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rebelfell · 7 months

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The Third Date

Eddie Munson x Anorgasmic!Reader

When you move back to Hawkins after graduating college, you find yourself reconnecting with an old friend in a new way. Your first two dates with Eddie Munson are everything you’d ever dreamed, but the next one has you unraveling.

Part One. Part Two.

cw: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, fem!reader, deceased parent, mentions of poor sexual experiences, some drinking, sexual anxiety, making out, fingering, panic attack, eddie being sweet and reassuring, fluffy ending.

I was kinda in my feelings and needed Eddie to tell me all the right things. Sue me. 18+, MDNI 7k

You used to like this mirror.

It was vintage. Full length with an ornate gold frame, swirling embellishments on the top and sides. Not to mention it was a fucking steal at $10 from an estate sale. You’d liked it enough to make it one of the scant number of things you hauled all the way back to Hawkins when you moved out of your shoebox apartment in the city.

Right now, though? You kind of hated it.

Usually, standing before it made you feel stately and elegant, even if all you had on was ratty denim shorts and a threadbare t-shirt riddled with holes and bleach stains. Yet here you were in one of your favorite outfits, hair meticulously styled, face glowing and dewy after spending an hour on it, and all you felt was ridiculous.

Not the mirror’s fault, technically. But it was the messenger. It told you at every twist of your hips, at every outfit change, at every pluck and tug of your clothes, that you were never going to look right—that you were never going to feel right. And it mocked your every failed attempt to do so.

You inhale, breath shallow and shaky as you try yet again to calm down. It’s just a date, you remind yourself. It’s just a date and he’s just a guy. There’s nothing to be worried about.

Except it wasn’t just a date. It was the auspicious Third Date.

And it certainly wasn’t just a guy…it was Eddie.

This was something you’d been waiting for forever. For longer than forever. For longer than you could count. Eddie Munson was your oldest and dearest friend. Growing up, you were like each other’s second heads—facing the worst of what small minds in a small town in Indiana cooked up. You stood, middle fingers brandished like swords, dreaming of a wider world.

It felt strange to think this would only be your third date when you’d basically been dating since you were thirteen. You went to movies together, wasted weekday afternoons at the record store, lounged on the gravelly bank of Lover’s Lake reading well-worn paperbacks—Two Towers for him, Dorothy Parker for you. He begged you to sit in on Hellfire when he started the club your junior year and only had three members, himself included. He’d sneak you into the dive bar where his band played Tuesday nights, and you would immediately stick out among the five drunks who assembled every week. But as long as all you ordered was ginger ale and swore up and down you weren’t a cop, the bartender let you sit there all night to watch him.

Nights never ended the way “real” dates did. No hands being held as he walked you from his van to your doorstep; no kisses under flickering porch lights scored by a cricket symphony.

He never touched you too much, always quick to withdraw his hands when they lingered on your hip or back or arm. That would change, though, if he smoked or drank a bit and his cuddly side came out. Secretly, you longed for these times. You reveled in having his chin rest on your shoulder or his arms wind around your waist to hold you close. It never felt gross or crossed the line into groping like with other, lesser, guys looking for something to fondle. With Eddie, it felt more like he was showing you how he wished he could be all the time.

At least that’s what you let yourself imagine.

He always apologized the following day, just short of castrating himself over it. It made you want to slap him. Slap him and then kiss him and slap him again. How could he not get it? How could he not see how goddamn in love with him you were? How could he not feel the same way? You waved him off, assuring him he hadn’t done anything wrong. All the while thinking, you fucking idiot, and not even knowing if you were referring to him or yourself.

Then came graduation. Or rather, your graduation and his sullen admission he wasn't eligible, which lead to the longest, most difficult conversation of your lives so far. It wasn’t even a conversation so much as it was you swinging wildly between reactions—scolding him for not telling you sooner; grasping at the straws of extra credit assignments your teachers would never assign; volunteering to stand guard while he broke into the administration office.

Eventually, though, you had to face the reality of losing him and it left a prominent break in your heart. Your acceptance letter to a school in Indianapolis that used to make you feel weightless, like you could finally fly out of here, now felt more like chains dragging you away.

You had half a mind to take him with you. You must have rehearsed the speech you wanted to make something like fifty times. Screw Hawkins, you’d say. Screw their closed minds and their disdain for anything even a little different. He could get his GED—you’d help him, happily. He could find work in the city and take community college classes or go to trade school. The two of you could live together and watch slasher movies every Friday night, falling asleep on his chest when you got tired just as you’d done all throughout high-school.

Of course those thoughts inevitably spiraled into what would happen once he started dating. A bigger city meant a bigger pool of people, all with the potential to realize the kind, sweet, caring boy who was bursting with passion for his fantasy games and music and his other rich interests was actually a massive catch and not a social pariah. In no time, it would be someone else falling asleep on his chest and you watching them be carried to his bed.

You couldn’t bear the thought of that. Maybe even moreso, you couldn't bear the thought of asking him to come with you and him saying “no.”

So, you went alone. You packed up your car with the barest necessities, you kissed your dad goodbye and said you’d see him at Christmas. But it was Eddie who saw you off, taking you into his arms and holding you there with your head tucked under his chin. You buried your face in his chest, tears leaking onto the patches you’d helped him sew on his denim vest. He told you how proud he was and how much he was gonna miss you. He said to write. To send pictures.

All you could do was sniffle.

At college, you tried expanding your horizons. You joined a couple clubs to make new friends and started going to parties. You met people like Carl. And even though he was handsome and seemed nice enough, you turned him down when he asked you to dinner. It wasn’t until much later, when your roommate scolded you for doing so, that you even felt some doubt about it. What was even the point when you knew he wasn’t what you wanted?

Except what you wanted might never be yours.

That first trip home to Hawkins was wildly unnerving. You knew it hadn’t actually been that long since you left. But why did it feel so strange that everything felt exactly the same? Had you really changed so much already that your home no longer felt like home?

Even seeing Eddie again felt like rupturing old wounds you thought had successfully scabbed over. You withdrew from him without even realizing you were doing it. He knew something was wrong, but didn’t dare voice it. His greatest fear loomed: you were done with Hawkins.

Done with him.

It took a while to strike the balance between the old and the new. You’d run away so fast and tried to overwrite everything in your life, returning to Hawkins felt like entering a fantasy world. And Eddie became like an apparition, a specter of everything you missed most.

You started writing to him more, sharing stories about your classes, gossip in the dorms, drunk adventures in the city. And he wrote back, telling you all about the new members of Hellfire who also happened to play instruments and were eager to replace the members of Corroded Coffin who had graduated and moved away. Eventually, the letters became more like a diary.

You could confess things you’d never imagined telling anyone—stuff about your mom and how you’d spent every day wondering if she’d be proud of you; how you worried about your dad and wondered if he would ever get over her; how you feared you might never find love like theirs and even if you did, how it might be taken away from you like it was from them.

And he confessed back to you. Amidst his ideas for new D&D campaigns and song lyrics, he gave you deeper insight on things you knew already—his father’s sordid criminal history and his mother’s inability to cope, which led to her dropping Eddie on his uncle’s doorstep at the ripe old age of eleven. Reading about Hawkins through his eyes made it feel more real and less like a dream you’d woken up from. It kept that connection open, a bridge between your worlds, so you could experience college and all the new things it had to offer, but still felt connected.

Then the end of your sophomore year brought more bad news.

Again, he wasn’t eligible. Again, he wasn’t graduating.

You’d not been able to let go of that fantasy of him joining you at school. Every time you walked across the quad, leaves crunching beneath your boots, sunlight dying as it dipped behind the old brick buildings and cast everything in a hazy golden autumn glow, you imagined a pair of clean, white sneakers next to yours and a ringed hand squeezing your fingers.

He promised you this was his year. Swore it, in fact. ‘86, baby! he’d scrawled big and messy under his signature at the end of one of his letters. And maybe it would. He said he was doing better—army crawling his way towards a D in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, already planning how he would snatch his diploma and flip the bird at the principal as he walked the stage.

He was certain enough it made you start to believe it too.

You never dared to broach the subject of what he wanted to do after graduation. He hadn’t mentioned applying to any colleges or looking for work. The rest of the band was graduating with him. Maybe they’d all move here to get more exposure. Maybe they wanted to record a demo they could pass out to record companies. Or maybe Eddie wanted to go solo.

The lack of information made you antsy. Was he being decidedly cagey about his plans? Was he hiding something? Or was he just afraid of disappointing you again?

It was nearing the end of the school year when you finally broke. You had to see him.

For once, your spring breaks were going to overlap. You blew off your classes on Friday to make the drive and managed to get to Hawkins High just as the final bell was ringing. His van still sat in the parking lot and you pulled in alongside it to wait, practically jumping out of your skin with excitement. Thirty whole minutes crawled by before you finally spotted him.

He emerged from the woods at the back of the practice sport fields, chattering with ease to maybe the last person on earth you would have expected to see.

Chrissy Cunningham was just as pretty as she’d always been. She was a couple years behind you and Eddie in school, but everyone knew of her from the moment she made the varsity cheer squad as a freshman—a staggering feat no one else had ever managed. She still had the same bouncy ponytail, the same enormous eyes and cherubic cheeks you imagined must ache at the end of each day from her constant smiling. And she was somehow smiling even wider than normal at whatever Eddie was saying as he grinned back at her.

It made your stomach churn thinking what they could have been doing to have her smiling like that. You knew he’d started dealing for Reefer Rick to earn extra money, but in what universe would the queen of Hawkins High be struck with the urge to buy a bag of skunky weed?

Unless it wasn’t weed she was after at all.

Panic doused your body. You jammed your key back in the ignition and sped out of the lot, praying he didn’t see you. You drove straight back to school, tears streaming down your face for the entire journey, making you hate yourself more with every salty trail that stained your cheeks. Because what else did you expect? For him to pine for you like you did for him? For him to be like you and not date anyone, ever? To keep everyone who even attempted to get close at a distance? Reserving a space in your heart for someone who might not even want to fill it?

You loved him more now than you ever had. Even without seeing him every day, even without having him constantly at your side. If anything, it had gotten worse. Your feelings piled up within you just as his letters did in your room. They all lived in a box under your shitty dorm bed to be pulled out over and over and over so you could parse every line for hidden meaning. Crying at his words, so heartfelt and honest you didn’t even notice the grammatical and spelling errors.

By the time you got back to campus, you felt raw and spent. Your face was streaked with tears and you were breathless from crying. For days, you walked around campus like a ghost until you bumped into Carl, the only other soul not off on some debaucherous Spring Break trip. And when he asked you for seemingly the hundredth time if he could buy you dinner…you said yes.

It came in the mail a few months later. Your address scribbled messily on an invitation to the Hawkins High Class of 1986 graduation. Eddie had included a photocopy of his final grades and written “proof it’s not a clerical error” with a little smiley face in the corner.

You called him that night to tell him how proud of him you were. And you were proud of him. So unbelievably proud. But when he asked if you were coming, you lied. You said your boyfriend’s parents would be in town and that he wanted you to meet them. You told him how sorry you were, all the while thinking Chrissy could congratulate him enough for the both of you.

And in spite of yourself…you let yourself pretend you heard a little dejection in his voice when you used the word “boyfriend”—fictitious as it was.

The truth was, you’d only been officially dating Carl for a couple weeks. And he was perfectly nice. He’d kissed you and it felt fine. It didn’t quite live up to what you believed it should feel like, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe what you imagined wasn’t realistic. Maybe what you thought it should be wasn’t feasible.

Maybe you just had to let that go.

And dating Carl was simple and uncomplicated. It served a purpose. It made you feel at least like you weren’t languishing in a wasteland of your unrequited feelings. It made you feel like you were trying. Sure, the sex wasn’t great. But you hardly expected it to be good for you.

You’d hooked up with the odd guy here and there over the years. It was a pattern that began with some guy you met downtown whose assignment was to keep you occupied while his friend put the moves on your roommate. You were a little drunk and a lot lonely, so you’d gone along with it. It was quick. A little uncomfortable. It certainly didn’t make you eager to repeat the experience. But at least you could say you’d done it.

Part of you thought maybe it would get better, but it never did.

Even guys you thought were decent at first were quick to gloss over the preamble and lead up, jumping straight to stuffing themselves inside you with no regard to your winces of discomfort. It didn’t take long before you started to assume you had to be the problem. Even by yourself, it took you ages to reach any sort of precipice. And even when you did, even when you felt your heart rate rising and your body heaving in response, the pay-off was…underwhelming.

With Carl, you thought it could be different. Maybe you needed a deeper connection; maybe you needed a few times to get comfortable with someone to properly ascend that peak. But the more you did it with him, the less attainable that seemed. Maybe you were just broken.

You also tried not to dwell on the fact that the only times you ever got close were when you pictured a different face hovering over yours; when you imagined your fingers twisted up in dark, shaggy curls; when you visualized pale skin littered with tattoos and sinewy arms caging you in; when you lit that one candle you only bought because it reminded you of Eddie’s cologne.

The decision to move back home turned out to be less a decision and more a necessity.

A whole year out of school and you’d had truly terrible luck finding a job—at least a decent one that actually wanted to pay you. Carl, ever the charmer, wondered why you even wanted to work when you’d just wind up quitting when you got married. Really, you appreciated it. It was exactly the kind of comment you needed to jolt you out of a relationship that had been on autopilot.

You were a mess. Lost. Aimless. Barely treading water. Wishing you could call the one person you knew would cheer you up, but unsure if it would only result in more heartache. In the blink of an eye, it had been over five years since you left home and it was starting to feel like your only accomplishments were breaking up with your boyfriend and buying a mirror.

Then came the call from your dad.

He’d taken a nasty fall at his hardware store. He was fine, for the most part. But he was now significantly weaker and would have to have surgery as well as physical therapy after. And he certainly couldn’t run his store anymore. It had never run particularly smoothly to begin with and his books left something to be desired—another thing you’d be helping with once you moved back. He never outright asked you to do so, but he also didn’t have to.

The only good news was the bad news: a massive fire that disintegrated Starcourt Mall had led to an influx of renovations to the downtown area. In the wake of the mall’s destruction came a resurgence in small businesses that breathed life back into the desolation the mall caused.

It was in this newly resurrected downtown where Eddie was making his mark. He had opened a hobby shop where he still hosted his weekly D&D games with a lot of the kids who had originally been in his club. His store became like a beacon for all the kids (and even some of the adults) in Hawkins who felt there was no place for them. Eddie gave them somewhere to belong and celebrated all the things that made them targets of ridicule to everyone else.

It was also your first stop on your first day back.

The whole shop was so Eddie. As you walked inside and took in the decor, it seemed entirely possible he had just moved everything from his bedroom at Wayne’s right in here. He’d even rigged the entrance with a speaker that played the guitar riff of “Enter Sandman” when someone came through the door.

You wished you could bottle the moment he came out front, your arrival signaled by the song.

“Holy shit…”

The box of miniatures and figurines he’d just finished pricing in the back fell to the floor with a thump and a rattle of plastic parts. He barely registered it, though. With round, unblinking eyes he stared, too stunned to move a muscle until a smile cracked his face wide open.

In just three long strides he crossed the store and swept you into his arms, lifting you up and whirling you around. “You’re here!” he gushed, arms crushing you around the middle in the most exquisite pain. “You’re really here!”

“I told you I was moving back!”

You laughed heartily in his ear as he placed you back on the ground, telling yourself it must have been the unexpected lift making you breathless and not how the sunlight coming through the windows hit his eyes and made them shine like molten honey. He kept you close, letting his hands rest on your arms and squeezing them like he had to be sure you weren’t a mirage.

“I thought it was one of those ‘too good to be true’ things,” he said sheepishly, a pink blush creeping across his cheeks. “Had to see it to believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” you sighed.

You were already prepared for the loss of his touch, for when he would shamefully retract his hands, but he never did. He held you comfortably, his thumb lightly brushing over your skin. He let you go reluctantly, not regretfully, letting his fingertips trail softly down your arm.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, his voice coated in warmth. “I missed you so much.”

You nodded, your throat pinched as you tried not to cry. “I…I missed you too.”

Eddie’s smile grew even bigger, his eyes seeming to dance with excitement. “Well, we have to celebrate,” he said. “I close up shop at six. Meet me back here and we’ll go to the Hideout?”

You stalled, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you considered. Almost on instinct, you’d nearly agreed right away. Old habits and what not. But did you want to fall immediately back into your old patterns? Hawkins had changed so little since you left, it felt too easy to slip back into the trap. Could you really go right back to hopelessly pining for him as you’d done so long?

“Come on,” Eddie urged, flashing those doe eyes he knew you couldn’t resist. “It’s one drink.”

“Okay, okay!” you laughed. “One drink.”

One drink turned out to be three. Starting with your first legal drink together at his old haunt while a different band of hopeful kids fumbled their way through clumsy Metallica covers.

“Please tell me we were never that young,” Eddie sighed, taking a swig of his beer.

“You’ve never been young,” you teased. “You came out of the womb a crotchety old man.”

A little later, you absconded to the corner booth and tucked yourselves away from the rowdiness of the growing crowd. You were flushed from the alcohol buzzing in your bloodstream and from how close Eddie was sitting. It felt just like old times, except it was nothing like old times.

Because this time, he was flirting with you. And not being subtle.

You thought maybe you were imagining it at first, but it only became more obvious the longer the night wore on. There was a whole new confidence and intention in the way he talked to you. He’d never been shy, never had any trouble drawing people in, but there was a fire lit behind his eyes tonight you’d never seen before. And you were the sole object of that blaze.

“So…still with Carl?” He finally asked, after bolstering himself to do so for the last three hours.

You took a long sip of your drink, eyes never leaving his over the rim of your glass. The liquor made you bold, the burn at the back of your throat adding smokiness to your voice.

“No-pe,” you said, popping your lips on the final syllable. Eddie smiled wolfishly and leaned in.

“Good,” he purred. “Cos that would have made it real awkward when I asked you out.”

He took you to dinner two days later. Rang the doorbell and smiled at you as he stood on your porch wearing a black button down under a darker black velvet vest. His black jeans were a new- looking pair of the same kind he’d always worn, sans the ragged holes over his knees.

Despite the thin material of your sundress and the balmy weather outside, you were sweating with nerves. The breeze played with your skirt as he walked you to his van and the coolness of it on your clammy skin made you shiver. But when Eddie suddenly darted ahead of you to open your door and turned around with his hand held up to help you inside, it made you melt.

The gesture filled your body with warmth, chasing away any hint of a chill.

After dinner, he suggested you walk a block or so to a bar where Eddie liked to play pool. And as you did, his hand reached for yours and he threaded your fingers together. You stared down at it, stunned. How many times had you wished he would do that? How many times did you imagine the heat of his palm against yours mixing with the coolness of his chunky silver rings on his fingers? It had always seemed so impossible and he’d just done it.

Like it was nothing. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. Easy. Natural.

He held your hand all the way into the bar, only letting go of you to accept a tray of balls from the bartender when Eddie requested a table. With a couple of beers in hand, you followed him to his favorite one that was tucked away in a little alcove, practically private.

You set down the beers and watched as he racked the balls, gaze lingering on his long frame and chuckling at the way he shimmied his hips as he leaned over the table to break. “Eyes on me,” he told you, playful smile revealing his teeth.

It was a redundant request, because it was entirely impossible to look anywhere else.

Eddie had filled out quite a bit since high-school. He was never an athlete by any means, but evidently a regime of guitar playing and dice throwing was enough to maintain decent tone. You stared at him unabashed as he walked around the table, lining up his shot. His vest now flapped open and he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal the familiar smattering of bats under his elbow and the puppetmaster etched inside his forearm. It made you wonder how many more tattoos—new ones you’d not yet seen—were hiding under the rest of his clothes. He smirked at you, smug as he leaned over the table, thoroughly enjoying the way your eyes followed him.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” he drawled before sinking a bank shot.

You rolled your eyes, trying to fein being unimpressed. “Trying to distract me, Munson?” you asked, chalking the tip of your cue in a much more sensual manner than necessary, letting your fingers lazily stroke the stick as Eddie watched transfixed. He huffed a laugh at the display.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Evidently, both of you were equally distracted. Most of your games lagged for a mutual inability to sink more than one shot in a row as the other did their best to pull focus. It was far easier for you, having only to lean forward slightly across the table from him to reveal a healthy dose of your cleavage. That, coupled with a coy smile and batting eyelashes, spelled disaster for Eddie. Everytime you did it, he’d scratch his shot and chuckle dryly at his own hubris.

He took a different approach, choosing instead to stand as close to you as he could as you lined up your shots. His musk and cologne filled your nose, a tantalizing woodsy smell that made your head spin as you struggled to keep your eyes on the ball. He rested his hip against the table, handcuff belt buckle glinting as it reflected the light from the lamp hanging overhead.

You could practically hear the childish taunt of not touching you, not touching you.

“Just take your shot, baby,” he cooed, low and husky. The sound made your heart hammer.

A couple hours of teasing and toying later, both of you were ready to explode. Your glasses sat empty on the nearby table, neither of you terribly interested in a refill. And as Eddie sunk the eight ball again, his eyes flashed to the tray for the balls rather than going to re-rack them.

“I guess I should get you home?” he asked.

A little sullen at the idea, you nodded and returned your cues to a rack on the wall while Eddie brought the balls back to the bartender and settled the tab. Only when you were walking back to the table to get your purse and passed a pair of men who reeked of tobacco did something occur to you: Eddie hadn’t taken a smoke break once.

“Did you quit?” you asked, staring at him with wide eyes. He smiled as he drew nearer to you, relishing the way your chest heaved as you reacted to his closeness.

“Took a couple years, but yeah,” he said. “Sometimes I still need a little help, though.”

He tugged his shirttail out from the waistband of his jeans, causing his belt and the chain on his wallet to jingle slightly as he lifted his shirt to flash a strip of his stomach. You’re so distracted by the action and the cut of his v-muscle it takes a few seconds to register the beige nicotine patch stuck on his hip. You stared at him and then back at it, fingers itching to reach out and touch.

He leaned in, his face the closest it had been to yours all night, his voice hushed so only you could hear. “For when I’m really nervous,” he said.

Streetlights and stars blurred as you stepped out of the bar and he whirled you into the alley. The rough brick scraped your back and snagged on your dress as you were flattened against it and you gazed up at Eddie, string lights overhead shining brightly in your eyes.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly. “Are you ready for this to start?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight his eyes trained on your face. Your hands settled lightly on his waist and you gave an impatient tug as you nodded. It was all the invitation he needed.

His mouth met yours like the sun met the horizon. The softest kiss you’d ever had deepened gradually until you were grasping at him, fisting his shirt in your fingers. Your lips felt molded together, pliant to the other’s movements, but still insistent as they chased one another.

Control shifted subtly between you, taking turns drawing the other in and pulling back. More teasing, more toying. Yet you never denied each other long, unable to stay apart.

God, this was it. This was what it was always supposed to feel like.

It could have been hours you stood out there kissing and laughing, but you’d never have known. The only thing that alerted you to the passing of time was when the lights inside the bar shut off and the employees filed out for their final smoke break before heading home.

Giggling like terrible criminals begging to be caught, you and Eddie hugged the shadows and made your way back to his van. You rode home with your panties soaked, subtly shifting in your seat, trying not to think about the arousal pooled between your thighs. And at home, back in your room, you were so tempted to dip your fingers into the slickness as you thought about Eddie’s breath on your lips; how the ends of his curls tickled your sternum when he leaned into you; the way his scent lingered on your skin after being pressed between his body and that wall.

But you didn’t dare risk the disappointment that would follow when your pleasure receded like waves being drawn into a riptide; when you backed down from the edge of that cliff, feeling even emptier after not reaching that peak. Again. No, you couldn’t spoil this night with all that.

You saw him more throughout the week. He started popping into your father’s store almost as soon as it opened, offering you coffee and a kiss. And he spent the first hour of the morning with you at the front counter, propped up on his elbow with his chin resting on the heel of his hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, swatting him with a folded up newspaper after you finished doing the jumble together.

He just shrugged with all the casual ease of somebody whose own shop didn’t open until 11. Or noon if he was hungover. “What could be better than hanging out with my favorite girl?”

Favorite girl. The words lived in your brain all day. It made you positively giddy every time you thought about it, even causing you to accidentally enter a customer’s 15% discount as 51% and not even bother correcting it. The loss on a value pack of paint brushes and trays seemed a paltry fee for the smile that spread across old Mrs. Gershwin’s face when she saw her total.

Eddie started calling every night at 9:30, practically on the dot, and it didn’t take long for you to get in the habit of settling into your bed around that time so you could pick up the receiver in your room before the ringing disturbed your dad dozing in his recliner downstairs.

“So when do I get to take you out again?” he asked, clearly not oblivious to how it made you melt on the other end of the line.

You blushed your way through making arrangements for an early movie Saturday followed by dinner. Then, before beginning the long process of saying your goodnights, you paused to ask him the thing you’d been wondering since that night at the Hideout.

“Eddie…are we really doing this?” you asked, torn between giddiness and trepidation.

“I certainly am,” he hummed into the receiver.

He talked the whole way through the movie and still had more to say at dinner afterward.

It didn’t bother you, though. You loved listening to him talk. Your ears had gone so long without his rambling, it was more like music than words. His feet toyed with yours under the table and after you ordered dessert, he excused himself to use the bathroom only to slide into your side of the booth when he came back. You giggled over tiramisu and cheesecake, your sides pressed together from shoulder to ankle. Later, the tastes of your desserts would mix in your mouths as he kissed you deeply in his car dropping you off.

Everything about it felt so alive. So ripe with the promise of what this could turn into, what it had already become. In two dates with Eddie, you felt more connection than you had in two years of dating Carl. Not that it was fair comparing them. Nothing and no one could ever compare to this.

It was a Wednesday when he made a new proposition. You had already crawled into bed and swathed yourself in blankets to wait for his call. And after the few customary minutes of talking about your respective days, he brought up his idea for Friday night.

“Would you want to come over here for dinner?” he asked.

“You…you mean like your place?”

“I was thinking mine, but if your heart is set on a neighbor’s, I’m sure breaking in wouldn’t be too difficult.” He’s smirking so hard you swear you can hear it over the phone.

“I guess yours will do,” you chuckled. “Does this mean I’ll get to see The Hair in person?”

Eddie was living with Steve Harrington, which had taken a commanding lead for being the most confusing thing you’d learned since returning home. Apparently they’d been brought together by a shared friendship with Dustin Henderson, one of the kids from Hellfire Eddie had taken under his batwing during his third and final senior year. Dustin had spent months insisting both boys would get along if they only gave the other a chance until his badgering paid off.

Now, the pair shared a tiny apartment downtown, walking distance from Eddie’s shop and only a short drive to Family Video where Steve was now the manager. And Dustin evidently couldn’t go five minutes without congratulating himself for bringing the two of them together. Eddie liked to joke that they were now co-parenting the little shithead (affectionate).

“Actually, Steve is out of town this weekend,” Eddie said, struggling to contain his excitement and keep his cool. “So, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Breathe, breathe, breathe. “Oh, yeah?” you said, voice spiking just an octave too high.

“Yep. And, um…you could stay over if you wanted? If that sounds good to you?”

Stay over. You knew what that meant. There was something gut wrenchingly endearing about the way he asked—the innocent peal of his voice. But there was no doubt in your mind what he was getting at. This wasn’t going to be like crashing on his couch after a movie night or pouring yourself into his bed after a Corroded Coffin show that lasted to the wee hours.

This would be something new. Something completely different.

“That sounds great,” you said, finally.

And it did sound great. It just also sounded a little terrifying.

Admittedly, you hadn’t been on many dates in your life. But television and film had successfully indoctrinated you with knowledge of that classic Third Date milestone. And it made sense. He wasn’t some stranger. You’d known each other for so long, it stood to reason things would continue to accelerate between you.

And was that such a bad thing?

This was Eddie, after all. He was your best friend. He was your other half. You weren’t sure if you even believed in soul mates, so to speak, but if they did exist you couldn’t imagine anyone besides him in that role. He had stoked life into the coals within you that you were certain had burnt into a lump of ash. You never felt with anyone the way you felt with him.

So if you were gonna do this, you were gonna do it right.

You went shopping, fighting off anxious nausea as you perused the racks of lingerie in the far corner of a little boutique. Averting your eyes from the more salacious options, you settled on a matching set of midnight blue embroidered with silver thread to look like stars. It was made of thin mesh that gave the illusion of coverage, but revealed plenty through the sheer netting.

It also looked a little like something a wizard might wear. And for obvious reasons, you had a feeling Eddie might like that.

Securing your purchase you thought might make you feel more prepared, but it only caused your thoughts to unravel further. This was the first time Eddie would be seeing your underwear and it wasn’t even your own. At least it didn’t yet feel like your own the way your drawer full of less suggestive garments did. What if he thought you looked ridiculous? What if he laughed or got turned off because your thighs were too big or the pudge of your stomach grossed him out? Worse yet, what if you failed to live up to the implications? What if he saw it and assumed you knew what you were doing, only to be woefully disappointed by your skills? Or lack thereof?

It was impossible to reconcile the two wolves fighting for dominance in your mind. On the one hand, it was wildly exciting: the thought of finally getting to be with him and touch him and have him touch you back. At the same time, though, you were overwhelmed at the prospect. What if it changed things between you? You’d always thought you wanted more than friendship with him, but what if in that pursuit you lost the person you treasured more than anything in the world?

And then of course there were the normal fears.

After so much unfulfilling sex, you couldn’t help but be fearful your body would betray you as it always had. It was hard not to pin all your hopes on this and you didn’t want to add any more pressure to this night than you already felt. But even if you backed off that peak and failed to reach the summit, surely the ascent would feel just as nice as long as it was with him.

Right?

This was what you tried to tell yourself as you turned one last time in front of your mirror.

Literally everything about this night was making you uncomfortable and it hadn’t even begun yet. The lingerie that felt fine when you bought it was tight and itchy on your skin, and it felt glaringly obvious you were wearing it under your clothes—like a diaper or a straightjacket.

You’d shaved, even though it made you feel like a creepy bald Barbie, and even though you found the concept kind of disturbing. Whose brilliant idea was it anyway that to be sexy you had to look like a child between your legs? And you always wound up completely bare because you could never get it even and kept having to take more from each side until nothing was left.

Still, you did it. Because that was what everyone did, right? That’s what he would expect?

Shaking your head, trying to fling away all your thoughts, you busy yourself packing your small overnight bag. It was the same one you must have brought over to Eddie’s a hundred times over, but for the first time you found yourself doubting it. Would he think you were high maintenance for wanting your own toothbrush and a change of clothes? For bringing something comfortable to sleep in? Would he think you were a weirdo for not just sleeping naked? God, what if he saw it and figured you’d been sleeping with so many guys, you just kept it packed all the time?

Panic creeps up the back of your neck. It burns hot on your cheeks and makes your heart pound in your temples until you’re so dizzy you have to lean against the door with your head bent.

Breathe, you think. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Frustratingly slowly, the thrumming in your chest subsides. You managed to bring yourself down off the ledge and find your center—Eddie.

Eddie would make everything alright.

He always did.

Part Two

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #tw: anorgasmia

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analbedo · 1 year

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📔 that boy’s a liar ft asshole virgin killer jock bf childe

ngl im having Bad Childe Thoughts™️ sorry he’s such nonconner bait like skskfkkdks. also this was not supposed to be this long sadly i just got too silly wit it >_> also it’s been so long since i wrote i had to keep looking words up to make sure i used them right asksjdjsk i was staring at my phone for like 10 minutes bc there’s no way sinisterly is a word 🤨 anyway.

i could easily imagine him being, like, an asshole jock, probably plays some rich boy sport like lacrosse 😭 and every time the school year starts he’s always looking for another cute freshman to fuck. he had a thing for virgins, and no one was more virginal than a fresh out of high school girl, eager to find her first boyfriend, completely oblivious to the nature of men. (well, really, men like him.)

𐐪 warning: this fic contains dark content, please read my dark content disclaimer before continuing. minors dni.

🦢cw: virginity kink, dubcon/sexual coercion, noncon/rape (both implied and explicit, the word rape is also used), misogyny (i’m sorry women🥺), emotional manipulation, unhealthy relationships, unconsensual nude sharing, degradation, unconsensual creampie-ing (is there a better word for this?), hair pulling, mouth spitting, contraception mention⁉️

° 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 nsfw below the cut! 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 °

and that’s what led ajax to you, the bright eyed, overly naive barely legal cheerleader. most cheerleaders were too slutty for his tastes, but he could tell from the innocent way you swung your hips and nervousness around guys that you’d probably never had a boyfriend, let alone sex.

bagging you was too easy, he almost felt bad for you. he’d barely finished inviting you to one of his games when you’d excitedly accepted. afterward, him convincing you to go to a frat party later that night was child’s play (no pun intended). from there on, you were putty in his hands. ajax had no real intentions of dating you, you were a bit too innocent for his tastes. but, when you offhandedly mentioned you were saving yourself for “the one” (seriously?), he realized he had no other choice.

nothing really changed after you made it official, you still went to his games and parties with him, and sent him nudes that he was definitely sending to his friends’ groupchat. ajax, the notorious virgin killer, and his new victim. the general consensus was that you were the hottest one he found, which was an accomplishment, but his friends teased him for how long it was taking for him to smash— “you’re losing your touch there, casanova” kaeya texted him after he updated the chat on his latest date with you.

ajax rolled his eyes, but it was true. you were really not trying to give it up, even if you were blackout drunk, slurring your words at parties, even when he lit candles and set out rose petals for your one month anniversary, even when he said he’d never tell anyone. nothing was working, and he was starting to get annoyed. nutting on you face, tits, and ass wasn’t cutting it; if anything he was starting to get more and more sexually frustrated. he wouldn’t force you, he wasn’t that type of guy, but damn it if he wasn’t running out of ways to try to convince you to let him actually put his dick inside you; he’d even settle for just head at this point.

ajax reached his breaking point one night after a game. his team won the championship finals for their division, or something, which meant they had a solid chance at playing to win the state title. surely, he deserved something for that. so, when you invited him over to celebrate after, he was expecting more than you just surprising him with a homemade dinner after his shower.

“that’s it?” ajax asked, looking in disbelief at the table, his voice gradually growing louder and meaner as he spoke. “you fucking cook for me all the time, why the fuck would you think this is a surprise?”

you felt your heart sink a little bit; you’d put way more effort into it than your usual dishes, and you thought he’d might like a nice, fulfilling dinner after working so hard. ajax had little outbursts like this all the time, but he assured you that’s just how relationships are, and who would give up a tall, handsome, perfectly sculpted redhead athlete just because he’s a little temperamental.

you remained quiet; usually, this is where he’d apologize and say he had a bad day, or was tired. but, his tirade kept going.

“we’ve been together three fucking months and you’re still acting like the same boring virgin bitch as when we started dating. i thought for once you’d stop fucking neglecting me and finally fucking put out.” ajax reached up to run a hand through his damp auburn hair, his towel slipping down ever so slightly as he did so. you felt your face grow warm in embarrassment and desire. you wanted to wait, but him borderline flashing you sent butterflies down your stomach to between your legs.

“i’m sorry,” you said meekly, genuinely meaning it. you tried explaining how scared you were to do it for the first time; stds, pregnancy, or having your cherry popped, which you imagined would be more painful than it sounds. ajax always gave you the same responses, that he was clean, he’d pull out, he’d be gentle. you had no reason to deny him, really, you saw a future with him; and, if he’d dated you this long without having sex, you imagined he’d want to be with you forever once you said yes.

but still, something in your body was telling you to stop, leave, run. as many butterflies as he gave you, there were still cold claws of dread and fear dragging in your chest at the thought of sleeping with him. “i’m just not ready yet, baby. i’m sorry.” you replied, unable to meet his eye.

that was probably a good thing, because the look of disgust he casted would’ve been enough to make you break down in tears. “not… ready?” ajax asked in an angry low timbre. “you’re a fucking adult, for christ’s sake, what the fuck do you mean you’re not ready? it’s fucking sex, not a marriage proposal.” he huffed incredulously, running both hands through his hair now while throwing his head back. he turned away from you, finally allowing you to lift your gaze from the floor. staring at his back, you realized just how muscular your boyfriend was— and tall too.

if he really wanted it, he could easily take it. you wouldn’t stand a chance.

the thought alone made your throat swell and eyes prick. you never thought he could be that kind of guy; and if he is, wouldn’t it be better to just let him do what he wants? maybe he’d go easy on you if you said yes now.

“everyone else on the team is probably getting ass at that after party, and i’m fucking stuck here playing house with a childish ass bitch,” ajax groaned. his words felt like punches straight to the gut; you instinctively held your abdomen in response. he turned around to you, his face now free of anger, but full of… something. you didn’t know what, but it was sending shivers down your spine. “you know, this is the longest i’ve ever gone without having sex,” he said in a neutral tone, slowly walking around the table to approach you. you winced as he lifted your chin up, bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“look at me,” ajax said softly, but sinisterly. you forced your tear filled eyes to meet his, but not without trembling in fear. “you’re neglecting me, you know. isn’t it a little unfair to deprive me of intimacy, when i’ve been doing everything i can to make you comfortable? why are you so scared of me, hm? why don’t you trust me?” you merely blinked in response; if you talked you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back sobbing. “i don’t neglect you, do i? is there anything you want that i don’t for do?” you pondered the question; though he was rarely ever nice or this soft spoken, he had a point— physically, he’d given you all the cuddles and forehead kisses you could want.

still, that wasn’t the same thing as having sex? or, was it? who’s to say he finds cuddling as intimate as lovemaking? maybe sex was to him what cuddling was to you— maybe you were neglecting him. you shook your head softly in reply.

“good girl, you’re right. i’ve done everything i can to prove you can trust me, does that not matter to you? will i never be good enough for you?” ajax’s voice sounded sincere, but the cold, perverse look in his eyes still made you doubt. “i’ve been so patient, baby. i could’ve taken it any time i wanted, but i waited for you. you gonna keep me waiting forever?”

something about his logic wasn’t quite adding up to you— but, it didn’t matter. your brain was too clogged with fear to compute anything. plus, he confirmed what you tried so hard to not acknowledge all along: if he wanted you, he could have you, whether you wanted it or not. your heart thudded in your chest.

you felt guilty for depriving your boyfriend for so long, but that was overshadowed by your fear of what he’d do to you if you kept kept saying no. “ok,” you whispered meekly, so soft you were surprised he even heard it.

or, maybe he didn’t. it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

ajax smiled, though this time his grin of approval filled you with cold terror instead of giddy excitement. “i knew you’d do the right thing.”

***

“shouldn’t we use condoms?” you asked. you were sitting on your bed, wrapping your naked body with your fuzzy pink blanket. maybe you were as childish as he said. the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to do it, but, it was too late mow.

“they’re too small for me, but, don’t worry, i’m clean. can’t let an std fuck up my lacrosse career, you know?” ajax said casually, walking towards the bed.

“no, not for that. i meant for- i mean, like, i’m not on, like, birth control or anything—” you stammered.

“oh that’s fine, i was gonna pull out anyway. can’t let a baby fuck up my career, either,” he replied, chuckling at his own joke before giving you a light peck. “plus, you’re too hot to knock up right now, it’d ruin your body. i’d save that for after you’ve already hit the wall. anyway,” he said sliding back on the bed and leaning against the wall. “come here princess, i’ll show you what to do.”

you turned around and crawled toward him, sitting back on your heels. his comment about your body momentarily snapped you out of your fearful haze; were you really about to give it up to such an asshole?

ajax twirled his finger, motioning you. “face that way, towards the door. and get on your hands and knees”

“like this?”

“perfect. now—” instead of giving instructions, ajax put his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed you down roughly. “you’re gonna stay like that.”

it was kind of humiliating being in such a lewd pose; you’d always imagined your first time would be passionate missionary sex, not getting your back blown out. ajax shuffled behind you on the bed; he was taking his boxers off.

“okay, you ready? i’m gonna be honest, it’s pretty big, and it’s gonna hurt a lot before it starts to feel good, alright?” ajax said as he positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips as he slowly dragged the tip of his dick against your vulva. “just keep taking it, though,” he said, lowering his voice for the rest of his sentence: “i didn’t wait all this time just to get blue balled.”

ajax lined himself up with your hole, and you sucked in a breath as you felt the slight pressure of his tip on the outer rim. you winced, scrunching your face as you prepared for him to actually go in.

sadly, nothing could’ve prepared you for that type of pain.

“fuck— ajax stop, no, it hurts— it hurts too much—” you cried out, practically screaming.

“tch. stop being so dramatic, i’m not even halfway in,” ajax paused his speech as he pushed into you further, eliciting a yelp. the searing pain was almost enough to render you unconscious, and, god, how you wish it actually did. “it’ll hurt less once you’re used to it. relax, for fucks sake. the more you panic the more it hurts.”

you wished you could heed his advice— but, then again, what does he know? he’d only ever inflicted the pain, never received it. there’s no way he could comprehend how horrific it felt being split open, your body resisting every inch but still being made to take it. the pain came from between your legs and in your head, too, the few fleeting thoughts you had besides how much it hurt questioning how he could put you through this, if he really loved you, he knew you weren’t ready.

you abandoned speech altogether, merely sobbing as ajax continued to push his thick cock inside you.

ajax paused again. “crying’s only hot if i can see it. shut the fuck up, you’re killing the mood.” when you didn’t stop sobbing, he grabbed you by the ponytail, jerking your towards him so he could mutter in your ear; the shock was enough to shut you up, at least momentarily. “i swear i get soft ‘cause you keep whining like a bitch, you’re gonna suck it til it’s hard again, and i’ll make sure it hurts a whole lot fucking worse.” he let go of your hair, your body flopping limply back onto your bed.

you took a deep breath, biting down on your arm to silence yourself, and prepared for the worst.

ajax was angry now, and, being the cause of his agitation, he happily took it out you. you bit down so hard you could’ve sworn you drew blood as he continued to shove his cock inside you; his thrusts were rough, it felt as he was tearing you open. just as your brain grew delirious with pain, you felt one final shove before the warmth of his body was against your ass.

“there, that wasn’t so bad, was it, baby? i don’t even think you’re bleeding,” ajax cooed. you were so beat down you couldn’t even speak, but he didn’t really need a reply; he didn’t care how bad it was for you, because it was perfect for him. “but i know you’re still a virgin, or, were a virgin, ‘cause you’re so fucking tight.” he moaned as he held your hips and pushed into further, somehow managing to get even deeper. this caused a new type of discomfort; less of the searing torture of him going in, but a nonetheless dull, aching pain in your lower abdomen.

“fuck, you feel so good, pussy’s gripping me so tight like it’s made for me. think i just hit your cervix, too.” ajax’s hands traveled from your hips to your ass, massaging the soft flesh on either side. “you’re so fucking hot, i could probably cum just from this.”

panic became the new sensation that took you over. “but you said you’d pull out,” you cried, trying a last ditch attempt to crawl away from him.

ajax easily held you against him again, and sighed in annoyance. “i said i could, not that i would, stupid slut. you’re the last girl alive i’d knock up; who’d wanna spend 18 years with your annoying ass?”

tears returned to your eyes; is this really how he viewed you? was this entire relationship just a ruse to get in your pants?

well, it didn’t matter, at this point. he was already there, and wasn’t leaving until he finished. you had no choice but to take it.

ajax clicked his tongue before gently sliding out of you, barely an inch. he showed no mercy thrusting back into you, though, making that dull ache resonate again. he slowly pulled out again, leaving only the tip inside.

“damn, you’re pretty wet for a bitch that says she doesn’t want it,” he sneered. ajax slammed his dick back inside you; strangely, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time, minus him hitting your cervix. “but virgins are all the same,”ajax continued, picking up the pace at which he rutted into you. “you pretend you don’t want it to ‘cause of your purity bullshit, but the second i’ve got you bent over you start creamin’ on me like a porn star, can’t help yourself.”

the pain of him sliding into you was gone at this point; you could only feel the drag of his cock against your walls, rubbing against a spot that made ecstasy shoot through you. even the ache from him going too deep started to feel pleasurable. you couldn’t help but moan as waves of euphoria washed over you.

“yeah, you like that, baby?” ajax purred, before sending a sharp smack to your ass. he chuckled hearing you moan at that, too. “damn, you’re a masochist, too? didn’t think a pure little princess would be such a whore in bed.” he slapped your ass again, before reaching around to grab your neck and pull you towards him and titling your head back so he could look into your face. “bet you’re sorry for making me wait, huh? fucking tease,” he snapped, before spitting into your mouth. “swallow it.”

you did as you were told, disgusted by the feeling of the warm, foamy liquid landing in your mouth and sliding down your esophagus. he let you go, and you fell again back onto the bed. ajax placed a large hand on your back, pushing you down into the right position.

“keep your back fucking arched,” ajax scolded. with one hand pressing you into the sheets, and one firmly grasping the softness of your hip, he rutted into you, harder, and faster, each thrust sending shots of pleasure and pain throughout your whole body.

“ah- ajax- slow- fuck- slow down, ‘ts too much- too fast-i can’t—” you moaned, drooling onto the sheets. it felt so wrong, letting him do this to you, with all the awful things he’s said and done— but, you couldn’t help how good it felt taking his dick, every movement adding to the euphoric build up that made your body limo and head dizzy.

the intensity of pain and pleasure increased as he leaned over to hiss in your ear: “you’re gonna take what i fucking give you., slut.” ajax pried open your jaw, and shoved two long fingers into your mouth. “i’m tired of listening to you moaning, i wanna hear you gag for me, princess.” you choked around him, his digits pressing the back of your throat. “yeah, just like that, baby.”

the feeling of his fingers being pushed down your throat as he panted in your ear, while still not letting up on his rapid thrusts was all too stimulating; you felt your body tremble as you came, tranquillizing euphoria spreading your body like electricity. you could vaguely feel your pussy flutter around ajax’s dick, involuntarily clenching around him.

“fuck, you just got so much tighter— ah, wetter, too,” ajax moaned in your ear, burying his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder. “fuck, baby, i’m so close, feels so fucking good—” he cut himself off with his own panting, desperately chasing his own release.

it took you a moment to register his words in your post orgasm haze, but you quickly snapped to attention once you did. you jerked your head to the side so his fingers were no longer massaging the back of your tongue.

“wait- ajax, you said you’d pull out—”

“god, i know, i will, now shut the fuck up before you ruin it,” he groaned. his hands moved to yours, pinning your wrists down while as rhythm grew sloppy.

“ajax, please- you said you wouldn’t, cum inside me— please— please don’t don’t—“ you plead desperately.

“shut up, bitch,” ajax spat. “i know what im fucking doing,”. “i’m not gonna nut inside you— fuck— just need a little more—ah”

“please don’t,” you whispered softly; you were almost certain ajax wouldn’t risk cumming inside you— his reasoning was sound, but there again was that feeling of chilling dread as he kept messily rutting into you.

“fuck, ‘ts so good, so fucking wet— ah” ajax panted, indifferent to your reminders. his speed slowed, now more pronounced pounding. “fuck, fuck, i’m sorry baby, it just feels too fucking good, i can’t— ahh”

you screamed for him to stop, but it was too late; you could feel after his final thrust a warmth inside you, spreading deeper into your core as he wrapped his arms around you. “ajax, stop it— get off— let me go!” you screeched, desperately trying to break free from his grasp.

“sorry, princess, ‘ts too late now. shit, there’s so fucking much, too,” ajax sighed, pushing into you even harder. “fuck.”

nothing could describe the disgust you felt, trapped under your boyfriend’s sweaty, toned body as he forced you to take every last drop of his cum, shamelessly draining his balls inside your limp body. you knew you had to worry about pregnancy or an sti, but those were far from your mind.

the only thing you could think about is how bad you wanted to die.

ajax finally released you, getting off the bed and searching for his clothes. once free, you immediately crawled into a fetal position, tears pooling from your eyes as his cum drooled down your thighs.

epilogue

“sorry about that, by the way,” ajax said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t basically ruin your life. “it’s been so long since i last had sex, i guess i forgot how to pull out in time, so it’s kind of on you for making me wait.”

you said nothing; as humiliated as you were, you couldn’t risk more embarrassment by actually responding to him.

“hey, so, there’s still an after party going on, so i think i’m gonna check that out. you don’t have to worry about coming though— shit, sorry— attending, i know you probably have some shit you wanna work through right now. soooo,” you heard his footsteps head toward your bedroom door. he paused, as if he was waiting for a response, but eventually you heard him leave your room, head out the front door, and drive off. you laid on your bed, curled up in shame, for what felt like an eternity, until the loud text alert from your phone jolted you out of your catatonic state. it was a text— from ajax, surprisingly.

hey. left you a apology gift on your table. hope it helps.

you threw on a bathrobe and shuffled miserably back to your dining room. the elaborate feast you made was embarrassing to look at; all that effort just to get borderline raped by your boyfriend for his special night. you saw the gift he must have been referring to: a wad of bills, that, when you counted them it amounted to $65. you read the messy scrawl on the accompanying note:

enough for a plan b ♡

#tw noncon #tw dubcon #childe #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin smut #tartaglia smut #ajax x reader #<- damn how many names this mf got like ⁈

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bellewintersroe · 11 months

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Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader- smut

Part 7 of this series! Again, I’ll have to wait until this weekend for the Hungarian GP to continue writing which is annoying because I’m on a roll, but this is just a quick in between to feed all you thirsty people 😈

@allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @dinodumbass @ricciardhoe-3

Daniel finds himself missing y/n a little more than he figured. His desperation boils over the night before he’s supposed to see her again, and facetime sex ensues… angst follows when Daniel is starting to understand he may be too invested than what he initially realised…

no this gif is genuinely the sexiest thing I have ever seen oh my fucking god

Daniel was insanely happy to be returning to the F1 grid again. To be driving on the track again, and most exciting, in Las Vegas, filled him with utter joy. After the year he had before this was a breath of fresh air.

Daniel remained occupied through the days, training, eating, exercising, meetings, more training. He was always busied up. However when the clock would strike 9 and he was in bed early his mind would often linger to the girl back in England. They’d texted more often, but the craving wasn’t enough for Daniel, he wanted to see her, hug her, kiss her- his feelings had intensified and he’d finally admitted it to himself how he was falling for her. Maybe it was stupid, but Daniel ignored the consequences, too caught up in the bliss of utter happiness he felt whenever he had her close.

The night before he’d be seeing her again, he felt like he was about to burst from excitement. Like a little kid knowing they would be going on holiday the next day, Daniel couldn’t sleep a wink, thinking about her. His hands clicked on his camera roll, scrolling through the few pictures he’d taken of and with her. The playful one of them in bed he’d taken just to tease her, the other on the balcony of Monaco, when the view was beautiful but Daniel was actually just looking at her- and finally the one when he was inside her.

Fuck, he stared a little more intensely at the picture of him, his cock pressed inside her tight, little cunt as she pressed her perky tits together whilst one hand reached down to hold his. Her smaller fingers curled around his on her leg, only then did he truly see the intimacy in it. The way she’d often reach out for Daniel’s hands during sex, or when he’d have his mouth and lips pushed up against her pussy. Daniel knew he was getting turned on by it, and cheekily sent her the picture. It was 10 past midnight where Daniel was, meaning she was an hour behind in England. He hoped she was awake. Her day had seemed hectic, back in the office for a job Daniel never even knew she had. Momentarily, he felt guilt for texting her, possibly waking her up, but smiled when he saw her response.

Nice, Daniel What're you doing looking through those pics at this time?

Nothing much Daniel cheeked back, smiling like an idiot to his phone as he clicked on the imagine once more. Fuck, her body looked good, if only he had a picture of her face it would be 10x better. He had the genius idea of FaceTiming her, he didn’t think a phone call would cut it, he wanted to see her face, even without any sexual intentions. He missed her face.

Suree I believe that

Can I call you? sure With that Daniel was clicking the FaceTime option, as she let it ring for a moment before answering, not wanting to seem too eager. “You said call, not FaceTime.” She propped herself up in bed slightly, pulling the covers to hide her exposed chest. Not that she minded Daniel seeing. “Sorry.” He laughed gently, her eyes softening at the sound of his voice.

“Same thing.” Daniel added. “Yeah, apart from now you have to see how much of a mess I look.”

“You don’t.” Daniel frowned. “What’re you wearing?” He asked, out of genuine curiosity. “Oh! That’s why you wanted to face time me!” She’d teased, pulling her blanket up a little higher.

“No!” Daniels eyes widened. “Well I was thinking about you- I won’t lie, but I did wanna.. just FaceTime you.”

“Hmm.” She smiled, rolling onto her side and holding the phone in front of her. A warmth spread through her chest at his admission. “You were thinking about that picture as well?” She pointed out as his lips twitched up uncontrollably.

“No…” ”You’re a naughty boy, Daniel Ricciardo.” She flirted as the worst went straight to his cock. He let out a shameful giggle, resting his arm over my forehead. “I can’t help it, it’s so sexy. You’re so sexy.” He pointed out as she bit down on her lip.

“What’re you wearing then? Show me first.” She sat up straighter, propping the phone on a pillow ahead of her. An excitement bubbled in her stomach when he angled the phone down, revealing nothing but a black pair of underwear that he toyed with, with his free hand. His abs were delicious and she could see the slight bulge forming in his shorts. Sadly, it was harder to tell on camera than in person and she let out a sigh as she swooned.

“You look good.” She gently spoke as Daniel hummed, quick to point the screen back up to him so he could see her now. “Are you hard?” She giggled, Daniel glancing down.

“Almost- your turn, what’re you wearing?” He quickly bounced over the answer as she let out a soft laugh, angling the phone up. “Just my bed sheets.”

“Fuck, nothing else?” Daniel’s member twitched at the thought and anticipation of what was to come. “I have thongs on.” ”That means something different in Australia…” “Oh, sorry, underwear.” She teased.

“Show me.” Daniel was a little too eager as she bit down on her lip. “Where’s the fun in that, I gotta tease you first, no?” Daniels hand trailed down to his cock, giving it a squeeze as his large member continued growing from all the blood rushing there.

“Fuck, no teasing, y/n/n.” He insisted, slipping a hand under his boxers. “Are you touching yourself already?” She hummed out in an angelic tone as Daniel nodded. “Maybe.”

“Good.” Her voice lowered as she nudged the white sheet slowly down her tan skin, revealing her breasts first before showing the tiny little black, string thongs she wore. Daniel loved it when she wore black, she loved it when he wore black. Her hands pressed against her breasts, pushing them together slightly with a hum before a giggle passed her lips again. A

“I’ve got another hour before anybody’s home, Daniel.” She whispered. “Yeah?” He scanned over her face. “Yeah… but, I’ve never done this before.”

At her admission, Daniel’s hand retracted from his underwear. “We don’t have to do this.” He was quick to reassure. “No, I want to. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

“Yeah?” Daniel perked up at this. “How so?” He nudged her on, knowing he’d have to take the lead so she wouldn’t feel awkward. He found it oddly exhilarating she was doing this with him for the first time. She let out a nervous giggle again, biting down on her acrylic thumbnail.

“Been watching all the videos you’ve sent me. Touching myself to them.” Daniel let out a moan at her admission as his hand found his cock again, stroking under his shorts. “Fuck, you have?” As his movements began again she could see the slight tensing of his arm as he rubbed his shaft.

“Yeah.” The sight turned her on more than anything. “Tell me what you want me to do, Daniel.” She when whispered, half for guidance, half because it turned her on.

“Fuck, okay- play with your nipples, baby, get them nice and sensitive.” He watched her follow his instructions, letting out a quick sigh at the sight of her fingers nipping at the pierced buds. She let out a gentle moan with a wince. “Lick your fingers, baby.” He uttered as she dampened her feelings before rolling them over her nipples once again the wet feeling being a whole new experience.

“Daniel.” She sighed, angling the phone down so he could see the buck of her hips. He stroked himself harder, faster at this now. “That’s it, make yourself feel really good for me.”

She hummed in response, eyes still fixated on Daniel’s heavy lids as she squeezed the swell of her breast, glancing down to see the little thongs she was wearing.

“You feeling good?” He then questioned causing her to glance back up. “Yeah… I wanna- I wanna see what you’re doing, Daniel.” She barely whispered, a shy smile forming on her face as Daniel smiled, nudging the camera down to reveal his hand stuffed under his underwear, stroking slowly.

“Does it feel good?” She sighed, sliding out of her underwear and tossing them to one side, instantly feeling more comfortable at the sensation of being completely nude. “Would feel better if it was you.” He admitted, giving his balls a quick squeeze as he watched her angling the phone to rest on some pillows at the end of the bed. She’d bent over slightly, squeezing her tits together and Daniel wished he could just shove his face all up into them. “It will be soon.” She hushed, sitting back against the head of the bed as Daniel let out a throaty moan at the sight of her naked. His cock twitched and he pointed the phone back down to where he rubbed himself. “Take them off Daniel, I wanna see you.” Listening, Daniel slipped out of them, tossing them to one side as she let out a hum, sliding her fingers over her clit. Daniel thought he could finish there and then, just at the sight of her.

“Get yourself nice and wet for me.” Daniel muttered lightly as she whined. “I already am… fuck I’ve been like this everyday.” She’d admitted, the confidence erupting from how turned on she’d become at the fact he was touching himself over her.

“So have I.” Daniel let out a shaky exhale, one that made her shudder as her eyes fell closed, before she caught a glimpse of herself in the phone and lifted it again. “I look weird like that.” She giggled, biting down on her thumb.

“No, no it was fuckin’ sexy.” Daniel responded as she blushed furiously. “I’ve got toys… my fingers aren’t cutting it.” She then perked, Daniel leaking at the thought of her using one on herself. His hand moved faster, watching her come back into the frame with a vibrator, part of it that went inside of her.

“Fuck, show me, baby.” He pleaded at the sound of her moaning. Angling it down, she showed as she slowly pushed the bigger part inside her tight little pussy, hips jolting at the instant pleasure before the other, smaller part, pressed against her clit perfectly.

“Fuck, Daniel!” She squeaked, body seizing at the pleasure. His hand worked harder as he groaned through his teeth. “Wish I was with you, fuck, I wish I was there.” The Australian cooed. “Me too.” She gasped, the phone back up briefly.

“Keep it there.” Daniel instructed as she set it up a little better, squeezing her tits together for him as she let out an uncontrollable gasp, snatching at the pillows behind her. “Fuck, fuck.” She choked out as Daniel tugged on his shaft even faster. “I won’t last long.” She then admitted with a shy giggle, the intense pleasure being completely overwhelming. “Fuck.” Her head tossed back as Daniel automatically leaned his head to be able to see her- like he was there with her. “Shit, y/n look at the camera, look at me.” He spoke more firmly now as she did as she was told, crying out in ecstasy as she gripped onto her nipples. She was doing everything right, everything so good, Daniel knew he couldn’t last long like this.

“Show me- show me, Daniel, please.” She pleaded as he instantly switched the phone camera, showing the way his fucked himself into his hand. “Spit on your hand.” She choked out as he groaned, doing as she’d said and moving back to jerk himself off.

The wet sounds his cock now made was unimaginably sexy, every time he’d slide his hand over his sensitive tip, his thighs would tense and body would rattle from the sensitivity. It was beginning to push her over the edge, the sight of him and the feeling from the vibrator deep inside of her pussy.

“Fuck, I need you.” He cursed as she moaned out louder now, back beginning to arch. “I need your cunt so fuckin’ bad.” He borderline snarled as she sobbed out loud. “Please, please, Daniel, I’m gonna cum!” He felt himself moan at her words, dropping his head back as he felt an insatiable need eating him alive.

“Cum with me.” Daniel jerked his hips up, fucking them into his hand as he fastened his pace to an overwhelming speed, letting out soft grunts and moans, unable to hold anything back. Not when she looked that sexy, that good- not when he wanted to just bury his face deep inside that tight pussy of hers. Daniel watched her intensely, the way her hand came to hold onto the vibrator that was sending her over the edge, her skin looked so smooth and soft and tits looked so full- he wanted them in his mouth, most of all he wanted his cock between them.

“You ready?” He then cursed out, holding his breath as he felt his orgasm building up deep inside his abdomen. “Yeah!” She barely exclaimed, legs trembling as she was right on edge, waiting for his permission to cum. Daniels breathing became heavy, a groan escaping his mouth, as he began shooting his cum all over his hands, thighs and abs. The sight alone, never mind the sound, overwhelmed her senses and she came undone almost painfully hard with desperate pleas and whimpers of his name. It felt like the orgasm was never ending, she rode it through with Daniel's words of encouragement and soft little gasps before the vibrations became too much for her sensitive pussy. She pulled it out, it easily sliding from how wet she was, switxhinf it off and picking up the phone to hold above her tiredly. "Fuck, Daniel." She pouted, pussy still throbbing as she kept a light touch down there, milking her orgasm, as she looked over Daniel basked in a post orgasm glow. His hand had milked his cock now, pumping the last of his cum, feeling dizzy at how good she looked. It was quiet for a moment, both of them panting and exhaling harshly, coming down from the heated moment. She found it a little funny, somehow intimate, despite him being on a screen.

"You did good." He then hushed, head resting back into the pillow, watching her smile back to him, nuzzling the side of her face into the pillow slightly, giggling at the praise. "I wish I was there with you." He'd muttered as an even wider smile grew on her flushed cheeks. God, she was so painfully beautiful and sweet, Daniel liked that his words made her smile, it made him feel oddly complete. He’d never stop talking if it meant she looked at him like that always. "I wish you were here too, but… I'll see you tomorrow." she whispered, Daniel letting his cock grow soft in his hands, he wished he was growing soft inside of her instead. His eyes were following hers on the screen, admiring her worn out expression, blue eyes a little more hidden than usual from her tired eyelids. "I missed ya." He then admitted as she looked back to his sweet face on the screen. His cheeks were flushed pink and he had a shiny sheen of sweat over his face and chest. It was a sight to see. "I missed you." Shyly, she spoke the words, feeling that strange warmth in her chest. I like you, Daniel. Isn't it obvious? Part of her wanted to openly say that to him, I mean, surely he wouldn’t say he missed her if he didn’t like her?

“I gotta clean up, bear with me.” The two of them were away from the camera for a mere two minutes. She’d half expected him to disappear after that, end the call with a tired goodbye, but he came back, chatting about all kinds of nonsense with her.

“Hey, y/n?” Daniel muttered, causing her to jump up slightly, eyes fluttering open. “Mmmh?” She was too tired to speak. Daniel, however was tormented, kept awake with the constant urge to express his feelings to her. He didn’t know why he couldn’t say it, but fuck, he was falling for her- quickly. “Never mind.” He whispered, that slight something holding him back.

“Sorry for waking you..” she let out another hum in response, thinking nothing of his words before she relaxed back into the plush of her pillow again, sinking into a well deserved slumber.

When the call had ended, Daniel laid staring at the roof. That warm fuzzy feeling was undeniable, but there was a sense of anxiety and guilt that kept his chest tight, making it hard to breathe. How could he express his feelings and get them out in the open whilst remaining a ‘secret’? How would that work? Maybe they could ease their way into soft launching one another- but Daniel questioned how he’d ever be able to take her out on a date with the threat of her dad thinking their relationship was weird as hell.

What if she wanted to be open about this? Tell her dad? Or worst of all- if she wanted to keep Daniel a secret… he felt sick at the thought of continuing the secretive relationship, with it not actually going anywhere. Because it couldn’t- he’d got himself too far invested in her- with them- “Fuck.” He rubbed his face, overwhelmed by his racing mind.

Maybe he’d fucked up sleeping with her in the first place. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed her into that changing room, or been looking at her the way he had for the past 6 months of being close to her. He felt like whatever was going to happen would hurt, bad, but knowing he’d upset her absolutely killed him. But god, she was so beautiful and so perfect, he truly believed that if they were together they’d be amazing. If there was no boundaries, then he’d be taking her out every second of the day, showing her off- but fuck! There was boundaries, Daniel was officially torn.

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x Horner daughter

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chamiryokuroi · 1 year

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My thoughts on Tim Drake: Robin #10 heavy spoilers under the cut

First of all got to say it wasn’t a bad ending if we consider they had to wrap up this arc in such a short amount of time, gotta give it to Meghan she managed to figure out a way to answer as many questions as possible and give us a relatively good ending for a series that I feel was canceled with no reason.

You can definitely feel that the story was planned to be done in more issues, the building blocks are all there for an amazing arc and it is sad we had to condense it all in one issue.

Now into a more in depth analysis of the comic of my favorite parts.

The Labyrinth was such and interesting point I wish we could have seen more of, specially with the fact this is the cult if Dionysus.

I absolutely adore the fact that Bernard is fully aware of Tim’s identiry because we get such funny interactions like this where Pie honestly thinks Tim is cheating on Bernard with Robin, and that panel of Bernard laughing because of that is one of my favorites for sure, boy is having so much fun, as he should.

Now in a more serious tone, this two panels tells us so much of how Tim feels, how insecure he is of his own place, not only on his family, but in the world as a whole. That second panel specifically where we see Bernard having fun while Tim is just on the bg, knowing how hard it must be for Tim to wrap his head around his sexuality even now, a year after coming out and starting dating Bernard, this feels realistic, sometimes when you come out later in life it feels as if you do not fit exactly with the community, and it can be hard to find your place.

If I had a nickel for every time a creepy cult tried to recruit Tim into their ranks I would have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it is weird that it keeps happening.

This is honestly another point that feels like it was meant to be explored for longer before the cancelation notice came. At least it gives us an explanation of why Kate was acting the way she was, it took me a while to get it but basically after Tim saved Bernard from the cult back in Urban Legends Kate went around hunting down those that managed to escape, one of them being the son of this man that appears to be the leader of the cult, the son then took his own life and Kate was taken into the labyrinth, were we know Tim was being pumped with some hallucinogen gas of some sort, depending on how long she was on the labyrinth before managing to escape that might explain her memory loss, again this is all theorizing with what we are given since there wasn’t much space for it to be explain as it should.

And now we go back to Bernard who is looking around for Tim, going to all the people that knew him as Robin, and then those words “Tim takes care of everyone… but sometimes he needs someone to take care of him” hits me straight on the feels, Bernard is such a supportive boyfriend, he is definitely what Tim needs, someone that is there for him, not only for Tim, but also Robin.

Also the fact that Bernard is making his own homemade bat-signal with his hands is just adorable to me. Boy could had probably drove to Bruce’s house, but he doesn’t need Bruce’s help right now, he needs Batman.

And of course Batman responds. Bruce why were you following Bernard? Anyways, yet another great speech from Bernard “I thought you might be a ghost. Or you weren’t real. But the truth is you look sort of normal. Like regular-people normal.” Leave it to Bernard to understand exactly what Batman is, just a normal man trying to help as best as he can.

And then he says Tim needs help, not Robin, Tim. This is just Bernard out right telling Bruce “I know, and I don’t care, because Tim is in problem and you got to find him”

And then we get the best thing, Bernard, and Tim’s friends and family, rushing in to save him, just as he was losing hope of managing to leave the labyrinth alive. Absolutely in love with Bernard’s long ass coat.

And then we get to my favorite page. The uncertainty if it is really him or another hallucination, the confirmation that it is him, it is Bernard, here to save Tim. The hug, the way Tim is holding Bernard’s face, the only thing that would had made this better would had been a kiss.

And then we get to the ending, not much to say here, I just love these two pages, Tim just finally realizing he doesn’t need to be anyone else, that he can be himself and that he is right where he belong, and that he can be happy with that. The best ending we could have hope for with what we were allowed to have.

There are obviously many questions left unanswered.

What was exactly the Cult of Dionysus? Where did it came from?

What’s going on with Bernard’s parents?

What’s up with Moriarty? Who was his boss? What was his deal with Robin/Tim??

I am sad TD:R ended the way it did, had it been given the time to develop I feel it would had gotten better. But I am glad we managed to get as much as we did, now we just have to wait and see what will DC do now with Tim, and if Bernard will stay relevant or will they brush him under the rug.

#dc #tim drake #bernard dowd #timbern #this makes no sense but I just had to speak out #td:r spoilers #spoilers

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fiapartridge · 1 year

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self control | jack hughes

"take down some summer time / give up, just tonight..."

jack hughes x reader

summary: when your first night swim of the summer is interrupted by the one hughes you can't stand, you wonder if your self control is strong enough to not give in...

warning(s): smoking, swearing, sexual innuendos, grinding?? LMAO

i hate this, but it's also the only imagine i've managed to finish in the past week so here ya go 🤷‍♀️

Summers at the Hughes family’s lake house accounted for 99% of your most favorite memories. You would run around the house with Luke when you were younger, pretending to be pirates or deep-sea monsters, and when you got older, you would bake with Ellen, play cards with Quinn, or even judge the boys’ highlights with Jim.

But you never hung out with Jack.

He was more reserved than anyone else, and even in the 12 years of knowing him, he never warmed up to you. You didn’t know what you did to deserve this treatment: him switching topics whenever you would enter the room, never sparing a glance at you, saying ‘her’ instead of your actual name– sometimes, he wouldn’t even have the decency to say ‘her’, but instead just nod his head in your direction. At some point in the 12 years, you made peace with the fact that he didn’t like you. If he didn’t want to be friends with you, you didn’t want to be friends with him.

Though Luke would always push you guys to talk — you were his best friend and Jack was his brother. He desperately wanted his favorite people in the world to get along — but it would always end up with Jack or you leaving the room upon seeing each other, or one (or both) of you muttering a snide remark at the other, consequently making both of you leave the room at the same time.

Everyone just had to accept it: you and Jack are never going to be friends, like ever.

As if he knew you were thinking about him, Jack emerged from the back door of the patio as you bobbed your head out of the water, only 10 minutes into your first night swim of the summer. You were confused, to say the least. Everyone knew you swam at night— Jack knew you swam at night, so why was he here, sitting down at the edge of the pool, his legs dangling in the clear blue water as he watched you swim laps around the pool.

You felt his eyes on you. You were wondering if they were judging you, or simply watching, observing. Maybe he was finding another thing to insult you with, or maybe he was trying to come up with ways to fix your form, to make him feel better than you, which was something you felt like he did often.

Tired of his stares, you turned around, treading water as you met his gaze, silently acknowledging his presence. You thought he was going to say something, make fun of you maybe, but he said nothing. He simply reached beside him, pulled out a cigarette from a pack of 24, lit it, and blew smoke.

You scoffed, losing eye contact with him. “What are you doing?”

He took a drag before holding it in between his index and middle finger. Inspecting the dart, he said, “What do you think I’m doing?”

You shook your head. “Ruining my night.”

“You talked to me first, princess.”

Princess. God, that made your blood boil. He was so entitled, you wondered if he actually called girls that. Did they eat it up? Did they hold onto his hand, and follow him to his bed? Did they get butterflies from that belittling line?

You held pity for them, you really did. They didn’t know him enough to know any better— not like you did. You knew Jack brought girls home every night, sometimes even two if it was after a really good win. The summer, though, he claimed he didn’t have time for girls; that he was too busy spending time with his friends and family to have a one-nighter with a girl whose name he won’t even remember by the time the sun comes up. But everyone knew what it was— what it really was.

Jack was in love with you, and you had no clue. It’s funny how you can call people oblivious to love when you can’t even see it yourself.

But everyone else knew. Hell, they knew for the past 12 years. They could see it in the way you two talked to each other, or the lack thereof. When you two talked to each other, it was like the sparks before starting up a campfire, but it was when you two didn’t talk, when you would just look at each other across the room, that brought the entire world to flames. Because there could be a million people in front of you, but you’re only looking at one pair of green eyes.

That was the magic of it all. You could hate each other all you wanted, but who’s eyes are you meeting at the end of the day?

Scoffing, you said, “You’re so fucking irritating, you know that?”

“Could say the same thing about you.” He sounded disinterested, and that made you want to scream.

You shook your head. “Fucking unbelievable,” you muttered. “You know, I don’t even know why you hate me,” you said, raising your voice. “What did I ever do to you?”

He didn’t say anything. He just took another drag, ignoring you.

Pissed off, you kicked off the wall and swam towards him by the edge of the pool.

You were close to him— so close.

You took the cigarette from his fingers, holding it centimeters away from his lips. The blue glow from the lights installed to the floor of the pool illuminated the scene and you wondered if it was just you feeling all weird and tingly, like you didn’t entirely hate this.

You whispered faintly. “Smoking’s bad for you.”

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, your chest moved up and down, and he could see you bite down the corner of your bottom lip. Jack couldn’t help himself.

He was weak for you.

Grabbing the dart from your hands and throwing it behind him, Jack slid into the pool, grabbed your hips, pulled you closer to him, and brushed his lips over yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he murmured.

You shut your eyes, breathing in the situation. You were scared. Sure, it was a simple kiss, but all of those girls that he’s brought home before? Were you just gonna be another tally on his board? But then you remember: this is Jack. This is the same boy you watched pee his pants from laughter when he was 10, the same boy you saw holding his mom’s hand merely two days ago. This was Jack you were talking about. Sure, you weren’t great friends. You weren’t even friends. But you knew him. You knew he cared about you because Luke cared about you. Because his mom, and his dad, and his older brother cared about you. To him, you were everything.

To him, you were 12 years in the making.

“Don’t stop.”

You pressed your lips against his and he immediately kissed back. Open-mouthed kisses, hand-holding-the back-of-your-head kisses, pulling-your- hips-closer-as-if-that-was-even-possible kisses. You were engulfed in Jack Hughes, and you weren’t so sure if that was a bad thing, or not.

He migrated two steps to the left, sitting down on the steps leading down to the pool, grabbing your hips and sitting you down on his lap. This moment was something straight out of a movie scene, like you were waiting for someone to yell “cut!”, or to tap you on the shoulder and tell you that this wasn’t real.

But when you felt his tongue break the barrier, the slight whispers of your name, and his hand moving up and down the small of your back, you knew this was real. You were kissing Jack Hughes, and you really liked it.

But then you remembered: you were kissing Jack Hughes. You never made things easy for him, and you weren’t starting now.

“Is that all you got?” you murmured breathlessly.

He smirked. “I’m not even sweating yet.”

When Jack connected his lips with yours once again, he rolled your hips against his, creating friction between the two of you, and oh, it felt good.

“Don’t think,” God, this felt amazing. “This means I like you,” you breathed against his lips.

It meant exactly that, actually.

He laughed before pulling away from your lips. He bent his head down and pressed his lips against your neck. Your head lulled back slightly because, fuck, he’s good at this. Between kisses he said, “I won’t stop until you admit it.”

“We’ll be here forever then.”

“I’m okay with that,” he smirked before diving back into your neck, sucking and nipping at the exposed skin, not even caring that this was definitely going to leave marks.

It only took seconds later before you were admitting to Jack that you liked him. Jack stayed true to his words and stopped. Well, he stopped kissing your neck. But when his hands trailed down to the ties behind your back, pulling the strings to completely discard your bikini top, which was now floating over the water a few feet away from you, you both knew you weren’t stopping any time soon.

And you were more than okay with that.

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #hockey imagine #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #nj devils imagine #nj devils

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damon-loves-pie · 2 years

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Girls Talk Boys

"Girls Talk Boys."

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader.

Word count: About 3,200 words

Warnings: 18+, Some ‘smut’ not much though kissing, talking about sex, some touching, but nothing too vivid. Talks of sexual relations, hidden relationships, sex toys implied. Henderson reader, and of course Eddie and Max never got hurt.

ANOTHER WARNING: Max does imply asking about sex toys and how people are in bed just like most teenage girls I know, I know she’s young but going off how I was at 14/15 I was buying them already and experimenting with things like that. She DOES NOT DO anything sexual, she just teases Nancy and the reader and asks about their sex life. But if it’s going to bother you I ask you please to not read it, or hate on it since again I am writing based on how I have experienced life.

Summary: After defeating Vecna the party has made it mandatory to have dedicated hang out days. It is boys/girls night at Steve and El/the byers. Eddie and the older Henderson Sister have a secret relationship while people ask why they aren’t together.

Author’s note: Hello everyone! I am back with another story! I feel great to have been able to write not one, but two stories! Especially after not having had motivation to do anything in months. I had gotten inspiration for this actually weeks ago but just couldn’t find a way to put it in words. I was driving and girls talk boys by 5sos came on off my playlist and it got me thinking. And yes I did listen to the song 10 million times while writing this. It is 3 AM where I am, so I have not proofread and don’t want to wait to post because I was excited about this. I hope you all enjoy!

Writing Masterlist

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Summer of '86 was unlike any summer before. It felt like there was more pressure to make it as normal as possible for all of us, especially after what we've been through the last couple of years. We all realized after the final battle against Vecna we were bonded for life and needed to make sure we took care of each other.

Which is why that March after the government somehow cleared Eddie's name, we started having dedicated nights for the party outside of our usual hangouts. The second Saturday had became movie/game night for everyone. While the 4th Saturday of the month was dedicated to boys/girls night.

It was something that was all agreed upon. We would switch out homes, parents fully understanding the need of it. (Well besides Mr. Wheeler of course, but Mrs. Wheeler is quick to put him in his place.) Though it seems the usual hosts tend to be Steve and El/Byers. Steve's parents still don't seem to care to be home and Joyce somehow convinces Hopper we're all grown enough to be alone and that if anything were to happen, it would somehow happen even with them there by reminding him of high school.

All the parents knew of everything though. After the upside down broke through to the real world, there wasn't anyway of hiding what we all had been dealing with the last couple of years. Steve's parents just wanted to make sure their house was okay, while the Sinclair's were pissed to find out both of their children had put themselves into dangerous situations.

Dustin and I's mom wasn't happy with us, after having lost our father she didn't want to experience the loss of someone else important to her. (We didn't have the heart to tell her what happened to Mews though, that will forever be a secret.) Max's mom couldn't believe she had moved her daughter to a place more dangerous than California, when she moved here in hopes of keeping her safe.

Mrs. Wheeler and Mr. Wheeler didn't have a lot to say, Mr. Wheeler still doesn't believe that we've spent the last couple years actually fighting these things. He claimed we all had great imaginations, while Mrs. Wheeler was in shock but made us promise to tell her and the other parents if anything were to ever happen again.

Wayne didn't care about the upside down, or the monsters. He was just happy his boy was safe, and had gotten cleared of all chargers. He claimed to have known the government was hiding more than the masses were being told of. Said if they had just been honest, maybe none of this would of ever happen.

I don't really know what happen with Argyle’s parents, to be honest I'm not even sure if they know, with him being 18 when the events happened. Robin's parents at first wanted to move her away, to shelter her from all of this. She was supposed to be focused on graduating and band, not getting involved in this mess. But she convinced them to stay since she was already 18 and an adult, plus since she only had a few months till graduation.

Which talking about graduation; Nancy, Robin, and Eddie managed to graduate. Nancy and Robin were a given but Eddie got through with a loophole. After the 'earthquake' ruined half the town, they wanted to push out all of the students to make room for those who needed shelter. So basically everyone got passed for the remainder of the year.

But the weirdest thing to have happened since Vecna is Eddie and I. After Eddie almost got killed in the Upside Down, I couldn't keep my feelings a secret anymore. Little did I know before speaking out to him about it that night in my house, he himself was preparing to tell me how he felt.

Both of us couldn't imagine having not told each other how we felt and didn't want to risk another moment. That night lead to where I am today, pinned under Edward Munson as he begs me to skip girl's night.

It was June 28th, 1986. The last Saturday of the month and instead of getting prepared for going to El's, I was listening to Eddie's excuses.

"Come on sweetheart, do we really have to go tonight?" He teases against my neck, lips loosely moving against my skin while he leaves small, sweet kisses. The air was thick and heavy as he held me beneath him, letting his rough hands hold my hips in place while his lips explored my body.

My body ached with desire at the thought of staying in the sheets with Eddie. With my hands running beneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching into his back as he bites my earlobe slightly, causing me to gasp softy.

"No," I moan lightly, his tongue swirling around my collarbone before he bites the sensitive skin. "B-But, I think it would make everyone question where both of us were." I stutter, feeling his hands roam up underneath my shirt onto my stomach, shivering from the touch.

"We can just say we forgot," He breathes, continuing to work on my body. His lips trailing kisses up my neck to my lips, connecting his with mine. My brain fogged as his tongue traced my bottom lip before entering my mouth. Moaning into the kiss, I roll my tongue against Eddie’s, his hands moving to feel under my breast, cupping them slightly.

Part of me wanted to say fuck the others and stay right here melting beneath his touch. But I can't, we can't. Pulling away, I set my forehead against his. Both of us breathing heavy as we look into each other's eyes.

"Eddie, till we tell everyone, we can't risk anyone asking anymore questions than they already do." I tell him, feeling my chest move up and down heavily. Eddie nods slightly, understanding.

We both had wanted to keep it a secret because we hadn't wanted to give our friends another big change to deal with. We felt like it wasn't fair to them especially after everything that had happened, given we didn't expect to keep it a secret for so long. But the town was finally getting back to normal.

"We don't have to sneak around much longer, I promise." I smiled at him, pushing back his hair out of his face.

"I know, (Y/N). The town has almost everything rebuilt and people are finally starting to move back into their homes." He nods, leaning over to grab a cigarette off the nightstand. I watch as he sits up, lighting it before leaning against the wall of his bed.

Wayne and him had gotten a good amount of hush money from the 'misunderstanding' and bought a nice little house for the two of them here in Hawkins. People were fleeing after having realized Hawkins was more 'cursed' than they thought. But that meant that Wayne finally had his own room ever since having taken Eddie in when he was a boy. I hated how it had to of happened, but I was happy they were able to make the best of things.

I smiled at him as he offered the cigarette to me, taking it between my fingers. Bringing the cigarette to my lips, I inhaled deeply picturing the reactions of everyone once they knew.

"Do you think they would find it weird? Even though they keep asking why we aren't together yet?" I look at him, watching his eyebrow furrow as he takes the cigarette back between his fingers.

"Why would they find it weird?" He asks, blowing smoke out of his lips. Shrugging, I blush slightly.

"Because it actually happened? And maybe they will find it weird because they didn't expect it to." I tell him nervously.

"Do you think dating me is weird?" Eddie teases, passing the cigarette back to me.

"No," I laugh as the smoke bursts out of my mouth.

"Well then they shouldn't think any different." Eddie reassures me placing his hand on my knee, giving it a light squeeze before handing me the cigarette with his other hand.

"It's just this will be big news to them, especially Dustin. He looks up to you so much." I sigh, putting the cigarette out in his ashtray.

"I know sweetheart, but I don't think them knowing would change anything, hell like we said they keep asking both of us when it's going to happen." He reminds me, drawing circles on my knee with his finger lightly. Eddie chuckles, causing me to smile I turn towards him.

"What?" I laugh lightly.

He smiles slightly, shaking his head.

"It's just you've never actually told me what the girls say to you." Eddie tells me, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I felt my face redden as he looked at me, knowing there was a reason I never told him about what goes down at girl's night. It's the same reason I try to not pry about boy's night.

Pulling my hands to my face, I feel a nervous laugh escape my lips.

"They just ask the normal things. Like what I think of you, if would I date you," I tell him, as my voice trails off " or If I would uh um sleep with you." I mumble, hoping he didn't hear the last part.

But unfortunately Eddie did, causing a grin to spread across his face, brown eyes shinning.

"Oh and what do you say? Would you sleep with the freak?" He teases.

"Wouldn't you wish to know." I laugh, shoving my shoulder against his.

"Well I tell the guys I think the world of you." Eddie smiles knowingly, connecting my hand with his.

--------------

Girls night has been a on full spring, El and Max shoving Chinese takeout into my hands as soon as I walked through the door. We watched some movies we all brought since we couldn't check out movies from Family Video after it had been destroyed. We also painted our nails, and even convinced El to let me pierce her ears after watching Grease.

It had been a fun night so far. Which is why at 1 am when we ended up laying around the living room, I knew it was far from over as our monthly talk was executed.

As always Max started the conversation, turning towards Nancy.

"Okay, so Nancy we need to know. How is it with Jonathan being back?" Max asks innocently, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth, watching as Nancy smiles. "Leaving your bedside drawer alone now?" Max continues, getting straight to business as Nancy's eyes widen while her face goes red.

I laugh, as Nancy gasped.

"Max," She laughed nervously, tossing some popcorn at her. Giggling, Max puts her hands up in defense.

"Hey, were were all thinking it." Max shrugs as Robin chuckles at the sight.

"You still didn't answer her question Wheeler." Robin smirks making Nancy glow more as she pushes her hair off her shoulder nervously.

"It's uh- um been nice." Nancy admits, "And yes, I've-um been leaving my bedside drawer alone more often now." She said sheepishly, bringing her hands to her face as we all erupted in a howl to her response.

Still giggling Max turns towards me, still wanting to start off tonight's talk headstrong. I raise my eyebrow at her in challenge as she grins in acceptance.

"Now enough about Nancy, how about you (Y/N). Have you found someone to take place of the box in your closet?" She questions, making all the girls turn towards me. I shake my head, popping a few M&Ms into my mouth.

"I think you need to stop snooping through our rooms and take a look under your boyfriend's bed." I laugh, leaning back into the couch.

"Erica has said some things." I tell her as she shakes her head in disgust.

"Uh gross, I don't care to know what boys look at. They go feral over a piece of bread." Max shudders. Making us all snicker at her sudden repulsion.

"But let's be real, has anyone caught your eye yet?" Robin continues for Max, making eye contact with me. As I shake my head, shrugging.

"I'm just not looking to get into a new relationship." I admit, telling partially the truth. El furrows her eyebrows at me.

"Don't you want to be happy?" El asks, making me shake my head at what this poor girl has been taught.

"You don't need someone to be happy, and my box in my closet takes care of me very well." I tell them, pointing at the other three. They all share a glance before Nancy turns back towards me.

"You know who I think would be okay with your box?" Nancy says, making me hum in response as she gains confidence.

"Eddie." She smirks as Robin claps in excitement.

"Oh yes defiantly! Remember when we were in his room and saw the handcuffs on his wall!" Robin reminds Nancy. Causing Max to smile in response.

"He defiantly is a freak for reasons people don't know." Max nods as the older girls nod in agreement. Poor El looked confused, not understanding how far sex can actually go.

"Why would he have handcuffs in his room? He's not a police officer." El asks, causing all of us to laugh nervously.

"That's a conversation for another day honey." I tell her as she nods, understanding I'll explain it to her a different day. I was trying to not let my face redden at the conversation at hand, because I had defiantly used those handcuffs on multiple occasions; on me and Eddie.

"I still haven't heard a no, have you ladies?" Robin raises a eyebrow, glancing at the girls.

"I have not either Robin." Nancy agrees as all their eyes go back on me causing me to laugh lightly.

"Eddie is just a friend." I lie causing all of them to roll their eyes.

"So was Jonathan." Nancy states.

"And so was Lucas." Max reminds, making me feel defensive.

"That doesn't mean me and Eddie are going to become anything." I point out.

"But he likes you." El states, not understanding why we wouldn't date each other.

"What?" I choke on my drink, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"He likes you, I can tell." She tells me.

"He most defiantly likes you." Nancy agrees.

"And you like him too." El points out.

"I don't think you guys know what you're seeing." I roll my eyes, throat starting to tighten under the pressure of the girls.

"(Y/N) will you please just admit you're into him." Robin begs. As Max fights herself on sharing a piece of information, before deciding to share it with the room.

"You're over there almost every night for some reason." Max speaks up.

"You pay attention to when I'm over there?" I look at her, raising an eyebrow.

Eddie's home hadn't been the only one available in the neighborhood he moved to, just like his trailer wasn't the only one to get ruined. Max once again had became his neighbor as her mom had to find a new place to live.

"Funny enough the nights you aren't there, Eddie doesn't seem to be home either." Max smirks, knowing she connected the dots a few months ago as the girls soak up the information.

Nancy's face lights up as she realizes what she just heard.

"OH MY GOD." She says sitting up, slamming her hands on the floor.

"OH MY GOD!" She squeals, "You two are already dating!" She points at me as my face turns red, not knowing how I could get out of this.

Everyone jumps up slightly at my face turning red. Sighing, I pick up a Twizzler.

"You can't tell anyone." I point it at them as they scream. After everyone calms down Max leans forward.

"So does he really live up to the freak title?" Max asks, causing a laugh to escape my lips.

------

Eddie's P.O.V

Instead of being in bed with (Y/N), I'm stuck here listening to Dustin give Steve Harrington love advice. Not that I don't find it amusing that King Steve is now needing a 15 year old to tell him what to do to find a girlfriend.

"I'm telling you that you need to find your Suzie dude." Dustin tells Steve while all of us guys lay in different parts of the living room. Steve looked annoyed with the young boy, wondering why he always felt the need to help him.

"How come you don't bug Eddie on finding his Suzie." Steve says defensively, wanting not to the the topic of conversation.

Curiously I glanced at Dustin, wondering why I haven't heard him bug me on finding someone for a few months actually.

Anyone could tell that Steve's words had taken Dustin aback especially by the way Dustin goes to speak and then pauses for a second when he realized all the eyes were on him. Putting his hands up in defense he goes to speak.

"Okay it's not my place, but I think Eddie has already found his Suzie." Dustin tells us, making my throat turn dry.

"What do you mean?" I ask, rubbing my neck slightly. Dustin turns to me, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, I hear you sneak into my sister's room every other night." Dustin reveals, causing everyone to gasp. "My mom might be deaf but I'm not, and those walls are thin." He tells me.

"Hell yeah man, you found the girl of you dreams. Good for you dude." Argyle smiles, lifting a his drink at me in cheers. While I nod, before turning to Dustin.

"Dustin I don't know who you're hearing but it's not me." I shrug, trying to keep my cool as the boy rolls his eyes.

"How many other people roll up listening to heavy metal? Plus you park right down my alley." He tells me. "Also, I'm not stupid." The younger brother reminds me.

"I park down your alley at midnight, why are you out at midnight?" I question him, leaning towards him.

"Why are you down my alley if you're not dating my sister?" He challenges, leaning forward as well.

"Hold up, hold up. You're telling me Munson here is screwing Henderson?" Steve asks. "How the hell did that happen?" Causing a chuckle to escape my lips, I always knew he had a thing for her, it's probably why he was nice to Dustin in the first place.

I watch as Dustin physically gags.

"Ew dude, don't say that. She's still my sister." He shakes in disgust.

"Well it sounds like you've been listening to it for a few months." I laugh, pulling my beer up to my lips.

"They make Walkman's for a reason." Dustin shivers.

While everyone else caught onto the words that just left my mouth.

"Months?" Mike and Lucas's eye's widen.

"Months," I nod.

"Now that's not fair, I thought she was off limits." Steve shakes his head in annoyance.

"She was supposed to be, but it looks like someone didn't listen." Dustin eyes me, causing a chuckle to escape my lips.

"Okay, to end on a serious note. I am going to need you guys to not say anything because your sister will kill me if she knew I told." I explain to them.

-----

Thank you!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things spoliers #stranger things season 4 #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imgine #eddie munson imagine

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romana-after-dark · 1 year

Text

The Wrong Way Master List

Gif by @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

Raider!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Raider!Tommy Miller x Fem!Reader

Spotify Playlist

Inspiration came from @toxicanonymity and her fantastic Raider!Joel.

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

Aka: my mom sold me to One Direction

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, dub con on tommy? idk he's not really into it but feels like he has to, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot) but fair warning, major age gaps, love triangle, pregnancy/birth, threats of abortion, major character death, mentions of potential csa/child abuse but does not even come close to happening, forced pregnancy, forced housewife shit, breeding, breeding kink?!?!

This is a reader fic, reader is early 20's, Joel is 40's at this point, reader is small enough that the men can lift her, but these are strong men. Reader is also refered to as little one, little girl ETC, but that's more in reference to her age/innocence than physical size.

Unknown chapters at this point but heres a starter

Chapter 1: Joel takes you away from everything you know

Chapter 2: Joel takes what he wants, Tommy tries to make things easier

Bonus Chapter: Tommy takes Little One's virginity

Chapter 3: Joel softens up, and readers learns her roll in all this

Chapter 4: Little One is getting cocky, and finds herself in trouble, but Tommy and Joel are there for her

Chapter 5: Joel and Tommy don’t feel good

Suggested drabble: Period sex

Chapter 6: Things change with Tommy, and Joel shows a more vunerable side during a near disaster.

Chapter 7: Little One and Lorenzo spend some time together, and Lorenzo drops a bomb on Little One.

Chapter 8: For 6 months of Little One's pregnancy her relationship with Joel and Lorenzo shifts and changes.

Suggested Drabble: Brotherhood

Chapter 9: The aftermath.

Suggested Drabble: “It Wasn’t Always Like This”

Chapter 10: The escape does not go as planned.

Alternate ending: a happier end

Canon Sequel Mini Series, Ghost of You

Follow Ellie's life sifting through to lies to discover the truth of her creation.

Dark Ending Timeline: Going Under

Going Under: Chapter 1:

Going Under: Chapter 2:

Going Under: Chapter 2.5:

Going Under: Chapter 3

Going Under: June and Tommy

Going Under: Chapter 4

Going Under: Finale

Suggested drabbles to see how the uncles are doing after the canon ending: Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy, and Better Than Revenge

If neither ending satisfied you or if there was something you wanted to see but didn’t, if you wanna write something in universe will be happy to link it to my masterlist!

Art by @melodymakesart

Drabbles, One Shots, Thots

Period Sex: Period sex with Joel makes Little One more confused than ever at what she is to Joel

Well, That’s Alright Because I Like The Way It Hurts: Joel is gone for longer than expected and you worry about him. When he comes back, you let him take his frustration out on your body

Brotherhood: Tommy and Joel reflect on their relationship as brothers.

“It Wasn’t Always Like This”: In Tommy’s arms, Little One thinks over her year with Joel

Lorenzo, Zach and Tommy: Lorenzo is slowly recovering, meets his niece for the first time

Better than Revenge: Lorenzo and Tommy can’t get revenge on Joel, but they can get revenge on the one who started it all

Zach and Lorenzo’s Wedding

Gateaway Car by Taylor Swift, thoughts by @fandxmslxt69

Art by @k-ra

Joel and Lorenzo by @fen-is-unwell

If this sort of thing doesn't interest you or triggers you, hide dub con and non con from your tags as I will be tagging any fics like that as such

Main Blog (filled with more normal fics lol): @romanarose

This is absolutely not anything anyone needs to do bc ur lovely comments are enough but if anyone makes a book board, art, a fic or anything based off this series, you absolutely can! I know some creators aren’t for it but I love when people do that, and I’ve written a few fics for a few series myself. If you are so inclined and are okay with it, I’ll attach them to this master list (that includes if you don’t like my endings you can make your own 😂)

But as always, nice comments mean the world. I know with this sort of content you may not want to Reblog it on your page, but if you leave a comment or send an anon, that means the world and keeps me writing!

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #tw rape #dub con #non con #dark joel miller #romana after dark #dark!Joel #the last of us hbo #joel miller fic #joel miller reader #joel miller reade smut #dark joel miller reader #tommy miller fem reader #tommy miller smut #tommy miller fem!reader #the wrong way fic #the wrong way series

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witchthewriter · 2 years

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐲𝐫𝐚, 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

SFW🌿

⭑ There was too much passion, too much desire, for the four of you to be separate.

⭑ You moved to Dragonstone, where the chambers were much larger than the ones at King’s Landing.

⭑ And although you do have a shared room, you have chambers of your own. Where you can store your belongings and hide away if you wish it.

⭑ Harwin rarely uses his rooms, and is usually in someone else’s.

⭑ Rhaenyra’s is closest to yours and you often find yourselves snuggle at night.

⭑ You’re all equally in love with each other. And I mean everyone is. Even Harwin and Daemon. That might be inconceivable, but sexuality is a spectrum and cannot be defined all the time.

⭑ Daemon loves Harwin’s intensity and his passion. He finds it invigorating, blood-boiling and exciting.

⭑ Harwin loves the way Daemon’s mind works and he is constantly asking what he’s thinking.

⭑ Rhaenyra and Daemon are married, while you and Harwin married four years ago.

⭑ You had this arangement for two and a half years at King’s Landing. You all tried to keep it a secret. But ever since moving to Dragonstone, you all feel like you can be your true selves.

⭑ Rhaenyra still has Jace, Luke and Joffrey from Harwin, and she is now pregnant with her first child from Daemon.

⭑ Laenor is still ‘dead’ to the world. But Harwin was practically saved from his fate by his marriage to you. It took him out of the spotlight with the allegations that Laenor wasn’t the children’s father.

⭑ You and Harwin haven’t been trying for children yet - you still take contraceptives. You haven’t yearned for motherhood quite yet.

⭑ And Harwin does not mind that in the least. He’s just happy with his family already - there’s nothing missing. Nothing that he pushes for you to do.

⭑ Daemon is an enigma to you -

⭑ He’s not like many men, not many at all.

⭑ You fell in love with him when you were younger. And yes you have admitted that to him - it was during a night that you were all drinking. Someone came up with the idea to tell secrets to each other. And you told that one.

⭑ No one shamed you for it though.

⭑ Rhaenyra has loved you ever since you came to court at age 10. She didn’t know it was love. She thought it was friendship.

⭑ You, her and Alicent were a threesome. A group of best friends who loved one another dearly.

⭑ But Alicent chose to betray both of you, by marrying Viserys.

⭑ She hadn’t even told you that was her plans.

⭑ Alicent became very jealous of how close you and Rhaenyra became after that.

⭑ You were the white-haired heir’s solace. A shoulder to cry on. A person she knew she could always go to.

⭑ When everyone is home, there aren’t any visitors and the children are in bed, the four of you will sit in front of the warm fire. Daemon sitting on the couch, a book in his hand. Harwin on the opposite side of the lounge, with Rhaenyra on the floor between his legs. You’re laying directly on the floor, your back to the fire while you watch your partners.

⭑ Daemon usually pats the spot beside him, without looking up from his book.

⭑ Everyone is content.

Theme Song:

‘The Devil & The Daughter’ by Daniel Pemberton

Relationship Tropes:

Touch ANY Of My Partners, And You Die (that goes for all of you, you little fiesty things)

Idiot (Harwin and You) x Loves Their Idiot (Rhaenyra and Daemon)

Murderous Intent (Daemon) x Chill (Rhaenyra) x Chaotic Dumbass (Harwin) x Psycho But Not Insane (You)

Mama Bear (Rhaenyra) x Papa Bear (Harwin) x Wine Uncle (Daemon) x Vodka Aunt (You)

NSFW🔞 minors dni!

⭑ Sex is actually very fun, and no, it isn’t always the four of you every single time.

⭑ Usually, it’s a free for all; no one gets jealous that the other has had sex with someone else because they know that in time it will happen to them

⭑ However, when you all first agreed to be a part of this relationship, the sex was out of this world.

⭑ All four of you were a tangled mess of arms, legs, mouths, and teeth.

⭑ You didn’t know whose fingers were inside of you, but they felt good. And then at one point all of your holes were full, two cocks and slender fingers were inside you. Thrusting and pumping. The feeling was indescribable. Like there wasn’t a part of you missing. You were whole.

⭑ Sometimes you off with partners, while still keeping everyone involved. A good example of this is mirrored spooning; Harwin is behind you, while Daemon is behind Rhaenyra. They thrust into you from behind, with you stare at the opposite person.

⭑ Daemon likes to fuck you while you’re in the air on Caraxes. His cock is buried deep inside you, and he thrusts deeper on while Caraxes’ descends. Gravity pushes you down farther onto him.

⭑ Rhaenyra likes to fuck on the bed, or while bathing. Usually, her fingers find their way inside of you. She’s usually a gentle lover, but on the days that she feels extra needy, she’ll rip your clothes off and pleasure you until she hears you orgasm. Then she keeps going until you plead for a break.

⭑ Harwin likes to fuck you on the training grounds. Especially on the ground. Your dress over your waist, while he thrusts deeper inside you. The dirt embeds itself in your knees.

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veryace-ficrecs · 3 months

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Batman Outsider POV Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Wait... you're backup? by Ceciliedr - Rated T

When her team is captured by Lex Luther, Traci can do little more than cross her fingers for a rescue. When someone does crash the party, it isn't anyone she knows. Traci sincerely hopes the guy in the red helmet is on their side.

library card by mikkal - Rated T

Jason Todd, Red Hood, and the Park Row Public Library (and her librarians).

Finding a New Perspective by njw - Rated T

“I got this, Hood.” Red Robin sounds annoyed as he arcs and twists through the air, kicking one henchman into another and wrenching the gun away from a third while simultaneously retracting his grappling line and then launching it to catch another unwary henchman. Just, how?

“I can see you do,” Red Hood says, and wait. Was his voice always that deep? Is he… Maya squints. Is he staring at Red Robin’s ass?

She blinks, then studies the line of sight more closely. Maybe he’s just checking out Red Robin’s kneecaps, in preparation for shooting at them? That seems more his style. Sexual attraction is kind of confusing and she still doesn’t totally believe Tosh that it’s actually as big a thing as people make it out to be—seriously, do other people really spend that much time thinking about it? Sounds fake but okay.

But no, Red Hood’s helmet is totally pointed at Red Robin’s ass. Huh. That’s new.

Captain Marvel's Adopted? by Len_suilon_mellon - Rated T

When Captain Marvel sends out a distress call, the only League member available is Batman. Bruce comes to his aid, but he finds out that Billy is a 10-year-old homeless orphan with black hair and blue eyes. Obviously, he makes the only logical decision and adopts Billy. Because it's Bruce—who's allergic to revealing life-changing information—the League is left in the dark. This story is written as 5+1 story from the Justice League's POV as they attempt to define the weird relationship between Batman and Captain Marvel. 5 times they didn't realize Batman had adopted Captain Marvel, and the 1 time they did.

The Startling Secret Identity of The Batman by Nokomis - Rated T

Good evening, super-sleuths! Boy, do we have a treat for you today. We’re delving into one of the biggest unsolved mysteries of the modern era. The million-dollar question. The billion-dollar question, if one of these theories holds water. That’s right. We’re gonna risk life, limb and sanity by asking the question… who is The Batman? [In-universe Buzzfeed Unsolved accidentally stumbles on Batman’s secret identity. The Batfam reacts.]

playacting by nex_et_nox - Rated G

“So,” Jim said, “are you one of Wayne’s new kids?” Because only siblings acted that way toward each other, and it seemed like every time Gotham turned around, Bruce Wayne was adopting more kids. It was a reasonable question. “What?” Jay asked. “No, I’m—” He paused. Very slowly, his head tilted as he looked over Jim’s shoulder in the most obvious way he possibly could. Jim Gordon accidentally meets the "newest" member of the Wayne family.

5 times the Justice League catch Bruce acting domestically by TimesBeingWhatTheyAre - Rated G

...and the one time he lets them see it aka 5 times the kids torment Bruce, and the time that he actually arranges a meet-up and minds are blown

the politics of dancing by TheResurrectionist - Not Rated

After months of silence following his mysterious resurrection from the dead, the prodigal Wayne heir shows up at an unlikely meeting. “Where is Mr. Wayne?” Jason crossed his legs, cracking his neck. “He’s not coming.” “I was assured Mr. Wayne would be here.” “Tough. Looks like you’ll have to settle for me, huh?”

I Love My Gay Son(s) by reeby10 - Rated G

But the part that had everyone’s attention was the shirt, a plain white t-shirt with “I LOVE MY GAY SON” emblazoned across the chest in bold, rainbow letters.

Bat Out Of Hell by arguablysomaya - Rated G

Five times the Bats are weird, and one time that weirdness saves the world Or, the Bats are weird, everyone that’s even remotely aware of the superhero game knows this. But, odd as they are, they’re still humans. Which is why it should probably be impossible that they’re such forces of chaos. And when they’re all together? Well, most people are just glad they’re on the good side. And they are. Mostly.

The five times Flash came to Gotham for help and the one time he didn't need to (5+1) by Silver_Athena - Not Rated

Barry needs help solving a murder, he goes to Gotham for help. Though he's looking for Batman he seems to constantly run into new heroes. Why do they all seem connected to Batman? --- “You know where he lives?” “I practically live there myself, why is this so surprising to you? You’ve worked with him for- Oh… oh my God, you guys don’t know!"

A Break in Tradition by incogneat_oh - Not Rated

Gordon had seen something when he caught the canary yellow cape out the corner of his eye– something in the way the kid had moved. So he figures he should ask, “You doing okay up there, son?” AKA: The one where Jim Gordon minds a tiny vigilante until his bigger, scarier partner can collect him.

gotham aviary by pepperfield - Rated G

“I see you have a new addition to the family,” Bella says, smiling at the group pushing their father along toward the plaza stairs. “Yeah, we stole him from his backyard,” Jason tells her brightly.

“average billionaire adopts 1000 children a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average billionaire adopts 0 children per year. Orphans Bruc, who lives in cave & adopts over 1 child each month, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.

what goes around by Goldmonger - Rated G

A civilian accidentally kills the Joker. It’s a confusing time for everybody.

artemis crock coming to the wrong conclusions by impravidus - Rated G

Nightwing has his hands outstretched, his palms opening and closing exaggeratedly. Red Hood shakes his head. “I am not gonna—” “Just one?” Nightwing interjects sweetly. “Please please please?” “You are such an idiot—” “Just ooone. C’mon, Hood. Don’t these arms look so warm and inviting?” “Inviting for a stab, yeah.” Artemis sees Nightwing being his affectionate (or as Red Hood would put it, extremely annoying) self and comes to the wrong conclusions.

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

Go Get Him | Part 2

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 10 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—oral (female receiving), teasing, edging, premature ejaculation (lol), sub!Daryl (ish), idk straight people sex what else do I say, swearing ❧ Word Count: 8.1k

❧ Summary: Daryl hasn't made love to you since your first time together. It's hard to imagine that he doesn't love you, but you fear perhaps you scared him away with your forwardness. That theory is disproven when he arrives at your door, like a lost, lovesick puppy.

❧ A/N: Second part to Go Get Him! Sorry this took so long, I have been busy moving and also doing grad school and trying to find a job and also just generally dealing with my family which is lowkey a pain in the ass but yeah here's the sequel, which is basically just... I mean basically this whole thing is sex. If you enjoy Daryl being a pathetic horny simp then this is for you. Also I was going to actually have them bake a peach pie and then have them like play with the food lmao but that was too much work because I would've had to look up how to make a peach pie and bestie I just wasn't gonna do that. There are still remnants of that tho with the peach thing so there's that.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were a little too in love with him. Well, you always knew you loved him, but in love? Deep, sickeningly potent, noxiously passionate, nearly burdensome, love. Even now, grinning rather foolishly at the bracelet he’d made for you from multicolored twine, you felt your heart flutter in your chest, like the movement of the vibrant ruby-throated hummingbird making its daily rounds at the nectar feeder outside your living room window.

Since that day you told him how you felt, and gotten to know each other much more intimately on the sofa you sat upon now, you hadn’t stopped thinking about him once. It was a week ago now, but it had felt like an eternity—an eternity of wondering what he was up to, holding his hand any chance you could get, asking him if he wanted to come over… And he hadn’t, not since then.

You hadn’t had a private moment with him since that day, and you began to worry now. Maybe it didn’t mean as much to him as you thought it did, but he had said he loved you, and you knew that couldn’t be just a casual statement for Daryl. He was more intentional than that, more careful with his words, which he used rather sparingly. You knew him well enough to know that his word was strong, just like him. He never said anything unless it had meaning.

And he was busy. He was always so damn busy. It was a miracle you had a chance to get him alone in the first place. Still, he hadn’t shied away from you, not like he often did before. The change in your relationship seemed to be forming gradually, despite the abruptness of last week’s midday tryst. You liked it that way, though. You might’ve known Daryl for seven years, but you hadn’t known him this intimately before, so it made sense to take things a little slow after that initial rendezvous, but you had to admit, you thought about it a little too much.

It was hard not to. After all, he might not have been your first sexual experience, far from it, but he was by far the best, not necessarily because of his technique, but because of the feelings that had been growing deep inside of you for so long. He was shy and innocent, and yet somehow sloppy and wild, in his lovemaking, and you liked it. With time, you were sure he’d learn exactly how to please you, and you were sure you’d figure out his needs and desires, too, but that couldn’t be done if Daryl didn’t at least try to find time to make love to you.

All he’d done was peck your lips gently and quickly, hoping no one else would see, and hold your hand with loosely curled fingers, so he could quickly jerk it away if anyone saw. Still, he looked at you in a new way, you could see it in his eyes. They were more relaxed, hazy, almost as if he’d just been lulled into a dream. You didn’t know it, of course, but you were in that dream, and he thought about that day perhaps even more than you did. It consumed him, every waking moment spent wanting to get your hands on him again, wanting to taste even the smallest morsel of the sweetness between your legs, wanting to bury himself in the deepest part of you until your shaking body squeezed around him, drawing him closer and closer to the greatest pleasure he’d ever felt.

And yet he still was afraid to make the wrong move, to touch you when you didn’t want to be touched or to even hurt you if he moved too wildly, as he was prone to do. As much as he wanted to admit otherwise, he was waiting on your beck and call, not being too forward until he knew what to do, and he still knew very little.

It seemed you were at an intimate impasse, a sexual stalemate. You were waiting for Daryl to make the next move, and yet he was too afraid of making the wrong move. Perhaps you’d have to light a fire under his ass—let him know that you belonged to him now, and that he could have you any time, any day. At this rate, you weren’t sure you could go much longer without him knowing that.

Rosita’s weight plopping down beside you stirred you from your thoughts, tearing your eyes from the simple bracelet he’d given you the other day as you prepared to focus on something other than Daryl.

“When did you come in?” you asked, though you knew you were close enough to Rosita to figure she’d let herself in without knocking.

She leaned her elbow on the back of the couch to prop up her tilted head, then let out a huff of air as her other hand rubbed her forehead in exhaustion. “Baby’s got me running on three hours of sleep,” she said. “Left her with Eugene… Needed words of encouragement.”

You smiled in bittersweet understanding, patting her knee as you straightened up to look at her. “You’re doing great,” you said. “Best mom I know. Coco’s a lucky little baby.”

“She’s restless too,” she added. “Don’t ever have a baby if you value your sleep schedule, that’s all I’m saying.”

You scoffed and shook your head with a smile of amusement. “Mm, as if that could even happen.”

Rosita raised an eyebrow as her head perked up from the cradle of her hand. “What about that afternoon delight last week?” You felt her finger teasingly poke your side. “You’re sexually active now.”

“Yeah, well I’m starting to wonder if he really meant what he said.”

Her smile wilted. “What, when he said ‘I love you’? He must’ve meant it, (Y/N). I mean, he made you that bracelet.”

You shrugged as you fiddled with the colorful twine on your opposite wrist. “That doesn’t mean he loves me. If he really loved me he’d spend more alone time with me. I don’t know, maybe I’m too needy. Maybe he needs space…” You looked seriously at Rosita, with slight panic in your eyes. “Do you think I was too forward? Do you think I scared him off? I mean, maybe I was too… dominant. I don’t know, I just…”

She shook her head and sighed. “You did nothing wrong. Besides, he hasn’t been completely avoiding you. He’s just busy, (Y/N). You happened to pick one of the most important guys in Alexandria, so of course he’s going to have a lot of stuff to do… besides you.”

“I know, I know… But what if he didn’t like the sex? Maybe it was too much. What if I overwhelmed him?”

You had spared Rosita the gory details of the sex, but she knew the jist of it, how you had been the more dominant one, and how Daryl was… inexperienced. You also spared Daryl the embarrassment of telling anyone he was a virgin, since he seemed quite ashamed of that fact himself.

“You’re overthinking,” replied Rosita. “He’s probably just being Daryl.”

Being Daryl, you thought. Shy, quiet, aloof, insecure…

“He’ll come around,” she continued. “Let him come to you. Make him show you how much he wants you.”

That appealed to you, the idea of Daryl practically crawling on his knees in desperation for you and your body, upon which you did feel his eyes roaming on more than one occasion since last week.

So you waited a while, a few more days, until Daryl would show up at your door on his own volition. You still found time to tease him like you’d always done, bending over in his direction with a particularly low-cut blouse on, or making prolonged eye contact as you trailed your fingers down his arm. If you hadn't been in public, he might’ve done something.

He might’ve lost all control and lowered to his knees until his face met the junction of your thighs, where an intoxicating warmth was heating his cheeks and drawing him closer to the proverbial pot of dripping golden honey beneath your dress.

He might’ve buried himself between those thighs, allowing all of his senses to be completely engulfed by that center of gravity he’d encountered once before. He could practically feel your fingers lacing firmly through his hair, pulling him closer despite no space existing between his mouth and the fabric draped over your body.

In desperation, he might’ve lapped at nothing, instead tasting that fabric and wettening it with his saliva as he silently begged to lift your dress, himself still a little shy to do such a thing. The longer he waited for your permission, which you purposefully held back, the more fervent he became, nearly sending you stumbling backwards as his nose and mouth buried themselves further between your clothed thighs.

That was all in his head, though, as he lacked the courage to do it.

Until one day, in the late afternoon of a particularly warm spring day, he worked up the courage to climb those steps up to your front door, planning on letting you know that he hadn’t stopped thinking about that day last week, that it consumed every inch of his body and soul. That, and in his hands was a basket of freshly picked peaches. He knew you usually picked them yourself, but he figured the least he could do was do the labor for you.

Surely he could find the courage to kiss you as soon as you opened that door, to be spontaneous and passionate just like you, but when the door did open, he froze, finding himself almost as clueless as he was before.

“Hi, Daryl,” spoke Rosita, holding baby Coco on her hip. All his confidence began to wither away, his plans foiled and his words stuck in his throat. “I was just heading out. I’ll get (Y/N). Come on in.”

She and the cooing baby led him to the kitchen, where he awkwardly sat at the counter as Rosita climbed up the stairs to find you folding your laundry on the surface of your bed. “Who is it?” you asked.

Rosita’s lips quirked in a crooked, slightly devilish smile. “Your gentleman caller.”

You dropped the sock you had been turning inside out. “Daryl?” you gasped in surprise. “He’s here?”

“I told you he’d be back,” she said in a sing-song voice, bouncing Coco with the rhythm of her words. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ve gotta put this one to bed anyway.”

Your eyes darted around for a moment, a million thoughts running through your head as your heart began to race at the idea of spending time alone with Daryl again. A part of you might’ve been slightly annoyed that he’d been avoiding that alone time with you, but maybe he’d just have to prove how sorry he was to you.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“Jesus, you’re already dicknotized.”

With a quick kiss to Coco’s forehead, you sent Rosita back downstairs before you, and as she passed Daryl on her way to the door, she swore she saw a condom poking out of his back pocket, but maybe it was just her imagination.

Soon, you were practically skipping down the stairs, though you made a point to calm yourself before Daryl saw you, in the hopes that you’d appear much more seductive, though it didn’t take much effort, since Daryl was immediately seduced, as he always was.

“Hi, handyman,” you said, voice more husky and lower than usual.

He cleared his throat and quickly stood to his feet, despite not being entirely sure why he did so. Perhaps to give you a standing ovation of sorts, to recognize how perfect you were to him. Surely any unworthy mortal such as himself would need to pay his respect and admiration to a goddess like you.

He must’ve stood too fast, as the headrush that surged through him was enough to send him stepping backwards to catch himself. You’d only ever seen him this nervous last week, which surely must’ve been a good sign.

You couldn’t help but smile at his shakiness, and in an attempt to rid himself of embarrassment, he uttered a halfhearted chuckle under his breath, rubbing his clammy hands up and down his jeans as he stepped forward.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat immediately after. “I, uh… hope I ain’t interruptin’ anything.”

You stepped closer, too, until you were only a foot or so away. Close enough for him to smell that intoxicating perfume, and to feel the heat of your body radiating off his skin.

His eyes roamed unavoidably to your lips, the natural gloss catching the light of the dining room chandelier. As if you knew he was focused on them, you parted your lips to breathe a husky sigh, as your half-lidded eyes wandered to the small patch of chest hairs blooming at the collar of his shirt.

“No, no. You could never interrupt anything. I always have time for you.” You ventured to step closer, taking one hand in yours to raise it to your mouth, eyes glued to his as your lips just grazed the back of his hand. Anything more than that was too much now—if he wanted you, he’d have to either take you himself, or beg for you. “Do you need something, baby?”

He swallowed hard, trying to lubricate his dry throat enough to produce some kind of words that wouldn’t be too gravelly to understand. In the tone of your voice, and in the way you brushed your lips back and forth on his hand, you were sure you were being obvious, but when he spoke, you knew you’d have to try even harder.

“Just wanted to see you,” he said. “Wanted to, uh… I missed you.”

You tilted your head and smiled sweetly. As much as you wanted him, you had to admit that just his innocent sweetness was a gift in and of itself. “I missed you, too. It feels like we haven’t been alone since…” You trailed off with a laugh. “Well, you know.”

He licked his lips and averted his gaze to his feet, in slight shame of his inability to make more time for you. “M’sorry,” he said. “Just been busy, s’all. Plus I… ain’t really used to this whole thing.”

“What whole thing?”

“Ya know… Havin’ my own woman.”

You laughed at his turn of phrase. “You mean, you’re not used to being in a relationship?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he chewed his lip. “That’s what it is, right?”

“Of course,” you replied. “I mean, if that’s what you want it to be. I know it’s what I want it to be.” You stepped closer again, raising your hand to brush his hair back from his eyes. “Your eyes are so pretty.”

He scoffed, and as your hand trailed down his cheek to his jaw, you swore you felt him begin to relax. He must’ve been getting more used to your touch.

“They’re just blue,” he said. “Nothin’ special.”

“They’re a beautiful shade of blue. You should have more confidence in yourself, Daryl. Especially with me. You know I’m yours.”

He cleared his throat and hoped the blush upon his cheeks wasn’t terribly noticeable. “I know. Just… kinda hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it.” You leaned forward to nuzzle your nose against his, tickling him slightly as he let out a quiet, nervous chuckle. “And you’re mine, right?”

He cleared his throat and nodded quickly. “Yeah. I’m yours… Buttercup.”

He cringed internally, not knowing exactly where that sudden burst of confidence came from, but it was quickly matched by your own as your lips slotted firmly between his, your hands clasping tight around the back of his neck. “Daryl,” you sighed against his lips. “You taste so good, baby.”

Your lips moved languidly to his cheek, each kiss more tongue-heavy than the last.

His hands grasped firmly at your lower back, pulling you closer despite his fear of getting too carried away in his desperation. Even so, he felt a burning in the pit of his stomach, an unavoidable hunger rising up to his throat as his tongue tickled your cheek.

“Mmm,” you laughed, burrowing your nose into his soft, silky hair. His lips migrated to your neck, suckling on the skin as your hand guided his to your bottom, where he squeezed on his own volition. “You’re the only man who can touch me like that.”

As your eyes opened in a blurry haze, your eyes were attracted to the basket of bright, crisp peaches on the kitchen counter. “Daryl!”

He panicked as his hands loosened their grip and he pulled back to meet your wide eyes. “What’s wrong? I do somethin’ wrong?”

“No,” you laughed. “You brought me peaches?”

He turned to follow your gaze, fixated on the delicious fruit. “Oh, uh… Yeah, I know how much you love to make that peach pie.” He stepped back, anxiously rubbing the back of his neck with a sweaty palm. He hoped he hadn’t overstepped a boundary, as if offering you a basket of peaches was anymore intimate than what he’d already done. “Thought I’d pick you some. Got the best ones off the tree.”

Your wide grin chased away any worries he might’ve had. “You’re too sweet. Thank you.”

You leaned forward to take a peach in your hand, inspecting it as you bit your lip in admiration of the succulent fruit, its round curves and soft, fuzzy coat so strangely enchanting.

And then an idea came to you.

“Wanna try one?” you asked. “Make sure they’re nice and ripe?”

Unaware of your intentions, he innocently nodded, his lips upturning into a sweet smile. “Sure.”

Washing the skin of the peach, you eyed him from across the kitchen, your hands purposefully caressing the fruit much more sensually than you usually would.

From his viewpoint, it was difficult not to eye the low cut collar of your sundress, and with a more intent gaze as you looked away, he spotted your naked breasts beating against the inside of the lightweight fabric as you scrubbed the dirt from the surface of the peach.

Jesus Christ, he thought to himself. Woman’s got no damn bra on.

“You’ve got an eye for peaches,” your voice interrupted his increasingly lusty thoughts. “Is it because you’re from Georgia?”

When he didn’t answer, you turned to meet his entranced gaze, which was focused on your chest. “Daryl?”

“Uh, yeah. Georgia. Peaches. Real nice peaches.” Fuckin’ Christ.

You gracefully side-stepped around the counter with a bowl now filled with rinsed peaches, as well as a knife to cut them. He tried not to watch too closely, not to pay too much attention to the outline of your curves underneath your dress, but it was hard not to.

“I’ll cut out the pit,” you said, picking up the knife in one hand and a peach in the other. “Keep them for planting more trees.”

With his usual overbearing concern for you, he watched carefully as you began to slice the fruit by its girth, and when the blade of the knife got too close to almost cutting your thumb, he couldn’t stand by and watch any longer.

“Nah, let me,” he said, grabbing the fruit and the knife. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You scoffed with a smile, slightly annoyed by his caring nature, but mostly quite enchanted by it. He was always like that, more so the longer you knew him. If you didn’t need to lift a finger, he wouldn’t let you, and certainly not if that finger posed a risk of getting cut.

“Well, I’ve cut plenty of peaches myself, Daryl.”

“I’m here now,” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the sticky juice beginning to seep around the silver blade penetrating the soft fuzzy surface. “I’ll take care of you.”

If he hadn’t been so absorbed in his work, he might’ve been more bashful about his words, but you certainly weren’t going to let them go unnoticed.

“You’re adorable.”

“Am I?”

“Mhm… Adorable and sweet.”

He popped the pit out of the now halved peach with a huff. “Gotta start gettin’ used to all this flattery.”

“Oh, I’ve been flattering you since the day I met you,” you laughed. “You were just too innocent to notice it.”

He looked up as he handed you your half. “Innocent?” he asked.

“Well,” you sighed, raising your peach to your lips, “you’re not that innocent.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed with a crooked smile, the kind of smile that proved your point quite well. There was innocence in his eyes, but that smile was almost mischievous, like it knew exactly what you meant all on its own. “Eat your peach.”

You almost took a bite, but when he raised the fuzzy fruit to his lips, you felt a tingle surge through you, a reminder of the feeling of his lips kissing a part of you not too dissimilar from the shape of that fruit, with its delicate flesh and its deep, concave center. To see that tongue of his swirl circles as it gathered the succulent juice from the perfect ripe peach might’ve been just the most beautiful sight.

“Wait,” you said, scooting forward on your barstool until your knees touched his. “Why don’t you eat that peach like it’s me?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion at the request, and though he wondered what you meant, one look at the cross section of that peach in the palm of his hand was enough to confirm it.

You leaned forward once again, cradling his hand in yours as you lifted the fruit to his lips. “Like it’s my pussy,” you whispered. “Please?”

The slight beg in your voice awakened something within him, an urge to please you and satiate your needs as best he could.

His tongue slotted gently into the pit, lapping up the juice as his fingers squeezed the fruit from the outside, creating a sinful sound. “Like this?”

“Mhm.”

Discarding your peach, you reached your hand down between your thighs, touching yourself just above your dress. “Good boy,” you said. “I like when you listen to me. Keep going.”

His eyes didn’t leave yours, not that they could. Your stare was much too intense, and much too seductive, to ignore. In truth, this was torture. He’d been thinking about licking you ever since he’d done it a week before, and one taste was enough to render him addicted for life. It was the idea of pleasing you, of hearing your moans and sighs and whimpers of sexual relief as his tongue massaged your most intimate, sensitive part. He would never want to deny you, or himself, of that pleasure. Now, licking and sucking desperately at the flesh of a peach was almost humiliating, as though you knew exactly what he wanted, and yet you withheld it from him by offering a meager substitute. He supposed he brought this upon himself, though, with his shyness preventing him from being alone with you since last week. Maybe this was part of your plan.

With sticky droplets of peach juice dripping down his chin, he finally sunk his teeth into it, allowing more flavor to surround his wiggling tongue. The movements seemed to match those of your fingers, swirling in tight circles over the sensitive nerves tucked under your dress and panties.

“It ain’t like the real thing,” he said. “Let me… I wanna…”

Your hand tore away from your body as you leaned forward to catch his lips, still coated in a thick layer of sweet, peachy goodness. “What do you want, sweetheart?” you asked into his mouth. “Big boys use their words.”

He swallowed hard as he watched you take a bite of his peach, deliberately letting your lips sink around the juicy fruit in the most sinful way. “I wanna lick your pussy,” he said, almost ashamed of his words, but he couldn’t help it—if you asked him to speak, he had to speak. The hold you had over him was insurmountable. “I wanna taste you… Ain’t nothin’ even close to the taste of you.”

You smiled against his cheek, where you pressed slow, languid kisses. The half-eaten peach had dropped from Daryl’s hand in distraction, though neither of you noticed. “Oh,” you laughed. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

The frustrating thing about Daryl was that you knew he could overpower you—he was physically very strong and bulky, with lean, muscular arms that could squeeze your abdomen tighter than a corset. All that, and he was still so delicate with you, so weary of hurting you with his strength and passion that even frightened himself the more he became aware of how much he loved you. He’d never seen himself as a sexual person before, but you’d opened up a whole new part of him that he was both excited and fearful to explore.

When he exerted enough strength to pin you against the counter, lifting you up by your waist as his lips devoured yours, you couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, though he quickly hesitated once again, removing his lips.

“Sorry,” he said, gently rubbing your hips up and down. “Did I hurt you?”

You scoffed, reaching down to strip yourself of your panties. “Get down there,” you said. “Eat me like that peach.”

From his lips erupted a low growl as he hoisted your ankles to his broad shoulders, moving with just a hint of confidence once again as he lowered his head beneath your skirt.

He felt his jeans begin to swell with the pressure from his cock rising, hardening with each quick, desperate lick up and down your slit. His tongue flattened wide, while he groaned in pleasure at the familiar taste he hadn’t been able to get out of his head. He was addicted to it, lapping at your natural juice like it was ice cold water, and he’d been wandering through a desert.

His tongue was only slightly more calculated than last time, focusing more on the little bundle of nerves above your entrance, knowing it was the goldmine.

When he swirled his tongue just right, causing you to clench your thighs around his head, he groaned again, not in annoyance at the feeling of your legs interlocking, but bliss.

“Aw, fuck,” he groaned, voice muffled against you.

You sighed and smiled as you threw your head back, pleasure overtaking you. “You like when I squeeze you with my thighs?”

“Yes…”

“Yes what?” you asked more sternly now, letting up on your entrapment of his head.

He paused for a moment, though his tongue quickly licked at you again in short, frustrated bursts. Still, he missed the feeling of you all around him. “Yes, (Y/N).”

Your hands laced delicately between soft, chocolate colored strands of his lengthy hair. “That’s a good boy,” you cooed, squeezing your thighs tighter than before. With a low whimper, he moved more vigorously on your clit, pursing his lips and licking it as he sucked. “You said you’d take care of me… Take good care of me, Daryl… I want you to take care of me.”

I will, he responded in his head, his mouth much too focused on his task to answer out loud. Take real good care of ya, buttercup.

His hands wrapped tightly around the outside of your thighs, pulling them even closer around his head until he was sure he could barely hear anything with your thighs covering his ears.

“Oh!” you cried out, his tongue flicking wild strokes up and down your most sensitive area. Each movement made you flinch and writhe and whimper from the sensation of little shockwaves coursing through you, building up gradually and becoming stronger and stronger.

You would’ve thought from the way he was moaning and whimpering, too, that you were pleasuring him, but just the act of tasting you was enough for his cock to expand his pants as far as they could go, his engorged tip achingly rubbing against the inside of his scratchy jeans.

You were sure you’d never heard of a man being as turned on during cunnilingus as him. It pleased you, how passionate he was, how he’d probably beg to taste you if he got desperate enough. Something about the way he moved his tongue, lapping you up like you were his first meal after a long fast… That alone could get you off.

As he kept going, never coming up for air and drowning himself in the accumulation of your arousal, you feared he’d pass out from lack of air. “Baby,” you huffed, tugging gently on his hair as you tried to catch your breath. “You can… take a break… if you want to.”

He only grunted in response, the animalistic hunger in that sound sending another vibration through you all on its own. He felt himself nearing his peak, with the adrenaline of fear and excitement and arousal and basic, primal need coursing through him, causing his veins to bulge underneath his suntanned skin.

In an effort to calm himself, he lowered his hand to paw at his bulge, where his cock began to pulse and throb with each angelic sigh from your open mouth. His hand only worsened the situation, the pressure unintentionally driving him to the brink of orgasm.

“Shit,” he groaned, head still tucked between your shaky thighs, with your own orgasm not far.

At this point, you couldn’t even notice his ragged breathing or his body convulsing with each spurt erupting from the tip of his cock to coat the inside of his underwear.

His tongue never ceased its mission, though. He never stopped lapping at the wetness of your folds. When your hands tugged at his hair the hardest they had yet, and your whimpers and moans grew louder, he knew it wouldn’t be much longer until—

“Daryl!” you cried out. “I’m… Oh, you’re going to make me come…”

And you did, waves of intense orgasmic pulses causing you to buck your hips, your clit hitting the tip of his nose and intensifying the feeling even more. “Yes!” you repeated in a hazy state of bliss. “Daryl…”

Your shaking legs dangled loosely on his shoulders, your thighs losing their grip on the sides of his head as they became numb once your orgasm began to fade. He could no longer feel your body twitching, so he raised his head to look you in the eyes, blinking gently as a wide grin split your face.

His expression turned from hungry to shy, and slightly nervous. He looked like a schoolboy who’d just been caught doing something naughty in the boys’ bathroom. It wasn’t too far off—he knew he’d lost control of himself, and he was embarrassed, terrified you’d be disappointed in his lack of ability to keep himself from coming too soon.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you said with a slight giggle to your voice, still trembling a little from that intense feeling. “You did so good.” Your hands returned to his hair, massaging his scalp as your fingers attempted to restore the messy strands you had misplaced to their natural pattern.

With your hands lowering to his cheeks, you pulled him forward until his lips met yours and his body aligned perfectly just above you. The sharp hardness of the kitchen counter below you wasn’t particularly forgiving on your back, but the thrill of it made it worthwhile.

You felt his arm squirm between your bodies, his hand reaching to his crotch to adjust himself again. The discomfort he felt from the accident in his pants was hard to conceal.

Still, you chalked it up to nerves, and you tried to hold him in place above you, but his arms were too strong to be kept still by you. “Daryl,” you huffed. “What are you doing?”

Clearing his throat, he lifted himself from you to step back from the counter, turning around quickly. “Nothin’,” he said. “Just gimme a minute.”

You heard the sound of his jeans unzipping, and the soft rustling of fabric as he tried to clean himself up. Now concerned, you lifted yourself from the counter and lowered your dress to wrap your arms around his waist and slot your forehead between his shoulder blades. He stiffened a bit, then relaxed, remembering he was in safe hands. Quite literally. There wasn’t any other touch he’d feel comfortable with but yours, even when you were just friends. Your touch was soft, dependable, like a promise. Not an empty promise, a promise with intention and devotion.

“Did you—”

“Nah,” he said, even if you hadn’t quite finished your sentence.

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask,” you laughed.

“I didn’t come.”

You scoffed and raised your head to peek over his shoulder. “Well, now I’m curious… It’s okay if you did. Actually, it’s cute.”

“Pfft.”

“Turn around.”

There wasn’t an order you could give that he wouldn’t follow, especially in this state. After a few moments of obligatory silence, he slowly turned to reveal his unzipped and unbuttoned jeans split open, where his black underwear showed a fresh whitish stain.

You tilted your head and smiled. There was something so cute, and sexy, of course, about his inability to control himself, his struggle to keep his arousal at bay, and how much just pleasuring you with his mouth turned him on. How could he come without even being touched? You knew he was sensitive, but this was another level… It was perfect. He was perfect.

“Sorry,” he spoke under his breath, lowering his head as his eyes fluttered to occasionally look back up to you, as if checking to see your disapproval. “Jus’ still gettin’ used to it… and you’re so damn beautiful, especially when…” He trailed off, shaking his head with a self-derisive scoff.

Your shoulders shifted playfully, biting your lip as you rested your hands on his shoulders to gently massage them. They were tense, as usual, with tight knots and hard, lean muscles aching for some comfort. In the back of your mind, you wanted to remove that raggedy black button up shirt and trail kisses along those broad, workworn shoulders, upon which the world seemed to rest. Any man who spent as much time as he did caring for and protecting his community would’ve needed it, but for a man who seems to be so touch-starved, he needed it extra.

“When what?” you asked.

He swallowed, thinking back to the sultry moans that had poured from your watering lips as he pleased you. It was more like the sound of a goddess calling upon her most loyal servant to do her bidding, and if he could take the place of that servant, he’d do it gladly. Everyday of his life.

“When you make those little noises,” he said with a shrug, trying to speak as casually as he could. Siddiq had given him the unsolicited advice to “play it cool,” and he supposed now was the time to put that phrase into action, though he was anything but cool. “Can’t control myself.”

You sighed, trailing your fingers along his collarbone until they found the top button of his shirt, which you slowly undid before gracefully cascading to the next, and the next…

“Do you think you have anymore left in you?” you asked. Now your hunger became insatiable, with your eyes constantly returning to the bulge within his underwear, still wet and visibly a little sticky. “I mean, if you’re not too busy… I know you’re a very important man.”

Within moments, his shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the sheen of sweat on his bare chest. Your fingers tickled the soft, slightly curly hairs of his happy trail, leading to his underwear.

He let out a deep sigh as he felt your hand gently squeeze his bulge, not enough to cause pain, but enough to make him flinch.

“I ain’t…” he said shakily, trailing off as he lost his train of thought. How was he to focus on forming words when your hand was cradling his cock, massaging it tenderly over the soft fabric of his soiled underwear. “Ain’t that important.”

You pouted teasingly, with glimmering doe eyes that betrayed your arousal. “You’re important to me. I love you, Daryl.”

His body relaxed as he registered those three lovely words. For so long he’d wondered what it was like to be loved by someone, and for the first time, he didn’t feel like there was a missing piece in his life, an empty space where that emotion should be. You’d always been special to him, and now that he could allow himself to understand his feelings completely, clarity washed over him like crisp spring rain. In its wake was every little flake of shiny gold stars he swore he saw in your eyes.

Every movement of your fingers as you tugged his jeans and underwear from his waist made him wobble and cling to your shoulders for balance, eliciting a laugh from you. He hadn’t even noticed he failed to respond. “I love ya, too,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe, won’t let anythin’ bad happen to you. I’ll take care of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at his delirious rambling, his agape lips and increasingly ragged breaths proving to be rather adorable.

He only noticed he was now fully naked when he heard the sound of his shirt button hitting the tile floor. “Shit, you don’t waste time,” he laughed nervously, and to prove his point, your lips crashed impatiently, tongue circling wildly in his mouth as he tried to keep up.

“Take care of me,” you panted breathlessly against his lips, between impatient tongues twining around each other like vines. “Upstairs.”

His feet stepped on yours a few times as he tried to maneuver both your bodies up the staircase, hands moving up and down in frantic movements in attempts to rid you of your clothes. Soon you were naked at the top of the stairs, with a few superficial fingernail scratches from where Daryl’s quick, impatient hands had marred your skin.

“Shit,” he huffed against your neck, noticing a red mark from when he lifted your dress above your head. “Sorry... Did that hurt?”

You shook your head as you pulled him up the last steps. With hands cupping both cheeks, you pulled him into your room as you kissed him, until the back of your knees hit the bed, and he fell over you, both of you fully naked against each other. Everything had moved so fast, you didn’t even notice how many marks he left on you. It wasn’t painful, though. In fact, you’d hoped they’d last a while, as a reminder of what you were about to do.

“You’d never hurt me,” you said. You were glued to his gaze, somehow soft and sweet, and hard and wild at the same time. “I feel it in your kiss. I know you love me.”

He lowered his head to nudge his nose against yours, his silky hair falling down to curtain both of your faces. “I know ya love me, too… Dunno how I got so lucky.”

You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “Stop.”

Your lips prevented him from speaking again, and your legs spreading underneath him to wrap around his waist drew his body closer. His hardening cock ached for attention, and as you writhed up and down underneath him, it fit perfectly between your folds, still wet from his saliva and the juice of your arousal.

As if by instinct, he thrusted himself against you, his head buried sheepishly in the crook of your neck, mouth suckled to your skin where he’d no doubt leave another mark of his affection. For the first time, he was on top of you, a new position which gave him control, to some extent. He froze for a moment as he contemplated his next move. How was he to know what to do in this situation? He’d only had sex with you once, and now he was here.

“Daryl,” you muttered against his hair. “Just fuck me… Take care of me.” Your hand reached between your bodies to feel his cock. “Put this cock inside me.”

“Shit!” he suddenly exclaimed.

Your eyes widened in shock as he lifted himself up. “What’s wrong?”

“Condom,” he said shortly, and the last thing you saw was his tight, pale little ass scurrying out the door to pick up his discarded jeans from the kitchen floor downstairs, where the condom he’d tried to carry so discreetly was held in his back pocket.

You threw your head back and laughed, hearing Daryl’s cursing under his breath and his loud, hurried footsteps echoing through the house. He came back with the condom halfway on his cock, his hand still adjusting it until it fit just right.

“Got it.”

“Mm, baby,” you laughed, laying back down to sprawl out your arms and legs, your eyes hazy and your smile soft and warm. You writhed on the bed playfully, cupping your breasts with your hands and squeezing gently to tease his hungry, begging eyes. A part of him seemed to want to pounce on you, but another wanted to ask you permission. “Come over here and give me everything you’ve got, handyman.”

You watched in delight at the blush forming on his cheeks as he slowly but surely made his way over to you, kneeling on the edge of the bed to lower himself just above your body, where he positioned his cock to your entrance. Your hands gravitated to his shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly.

His chest heaved with deep nervous breath after deep nervous breath. You kept your eyes locked to his cock, watching it slowly spread you open. In the shallow end, it came in at a perfect angle, tickling a special spot to make you shiver in delight. “Mmm,” you hummed. “Good boy.”

He scoffed under his breath. “Shut up.”

He inched deeper inside of you, wasting no time in going as deep as he could. There was a desperation to his movements, a deep, unavoidable need, and yet a hesitation, always lingering close behind. “This okay?” he asked under his breath. “This feel good?”

You leaned forward to tug on his strong, broad shoulders, the defined muscles flexing under his sweaty skin. His chest pressed to yours, your nipples aligning with his to tickle each other delicately. “So good,” you sighed into his lips. “I love you.”

His hips began to move on their own accord, slowly but surely moving to and fro to the rhythm of your heartbeat, the warmth between your bodies getting stronger and stronger. “I love you,” he replied.

With your arms tangled tightly around his back, he thrusted harder, in shorter, sloppier bursts. “Ah, fuck…” he groaned against your neck. You squeezed around his cock, the walls of that soft, warm passageway massaging him with each movement he made. It was suffocating in the most beautiful way, being completely overwhelmed and consumed by you and your body. Even underneath him, you still commanded him, your body forcing him to move with yours and guiding him to his pleasure, which only spurred on your pleasure.

Your heels burrowing into the dimples of his lower back, you demanded he move more. In his position, the angle of his tip would just perfectly hit you in a sensational spot. “Daryl…” you panted. “Yes, right there, baby. You feel so good.”

He only gasped for air and groaned hoarsely under his breath in response, until his words returned to him. “I can’t… stop. Shit, (Y/N)... I’m gonna come.”

You huffed and loosened your legs’ grip around him, then pressed your hands to his chest to push him away until he pulled out of you. Much to his confusion, his body turned to obedient jelly as you maneuvered him until he lay pathetically panting and wiggling out of frustration and need to be inside you again. Not even his hand desperately tugging at his cock, wetted and dripping with your natural lubricant, could ease the pain of pleasure.

“(Y/N)...” he practically whimpered under his breath. It was still as gruff and deep as his normal voice, but coated with a more high pitched, almost whiney layer. You watched one hand grip tightly around his aching testicles, the other massaging the reddened, leaking tip of his cock. He was right on the edge, and yet the feeling of his hands alone couldn’t release him. “Need ya… Please. I’m beggin’ for ya.”

Even his dark, pleading eyes begged for you. As much as you liked him in this state, on the edge of orgasm and needing only you to get him there, you also would love to see him come again, sooner rather than later.

With your legs wide, you straddled his waist to meet his tip to your entrance, where your hand guided his cock, but not without thumbing at the tip teasingly, and rubbing it on your clit to please yourself with it. “Mm,” you hummed. He could only groan in response, leaning his head back as you could’ve sworn his eyes rolled back slightly. His hands grasped at your waist, trying to get himself inside of you. “You’re so cute when you’re horny,” you laughed. You let his tip enter you for a moment only to lift yourself up slightly until it slipped out, causing him to whine under his breath. “Do you like it when I tease you?”

He scoffed and looked up at you with hazy, half-closed eyes. “Woman… This is torture.”

You rolled your eyes at his hyperbole, as surely this was nothing compared to what some other, kinkier people liked to do in the bedroom. But, you supposed, you did like to torture him, if this was what he considered torture.

“But do you like it?” you laughed, stroking his chest up and down as you lowered yourself once again onto his cock—terribly slowly, of course.

He hissed as he watched your body envelop him again, and felt the tingle returning to his shaft as you started to circle your hips and massage him with your squeezing walls.

“I… Fuck, I…” He threw his head back with a deep sigh and a delirious laugh trailing not far behind. “God, this is good… Ah, shit, how can ya feel this good, buttercup…”

You shrugged your shoulders as you moved faster, grinding in tighter, harder movements, with your hands planted firmly on his pecs, playfully twirling the slightly curly light brown hairs with your fingers. “Maybe my body was meant for yours.”

He reached up to pull you down. This time, he commanded you to kiss him, to slip your tongue in his mouth as he forced his into yours, with that sloppy, inexperienced kiss of his. With his hands tangling into your messy hair, he thrusted harder into you from below you, until his lips separated from yours to expel a loud, strained moan from the pit of his stomach. “Fuck!” he cried out.

His cock pumped his spend into the reservoir of the condom, and for a while there you were sure he wouldn’t ever stop, but he did, and the moans subsided as he caught his breath and held you close, his arms almost suffocatingly tight around your back.

For a while, you didn’t need words, just the feeling of your bodies interlaced in each other, him still inside you and making himself quite comfortable there, was enough. His chest made a wonderful pillow, despite how strong and hard it was. Somehow, it became soft for you. His body didn’t strain or flex with nerves. It simply mellowed, cushioning you. He was almost softer than the surface of your bed underneath him.

“I ain’t ever met a woman like you,” he said, finally breaking the silence. You lifted your head to look at him, wondering what he meant by that, and if it were a good thing.

“Like me?” you asked. “What am I like?”

“Real sweet,” he said, eyes closed and his voice slurring a little as sleep threatened to take him over. “But… real demanding.”

You scoffed. “Demanding?”

He opened his eyes as he became more alert. “Ain’t a bad thing. You know what you want, and you go after it, and ya get it.”

“Oh,” you laughed, snuggling back into his chest. “So I’m… strong willed?”

“Yeah,” he nodded sleepily. “I like it.”

“It’s not… scary?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Woman, you scare the hell outta me.”

“Oh,” you said, slightly worried now. “Sorry, baby.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he replied. “Told ya, I like it. I can handle ya.”

You always knew he could.

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