settle us into the new daily life. In my bag I had brought the clothes that Benedicte had picked out from the hospital for the baby and for herself. She hadn't really worn anything besides hospital clothes for a long time, so I was nervous about how she would handle it. Before I could see her, I talked to her doctors who explained that she was cleared to go, but that she might be sensitive to feelings for the first few weeks because she had suffered severe trauma.

"Hei jenta mi, ready to go home?" I asked as I stood in the doorway watching her cuddle with our baby. She shot her head up when she heard me and smiled. "Caz, yes! Im so excited!" she squealed as she sat herself up in the bed. She seemed stronger every day, but she wouldn't be able to go back to work for 12 weeks. It didnt seem to bother her. I handed her the bag and she put the baby down in the stroller. "Im gonna go get changed and have a shower. Will you get Celine changed?" she asked as she pressed a kiss to my cheek while skipping to the bathroom. I gulped. My relationship with little Celine wasn't really strong yet and I was terrified to hurt her.

I took out the outfit Benedicte had planned. A long sleeve pink onesie with ruffles around the neck, white tights and a soft pink dress. It was warm outside so it made sense to not dress her up too much. I carefully took the clothes off the baby and she immediately started fussing when the cool air touched her skin. "Shh, Celine, I know, Mommy is gonna be quick, okay?" I said as I wrestled the clothes on her. She was tiny, but lord knows she was strong. After 10 mins of getting her dressed and 10 mins of putting all of their belongings into the nike bag, Benedicte came out. Her appearance knocked the air out of me. It felt like the first time I saw her. She was having her long blonde hair down, light makeup, she was wearing my Barca nike pants with my number on it and a white nike tshirt. "What? do I have a bug in my face or something?" she said as she giggled. "Baby, its so refreshing to hear you talk and giggle again. I have missed you so much. You are so beautiful, skatt." I said as I embraced her.

"Alright, and here is the papers. Bring them with you to the doctor for the 2 month check up. Everything has been sorted." the nurse said as we stood by our car with the baby carefully strapped into the carseat and Benedicte sitting at the front with the door open. "Thank you" I said "for everything, really." I finished as I grabbed the paper. The nurse hugged Benedicte before going to the back of the car and poking Celine´s cheeks. She closed the doors and waved goodbye. I jumped into the car, and turned the car on. The summer breeze was in the air and the Barcelona sun was settling down. "Let´s go home, skatt. Let´s start our new life." I said as I squeezed her hand. She smiled and looked at me. "Let´s go home, Caz" as she kissed my cheek.

#woso imagine #caroline graham hansen #caroline graham hansen imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics

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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 5 months

Text

It's Called Murder, Baby!

A Scream inspired AU starring our favorite Stranger Things characters.

Part I

Part 2 here

This is set in the 90's - all of the "teens" are in their mid to late 20's.

Synopsis: A string of gruesome murders take a toll on the small town of Hawkins. Friends and family start looking like suspects making it hard to trust those who you are closest to.

Chapter Summary: A double homicide has the entire town reeling.

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

This work will contain elements of violent themes (depictions of crime scenes, murders, etc) and smut.

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. AFAB!Reader. Character deaths/murders (does not go into heavy detail in this chapter). Semi-Public Sex. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie. Allusions of cheating (but not really).

Word Count: 4.7K

Freshly showered, towel wrapped around your body with your hair hanging down in damp tendrils around your shoulders, you entered your shared bedroom with a still snoozing boyfriend. Hearing the small snores escaping him you almost didn’t want to disturb him. Almost.

“Eds, come on, we’re going to be late.” You shook his sleeping form, leaning down, brushing his sleep mussed hair from his face to give him a soft kiss to his temple.

He groaned, rolling over on his back. “Just five more minutessss.” He whined.

“Get your ass up! I can’t be late again, and I thought you were excited for today?” Pulling some fresh panties from the drawer, unwrapping the towel and letting it fall to the floor as you bent down to pull them up your legs.

Eddie peeked an eye open to look at you now on display for him. He had the perfect view of your naked backside.

“Mmmm. Hey.… sweetheart, you sure you can’t be few minutes late?” Voice still groggy from sleep as he licked his lips, sitting up, palming his already hardening length under the covers.

You finished pulling the material up over your hips, placing your hands there giving him a stern, unamused look.

“That's a no, then?” He halted his movements, but his eyes still roved the expanse of your bare skin.

“You’re insatiable.” Rolling your eyes and ignoring him, instead moving to finish getting dressed.

“Uhhhh… fine!” He huffed, throwing his head back onto the pillows.

The fresh scrapes and small bruises on his right knuckles caught your eye when he moved his hand up the sheets.

“You ok?” you nodded to the purple splotches and angry, raised skin.

“M’fine.” he looked down at them.

“My poor baby,” cooing as you walked over and gently took his hand, bringing his knuckles to meet your lips.

He watched you intently, adam's apple bobbing with a swallow as you finished examining the small contusions.

“Ok well, see you in a few.” Kissing his stubble laced cheek before scurrying away, leaving him always wanting more.

Once he had showered and dressed himself, coveralls tied at his waist and hair pulled back into a low bun he bounded down the hall into the kitchen where he expected to find you.

“Babe?” He called out, opening the fridge, grabbing the milk to make himself a quick breakfast.

“In here Eds.” Voice drifting from the living room.

He hummed to himself, taking a bowl from the shelf before adding his honeycombs.

“Holy shit! Eddie!” Your high-pitched tone startled him, nearly dropping the milk. He immediately sat it on the counter jogging over to where you sat on the couch.

“What? What's wrong?” He asked, eyes nervously scanning over you.

Your hand covered your mouth, as you pointed to the TV that your eyes were glued to.

“Look!” You exclaimed, already reaching for the remote to increase the volume.

You both watched in abject horror as the camera panned to EMS personnel pushing a gurney across a manicured lawn. It was evident a body lay beneath the white sheet.

A reporter for the state news came into focus, her microphone clutched close to her chest. The petite brunette was in Hawkins, in front of a home you both immediately recognized.

“This small town has been rocked by a gruesome discovery. Earlier this morning, the bodies of Jason Carver and his fiancé, Chrissy Cunningham were found by a family member. Preliminary reports indicate they were brutally attacked. No comment from Sheriff Hopper or Chief Deputy Harrington to confirm any other details for this ongoing investigation.”

“Eds?” You asked, eyes drifting to him momentarily.

“I've got to get to work!” You jumped up from the couch, running past him to slip on your heels and grabbing your small briefcase. “Let's go! Holy shit this huge!”

“Yeah, we can go. Let me grab my keys.” He was still attuned to the TV, but finally snapped out of it, plucking the keys from the bowl by the door and following you.

Your car was still in the shop, Eddie had been working on it for the past couple of days so he'd been dropping you off before heading in each day.

He still drove his van from high school. He knew enough about cars that he kept the old gal going; always stating there was no need to waste money on some new shiny toy when we've got old faithful. He was right.

You had to drive by the station on your way. Traffic was basically at a standstill. Various news vans precariously parked all around the building and roadway waiting to catch a glimpse of Hopper or Steve to ascertain any other details they might provide.

“Great, more attention than those assholes deserve.” Eddie mumbled under his breath. It was a double homicide, but you wondered had it been anyone else murdered would there be this much news media.

“Eds, be nice.” You soothed. “Besides, Chrissy wasn’t an asshole. She may have been bitchy at times, but she was always nice to me.”

“Yeah, to you. Need I remind you that bitch stiffed me the last time I fixed her fuckin’ car? We almost missed rent that month because of that bullshit.”

He reached for his pack of smokes, taking one between his lips and lighting it as he continued. “As if Carver couldn’t afford it? What a fuckin’ joke.”

“I’m sorry babe, but we won't have to worry about that happening again.” Giving him a small smile.

You gave yourself a once over, checking your makeup and hair in the mirror before shutting the visor.

“Eds, I'll walk the rest of the way.”

You leaned over the console kissing his cheek, but he grabbed your wrist when you turned before you could grab the handle.

“Are you sure? I can go around.” He was already checking the rear view to see if he could back up.

“No, it's ok. Maybe I can find Steve before heading over. See if I can get anything out of him.” You surveyed the building to see if any deputies were outside.

“Hey, I love you.” Grabbing your attention. “Go knock 'em dead.”

“I love you baby, but that's a little insensitive. People just died.” You leaned back over, placing a peck to his lips.

“Right,” he grinned. “Break a leg?”

“Bye Eddie.” Rolling your eyes but still blowing him a kiss once you closed the door and watched him drive away.

You knew you could get into the Sheriff's station around the side because you do it numerous times a week. Navigating around the other reporters and crew didn’t take long, some of them watching suspiciously as you went.

A door on the side of the station at the back of the alleyway that reads “STAFF ONLY” painted in bright yellow stops you only briefly. You peer through the small window, catching those bright blue eyes of the one and only Robin Buckley giving her a smile and wave.

She smiles up at you in return, getting up from her desk.

“Hey,” as she opens the door ushering you in. “Was wondering if you’d swing by today.”

Robin works reception for the station. It wasn’t something she wanted to do, but Steve had talked her into taking the job once he had gotten back from the academy and was hired full time. She wouldn’t admit it, but she enjoyed it. She was able to stay in the loop for most of the town gossip.

A quick hug hello and you followed her to the employee break room. Really more like a closet with a coffee maker and a small table with two chairs. It was cramped with only the two of you.

“Is he in yet?” you asked as she poured herself some coffee in a paper cup.

“What? No chit chat? Can’t pretend to be here for friendly conversation instead of business?” She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip, eyeing you over the rim. “Yeah, he’s in his office, but he’s in a mood today.”

“I think I can handle him. Thanks Rob!” as you headed down the hall.

It was a small operation. The reception area, with three desks; one was Robin’s situated up front and the other two were for Calvin Powell and Phil Callahan the other two deputies on payroll.

Down the hall past the breakroom, Hopper’s office was at the end. Steve’s was beside it to the right.

His door was closed, a brass plaque that read “Chief Deputy Steve Harrington” adorned the wooden surface. You took a moment smoothing your skirt, and straightening your top before lifting your hand to knock.

“Yeah?” His voice came muffled through the doorway.

You took it as an invitation, popping your head in.

He didn’t look up, papers and photos spread out in front of him. His brows knit in concentration as his hair was beginning to edge past his forehead from looking down all morning. You noted he needed a haircut. He kept it shorter these days but it was starting to curl at the ends.

He was dressed in his camel-colored uniform, sans his duty belt hung on the coat rack in the corner. It made him look so handsome, clean cut. A good upgrade from the polos he used to wear daily. Badge worn with pride, pinned to his chest.

“Hey stranger!” You finally spoke, scooting yourself into the room and letting the door fall closed behind you.

His eyes darted up when he heard your voice. Face lighting up with your presence, shooting you that million-dollar smile.

“Hey, you,” he shut the file in front of him, pushing it off to the side. “As much as I enjoy your company, you really shouldn’t be here today. If Hop catches you, it’ll be both our asses.”

“I swear, I’ll be quick.” You took the seat in front of him. “Anything you could tell me about what went down?” Batting your lashes as you spoke.

He sighed, sitting up a little straighter, folding his hand on the desk. “You know I can’t right now.”

“Steve, please? I need this. You know how big this would be for me?” You put on your best doe eyes, pouting your lip just a bit. It would nearly work every time. “Pretty please?”

He rolled his eyes, but his face softened. You knew you had him.

“Fine, I’ll give you one thing.” He held up his pointer finger for emphasis.

“OK! Anything!” You took your pad from your briefcase, pen in hand and waited for him to continue.

“Put that down, come here.” Nodding toward the space beside him.

You ease from your position and round the large wooden desk, but instead of showing you something from the case file he pulls you into his lap.

You let out a squeak of surprise as your hand lands on his chest but can’t feel his usual warmth through the layers of fabric and added vest.

A large hand comes to rest on your thigh as his other cradles your cheek and jaw, turning your face towards his. You can feel your heart begin to hammer against your chest.

“I can give you this.” His nose nudging yours as he spoke.

Quickly closing the gap, his warm, waiting lips meld into yours as you wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him closer.

Pliant to his movements, allowing his tongue entry with no hesitation as they begin to move against one another. The taste of nicotine was faintly there mixed with his morning coffee.

The seconds ticked by before finally breaking apart, foreheads resting together as you try to catch your breath. Small pants being exchanged in the space between you.

His voice came out a little strained, “It’s been too long.” Closing his eyes as he said it.

“Steve, it’s only been a couple of days.” You let out a small breathy laugh.

He tilted your head to have better access to your neck, his nose following the curve of your jaw peppering kisses as he eased his way down.

“Baby, I’ve got to get over to the post. I'm already running late.” You moved to get up, as he pouted, hands trying, longing to pull you back in.

He relented and watched as you slipped out of your heels, and quickly moved to lock the door. Looking over your shoulder with a devilish glint in your eye.

“Better make it quick.” You smirked.

You’d never seen him move so quickly. The office held a small loveseat in the corner that he immediately moved over to and planted himself back down.

His cock was outlined in his police issued khakis, straining against the fabric as he began to palm himself watching you with already half-lidded eyes. It didn’t take much for him to get riled up. Steve was wrapped around your finger.

Time was short, foreplay would almost be non-existent, which he hated. He loved nothing more than to take his time. Working you up so you’d be gushing around him.

He gave you an outstretched palm when you got close, gripping your hand helping you to balance as you straddled him. Your skirt bunched at the waist, as your clothed core brushed up against his already throbbing hard-on, making your legs give out the slightest as you caged in around his.

Once you were seated, he moved his hands up your bare thighs, stopping when he reached the edge of your panties. Pussy straddling his hard length, as you felt it kick up beneath you causing a fresh wave of arousal as you clenched around nothing.

You thread your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck and toyed with the collar of his shirt as you looked into those usually caramel-colored eyes blown so full of lust that only the faintest ring of color still existed at the edges.

You leaned down, taking his lips once more as you ground your hips into his eliciting moans from both of you.

“Honey, if we had all the time in the world, I’d worship your body but we probably have ten minutes max before Robin tries to bust through that door.” He pecked your lips and moved his hand to your still clothed core.

He moved your panties to the side, running a finger gently through your folds, barely grazing your clit as he eased up. The faint touch was enough to make you jolt forward.

“Already wet, baby?” he cooed.

“Mmmm… Yeah Stevie, always for you.”

He eased his way back down collecting some of your slick before moving back up, applying more pressure to your bundle of nerves, drawing small circles there.

Your back arched and your toes curled. He barely touched you but it felt as though you were already teetering on the edge.

“Steve, I need you.” You breathed out.

“I’ve got you baby.” He kissed your cheek, “You wanna help me out?”

His eyes and fingers never left you as you scooted back giving yourself enough room to reach down, undoing his belt.

You fumbled just a bit as he momentarily stopped his ministrations to let out a breathy chuckle.

The zipper gave with ease as you were able to reach into his briefs. Your hand grazed his shaft as he hissed at the contact.

You removed him from his confinements, wrapping your hand around his girthy member. Your thumb slid over his fat mushroom tip as you smeared a bead of precum around and edged your way back down.

“Fuck, honey.” His head fell back against the couch, jaw going slack, and closing his eyes.

You were just as bad off as he was right now, so you opted to put the both of you out of your misery. You gently eased his hand from you and slid the material back to the side sitting up just enough to slide his bare cock through your folds.

As soon as his tip caught your entrance, you started the slow descent, moaning in unison at the feeling, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

You knew there would be a sting. There always was but with no foreplay or orgasm already drawn, it was almost too much.

Inch by delicious inch you bullied your way down onto him until he was finally seated snug inside of your tight heat. You raised your hips, just to slam them back down as you let out a particularly loud moan.

He quickly pulled you up, placing his palm over your mouth as his other hand wound around your waist, halting your movement.

“Shhhh babydoll, you’ve got to be quiet.” His eyes shifting momentarily to the closed door. “We can’t let anyone hear.”

You nodded but he didn’t remove his hand, instead tightening his hold on your waist as he started to piston his hips instead, fucking up into you.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, hands now clutching his shirt where they were planted on his chest.

“It’s probably better if I take over, huh?” Each word punctuated with an upward thrust. Punching the air from your lungs each time.

All you could do is nod once more.

His cock was hitting that sweet spongy spot as the wiry hairs at the base of his cock was hitting your clit just right. Your orgasm was fast approaching.

You couldn’t warn him as your walls fluttered and began to clamp down around him as a muffled scream came out.

“Oh shit, honey. Cumming already?” he mocked. “Guess you missed me too.”

Your orgasm washed over you, his cock relentlessly massaging your walls, working you through it. A few more sloppy thrusts he followed behind with a low groan, as he painted your walls with his hot, sticky spend.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He softly spoke.

He lowered his hand from your mouth and kissed your forehead as you collapsed forward.

“Fuck, Steve.” You huffed a heavy sigh, looking at your watch with a groan.

“Shit, I've got to go,” you pushed off him and stood as he quickly tucked himself back into his pants and smoothed his hair back into place.

“They were both stabbed.” He huffed out as he stood.

“Huh?” With the post orgasmic haze still lingering you couldn’t fully process what he said.

“You wanted something. Jason and Chrissy. They were stabbed. Chrissy was worse. Whoever did this, it feels personal.” He looked to the floor. “She was strung up and practically gutted.”

Your stomach lurched at the thought of the crime scene. You slowly gather your things; Smoothing out your skirt and fixing your top before slipping back into your heels.

“Thank you,” you kissed his cheek and brushed past him, hand settled on the lock, clicking it back into place and opening the door.

“Could I see you again later? My place?” He said in a more hushed tone that halted your movement as you looked back at him.

His eyes were back to their caramel swirls, pleadingly staring at you.

“I can't. My car is still in the shop and Eddie's got me on kind of a tight leash right now.”

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, with a tight lipped smile.

You started to apologize but he quickly turned away from you.

“Can you close that on your way out?”

Your gaze lingered on him for a moment, “yeah, I got it.” Easing yourself into the hallway and closing the door behind you with a soft click.

Each time you left him like this it got a little harder. Telling yourself it's easier this way. You have a good fuck and go back home. Feelings are messy so you keep him at an arm's length.

You caught your reflection in the mirror on the way out. You reapplied your lipstick, swiping an errant smudge and fixing a few stray hairs.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The voice of deputy Callahan, suddenly right in your space. “Sheriff said no press.” He crossed his arms looking down his nose at you.

“I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just here visiting friends. As if you don’t see me here at least once a week.” You made to walk past him but he stood in your way blocking the small hallway.

“Excuse me.”

He didn't budge. Only moving his face closer to yours. Trying to be intimidating only making you raise an eyebrow in question. He was a piss poor excuse for a cop, an even worse man.

“Right, a visit. Like no one knows why you come by. Or why Harrington's door is always locked.” He donned a sickly-sweet smile, before it was quickly wiped away by Steve’s booming voice coming from behind you.

“Callahan! Need to get something off your chest?”

He stood a few feet away with one hand on his hip, the other resting on the gun in his belt. He was intimidating. His very essence exuded confidence.

Callahan's head snapped up. Eyes wide with shock from being caught.

“Uh, no Chief… j… just escorting the press off the premises. Like the Sheriff asked.” his shoulders deflated just a bit under the other man’s hardened gaze.

You skirted past him, not bothering to look at the asshole in front of you instead catching Steve’s eyes over the other man's shoulder, throwing him a wink and a smirk before slipping back down the hall.

You quickly said your goodbye to Robin before exiting out the front.

The news reporters perked up but were quickly discouraged when they noticed you weren’t who they were hoping for. You smiled to yourself knowing you were about to go break the story that everyone wanted to know.

Hawkins Post was just a block down from the station. You were running exceptionally late, even by your standards but you were sure you could smooth it over with the boss once he heard the news you were about to drop.

Starting work straight out of high school for the post was hard. A woman in a man’s world. Nancy and you starting at the bottom, working your way up, now getting stories published at least once a week.

You burst through the door to see everyone scrambling about, no doubt working an angle. Clawing over each other for something newsworthy that hadn’t already been released. You weren’t worried about who you needed to run over to get it first.

Scanning the room, you spot Nancy in what looked like a heated conversation with Fred Benson. She was dressed in her usual skirt with matching suit jacket, hair perfectly in place as always.

She stopped mid-sentence once she spotted you.

“Finally!” she marched over, immediately grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward a quiet corner. For a petite woman, she could be very intimidating, downright scary at times.

“Good morning to you too Nance.” You said, as she turned you face to face and leaned in.

“Can you believe this?” She quietly hissed, eyes quickly scanning the room to see if anyone was watching the two of you.

“Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham?” She shook her head in disbelief. “It’s just… crazy. Who would do this?”

Her big eyes finally looked back up expectantly.

“What?” you asked.

“Please tell me the reason you were late is that you have something and not because you couldn’t get Eddie out of bed again.”

“Well, Nance,” you laughed, “it’s a little of both so…”

“Thank God!” she reached out and grabbed your shoulders pulling you in for a quick hug. “We've got a meeting with Holloway in an hour!”

Tom was a hard ass, misogynistic bastard but he knew good news when he heard it and was a damn good Chief Editor.

“And you have a good source for this?” He looked up from an article he was editing, eyeing you from above the edge of his glasses placed at the end of his nose.

“The best! When have I ever steered you wrong Chief?” You flashed him your brightest smile.

“Ladies, you know we have to tread carefully here. This wasn’t just any homicide. You both know Jason’s dad owns the Post.” He huffed, knowing his hands were a little tied on this one.

“I’m going to be as tactful as possible here. We can leave out the worst of the how, but I also had an anonymous tip that looks like it’s going to pan out.”

He raised his brows, “I’m listening.”

Nancy wasn’t sure where this was going, looking over at you with a confused look.

“The investigating officers found a mask at the scene. It’s mass-produced, sold as part of a Halloween costume. Some peanut eyed ghost guy. Hard to trace. Hell, I bet Melvald’s had the same one on their shelves this past Halloween.”

You could feel Nancy’s eyes boring into the side of your face. You had shared the information with her on the way to talk to Tom but left out this little detail.

He drummed his fingers on the desk, while you waited with bated breath.

“Okay, write it up! I want it in an hour! And remember, tactful!”

“On it Chief!” you jumped from your chair; Nancy hot on your heels as she followed you to your small desk. Taking her seat right beside yours, gathering some notes in front of her.

“You got an anonymous tip?” She asked.

“Huh? Yeah. I got a call right before our meeting.” You answered without looking up from typing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know… I…” Your phone ringing abruptly pausing the conversation, for which you were grateful. “Hold that thought Nance.”

“Hawkins Post,” you cheerfully greeted.

“Hey sweetheart! How’d it go?” Eddie’s velvety voice came through.

“I got the byline baby! Tom is going to let me run with it.” You couldn’t contain the enthusiasm, even with the nature of the article.

“I guess visiting your boy toy paid off, huh?” he huffed a small laugh.

“Jealous?” twirling the cord with your finger.

“Nah, I got nothin’ to worry about, we both know who you come home to, ‘sides,” he lowered his voice an octave, whispering through the receiver. “You know who that sweet pussy really belongs to, huh sweetheart?”

His words went straight to your core, making you subconsciously rub your legs together under the desk. He really knew what he was doing.

“Bet you're squirming in that seat thinking about my cock right now.”

“M’hmmm.” All you could reply.

“I know you are sweet thing, but” voice back to normal, “I’ll see you later. Boss wants to see me and Billy both in his office. Wish me luck?”

“Good luck Eds. Love you.”

“Love you too sweetheart. I’ll see you this afternoon.” He hung up. You turned toward Nance only finding an empty seat; now nowhere to be seen so instead, you got back to work.

By noon, you were staring at a front-page article printed with your name and a breaking story that no one saw coming.

Dubbed the ‘Ghostface’ Killer, this apparent masked maniac prayed on two of this little town's prominent souls without seemingly any remorse.

Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham were found brutally slain in their shared home earlier this morning by a family member, Chrissy’s mother Laura Cunningham, after numerous phone calls to reach the couple were all in vain. (She declined to comment).

An anonymous source states that the couple was stabbed to death. Due to the nature of the crime, it seems very personal. Details have not yet been released. (No comment from Roane County Sheriff Jim Hopper or Chief Deputy Steve Harrington at this time.)

An anonymous tip has also noted that the investigating officers found a mass-produced Halloween mask at the scene. This particular mask was sold in stores all over the city and state this past Halloween making it practically impossible to trace. (No comment from Roane County Sheriff Jim Hopper or Chief Deputy Steve Harrington at this time.)

A crime of this caliber hasn’t rocked the quiet town of Hawkins since the death of Principal Ronald Higgins in the Spring of 1986 by one of Hawkin’s High School students Henry Creel.

More to come as this story unfolds.

198 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 11 months

Text

I'm on Fire//biker!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//Part 11

18+Only, pls no minors, jealous!Eddie, biker!Steve, possessiveness, mention of violence, alcohol consumption, mention of sex, rich people being rich, celebrity sighting, reader wears a dress and heels (for the sake of this story, please pretend that designers made dresses for all sizes in the 90's), dirty deeds, mention of an abusive relationship, being in love. Word count: 8.4k

Summary: As Eddie falls for you more and more, his jealousy comes to the surface. You have a scare as something reminds you of a bad relationship from your past, and you go out to dinner with a potential client, forcing Eddie to profess his feelings as he struggles with the fear of losing you. Steve is offered a new job opportunity that sounds almost too good to be true.

Series Masterlist

A/N: It's been a long time coming 🙃 I am worried that writing the next chapter might get me pregnant. Your comments/messages about this story mean everything to me, and this story wouldn't even exist without the love you've shown it. Thank you, I love you.

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I'm on Fire Part 11: No Ordinary Love

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Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer while you were working that night to make the non-verbal announcement that you were his girl to anyone who might not know it yet, and you took your break so he could fill you in on some of the drama with Steve. He sucked down two cigarettes in the span of 15 minutes, and you could tell that the stress was getting to him.

“Poor Robin,” your eyes glazed over a bit as you stared at the ground, your heart hurting. “She must be a wreck.”

Eddie nodded as he blew smoke to the side. “This isn’t even about Oliver, that greedy bitch just wants more money.”

You searched his face, trying to understand. “You mean, she doesn’t want Oliver in her life?”

Eddie shot the corners of his mouth down in a frown as he flicked ash to the pavement. “Hell no. Steve basically has to pay her off every now and then just so she will leave them alone,” and then Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the empty space in front of him. “No one is taking Oliver away, I can promise you that.”

Eddie stepped back to look you up and down, licking his lips, bucking his chin. “Has anyone tried to hit on you tonight?”

“Eddie…” you sighed and rolled your eyes a little.

“I’m serious,” he finished his cig and threw it to the ground. “I don’t want any of these fuckers thinking they can touch you.”

“Baby,” you wrapped your arms around him and put your head to his chest. “It’s just a job, and no one gets to touch me but you.”

“That’s fucking right,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss you. You still didn’t know that Charlene was the reason you lost the job you loved as a gallery director, and keeping that from you continued to gnaw at him.

He grabbed your chin to force your gaze up to meet his. “I’m dead serious, babe. It’s a respect thing. If anyone crosses a line with you in here, I’ll find out about it, and I’ll break their fucking hand.”

He wasn’t trying to scare you, personally, but his tone was intense, and a drastic change to how he normally spoke to you.

“I know, baby,” you answered in a whisper, suddenly feeling a damp heat between your thighs at his possessiveness over you.

The outfit you were wearing must’ve been turning him on too, because he groaned against your mouth, pulling your hips against his, not caring that the friction shot a ripple of pain into his stab wound.

“You’re gonna make me go back into work all turned on, babe,” you breathed between kisses. You slipped your hands around his ribs under the warmth of his leather.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, fingers digging into your thighs. “I’m about to take you right here. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

You pulled back to search his face, your brows knitting together. “Yeah, why have we been waiting?”

Eddie picked up the back of your skirt so that his middle finger could rub your slit over your underwear while he palmed your ass and it made you whimper. “I wanted it to be...special, I guess,” he admitted, brushing your lips with his, his finger teasing the soft skin at your underwear line.

“You just got stabbed, baby. I don’t want you to---”

“Shhhhhhh,” he said, rubbing his nose against yours. “It’s not my first stab wound baby, and it won’t be my last.”

“Wait,” you put your hand on his chest. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”

Just then the door to the bar flew open with a bang, like someone had kicked it, Sex on Wheelz by My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult blasting into the alleyway, and Eddie did quick work of moving in front of you, blocking your raised skirt from view while you adjusted yourself, and he was glaring at whoever it was.

Jackie stepped out with a Pall Mall between her lips, and paused to shoot the two of you a curious look, wiggling her brows. “What’s been going on out here, kids? None of that hanky panky, I hope.”

----------

A day later, there was a very familiar hunter green SUV parked outside of your place when you rolled around the corner to park in the driveway after some grocery shopping. It as a fairly popular model, and so you didn’t think much of it until you saw that the plates were from Michigan---the state you’d lived in until a year ago when you finally accepted Katie’s invitation to move in with her.

A freezing cold flush of blood burst through your veins as you sat in your car, afraid to get out.

The fear that your ex-fiance Craig would find you and come knocking on your door one day never left you, but your defenses had been lowering as you got comfortable in Hawkins; maybe you’d gotten too comfortable. Maybe you hadn’t covered your tracks enough and someone from your past had told him where you were.

Everything you’d been through in the past few weeks, and now this? You were actually too petrified to move, thinking maybe it was better to start your car up and drive away. But, if he knew where you lived, you would never be free of him. You’d have to get another restraining order, which never did any good anyway. You might even have to move again.

Tears threatened behind your eyes, as adrenaline pumped through you, but then you glanced up and saw Katie come around the corner of the house with an older woman in a floral pantsuit and a bob of gray hair.

Katie paused, and bent down to give you a questioning look, wondering why you were still sitting in your car, lurking. You watched the gray haired woman walk over to the SUV and unlock it with her key, as a gust of stale air escaped your chest with a hiss.

The hunter green SUV belonged to another teacher from the school, Ms. Olsen, and later on, once you were in the house, you told Katie about your moment of panic.

“God,” she was perched on the arm of the sofa. “You really think that piece of shit would go through that much trouble to find you? And then drive all the way out here?”

“In a heartbeat,” you said, pressing your dry lips together. “But, as far as Craig knows, I moved to Oregon to live near my mom, so Hawkins would be completely off his radar. I hope so, anyway.”

Katie stood up. “Well, thankfully it was just a scare. Holy shit, by the look on your face I thought you caught Eddie with another girl again or something.”

You huffed a heavy breath as you dropped your bag onto the side table. “Yeah, I still have the photos. Maybe we should have them framed or something. To remember the good ol’ times.”

“I’m taking Robin out for happy hour to try and get her mind off of things,” Katie called to you as she opened the refrigerator and bent in to grab a soda. She was on her lunch break and on her way back to the school. “Do you want to come with? Just us girls? Steve has Ollie at the tattoo shop with him.”

You declined the offer only because you still needed to call John Gregson, and you wanted to catch him during office hours.

It took a while to get beeped through to his personal secretary, but when she finally took your call, she told you that Mr. Gregson was out of the office, but that she would get a message to him for you. Her snobby tone gave you the feeling that she was going to throw your message in the trash the second you hung up, but not five minutes later---he called you back.

“Hey there,” he beamed. You could hear him smiling through the phone. “I’m sorry my secretary made you wait. I told her to patch you through to my personal line next time.”

“I’m surprised you even remembered my name,” you were standing at the counter in front of a pad of paper with a pen in your hand just in case you needed to write anything down.

You’d be lying if you said the first few minutes of the conversation were completely innocent and did not dabble in flirtation. Your loyalty to Eddie was deep, but kindling a bit of a friendship with John was a necessary evil for the time being. A couple thousand dollars for a painting and a chance to let Charlene know you had tricks too? Priceless.

While he was letting you know what size canvas he wanted and some prominent color choices, you drifted off a bit, wondering if John knew about Charlene’s affair. Affairs, plural? You did not get the sense that he was at all lacking in cognitive function, and since he was such a successful business man, you assumed he could read people pretty well.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

He had to repeat it because your mind had gone rogue.

“Dinner? Tonight?” He continued. “With me.”

You had zero romantic feelings for John—your heart was very much engaged elsewhere---so you could shrug it off as a platonic business deal. But, you also couldn’t help but wonder how your newly christened boyfriend Eddie would feel about it. Appearances aside, he had to understand that, much like the guys you were nice to at the Velvet Hammer---it was just a job. Plus, John was very openly married, and attempting a blatant affair with you wouldn’t be a bright move.

Still, it felt like he was asking you on date.

“I could come to your office tomorrow? I’m free all day.” You offered.

“I won’t be in the office tomorrow, I’m flying to Boston for the rest of the week, but I could pick you up later today around 7:00?” He sounded humble, but at the same time very sure of himself. “You see, there is this new restaurant on the lake with a collection of artwork I’d think you’d enjoy. We could talk about the commission there in a more relaxed setting.”

You swallowed. He was very persuasive, you’d give him that. You knew the exact restaurant he was talking about; Sakura Black was owned by a movie star who had a vacation home in town. It was strictly reservation only and you’d always wanted to see what it was like on the inside. There was a private airport nearby and helicopter pad on the roof for the wealthy elite to pop over from the city for dinner to enjoy “small town life”.

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a few seconds, doodling frantic circles all over the pad of paper with your pen, and then you accepted.

“Well, you just made my day,” John told you.

After you hung up the phone, your hand stayed on the receiver, and you said, “fuck,” under your breath.

--------

“What do you mean he asked you out to dinner? You mean, like a date?” Eddie asked gruffly.

Eddie was in his coveralls with an over sized wrench in his hand with grease smeared across his cheek and thighs. You showed up at the garage about an hour after you’d talked to John, feeling like this was a conversation that needed to happen in person.

He frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk in the office. His new part time helper Dana had just left and Wayne was away having one of his chemo treatments. He was leaning away from you, teeth grinding, jaw muscles flexing, as he absorbed the news. He had been damn near giddy when he saw you park and walk over; eagerly pulling your mouth to his as a smile stretched his lips. “Damn, I’ve missed my girl,” he’d murmured as he nuzzled your nose, and then the three other mechanics behind him started whistling and shouting, “get a room!” To which Eddie grabbed your hand and flipped them off.

“It’s not a romantic date, baby. He just wants to talk about this commission I’m going to do for him,” you soothed, giving him space as you rested your shoulder against the green metal door.

“Sure he does,” Eddie chided. But then he sucked his teeth and tried to cool the hot emotions that were bubbling up. “What did you say his name was?”

This was the even trickier part.

You sighed and rubbed your fingers across your forehead before you met his gaze again. “His name is John. John Gregson.”

Eddie snorted and turned on his heel, rubbing his hands down his face. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, babe. Please tell me you’re joking?” After keeping his back to you for a bit, shoulders tight, he finally turned around to face you and tapped the desk with his knuckle as he spoke. “You know who he is, right? Who he’s married to?”

You nodded as you gazed at the scuffed toes of his boots and the frayed ends of his coveralls where they sat at his laces.

Eddie gave a few slow blinks, spreading his fingers on the desk to brace himself as he leaned. “I don’t feel good about this, babe. I don’t want you alone with this guy.”

You did your best to explain the situation to him, going all the way back to when John purchased some art from an outdoor festival you participated in a few years ago, to how he recognized you at the Velvet Hammer, and then Steve giving you his card to hopefully bring some money your way.

Eddie waited, but his expression of doubt stayed the same. “Listen,” he ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and came a bit closer to you, crossing his arms again. “I appreciate that you told me. But you don’t know these people, baby. They are rich and they are mean. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want at the end of the day. John might seem like a decent dude, but I’d bet money that he’s no different.”

As Eddie said it, he knew there was a lot of his ego involved in trying to talk you out of it. It was his fault you lost the job as a gallery director—a job that you loved---and he wondered if he was being selfish in trying to keep you from whatever amount of money you could get from what’s his name. The last thing he wanted to do was push you away, and if anything could, it would be his jealousy. He was sure it had pushed people away in the past.

Eddie bowed his head, and you moved into his orbit, tugging his crossed arms down so he would lower them and let you in. “I’m fucking filthy, baby,” he said as you put your head to his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He placed his cheek on the top of your head. You nuzzled him, inhaling the scent of car exhaust and motor oil and the earthy soft undertones of his warm skin.

“Oh, god, don’t I know it,” you teased, pinching a handful of his ass.

He barked a low laugh despite himself and tightened his arms around you. “You make me this way.”

You swayed there together for a bit before he huffed out a heavy breath. “So, what time is your date?” He bit out the word ‘date’ so hard, his jaw clicked.

You pushed off of him, exasperated, and slightly offended. “Baby, it’s not a date. He doesn’t mean anything to me, it’s just like a…business thing. You know how much I love---”

But then the rest of it kind of choked in your throat, and you doubted yourself, and you clamped your mouth shut to keep any more from escaping. You didn’t doubt your feelings for him, but you doubted that blurting it out in that moment was the right thing to do.

Both of you were simultaneously paranoid that you’d scare the other one off by being too blunt about your feelings. Why? Because any time you had confessed your feelings to someone in the past, they either ruined your life or left you; there was no happy medium.

“Yeah? You love what?” Eddie waited, searching your face, interlacing his fingers with yours, anticipation burning in his chest.

You started to fidget under his intense gaze, shifting your attention around the room. “I-I love your stupid face.”

He squeezed your hand, and leaned in to press his lips flush against your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. “Ditto, babe.”

--------

Eddie was not smiling when you left the garage. You told him all of the details, including what time you were being picked up, the name of the restaurant (he rolled his eyes), and you told him you’d call the second you got home.

“Or, call me from the restaurant if he gets handsy or some stupid shit,” he added with a frown. “It would be my pleasure to go to jail for bouncing that clown into next week.”

You did all you could to comfort him, but at the end of the day, he was a grown man who needed to understand that you were excited for not only the money, but for the opportunity to be doing what you loved again. You felt like you’d lost your spark lately and you were anxious to get it back.

It was around 4 o’clock when you pulled up to the curb at the chocolate brown duplex with white trim that you shared with Katie. From behind the wheel, you spotted what looked like a big, flat white box with a string tied in a bow at the top. As you got closer, with your keys and bag in your hand, you realized there was a fancy note card on it addressed to you.

You put it on the island in the kitchen and started at it while your tongue slid across your teeth in contemplation. The store on the tag was from a French boutique in Chicago that you had never heard of in your life.

The inside of the card said: “I forgot to ask if you had something casual but elegant for tonight. See you at 7:00 -- J.”

Once you opened the lid of the box and pulled the tissue paper back, you let out a small gasp at the Dolce & Gabbana label staring you in the face. It was simple black dress with red lining, knee length but with a high slit up the leg, strapless, and there was a black choker and heels to match.

You hated to admit it, but perhaps Eddie’s read on John had been a tad on-the-nose.

--------

“Whoa there Julia Roberts,” Katie joked as you walked out to the living room at 6:45, trying to steady yourself on your new heels. “Is Richard Gere picking you up or what?”

Robin was there too and she spun around on the couch to whistle at you. “Good god, woman, Eddie should see you now. He’d blow a gasket.”

Under your breath you responded, “maybe, but not for the reason you’d think.”

Katie rested her hip on the back of the couch and combed her fingers through Robin’s hair as she raised her eyebrow at you. “Where are you going looking like a stick of dynamite? You look too nice for the Hammer.”

You opened your clutch to make sure you had the necessities. “I’m going to dinner with a potential client who wants to commission a painting,” you were withholding the bigger truth because you wanted to avoid getting into a discussion about it. “It’s not a big deal, I should be home in a few hours.”

Robin and Katie exchanged a look.

They did make sure to peak through the blinds when your ride arrived, though, and saw that it wasn’t just any old ride: it was a sleek, black Rolls-Royce, complete with chauffeur, and the man who got out to open the door for you was unarguably handsome and dapper. Salt n’ Pepper hair that was thick and a little wavy on top, tan skin, and what appeared to be an expensive, tailored suit. Once you had slipped into your seat behind the dark tinted windows, the man actually glanced up and caught the two girls watching, to which he gave a charming smile and a wave.

“THAT’S the client she’s going to dinner with?” Katie balked, realizing there was a lot you weren’t telling her. “He looks like Robert fucking Redford.”

“Oh, shit,” Robin whispered, her chin on Katie’s shoulder. “I think I know who that is. I can’t remember his name, but his face is always in the paper. Pretty sure he owns most of this town.”

You braced your hands on the smooth leather seat on either side of your hips as John found his place next to you and offered you a glass of champagne. “Or sparkling water, or gin, if you prefer?”

“Champagne sounds great,” you said with a quiver on your lips. You were too intimidated to admit you’d never been in a Rolls-Royce before, or any car worth its value.

He popped the cork and poured you a glass flute, his eyes covertly flashing to your legs as he worked. “I’m happy to see the dress fit. It looks like it was made for you.”

You cleared your throat as he passed your beverage over. “I’m nervous to spill on it. I think it costs more than my car.”

John smiled against the rim of his glass as he spoke. “If anything happens to it, we’ll just buy you another one,” he assured you with a wink.

----------

Around the same time you found the dress on your porch earlier that day, Steve picked up the phone at the shop after three rings, just before the machine was about to get it. He was in the middle of working on matching ankle tattoos for two sisters, and Oliver was at his special kid-sized plastic desk in the corner scrawling with crayons in a coloring book. Molly, the tattoo artist he rented a chair from was deeply absorbed in getting the lines in for a huge back piece on a client and she begged him to get it while Feel the Pain by Dinosaur Jr played in the background over the buzzing of a tattoo gun.

“Cutthroat Tattoo, this’s Steve,” his voice was a bit gruff, but he didn’t mean for it to be. It had been nonstop all day and the phone was ringing off the hook.

“You’re a hard man to track down,” the confident woman on the other end cooed. “Do you have a second? Is this a bad time?”

“Yeah, it is a bad time. Who’s this?” Steve frowned, running his thumb along the edge of the counter.

“I’m the one who bailed you out of jail,” she answered, with a hint of laughter in her voice.

Steve frowned even harder, walking further away from the customers so that he as at the corner of the desk against the wall. His mind was racing because he didn’t recognize the voice. Was it someone he fucked recently and forgot about? In that case, it was the least he could do to remember her name, but nothing was coming to him.

“Sweetheart, I’d love to thank you properly, but I still have no idea who you are,” he braced his hand high on the wall, his back muscles and tattoos visible under his thin wife beater. “Can I have a clue?”

She continued to ignore his question. “If you’re interested I might have a job for you. It pays well, and it will only be a couple hours out of your day.”

He dropped his hand from the wall and slipped it into his arm pit. “How much is ‘well’?”

She told him it would be a couple grand for a few hours, and he almost said yes before he even asked what the job even was.

“What’s the catch, baby?” He was still under the assumption that this was someone he had carnal knowledge of, and not a complete stranger. “Cause my days of being a high paid assassin are behind me.”

“Oh no, nothing like that,” she purred. “It’s just that I’m going to an event in a couple days and I need to hire a body guard to be my escort.”

Steve scoffed at the simplicity of what she was asking. “That’s all? Sweetheart, I’m your man.”

“I knew you were the right man for the job,” she praised.

“Hey,” he turned to give the woman in his chair a silent wink and thumbs up to let her know he’d be right there. “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m good with faces, darlin’, but voices? Not so much.”

“You can call me Char,” she told him, giving him her phone number. He took the cap off a pen with his teeth and ripped out a page from the phone book to write it down. “Give me a call when you’re done and we can work out the details.”

Char...Char...Steve’s mind raced with who that might be. But, damn all he could think of was how nice it would be to get his hands on that money. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for a while now, and it would be nice to put a little extra in the bank so he could breathe for a fucking second. Body guard gigs were a piece of cake, and hell, if she wanted to pay him to have sex with her he might even agree to that as well, depending on what she was offering. Now, with Tina sniffing around again, he was on edge every second, and not sure if she really wanted to be in Oliver’s life, in which case he’d need to pay out the ass to hire a lawyer, or if she just wanted to squeeze his balls for more dough.

He couldn’t wait to brag to Eddie how mysterious women were stumbling over themselves to pay his bail and his bills.

--------

John made small talk with you as the driver, who was behind a black tinted partition, maneuvered the car up through the woods toward the lake. You passed a few MC members cruising along with the wind in their faces, and your heart stuck in your throat, hoping one of them were Eddie. Even Steve or Thumper would’ve been a welcome sight in that moment.

John was a gentleman, from what you could tell, and he was doing everything he could to make you comfortable, but you still felt terribly out of place; both in body and soul. To make matters worse, you were already missing Eddie. You realized that you could’ve gone to be with him that night instead, and the weight of your choice made your heart heavy. The song No Ordinary Love by Sade dripped softly from the speaker near your leg and it drowned out John’s voice for a few seconds as you thought about the beautiful, loving man you’d left waiting for you at home.

A magic, purple dusk exploded over the lake, between the trees as John came around to open your door and extend his hand for you to take.

“I don’t think I said it yet,” the side of his mouth lifted in a grin. He smelled like spices and expensive, Italian leather. “But you look absolutely stunning tonight.”

You rolled your shoulders and did the best to put all of your weight on the balls of your feet as you adjusted to the heels. He extended the crook of his arm to you and you took it, feeling like you were on some strange prom date.

Ahead of you was a walkway that led through a Japanese-style garden with a large Koi pond, on the way to a long, wide ranch-style building with gold lanterns dangling from the roof.

Sakura Black was known for it’s Japanese and Asian fusion cuisine. You’d only read about it in magazines, of course, and so it was a treat to see it all up close.

There was tight security from the time your chauffeur let you out at the curb to where you entered the building. A handful of muscular guys whose shoulders looked too big for their suit jackets, and whose necks were wider than their heads, talked to each other through ear pieces with dramatically serious faces, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were with the FBI or Secret Service. John didn’t even have to acknowledge them; they instantly ushered him through because they clearly recognized him.

You knew it was no secret that John was married, and you wondered what people thought your relationship was with him. Did they think you were one of his mistresses? Or was it a regular occurrence for him to bring young women there for dinner to talk over business deals? You honestly had no idea if you looked like a lucky girl or a fool to them.

Inside, the décor was warm tones and sharp edges; industrial design, with a pristine air of perfection and minimalism. You were a bit shocked when you realized that it made you miss the chaotic, clammy, nicotine saturated air of the Velvet Hammer.

The host with the wire rimmed glasses saw you and John coming, and got a bit flustered, before he stole himself for a proper greeting. “Your table is waiting, Mr. Gregson,” he extended his arm, encouraging you both to follow him down three steps to the main dining floor. There were solid windows along the back wall for a view of the lake at dusk, and the place was dimly lit, almost too dim for you to see if there were any celebrities in the crowd as you tried to scan around without moving your head. Soft murmuring voices heard over metal clinking on ceramic as waiters brought flaming dishes out on rolling carts.

John’s table was down close to one of the windows; there were two tealights burning in glass bubbles, and a bottle of red wine at the ready. You slipped free of John’s arm so that the host could pull your chair out for you, and you just so happened to move back two steps too many and you bumped into someone.

You both turned around at the same time to gush your apologies, and that was when you realized that the person you’d just smacked into was, in fact, the actor Richard Gere himself.

--------

Eddie was restless. He took a shower, and then nearly wore a hole in the floor from pacing.

He should’ve told you he didn’t want you to go. He should’ve told you...how he felt about you. God, was it too late? What if you realized that having an affair with with a rich dude was just what you needed? It would take away all of your stress, and you could stop working your ass off at the Velvet Hammer. It would help your art career, and you’d never have to worry about money. Surely, John Gregson was intelligent, well-spoken, successful—the type of man you deserved to be with. Since you met Eddie, your life had fallen into chaos and damn near poverty. In fact, the more he thought about it, what the hell did you even seen in him anyway?

He fully intended to wait by the phone until you called, but the minutes felt like hours, and he decided to take a ride over to Steve’s house for some company. Steve was still at the shop, but Robin had just arrived home after picking up Oliver, and it was a much needed distraction from his intrusive thoughts.

He read Oliver a bedtime story (it was coincidentally also one of his favorites: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs) while Robin put away the dishes, and then the two adults had a beer out on the patio under dim yellow light where insects tapped and buzzed.

One sip and Robin sat up in her chair, regarding him with wide eyes. “Hold on, I almost forgot to tell you how hot your woman looked tonight. Wowza!”

Eddie’s beer paused halfway to his mouth and his smile dropped.

Robin licked her bottom teeth as she grinned, bending her knee to put her foot on the chair. “She was gorgeous, but also very sophisticated and elegant. Total show-stopper. You would’ve been on your knees.”

Eddie was gripping his beer can so tight, he crushed it a bit, forcing liquid to spurt out of the top.

“Yeah, how long ago was that?” Eddie asked in a mumble.

“How long was what? When I saw your girl? Um, maybe an hour ago. I left right after to pick Ollie up.”

Robin started talking about the whole mess with Tina, and a few minutes in, Eddie got to his feet. “I gotta go, Rob. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for the beer.”

“You have to go...right now? Seriously dude?” She balked. But Eddie was already grabbing his leather and taking long strides around the house to where he parked the chopper.

Robin sighed heavily into the mouth of her beer just before taking a few large gulps.

--------

Richard Gere reached out and put his palm on your elbow. “Are you okay? I didn’t meant to bulldoze into you like that.”

You were understandably speechless for a moment, mouth agape, as you looked from his face to the other people at his table. A part of you hoped to see Cindy Crawford there, but then you remembered they’d been divorced for a couple years. There were two other people with him: an older gentleman you did not recognize, and a woman who could’ve very well been a runway model.

You were about to speak when John came up behind you, resting his hand at your lower back. “Richard,” John greeted as they both shook hands. They knew each other? John introduced you. “This is that talented painter I was telling you about. I’m commissioning a piece for our lake house.”

Richard regarded you with invested interested. “A-ha, that’s right. I��d love to see your work. Do you have a card?”

“I don’t have one with me, but I---” you stammered, disbelief clouding your cognitive functions.

John’s hand made circles on your back as he spoke. “I’ll have my secretary send over her information tomorrow,” he told Richard.

Once the two of you were finally scooting into your table, John raised his eyebrow. “Richard’s a good friend, and an avid art collector. He loves finding new talent, that’s why I told him about you.”

Your heart raced as you put your napkin in your lap. Your seat faced the entrance where you’d just come in, and the side of Richard. He turned and winked at you as he put his hand onto the leg of the supermodel next to him.

The menu items didn’t have any prices on them, except for the wine list which had some going for hundreds of dollars. It made you gulp. You could probably live for a month on what these people were paying for one dinner.

“Is it okay if I order for you?” John asked, small, tortoise shell readers as the end of his nose. You were more than grateful for that suggestion, and he didn’t seem at all bothered when you said you were a vegetarian. Your waiter poured the wine, John started with appetizers, and the two of you proceeded to stick to the topic of business, and what he was hoping for in the artwork for his den.

It started to be less and less like a date and more like dinner with a friend, which made you feel a whole lot better about everything. You wondered what the story was between John and Charlene: how they met, how they fell in love, how they grew so far apart. There was probably someone there in the crowd who would see the two of you together and report back to Charlene. Would she even care?

Also, you really missed Eddie. You watched John hold his hands out in front of him, explaining a piece of art he bought while he was in Italy, with the romantic lake as a backdrop, and all you could think about was how you’d rather be kissing Eddie in the alley behind the Velvet Hammer, surrounded by the smell of rotting trash.

John expressly told the waiter to let the chef know which substitutions they required for your dietary needs, and he ordered another bottle of wine. You were watching him pour it when, several tables down, you spotted a waiter who you swore was your previous work colleague, Jeff. Just then, the guy with the golden blonde hair locked eyes with you at the same time and a wild look flashed across his face before he regained his composure and finished taking the order at the table he was at.

“Excuse me for just a moment?” You said to John as you got up from the table and placed your napkin on your seat. “I need to….” what was the phrase again? You couldn’t tell him you needed to use the toilet, that was vulgar. “...to go to the powder room. I’ll be right back.”

You made your way along the main floor and then up the steps, making eye contact with Jeff and motioning covertly for him to follow you. Jeff jerked his head, motioning you in the other direction, down between the bar and the kitchen. You both did good work of keeping your composure until you were hidden and out of ear shot.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jeff blurted, bouncing on the balls of his feet a bit.

“Um, I was about to ask you the same thing? Hello? You quit the gallery?” You exchanged a hug as you talked.

“Yeah, fuck that place,” Jeff adjusted the front of his shirt. “Besides you would not believe the celebrity sightings here. I’m gonna get swept off my feet soon.”

“Yeah no kidding,” you agreed in a whisper. “Richard Gere is basically sitting at our table.”

You were both speed-talking because neither one had much time.

“Who is that hot daddy you’re with?” Jeff asked.

“You’ll never believe it.”

“Try me?”

“It’s Charlene Gregson’s husband,” you said, exposing your lower teeth in a cringe.

Jeff made his mouth into an exaggerated “O” shape. “Girl, you have a lot of explaining to do. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

One of the other servers walked by and you hugged again, agreeing adamantly to meet up for cocktails as you wiggled fingers at each other to say farewell. You came up into the reception area, about to turn and make your way back down to the restaurant, when a deep voice made you freeze in your tracks.

“Hey.” It was Eddie.

---------

Eddie didn’t have a plan, he was just going. His hair flew in the wind, his hands twisting high up on the ape hanger handlebars, thundering along the winding mountain road like the devil was on his heels.

Sure, the restaurant you were at had tight security, but half of them were buddies of his. Plus, he wouldn’t have given a shit if he had to take them all on. In fact, bashing some heads in would’ve felt pretty fucking good in that moment.

He told Mick and Angus at the gate that he was there to cover for one of the guys, and they let him him right in; engine revving as the chopper crawled up the driveway and found a place right next to a red Ferrari. He ran his hand through his hair, rings clicking together as he swung his leg off the bike, adjusting his Coffin Kings leather cut over his plain white tee, exposing the tattoos from his neck to fingers. The black jeans he had on did not have holes in them but still—he was vastly under dressed for this crowd. God, he secretly hoped someone had the guts to try and throw him out; that would be fun.

He walked up to Rodney—a big dude with most of his dark hair in a buzz cut, but for the 5 inch long rat tail at the back---and offered him a smoke. Rodney had to wear his shirt buttoned at the collar and at his wrists to hide all of his tattoos. There were two other square-head dudes in suits positioned at the door, but Eddie didn’t know them.

He pointed his chin at the two in question, exhaling smoke. “Will I get any trouble from those two if I go in?”

Rodney wiped his nose with his thumb as his cheeks caved in for another drag. “Nah, they don’t mess with the Kings, man. They’re just gym bros. Say ‘boo’ and they’ll piss themselves.”

He made small talk for another minute or two, and then tossed his smoke when it was only halfway finished.

The two at the door moved immediately for Eddie, just as Rodney suggested they would. They even bowed their heads a bit, as if he were some type of mystical royalty.

The guy at the reception desk forgot to blink when he looked up at him, wondering if he should call the police or scream, but Eddie raised his hand with a partial smile, letting him know he didn’t want any trouble. “I’m just checking to see if someone is here,” he let him know. “It’s an emergency.”

“How about I check for you?” The guy in the wire-rimmed glasses asked nervously, shuffling papers. “Can I have a name?”

“No,” Eddie answered bluntly as he kept walking.

He stepped beyond a black partition to where he had a view of the lake windows and the people dining down below.

And then there you were.

Looking like a million bucks and then some. As confident as he’d been entering the building, now butterflies were exploding in his stomach and his face flushed with heat. If he didn’t know you, he’d be too nervous to even speak to you. You had always been way out of his league, but the way you looked that night really solidified the fact.

“Hey,” he said.

----------

“Eddie?” You stopped and looked around, not sure what was happening. “Baby, what are you doing here?”

You grabbed his hand and took him around the other side of the partition so that you weren’t right out in plain sight.

Eddie looked you up and down. “Did he buy you that dress?”

You only swallowed, and your silence said it all.

You took hold of his forearm, trying to meet his shifting gaze. “I promised you I’d call when I got home, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He’d rehearsed the words over and over on the ride there, but now they might as well have been a foreign language.

Eddie cast his gaze beyond you to all of the people eating their dinner as he shifted his jaw from side to side. “Did you tell him you have a boyfriend? Maybe I should introduce myself.”

“Baby, baby, baby, look at me,” you coaxed; one finger hooked in his belt loop and one guiding his face so that he’d look at you. His skin was hot, like he had a temperature. “I can’t do this with you right now. Please. You’re stressing me out. I’ll come by your place as soon as I’m done here, okay?”

Eddie knew he was blowing it. Internally, he tried that little meditation trick when you count back from ten or whatever the fuck, and he took a deep breath, but it didn’t help.

He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sucked his plump bottom lip into his teeth, biting down. “You’re just...so beautiful.”

You rose up to kiss his lips, and then you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll call you once I’m home, and then I’ll come over okay? I promise.”

Eddie nodded as you got further away from him, so far that you finally had to let go of his hand as your reach stretched to its limit. After you made your way down the couple of steps, you turned around to make eye contact with him again, but he was looking down.

Once you got back to the table, you stretched your neck up to check, and you didn’t see him standing in the same spot anymore, so you let out a relieved sigh. Your meals were on the table, and you apologized for taking so long. “I ran into a friend,” you told John.

After a bit more conversation and a couple bites of food, you glanced over to see that Jeff was shuffling his way over to your table. The smile he had pressed across his face was not reaching his eyes as he came up beside you and John.

He asked your name, as if he didn’t know it. “There is a...telephone call for you. Follow me please?”

You exchanged a look with John as you finished chewing your food and pushed your chair out. You excused yourself, again.

“Take your time,” John called to you as you followed behind Jeff.

Jeff did not take you to a telephone; he motioned for you to follow him around the other side of the bar, to a narrow hallway hidden behind a black velvet curtain. The sounds of the shouts and pans clinking in the kitchen were clear as day.

There was Eddie, waiting with his arms crossed. Jeff patted your hand as he left you there and walked away.

“Baby what...” your shoulders dropped, exasperated.

“Hold up, wait,” Eddie put his hand out. “I have something to say, and then you can go back to doing...whatever.”

You leaned against the door that said EXIT above it in orange letters. You really just wanted to get this dinner over so you could, indeed, be with Eddie again, but he was intent on dragging it out.

Eddie cast his gaze to the floor, hooking his thumbs into his front belt loops. “Listen, I know I don’t deserve you, okay?”

“Eddie---”

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Let me finish.”

You blinked and nodded, trying to be patient.

“So, I know I don’t have a lot right now, but one day I will. I’ll be comfortable at least. I’m not going to be in that apartment over the garage forever. I’ve made investments, I have some plans,” his eyes flicked to yours only briefly. “I’ve got enough money saved right now, what if I commission a painting from you? I can pay you whatever this dickhead is offering.”

You opened your mouth to speak but then--

He put his hand at your waist, urging you closer. “I wanna be the one you come to, baby. I want to take care of you. I will, if you’ll just let me.”

You couldn’t look at him for some reason, tears pooled at your lash line, and a lump lodged in your throat, your lip quivering. You’d been taking care of yourself for so long, you hadn’t realized how nice it would sound for someone to offer such a thing

The tip of his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip, and he slid his hand up along the side of your face, urging your eyes to meet his. “All I wanna do is make you happy and keep you safe,” his thumb brushed across the side of your mouth. “You’re everything to me, baby. I just wanna know that you’re mine.”

“But I am yours,” your voice squeaked as you sniffed back pending tears.

“Yeah, well, there’s something else,” Eddie’s heart rate quickened. He stepped forward to close the distance between the two of you and touched his forehead to yours briefly.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he continued, swallowing hard. Your wet eyes were possibly contagious because his chocolate eyes were glistening now too. “But I’m just so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m---”

But then you smashed your lips to his, blinking tears down your cheeks, tasting the salt as it dripped down your lips and mingled with your shared saliva. Your hands wandered all over each other, begging for purchase, eager moans vibrating in your throats. His words and the sweet eagerness of the kiss threatened to make a mess of your underwear right there in the restaurant.

You blinked and sniffed as you met his eyes again. You were shaking your head, almost in disbelief at the circumstances. “I love you so much,” you admitted, relieved to say the words after they’d been living on your tongue for so long.

Eddie found your mouth again, clutching the back of your neck to pull you closer, speaking in between eager kisses. “You do? Say it again, baby. Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured against his lips as he wrapped his arms around and crushed you to him. The last I love you made a little laugh hitch in your throat at the absurdity of where this confession was taking place.

Eddie picked you up so that your feet were off the ground for a second, making you squeal, and then he searched your eyes, his pupils blown. “God, I want to be inside of you so bad right now,” he breathed.

You reached down to feel the outline of his cock grow stiff in his jeans, and you thought about telling John that there was an emergency and you had to split.

He rubbed his nose on yours and then took your wrist and flattened your palm over his heart. “You can finish your dinner, baby, I’ll wait for you in the parking lot, I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Part 12

------

@notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @truffleshuffle12 @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @dream-a-little-nightmare @rhirojo @ms1oftheboys @hellv1ra @emxcast @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @secretdryrose @falling-solar-system @kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @layla-loves-ed @lofaewrites @eddiemunson95 @seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @chelebelletx @texasblues @michellecrusher

@dandelionnfluff @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin @eddiemunson95 @clincallyonline17 @lilpotatobean2 @hideoutside @tlclick73 @mmunson86 @sidthedollface2 @leilalaufeyson02 @tenthmoon @corrodedcoffincumslut

#eddiemunsonseries #eddiemunson #eddiemunsonfic #biker eddie munson #eddie my beloved #older!eddie #steve harrington #older eddie munson #i'm on fire #90s au #boyfriend eddie munson

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sanjisboyfie · 7 months

Text

one piece smau: married to robin edition

— kinda implied that robin is some "celebrity" but i kind of just enviosioned her just being a really successful writer or smth LOL

— male reader ! ! !

liked by nico.robin, nrs.husband, and 12k others

uso_pp: bro is definitely a mama's boy

tagged: nico.robin and nrs.husband

nrs.husband: well i call her mommy in bed anyway so it checks out

-> uso_pp: DEAR GOD.

dni_nami: they're both so whipped for each other, true love is real igggg

[liked by nico.robin, nrs.husband, and 90 others]

freeluffy: is it normal to be this clingy with your girlfriend...[name]'s behavior seems concerning guys ://

-> roro.zoro: it kills me how serious u seem about this

princesanji: IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEE

liked by nrs.husband, dni_nami, and 30k others

nico.robin: my husband is so thoughtful - he's never forgotten to give me floewrs whenver my older ones die <3

tagged: nrs.husband

nrs.husband: if my baby loves flowers IMMA GET HER FLOWERS

-> nico.robin: and i'll treasure them each time my love

princesanji: robin, i too, remember that you love flowers - do you love me now :3?

SUPERCOLA: i thought im the ways of being a SUPPPERRR husband well

-> nrs.husband: SUPPPPEERRRR

dni_nami: were these from your garden?

-> nico.robin: yes :) he has been tending to them ever since he planted them for me so now that they're grown, he made them into a bouqet

[liked nrs.husband, roro.zoro, and 100 others]

-> dni_nami: UGH I DONT KNOW WHY I BOTHER ASKING it's too cute i might kill MYSELF

liked by nico.robin, princesanji, and 20k others

nrs.husband: before and after the event, so proud of my beautiful girl

tagged: nico.robin

nico.robin: your support means the world to me <3 i love you so much

-> nrs.husband: if you have 1000 fans, i'm one of them. if you have 100 fans, i'm one of them. if you have 10 fans, i'm one of them. if there are no more fans of nico robin in the world, then i'm dead. i love you so sososososo much more my love

uso_pp: someone check up on sanji-

-> roro.zoro: i just heard a thump from the room over, i'm gonna assume he just fell to his knees

skullnsoul: such an elegant couple - YOUNG LOVE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

-> nrs.husband: brook you're like ten years older pls ur not an old man yet LMFAO

-> nico.robin: thank you brook :)

liked by nrs.husband, dni_nami, and 20k others

nico.robin: my favorite place in the world is his arms

tagged: nrs.husband

nrs.husband: i'll start crying right now.

nrs.husband: I DONT DESERVE YOU UGH

uso_pp: photo creds robin?? cmon now my work aint free

princesanji: what did [name] do in a past life to deserve a goddess such as yourself, robin-chan?

-> nico.robin: sanji you need to move on <3

[liked by roro.zoro, dni_nami, and 400 others]

freeluffy: mama y papa :DDDD

-> nrs.husband: LUFFY LMFAOOAA

liked by uso_pp, nrs.husband, nico.robin, and 11k others

dni_nami: the one time we get to see robin and he's hogging all her attention....wtf

tagged: nico.robin and nrs.husband

nico.robin: dw nami i reserved us a girls day at the nearby resort <3

-> dni_nami: mommy? sorry, mommy? mommy? sorry...mommy??

-> nrs.husband: hello????

uso_pp: as if he doesn't get to spend eveyr waking second with her like cmon bruh

-> nrs.husband: my BADD for loving my wife jfc i cant win w u guys

nrs.husband: omg send me this photo she looks so cute here hehehe

-> dni_nami: stfu.

nrs.husband's story:

i love lovelovelovelove my beautiful wife. everyone is just jealous she's mine <333

nico.robin replied to your story: i wondered why nami just texted me she hated you — you're very cute with this story, [name]. i love you too and am glad that i can call you mine as well <333

#≡;- ꒰ ° smau series ꒱#one piece smau #one piece modern au #one piece x male reader #nico robin x male reader #nico robin x reader #x male reader #x reader #nico robin imagines #one piece imagines #male reader imagines #one piece male reader #robin x male reader #robin x reader #one piece robin x reader #one piece robin x male reader

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ilovechuuy4 · 17 days

Note

S/O gifting Chuuya a puppy for his birthday? ≧◡≦

I Was Meant For You, Baby. Being With You Makes the Flame Burn Good. ✧٭*꙳

Warnings; none other than thicker paragraphs

Description; Giving your boyfriend a pet for his birthday!

A/N; Sorry if this took so long! I wanted 2 wait till chuuyas birthday since it isn't too far from nikolai's! Hope you enjoy!! Also I was flooded out my house (literally) so please bare with me! (HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY BEAUTIFUL BEST WIFE!1!1!1!!1!2?2?2?2?1!1!1!1!) (F/N is friends name)

You glance at the clock on the wall, 5:23PM a nice Sunday evening on the 28th of April. You had a day until Chuuyas birthday but you already knew what you were getting for his present, that's why you were sitting in a pet adoption center right now. There were dogs barking, cats meowing and other animals noises. Needlessly to say, it was loud.

You were waiting for a specific dog to come out. It was the perfect one for Chuuya. You waited a bit longer until you saw the door open that led to the animals and there runs a puppy, it was a golden retriever. The puppy's coat was this bright shiny golden blonde with these soft brown eyes. Maybe the energy of the dog was different from chuuya's but surely it'll mix well no matter what.

The golden dog's tail was wagging frantically as the employee let go of the small leash, letting the dog go as it jumped in your lap, licking at your face. You laugh softly, running your nails in the coat of the new fluffy companion.

You reach into your pocket and grab your wallet and take out the money; paying the employee. They take the money with a soft nod and fill somethings out before letting you go. You had to keep the dog at a friends house for only a day since chuuya's birthday wasn't until the next day.

You drop the entergetic animal off at F/N apartment for the day while you not only go shopping for a cake but for the puppy too. You make your way to the closest store, making your way to the small bakery built inside. You talk to the baker who was at the front, telling her exactly what you want and what time I'd be picked up, around 3pm tomorrow; Monday, April 29th. You watched as she jotted the details down and she nodded. "Alright ma'am/sir, that'll be around $20 (around 335 in pesos and 3,086 in Japanese yen.) tomorrow when you pick it up." The kind woman said with a thankful smile.

Once you pre-ordered, you scurry off through the market, grabbing chuuya a new fedora to add to his collection along with a nice red wine. You then make your way to the pet isle. There was a lot but you got the essentials; dog food, specifically wet food since it was only a puppy, chew toys, treats, bowls etc. Then you walk your way to check out spending around a good $150(23,197 yen or 2,557 Pecos) you sigh, the hat was pretty expensive, it was around 80-90 USD. You rub the back of your neck as you leave the store, bags in hand.

You drive home, entering the house but keeping the bags in trunk of your car. Once you are inside the house, slipping off your shoes and coat, you are met with a slightly upset blue eyed man, your boyfriend. His arms crossed over his narrow chest, his bright blue irises dangerously showing his mood of anger. "Where were you? You're usually home hours before I am, but I'm here hours before you are home?" Chuuya questions, he was very serious.

"Well I was uhm.." You stamppered, you couldn't make up a good enough excuse. "I was at my friends house, F/N? them?" You said, rubbing the back of your neck. You were obviously lying, nothing could get past the ginger even if you tried. "I won't push, doll. But you gotta tell me when you won't be home. I was worried." He stated, he never pushed you to tell him where you were, he wanted to it come out naturally with no force, he didn't like trying to push answers out, it felt odd to him.

Chuuya walked forward and embraced you, holding you close, hands holding your hips. "Let's go order some food and watch a movie, yeah?" Chuuya recommended, gently grazing your lips with his. You smile and nod as you follow him to the couch. The night grew and the both of y'all became tired. "Let's go to bed, darlin'." He said, gently lifting your to red body off the couch and into yalls shared bedroo, laying you don't and slipping under the covers with you.

As the night wore and the day grew you shirt confortably in the bed, waking up with a yawn. It was 2pm, Chuuya had let you sleep in since you were out so late last night doing god knows what (or at least he didn't know what you were doing.) You yawn, stretching your bones as they pop and crack, the sounds sending shivers down your spine. You yawn onces more before getting out of bed.

You scurry around the bedroom, taking a shower, drying your hair and putting on your clothes you were going to wear to pick up and cake and the puppy. Nothing big, something simple. You grab your bag with your wallet and walk out the house, getting into your car and driving to the same store. You were only a couple minutes early but that was always a good thing as you walked to the bakery section. The same lady greets you with a welcoming smile as he walks to the back, bringing back the cake.

The cake with a simple French vanilla. Thick, swirly dollops of icing, boarding around the top and bottom. The bottom layered with dark chocolate shavings, those also layered at the top on top of the swirls of icing. In black icing, a neat, swirly cursive wrote; "Happy birthday Chuuya." You take out your wallet to pay the kind lady with a smile before taking your card back and walking out the store.

Once leaving the store, you stop by F/N house and pick up the fluffy compainion. It was jumping around, barking and other nonsense in the back seat of the car as you pull up to your house. You reach back, putting the leash on the collar and helping the puppy out the car. It runs inside the house as you squat down to feed it, pouring the food into the bowl in the back room where you sadly had to keep the cute golden for a few minutes more before your boyfriend came home.

You put the fedora and red wine in a small bag and stuff it with tissue paper. You gently place it on the marbled counter top as you take out the cake from the fridge and placing it beside the gift bag. Before you knew it, you heard the rustingly of keys and the front door unlocking, the hinges on the door squeeking as it opened, and there behold your beautiful boyfriend.

"Doll, I'm home. How ar-" his sentence cut off, his eyes going to the gift and cake, a smile spreading on his face as he looked at you. "You know, you shouldn't have?" He said with a chuckle, walking towards you and wrapping you in a hug, hands going around your waist. "I uhm.. I have another gift for you." You said with a nervous giggle before you could say anything else there was barking in the back ground, making chuuyas eyes widen.

"You got a dog?! Where?" Chuuya exclaimed, his eyes wide but he seemed excited. You gently pull away from Chuuya, scurrying to the room the dog was confined in, opening the door. You watched as the puppy hopped and jumped, running around before going to the taken aback chuuya. His eyes widden in gleam as he squats down to pet it was a smile.

"You really got a fuckin' dog?" He said unbelieved, running his hand down the dogs thick coat of fur. "I mean yeah. I know you wanted one so, what do you wanna name her?" You ask with a smile. "Princess." He said, he was straightforward with it and he meant it, this dog's name was gonna be princess and you were well aware it was going to be spoiled like one.

"Mhm alright, princess it is." You say with a slight laugh. You watch as Chuuya stands up and walks over to you hugging you tight. "You don't know how much you; and this. means to me, darlin'. I love you so much." He murmurs softly, kissing your lips slowly, Princess directly between yalls legs.

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fhrlclln · 1 year

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i think we need a part two to the rockstar! eddie x wife! reader, possibly where it left off but this time they’re gonna make a baby? ;)

rockstar! eddie x wife! reader

i absolutely adored writing this! the much needed part 2 is here!! here’s part 1

nsfw/smut under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

this time in the munson household…

“the best sex i had?” eddie asks confusingly as the camera crew nodded, zooming into his face as he sat by the pool, cigar in hand and whiskey by his side. shirtless, tattoos covering his chest while his mullet was tied in a low ponytail. the scent of chlorine filling his nostrils as he relaxes himself after such a tiring week of non-stop music making for the next corroded coffin album and taking extra care of you nowadays. these past months being so hectic on the both of you. it was refreshing to get a weeks worth of stay at home vacation.

“thought i’d said that already. any sex with my fucking wife, man.” he shrugs, bored at such plain question. the camera man only says they know that but in specific detail.

“oh, you all are getting nosy as shit.” he scoffs and laughs at it as he blows out a smoke. he leans back on the chair, sighing as he smiles at it, every memory him making sweet love to you in his mind but one always sticks to him to this day. quite recently it was as well.

“well the best fucking sex is when you’re really determined. don’t wanna overshare but getting your wife pregnant is the best sex, you horny fucks.” he says, taking in the sun, smirking as he remembers it so vividly that he could get an hard-on shamelessly in front of the camera. not that his fans hadn’t seen it countlessly when you’re around the show.

it was after that filming when you told him about your desire of a little munson running around the big mansion. it never left his mind that you wanted a family with him. i mean, of course it was bound to happen. but he never felt so blessed that you’d want a kid with him, never in his life he’d imagine being a father. his dad was an asshole, he expected much he could turn like his dad but he vowed to never think of that way. he had you, he loves you, and he will do everything to get what you want.

and he’ll get you a fucking kid.

“you’d really wanna have little me’s and you’s, sweetheart?” he wraps his arms around your waist, hands resting on your belly as you perfume hit his nose making him sigh tiredly. you nodded, eyes focused on the eggs you were frying and the pancakes you were flipping as well as the crisp bacon cooking. felt like heaven to him right now.

“of course i do, eds.” you answered as he kissed your neck. “you think i wouldn’t?”

“well, i don’t fucking know, thought that this wouldn’t cross your mind since we’re so busy all the time that we wouldn’t have the capacity.” he counters, knowing you were also busy with keeping up your image. magazines, photo shoots, modeling and all for the fans. which he currently despises how his own fans are horny fuckers for you. you were basically a 90’s it girl now, rockstar wife that he’s so lucky to be with.

“oh, eddie.” you turned around, facing him as you wrap your arms around his neck. kissing his lips as he squeezes your ass. “having kids with you has always been on my mind since we married.”

“really?”

“mhm.” you nodded, kissing him again, slow and tender, no screaming or fighting, just pure bliss of the sweet moment. eddie melts tasting your strawberry glossed lips, his hand roamed up and down at the expanse of your lower back. your sundress so sheer that he could feel your skin. fueling his desire further.

“we could get started now, ey?” he teases, nibbling your lower lip as you let out a quiet moan when he descend down to kiss your neck, enticing you.

“but breakfast, eddie.” you whined, scolding him.

“but that’s what you want right now, isn’t it? me topping you up with my cum ‘til you get so round with my child.” he breaths out, pressing his covered bulge to your stomach. his black boxer shorts feeling tight around his crotch. you sighed at him, the damn man had a knack way of his words to get you riled up. honestly, you weren’t complaining but it was so hard to say no to him sometimes.

“eddie…”

“you’ll be fucking glowing as ever. i’ll take care of you the whole shitty 9 months, fuck you real good.” he smirks, lifting your sundress up until his hand met with your bare ass. you grew accustom to not wear panties most of the time, easy access it is for you.

“fuck you, i w-wanted to make breakfast— oh!” you gasped when he lifts you up by your waist, shutting the stoves quickly as he circles to place you gently on the marble counter of the kitchen. he grins boyishly making your heart thump remembering your highschool days with him. he still looks the same back then.

“fine.” you sigh at him as he greedily hikes up your sundress to reveal your glistening pussy. “but you better get me pregnant, munson. or else.”

“ooh, i’ll fill you up in no time.” he promises, shoving his boxers down. he was about to do his usual foreplay but you stopped him by his wrist. he looks up, feeling puzzled by your intrusion.

“just want it now, please.” you pleaded as he chuckles at that.

“you on the pill?” he asks warily.

“nope.” you answer, wiggling your hips to seduce him further as he pumps himself first, precum glistening the head as you eyed it hungrily, spreading your legs wider as he positions himself to your entrance. rubbing the tip of his cock on your clit for moisture as you breathlessly moaned at the pleasant feeling.

“fuck.” he breaths out as he pushes in, determined to make your wish come true. he sinks in blissfully, the heat of your cunt coating him with such ease. no matter how many times he gets to slide into you, it never tires him out how you were made for him. your cunt was made for his cock. bottoming out, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, letting out a mewl as he starts pumping in and out. teasing you relentlessly.

“put a baby in me, munson. pleaseee…” you begged, salivating at the thought of his cum in you. you wanted this as much as him. you wanted it so bad for so long, now was the time he has to give it to you.

“i will, baby. i will.” he promises, snapping his hips suddenly in such vigor that made you squirm and grip his shoulders hard. he pounds into you, every snap of his hips a promise that he’s fulfilling. so determined to get you knock up in the moment. you gasped, shuddered, moaned at every move his cock rubs inside you raw. you loved it, loved the look on his face. so serious as he kisses your now bare chest as you shove it down for him.

“these fucking breasts gonna swell up soon.” he groans, burying his face as he moves his head side to side, loving the feeling of your soft breasts on his face. you giggled as he grips your hips hard, fucking you with no will to stop. the kitchen is filled with the lewdness of wet skin slapping, groans and moans and breathless whispers of curses.

“gonna..” eddie starts, kissing you hard, tongue and all. “make you a mama, huh. gonna make you a mama. you like that?” he practically growls against your lips, feeling his release near seeing you mercilessly take in his brutal pace as you rubbed your swollen clit.

“yes, yes, yes— fuck! please, eddie!” you begged, eyes watering as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. one sharp thrust had you shuddering as the coil in your stomach exploded making you clamp hard around him.

“shit—“ eddie moans out, bottoming in to the hilt as he fills you up with spurts of his release. your wet walls clamping down on him hard as he grinds in as you sobbed at such wonderful feeling inside of you. he sighs, slumping a bit as the grip on his shoulder lessened, making you slump back against his chest tiredly.

“filled you up good, sweetheart?” he asks breathlessly, cupping your cheeks as he kisses your lips softly for the rough fucking.

“yeah.” you shakily nodded, feeling blissed out as ever. eddie smirks, rubbing your stomach, feeling a little giddy he’s gonna see it round and plump soon.

“now we wait.” he smiles making you smile tiredly. breakfast out of your mind.

and back to the present…

“that fucking sex was the best out of all, you horny shits.” he breathed out, done reminiscing about it. “i’m starting to fucking think you all just wanna hear how me and my wife fuck.” he chuckles, the camera man zooms out as you suddenly appeared with heat in your steps.

“eddie!” you sniffled, eddie immediately sits up, facing the teary eyed heavily pregnant you.

“baby! what happened?” he asks worriedly seeing you cry as you sat on his lap, burying your face in his neck as you held something in your hands. “did something go wrong, sweetheart? did you get hurt or is it the baby—“

“my shoes!” you sniffled. eddie waits as he caresses your back, knowing how sore you are from carrying the little rascal growing in your stomach. the whole media went crazy when they first found out you were 5 months pregnant after making a public view to the world. eddie was above happy everyone got to know about the munson family starting to expand.

“what about your shoes, baby?” he asks curiously as you shake your head, tossing the heels into the pool. he ignores those as you grumbled. emotion shifting.

“they don’t fucking fit me anymore and i don’t know why! my fucking stomach is already in the way, i couldn’t bend down and now my shoes don’t fit!” you sobbed as the camera man moves away from the scene as eddie gestured for privacy. he licks his lips to himself, knowing those damn hormones are poking at you for the past 8 months. he kisses your forehead as he wipes away your tears. a determination in his eyes, wanting you to feel relax as ever, knowing your literally carrying his child. he’s literally at your beck and call these few months.

“sweetheart, i’ll buy you another pair. don’t you fucking worry.”

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i love me husband rockstar eddie 🥹

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem! reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #rockstar!eddie #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s quick ideas 💡 ｡･:*˚:✧｡#eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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loveshotzz · 1 year

Text

bouncer!steve x fem!reader Steve’s night

🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby. 🎵

summary: you’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. turns out he’s not very good at his job.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: 18+ 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.

authors note: part two of Whatta Man (steve’s night) you don’t need to read eddie’s to read this one it’s just a little more fun if you do. i’ve seen other writers repost their work after it’s been flagged so here I am. I worked on this for months. please be kind.

“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.” Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle.

“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.

“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.

“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.”

Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.

“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”