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strangemagicc · 1 month

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Nobody Has To Know | Chapter One

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pairings: modern!brother’s best friend!Eddie x fem!Reader

summary: a drunken night, a secret kiss. your boyfriend making out with your childhood best friend.

author’s note: surprise, chapter one is here! 🎉queue video of Paul Rudd’s Hot Ones interview (who would’ve thought? not me!)

this was such a welcome distraction from the chaos that currently is my life. I enjoyed writing this so much and just love the idea of sneaking around with Eddie (I mean, who doesn’t?) . I hope you like this first chapter - comments & reblogs are always so appreciated 🖤

w/c: 5.8k

warnings: cheating (technically not reader or Eddie), mentions of underage drinking and drug usage, a brief description of a semi-boner, mention of unwanted groping, lots of angst and hurt in this chapter

As always:

The Cunningham home was packed with bodies, familiar faces, and those you didn’t know. You stood near the front door fiddling with the zipper on your purse as you scanned the room searching for a familiar face.

Party lights bounced off a disco ball that hung haphazardly from a chandelier sending a kaleidoscope of blues and purples dancing across the foyer.

The loud music hummed in the walls, vibrating when the bass dropped. You bobbed your head to it mindlessly, without rhythm, feeling uncomfortable in the swarm of bodies around you. The foyer was crowded with partygoers, some locked in an embrace and others pushing their way up the stairs to the rooms that lined the hallway for some privacy.

Your teeth dug into your lower lip, eyebrows marrying in the middle as you searched above the sea of bodies. You were supposed to meet your best friend, Rachel, outside nearly an hour ago but your shift at Hawk Theater had dragged on and now you didn’t know where to find her or your boyfriend for that matter.

That’s when you spotted them.

It felt like ice had filled your veins as you watched the way the familiar form of your boyfriend’s lips pushed against your best friend’s. Their mouths a frenzied dance, their eyes squished close. Her hands in his hair, his palms tracing down her exposed skin. You couldn’t move, disbelief keeping you anchored in place and watching the two of them as the rest of the world fell silent. Loud music muffled and voices drowned out by the hammering of your heart against your ribcage.

A shoulder bumped yours causing your purse to fall as a partygoer rushed through the door to where their friends were gathered.

“Fuck,” You blinked rapidly and bent down to grab the black leather, eyes darting around at people’s shoes as you tried to regain your surroundings.

When you stood, you watched as Simon whispered in Rachel’s ear. She let out a small laugh in response to whatever he said before nodding. You began to push your way through the crowd but bodies pushed back and you watched as Simon led Rachel up the stairs through a throng of people. Her hand clasped in his, megawatt smile on display and you wondered if this was the first time he had led her to a secluded room. Wondered how many stolen glances or hints you had missed.

You stopped pushing your way through and ignored the shouting in your head telling you to move, move, move.

What would you do?

What would you say?

Did it matter?

Shoulders pushed into yours as you stood still wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

You held in the tears threatening to spill, allowing the hurt to settle into your stomach and create a dull ache.

People shoved past you and you let your body be moved by the crowd as your eyes danced around the house.

For the first time, you noticed the smiling faces and chiseled jaws you’d ignored the past four years.

Squaring your shoulders, you pushed back against the bodies creating a path to the kitchen. Empty bottles and cans littered the counters. White granite stickied with beer and liquor.

You grabbed a plastic cup and waited for your turn at the keg. Jason Carver manned the pump and eyed you as you approached, handing him your empty plastic cup.

“Well, if it isn’t Rick’s little sister,” he started, a fake smile plastered wide on his face. You gave him a sarcastic grin and grabbed for your beer as he topped it off. None too keen on being called, let alone known as, Reefer Rick’s little sister.

Jason pulled away, holding your beer just out of reach.

“Your brother was supposed to have someone here supplying the party favors, what gives?”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled. Hawkins’ Golden Boy was always itching for his next fix.

“I’m sure one of his little lackeys is crawling around here somewhere.” You held your arms up gesturing around you before reaching back up for your drink. He held it away from you again and your shoulders sagged, annoyance building.

“Come on, Carver. Give the lady her drink,” Another boy grabbed the cup, handing it to you with a soft smile.

He was cute in an obvious way, skin glowing with a fading summer tan that highlighted the blue of his eyes.

“Thanks,” you responded with a small grin, your hand grazing his as you grabbed for your drink.

“Any time.” His eyes held yours, his hand still outstretched and warm beneath your touch.

A perfect distraction.

Eddie sank into the worn-down couch cushions with a heavy sigh, his legs spread wide so no one would sit too close. Not that they would dare to anyway.

He sat with a view of the foyer and kitchen, both areas crowded with people in various stages of inebriation.

Unfamiliar faces were cast in a rainbow of colors by the party lights illuminating various parts of the house. His eyes darted from one room to another.

Empty bottles of hard liquor were toppled against the kitchen counter, plastic cups littered the room near the two kegs that sat in the middle of the tiled floor sticky with spilled beer and marred by dirty footprints.

It was a familiar scene, one that played out the same way nearly every weekend since Eddie could remember.

But now his nerves were withering away, disappearing into nothingness as the minutes ticked by. Bored out of his mind.

Another generic pop song blasted through the speakers, another once jock tried to negotiate the price of Eddie’s already cheap supply.

His jaw was set and if he didn’t need the money so fucking bad he wouldn’t be here. At another house party for has-beens and once popular teens inching towards full-blown adulthood. No longer barely legal, a year closer to buying beer without sneaking it past an unsuspecting convenience store clerk.

He chugged his beer, streams of amber liquid pouring out on either side of his mouth as he drank harshly. Sloppily. Until the lukewarm liquid was gone and he was staring down into an empty plastic cup. Eddie threw his head against the cushions debating whether another cup of cheap beer was worth giving up his spot on the couch.

And then you caught his eye. Your back pressed to a guy he’d never seen you with.

His brow quirked up curiously as he watched you. The way the hem of your dress inched up with the movement of your hips, the way your eyes were closed as you swayed to the rhythm of the music and took a swig of whatever filled your plastic cup.

Didn’t you have a boyfriend?

He was surprised to see you here. Somewhere seemingly not your scene surrounded by people he knew you didn’t like.

In truth, Eddie knew very little about you these days. Your interactions had been limited since the two of you worked side by side at the theater. A job he was fired from when the manager caught him making deals on the clock and company property. Since then he only caught glimpses of you when he came by your house to see your brother. A passing hello or a quick goodbye. Never anything like those days spent conversing by the cinema dumpsters while being scorched by the summer sun.

You turned around and whispered something in the guy’s ear and pointed to your cup before weaving through the crowd.

Your back was to Eddie, hands reaching towards bottle after bottle, shaking them to check their contents. All coming up empty.

He chuckled when you spotted the giant cooler filled with Chrissy’s concoction of jungle juice; a mix of pineapple malibu, cherry moonshine, and fruit punch.

Eddie pushed himself off his spot on the couch and moved through the crowd towards you. Approaching just as you filled the cup to the brim and brought it towards your waiting lips. He pulled the red plastic from your hands and gave you a chastising grin.

“Don’t think so, little Lipton,” he took a swig and raised his eyebrows as the sweetness hit his tongue.

You gave him an annoyed glare and reached for your drink just as he pulled it out of your nearing grasp with an amused grin.

“I’m sorry, Munson, since when did you become an advocate against public displays of intoxication?” You reached up and snatched your cup back from his hand, looking at him with a questioning arch of your eyebrow.

He noticed the way your words were somewhat slurred, your cheeks a shade darker from the alcohol you’d already consumed.

“See you got a new boyfriend,” Eddie stated jutting his chin in the direction of your dance partner and ignoring the insinuation of your words. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at you with an amused gleam in his eye as he waited for your explanation.

“That guy?” You turned to the cute brunette who was waiting for you to return before looking back at Eddie.

“I just met him like two seconds ago,” you hiccuped and let out a small laugh as Eddie looked back to the brunette who was eyeing him wearily.

“What happened to Simon?”

“He’s probably still upstairs fucking Rachel,” you waved him off and shrugged before taking another sip of your drink.

“What?” Eddie couldn’t have heard you right. Simon had been your boyfriend since the summer you turned sixteen, having met him while working at Hawk Theater alongside Eddie.

“Look, Munson, is there a point to this line of questioning?”

Your buzzed mind was starting to become less cloudy, the feelings you’d been pushing down threatening to come to the surface, and all you wanted to be was distracted.

“Your brother wouldn’t be too happy if I let you get drunk at some house party,” he sighed, changing the subject.

“Well isn’t it a good thing that he isn’t here and you can just pretend you didn’t see me?” You smiled over your cup before chugging some of the drink.

The sugary sweetness of the fruit punch nearly overpowered the taste of the strong liquor mixed with it but still, it burned as it went down. Eddie shook his head, his tongue jutting into his cheek to fight the wide grin that threatened to spread at your words.

“I wouldn’t chug that if I were you,” he warned and you rolled your eyes, removing the plastic from your lips with a scowl pointed in his direction.

“Since when are you such a party pooper?” You poked at his chest with your free hand.

“Plus I’ve already had a beer or two.” You held up one too many fingers to him as you pressed the cup to your lips and swallowed harshly.

“Come on, (Y/N), this isn’t like you,” he frowned at you.

“How would you know, Eddie?” You said his name like it was a curse word as you looked at him through hooded eyes.

He opened his mouth to respond when a passerby pushed against him to get through the crowd causing his frame to lurch into yours. A small splash of your drink soaked through your sweater and you pushed back against his torso instinctively, his chest hard against the palm of your hand.

“Shit, sorry,” his warm breath fanned your face. A hint of spearmint mixed with the scent of cigarettes caught your nose as you inhaled sharply, caught off guard by the sudden contact of his hand against your hip steadying himself from the sway of the crowd.

You gazed up at him, your hand still on his chest, into his wide brown eyes. His cheeks were colored pink as his hand darted away from you.

“Sorry,” he whispered again and you gave him a sardonic smile, enjoying the way he squirmed by being this close to you. Too close.

“Maybe we should get you home to change,” he pointed to your stained sweater and you shrugged as you placed your drink on the counter.

“Trying to get me alone, Munson?” You teased and maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the way you wished his nervous energy was because you affected him the same way he had always affected you.

You pulled at the hem of the green pullover revealing the tight black lace dress you wore underneath. Eddie’s gaze dropped instinctively, eyeing how the material hugged your curves. You grabbed his wrist and dropped the sweater into his open palm.

“Hold onto that for me,” you picked your cup back up from the counter.

“And don’t worry, Rick doesn’t have to know,” you gave him a small wink before turning away from him and pushing back through the crowd.

Eddie stared at you, his mouth agape as you disappeared back into the sea of people and picked up where you left off with your dance partner. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. The guy whose name you didn’t even know.

Eddie glanced back down at your sweater in his outstretched hand and shook his head unsure of exactly what had gotten into you.

He grabbed another cup of beer and leaned against a wooden beam near the living room, his eyes always finding you when he looked around the room. Eddie made a few deals and sold most of his supply, a few hundred dollars closer to his goal of finally leaving Hawkins behind.

Eddie looked up and watched as stranger boy’s hands drifted down your hips and dug into your thighs. You pushed his hands back up to your waist, your head swaying to the music as the two of you continued to dance.

But stranger boy’s hands crept down your hip once again, inching lower and lower until they glided past the hem of your dress. You stilled and turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck. His chest flush with yours, blue eyes boring into you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. A flirty smile on his lips.

“Able to keep your hands to yourself, pretty boy?” Although you wanted a distraction, you still had reservations. Boundaries you didn’t want to cross. Not when your still boyfriend was upstairs.

“What’s the fun in that,” He whispered into your ear, palms sliding down and cupping your ass. Your smile fell and you pushed at his chest putting space between you.

“Knock it off,” your voice came out louder, barely heard above the music. Eddie tensed and pushed off the wooden beam he’d been leaning on. Your date looked uneasily around the crowd and back at you.

“Don’t be such a tease, you’ve been grinding on my dick for most of the night.” You scoffed at him and shook your head.

Eddie began to walk towards you pushing past the crowd that had turned its attention towards you.

“I was dancing,” you corrected just as Eddie approached. His lean frame towered next to you, eyes set on the guy whose name you now didn’t care to know.

“We got a problem here?” Eddie questioned.

“Should’ve expected your brother’s dealer to be your little lap dog,” the brunette laughed, cocky. Annoyance thrummed through your veins and you began to step toward him but Eddie grabbed your arm, his warm palm pressed against your exposed skin.

“He’s not even worth it,” Eddie whispered and pulled you back, “let’s go.” You nodded at his words and turned to leave with him, emotional exhaustion now weighing heavy on your shoulders.

Eddie followed behind you, ignoring the way the sea of heads watched him like he was some carnival freak on display.

“Stupid slut,” the brunette muttered as he turned towards his friends and Eddie stopped in his tracks, a dark grin coloring his features.

“On second thought.” He turned and took a wide step, swinging without hesitation. His clenched fist connected with the guy’s jaw sending him stumbling back and falling to the ground. Eddie stood over him, chest rising and falling rapidly. Ready for a fight. The guy groaned on the ground, holding his jaw where Eddie’s fist had already left a mark. You stood stunned into silence, the whispers of the crowd breaking you from your reverie.

“Eddie, we should go,” you grabbed onto his hand and pulled as the crowd’s murmurs began to grow louder. A bigger fight could cause the police to be called and Eddie didn’t need a bigger record.

He didn’t budge, gaze still fixed on the guy writhing in pain on the floor.

“Let’s go,” you urged and pulled on his hand hard, this time he followed. You led him through the crowd and out the front door, ignoring the dozens of eyes that watched you leave.

His palm was still pressed to yours when you reached the sidewalk, the night breeze cold against your exposed skin sobering you. You stopped and dropped Eddie’s hand as you looked up to him.

“What the fuck was that?” You pointed towards the house now in the distance with an outstretched hand before crossing your arms over your chest. The moon illuminated Eddie in a hazy white glow, the street lamps dim on the other side of the street.

“Me protecting you?” He questioned, his eyebrows creasing as he took in your sour expression.

“You didn’t need to do that!” Your voice rose.

“That guy had his greasy hands all over you and called you a slut but you’re mad at me?” His tone was filled with incredulity, eyes wide and shocked.

“No, I just-,” you sighed and pressed your fingers against the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes as you tried to put into words how you felt.

Hurt?

Confused?

Angry?

Like a fucking idiot for dancing with some loser at a house party you didn’t even want to be at in the first place.

“Thank you,” you sighed and looked up at him. It was better than an explanation of your misplaced anger.

“I mean it,” you grabbed onto his hand so he knew that you meant it. He looked to your connected hands and back at you.

“Any time, Spielberg,” he gave you a cocky smile and you dropped his hand, watching as he walked past you to his van.

“We agreed you’d never call me that again,” you said through gritted teeth, following behind him. Eddie turned and began to walk backward, keyring twirling on his finger.

“No, you asked me to stop. I never agreed to it.” He stopped in front of his black van and opened the passenger door.

“Your chariot awaits,” he stepped aside so you could climb in, presenting the passenger seat as though it were a grand prize.

“I can walk, Eds,” you chuckled and began to walk past him. You figured the night air would do you good. Eddie yanked you by your shoulder reeling you back towards him.

“Get in the fucking car,” he pushed you towards the seat and waited until you were situated before closing the door. He ran around the front of the vehicle and quickly climbed into the driver’s seat.

As Eddie started the car you noticed his bloody knuckles. Guilt reared its ugly head and you grimaced at the sight of his already bruising flesh. As he waited for the car to warm up, you rummaged through your bag looking for the travel-sized first aid kit you kept buried at the bottom, and quietly rejoiced when you found it.

Without asking you reached for his hand and settled it into your lap. When he tried pulling away you squeezed his wrist to hold him into place.

“What are you doing?” He questioned, glancing between you and his split knuckles.

“What does it look like?” You gave him a teasing look and grabbed an alcohol wipe, tearing open the package before blotting the pad gently against his skin.

Eddie winced and you looked at him with a silent apology before blowing on his knuckles to help them dry.

His gaze traced the curve of your nose down to the plush of your lips, swallowing hard as his eyes lingered. A little hypnotized, just as you’d always had him. You placed a bandaid on each cut and patted his hand softly breaking Eddie from his trance.

“All better,” you stated and glanced up at him with a satisfied grin.

He pulled his hand away and cleared his throat, refocusing his attention on the road ahead as he pulled away from the curb. Eddie eyed his bandaged hand resting on the steering wheel as he drove.

Of course, you’d have Hello Kitty bandaids.

He shook his head but couldn’t fight the way his grin grew wide and took over his features.

The two of you drove towards your house in silence, Soundgarden playing low on the radio.

Houses passed in a dark blur, the clouds covering any light the moon had offered. It had been years since the two of you had been alone for more than a passing moment. Not since those days spent at work where Eddie got to know you as more than his best friend’s little sister.

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, conflicted by to say or if you should say anything. It didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie who began to glance between you and the road, measuring his words just as cautiously.

“Sorry about your-“

“Do you think-“

The both of you began speaking at once and you chuckled awkwardly as you looked towards him. He nodded at you to go ahead, giving you the floor to speak.

“Do you think we could go somewhere? It could be anywhere, I just really don’t want to go home right now,” you shrugged, continuing to play with the material of your dress.

The two of you were already close to your home, the trees becoming more dense as you approached but he nodded. He turned his van down a different path, the trees opening as you approached the Lake.

The light of the moon and stars glittered off the calm waters, peaceful. Serene. A different scene from the events of the night. He parked near the edge of the trees and killed the lights, taking off his seatbelt before looking at you. Nervous energy hummed in his chest and was evident in the way he bounced his leg absently.

“This good?”

You gave him a weak smile and nodded. The guilt had spread and made a home of your chest. Eddie got hurt because of you. Lost out on sales defending you.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you began, your eyes focused on the darkness of the lake.

Eddie watched you, the way your teeth chewed at your bottom lip. Your anxious energy palpable.

“I’m sorry you had to get mixed up in my mess,” you looked at him now and Eddie shook his head.

“Like I was going to let Chris Grandy call you a stupid slut,” he rolled his eyes.

You giggled to yourself. So that was the douchebag’s name.

“It really doesn’t matter,” you shrugged. “Probably was acting like one.”

You’d only ever had one serious boyfriend in your life and he’d spent the night upstairs with your childhood best friend. There was a lot you didn’t know about dating or the rules of flirting. What gave guys the wrong idea or made them think you wanted something more and you kept playing it over in your head wondering what you could’ve done differently.

Eddie’s leg stopped bouncing as he watched you and the anger built up in his chest. He wasn’t mad at you, he was so fucking pissed off that the slime ball made you feel like this. Made you feel guilty for enjoying yourself or question whether you did anything wrong.

“You were having fun,” he started, “and regardless of how you danced or what you said, when you told him to stop he should’ve stopped. Nothing you did or said justifies him being a fucking creep.”

He was seething, you could tell from the way his chest rose and fell. From the way his jaw was clenched, the moonlight illuminating his features.

Munson had always been handsome, cute in a not-so-conventional way. It was the way his curly hair framed his high cheekbones and the plush of his lips. The way his big brown eyes were always animated when he talked about something he liked.

The first time you noticed it, noticed him, was when you were thirteen. You spent that summer blubbering in his presence, finding any excuse to talk to him or go into your brother’s room. The crush never really went away, always lingered in the back of your mind and now in the way your heart thrummed as his gaze was fixed on you. A silent plea begging you to understand what he told you.

It was like a magnetic pull the way you leaned closer to him, eyes trained on his as you inched closer.

“You don’t think there’s anything wrong with me having fun?” You questioned with innocent eyes and looked up at him through your lashes, your face closer to his.

“Why would there be?” He swallowed, his gaze flicking from yours to the pout of your lips.

Eddie was losing the little bit of composure he’d been able to maintain all these years. The warnings your brother had given sounded off like alarms in his head.

“Also, I’m the one who needs to apologize,” he grimaced and began to play with the rings on his fingers, changing the subject. Trying to distract himself from the way the scent of your perfume had him a little disjointed.

“For what?” You pursed your lips, perplexed.

“I’m, uh, pretty sure I left your sweater back there at the party. Nearly one hundred percent positive,” he looked at you with a sideways grimace, already shrinking away as he anticipated your reaction but you only laughed.

“I ruined it with Chrissy’s weird concoction anyway,” you dropped your face into your hand, your body shaking with laughter.

“I still can’t believe you drank that shit,” he laughed with you, “it had me on my ass a few years ago at her Fourth of July party.”

“No way,” your laugh grew louder as you absently held onto his arm, encouraging him to divulge.

“In my defense, those sugary drinks are the ones that get you,” his body shook with his building laughter.

“Could barely taste the moonshine she puts in it so I had a few cups,” he shook his head, “I fell asleep in one of those loungers by the pool and the next thing I remembered was waking up in some random room laughing to myself with the worst sunburn of my life.”

You winced at the picture he painted, imagining his pale skin marred by the sun.

“So that’s why you took my cup,” realization dawned upon you.

“Just trying to save you, little Lipton,” he agreed and you groaned.

“I wish people would stop calling me that. I’m not just Rick’s sister you know?” Your shoulders sagged. It had always been like that.

People, boys, avoiding you because of who your brother was. Ghosting you once they found out your last name, his reputation preceding you. Until Simon.

“I know you’re not,” he assured you earnestly.

“You’re definitely just saying that,” you rolled your eyes.

“Since when have I told you something just because it’s what you want to hear, Spielberg?” He emphasized the nickname you hated to prove his point.

You leaned over the middle console and jabbed at his ribs with your finger causing him to jump and grab at your hand.

“This is the thanks I get for saving your life,” he dramatized and grabbed your other hand as he dodged its attack.

He held onto your hands, your laughter mixing with his, and stared up into his eyes.

You could say it was the alcohol still clouding your mind for what you did next, could say it was because you still needed the distraction you sought at the beginning of the night.

Eddie smelled like apple and bergamot, a hint of weed and tobacco. He swallowed hard as you leaned closer. He felt the warmth of your breath against his face and watched as your eyes fluttered close.

He hesitated for a moment before closing the rest of the space. Heart beating faster than it had that night.

Your breath hitched with the first contact of his lips. They were smooth, almost pillowy against your own, as they matched the pace you set. He released your hands and you twined them in his curls, soft like you’d always imagined.

Eddie’s hands fell into his lap and clenched into fists as the kiss deepened, your tongue parting the seam of his mouth. He opened and slowly met yours with the tip of his own.

You tasted like cherry chapstick and fruit punch, sweet like he always thought you would be and it was getting so hard not to touch you.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, spreading to your veins in a low hum and you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him flush against you. His hands left his lap and wrapped around your waist, fingers digging into your flesh.

He pulled you across the middle console into his lap and you moved without hesitation, your mouth still pressed to his.

There was an unspoken need shared in the way your mouths meshed, in the way he swallowed your sighs and you elicited his groans. It felt like you were floating, head buzzing from a different kind of inebriation.

You wanted more, you needed more but the bright lights of a passing car broke you two apart.

Eddie stilled beneath you and pulled away from your still-pursed lips.

“Shit,” he whispered and closed his eyes as he hit his head against the headrest.

You bit into your lower lip and played with the material of his black t-shirt, looking at him curiously. Confusion evident on your brow.

“What’s wrong?” He shook his head, eyes still closed as his fingers traced absent lines back and forth over your naked thighs.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he shook his head and you stilled.

“We shouldn’t be or you don’t want to be?” You felt as though he was making an excuse, trying to let you down easily instead of telling you that he regretted kissing you.

“Shouldn’t be,” he lifted his head and finally opened his eyes.

He brought his hand to your face and held you, tracing an absent thumb over your cheekbone.

“Who says we shouldn’t be?” You leaned into his touch and rubbed your hands over his chest, enjoying the way his heart thrummed against your palms.

Eddie had trouble concentrating, distracted with you pressed against the evidence of his budding arousal.

Even in the silence you both knew the answer to his question, the boundary that had always been there. Invisible but palpable.

You’d always been warned by your older brother about the bad boys. The ones with the long hair, tattooed arms, and played in a band. Especially the one that is his best friend.

“You know who,” he finally responded, hands gripping your thighs as you shifted in his lap and you smirked. Enjoying the way Eddie Munson looked a little dazed beneath you.

“Nobody has to know if you don’t want them to,” you muttered as you leaned closer, your breath fanning his face. Lips enticing him and he swallowed hard. Resolve wavering under the intensity of his want.

He closed the little space that remained between the two of you, lips not as gentle as before when they pressed against yours. His kisses were hungry. Needier than before.

It felt like he was kissing you like he’d always wanted to, but you didn’t dare hope for that type of reciprocation. Satisfied to have him bucking into your clothed pussy, moans escaping his lips as he held you against him and ground your hips over his boner.

You moaned as he peppered kisses down your jaw and across your neck, nibbling against the sensitive flesh of your throat.

Leaving his marks where everyone could see.

Where Simon could see.

You stilled for a moment but a moment was all Eddie needed to stop, to regain clarity. To push you off his lap with a heavy sigh, a quick rise and fall of his chest. You sank into the passenger and stared at him, your breaths matching his.

“We need to stop,” he shook his head and took a deep breath, running his sweaty palms over his pants. You only nodded, your voice lost as your thoughts collided with each other. Confusion etched into your forehead.

Eddie adjusted his jeans and looked over his shoulder before reversing his car. He needed to get you home before his resolve completely dissipated. Before you did something with him that you might regret like the others.

You fell into silence, eyes trained on the passing trees that were barely visible under the pale moonlight. Embarrassment clung to you, sticky and suffocating. Rejection mingling with the hurt that was beginning to resurface.

The short drive to your house was quiet and you didn’t turn to say thank you as you hopped out of his van.

You clamored through your door, the quiet of your empty house greeting you.

Eddie watched as you slipped into the darkness of your home, and a wave of guilt settled over him as he remembered your brother’s words. As the image of your confused face resurfaced behind his closed eyes. He thumped his head against the steering wheel and groaned loudly.

“Fuck!”

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484 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 9 months

Note

Jackson Rippner- he DOES fuck you in the bathroom on the plane. Instead of Rachel McAdams, it’s the reader. V noncon, and he even keeps his hand over her mouth and says, “better be quiet. Don’t want the flight attendants to see you enjoying having your little pussy filled, right?” Eiiseodkdownsiwos

had to combine this with another request, it's just too good

soo... get ready for heavy dubcon/noncon with lots and lots of choking and degradation :)

He slammed you up against the plastic wall, and the door slid shut on its own: trapping you in here with this monster.

You struggled, obviously, kicking and shoving randomly to try to get him away, but it wasn't very effective; you knew you weren't strong enough to best him, that was why you'd done this in the first place-- to try to outsmart him.

"Don't fight me," he informed you. It was a warning, surely, but the softness of his voice was unexpected. You were trying to yell out for help but there was still a strong hand over your mouth; you still tried, despite what he said, to kick at his feet one more time but he only pressed up against you harder to pin you down. "Shh, shh," he soothed-- well, really, it was more like an order, just given quietly in case someone outside could hear.

You waited in silence together; you glanced over his shoulder to the message you'd left in soap on the mirror: 18F HAS BOMB. Technically not true, but as long as somebody got some attention on this guy, you might be able to get out of here alive-- and spare your father from the hitman apparently waiting outside his house.

"Creative," he smiled at you, though he didn't seem particularly amused. "Why are you so deadset on making this harder for both of us?"

"You don't have to do this... you don't have to do any of this..." you whimpered, but he bared his teeth and tightened his grip suddenly on your neck.

"Neither do you," he hissed, pressing his face close to yours as you reached up and tried to claw at the hand restricting your air. "You could just do what I fucking tell you, save us both a lot of fucking trouble, and stop gambling with your father's life. Doesn't that sound so much better?"

You obviously weren't paying much attention; your face was starting to go numb, your mouth was gaping and gasping for air that never came, and-- much to your horror-- your thighs were clenching and rubbing together. It was a fantasy you'd never dared share before, partly because you were afraid you wouldn't like it much in real life... well, even when there was an actual threat of being forced to pass out, not liking it was far from an issue. You shut your eyes tight, your grip on Jackson's wrist getting weaker as strength fled your body.

You'd rather him actually choke you to the point of passing out, than him notice the way your back arched and your hips searched for friction. Why now, of all times-- with him staring dead into your watering eyes with white hot rage, pressing you to the wall, threatening to really hurt you-- did you have to get wet?

His eyes moved down from yours to your lips-- watching you try to mouth that you couldn't breathe, begging for some air-- then down to your chest where your blouse had shifted out of the way to expose just the edge of your bra. His free hand reached up to it, delicately toying with the lacy edge as a small smile curled on his lips.

"Who's this for?" he cooed, just barely relaxing his grip on your throat so you could gasp in a massive breath of air. "Who are you dressed up for, were you planning to meet someone after we landed?"

You were too busy sputtering and trying to get some air back in your lungs to even entertain an answer to that.

"Answer me," he insisted, and you started simply shaking your head.

"N-no, no one," you promised, "I just-- I didn't put it on for any reason..."

"If that's true," he growled, reaching down to your skirt, "then these won't match--"

"Fuck, don't--" you tried to protest, but he gripped your neck again while his other hand pulled your skirt up your thighs.

They matched alright; he grinned proudly when he saw them, because he'd proven himself right-- but he was much more preoccupied with how they felt when he ran his fingers over them, petting you roughly between your legs. "Oh," he purred, looking up at your flushed face again as he choked you to keep you quiet. "I think somebody is getting some naughty ideas about us being alone in here, hm?"

You shook your head, but it was pretty hard to deny-- even if you were capable of speaking, you'd be struggling to deny it. And the more he held you by your neck, the worse it got; he grinned wide when he slipped his fingers into those panties and felt for himself how soaked you were.

"Should've known," he chuckled, clicking his tongue as he slid two fingers into you; your eyes went wide, but you felt your walls clenching on him as you struggled for air. "Those sweet faces, they're always hiding something-- of course a pretty thing like you gets off on this. Dirty fucking whore."

You shut your eyes, afraid it was only moments before you lost consciousness, and yet you felt your hips rocking forward onto his fingers. He released your throat for a moment, and you whined as you screwed up your face tight. "Jackson, please--"

"Go ahead, baby," he instructed you in a low voice, "fuck yourself on my fingers. I know you need it."

You didn't really realize that you were already doing it, your body moving desperately against his hand: your hips rocked on his fingers, and you heard yourself moan hoarsely at the feeling.

"Shh, shh," he ordered again, though this time there was a grin on his face. "Don't want anybody hearing you, do we? Don't want them all to know what a needy fucking slut you are for me..."

Your pussy throbbed again and you winced-- because you hated yourself for this, feeling completely helpless to the way your body chased pleasure. Hatred and shame tugged at your chest from the inside, and your mind still wanted more than anything to fight him off; but for better or for worse, your mind wasn't steering this ship anymore.

He curled his fingers inside you, making you whimper again, and he actually laughed at you-- softly, but an outright laugh. "So fucking desperate," he mocked, pressing his thumb up to your clit hard enough to make your legs shake. His smile fell and he grabbed your face hard, pulling his fingers out and forcing them into your open mouth until you gagged. "Can you taste it?" he snarled. "Can you taste how bad you fucking need me?"

Tears rolled down your temples from all the deprivation of air; when he took the fingers out, he brought his hand down to his trousers. You couldn't even try to describe the look in his eyes as he started to open his belt and fly, and even when you opened your mouth to try to tell him no, nothing of any use came out.

Roughly, he grabbed you and spun you around, slamming you into the wall again as you winced. "Fucking whore," he sneered, holding you down with one arm across your shoulders as he tugged your panties down roughly.

"W-wait--" was all the protest you could get out before he pressed his body against yours again, the tip of his erection sliding between your lips as you gasped.

He grunted as he forced himself inside you, and you when you let out a whimper from the stretch, he put his hand over your mouth again.

His hand grabbed your hip and pulled it back against him, forcing your back to arch. You felt his hair against your shoulder as he looked down at you, and you shut your eyes tightly as you tried not to imagine how it must look: his cock pushing into you, stretching you wide...

Each rough thrust pushed you into the wall, and you whimpered, but your legs quivering gave you away. "So fucking wet for me," he purred, leaning in to breathe by your neck. "Gonna have to make this quick, before somebody catches us-- it's a shame, though, sure could take my time with you..."

When your walls clenched on him, he let out a small chuckle just by your ear, playfully biting on the lobe.

When you moaned again as he fucked you just a bit harder, his hand found itself around your throat one more time, tightening until you were forced into silence. "That's better," he whispered, "good girl."

#jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner dark fic #jackson rippner smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

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cuubism · 5 months

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work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

#this is SO silly #hob is literally the most average guy and dream is salivating with lust and completely ferally obsessed with him #it's mutual tho dream is literally a gremlin and hob is like 😍 wow he's beautiful he's like an angel #and then they lived happily ever after #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #sex scene between these two would be funny as fuck i think hob would touch dream once and he would come instantly and maybe also faint

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roturo · 10 months

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LIKE CRAZY - dick grayson x f!reader

① NEW REQUEST FROM ANONYMOUS!: bestfriends into lovers.

→ summary: Being friends with a beautiful and smart guy like Dick had you like crazy. Plenty of girls would be asking for his number, or a date with him. But all of them got rejected by him, why? well, because he only had eyes for you.

→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), use of nicknames (sweetheart, princess, baby, good girl, etc), teasing, jealous!dick, insecure reader, possessive behavior, reader is mentioned as part of the og titans, kinda of stalker/pervert behavior, size kink.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.

Being friends with Dick Grayson wasn't easy. You spent many nights of your life waiting for him to come back from patrol and heal any wound he came back with. As much you tried to stay away from any of the heroes things since the originals Titans dissolved, somehow he always found a way to make you follow him in every new adventure he found. Even if this meant to never becoming a normal person with a normal job, normal clothes, or normal dates.

Dick wouldn't describe himself as a pervert. Yeah, he has his... problems. But a pervert? Haha, no. Watching you from a distance through your windows from your apartment isn't being a pervert... a stalker? well...

He wouldn't lie he felt his bottom part of his suit getting tighter every time he saw you by accident, ACCIDENT, changing clothes, or going out after a shower in just some tiny panties looking for some shirt he left in your house to wear with no bra.

But this night? Oh this night was different. You were getting extra ready. Were you going to text him to go out? Come to your place?

And don't get him wrong, he's not in love with you. Possessive? Well, maybe. Someone had to keep an eye on you.

He's been quite busy getting the Titans together again in some way, taking care of Rachel, dealing whatever is going on with Kory, and well, Deathstroke.

And maybe he's a little upset and maybe mad at the fact you wouldn't come back to help him with Deathstroke, but he has the other Titans right? This was only part of one of his problems.

But you weren't as selfish as him, you get worried about your friends, and usually ask them how's everything going. And that also included a very descriptive situationship of Dick and Kory for your taste.

So he's finding someone new, that's okay! You can't deny every since you met Dick, you had a tiny whiny little crush on him. How couldn't you? You both have been friends since you were little kids, you were always together, had helped the other in the toughest situations...

So, what a other better way to move on than meeting someone new? This new guy was kind, funny, nice looking, maybe not as handsome as Dick, but passable, he might not be as intelligent as Dick, or as protective and fit as him, but knowing that your crush might get with someone prettier, stronger, than you, had you like crazy.

You can hear the voices in your head trying to get the pressure off you as quickly as possible in some bad ways, but you couldn't let yourself do something bad or that would affect Dick in some way.

New guy invited you to some new club in the city, you were getting ready to get lost in the lights and drunk in the dance, you got this new Cetacean blue tiny dress, which you called ¨nightwing blue¨ since it reminded you of him. Last touches of makeup and you were ready to go out. And just in time, your date knocked on the door.

When Dick saw you getting out of your room a little too excited for his liking, he got.. worried? jealous?... you were probably going out with some friends.

¨Oh¨ Were the words that left his mouth when he saw you opening the door and smiling to new guy. When did you met new guy? You never told him about him. Quickly he got his phone out and took a picture of new guy for some... future research. Right now he had another problem to deal with.

¨Sorry, wait for me a minute i'm going for my phone¨ You told him while going back to your room, but when you came back, you never expected seeing Dick coming out of your bathroom in some pajamas he probably left one day in your apartment, with a short glance before he closed the door you could see his suit somewhere in the floor of your bathroom.

¨Babe? Is this your new friend you talked me about? The gay one?¨ Were the first words he left while going close to the door and looking at your date, with a devil grin in his face he got behind you wrapping his arms in your waist in a possessive way. To say you were shocked was little, same to your now ex-date.

¨I'm sorry new friend, but me and my girlfriend have some things to talk and figure out. Maybe next time you can go out with her. If there´s a next time.¨ The last words were barely loud enough for you to hear when he closed the door extending his arm while not letting you go in a no so calm way.

What. The. Fuck.

¨Yeah, I should ask you that too¨ You didn't realized you said it out loud. ¨What are you doing here Dick?¨ Was your first of many questions, but to say the big bump you started feeling at the back of your low back wasn't making you giddy, had you wondering if all this was a dream.

¨Claiming what's mine.¨ He answered to your question, turning you around, looking at your small figure and doe eyes full of pure confusion had his pants getting tighter around his cock. ¨When you were telling me you had this new friend princess?¨ He said, moving his hand to your face, tilting your chin to a side with one of his fingers. ¨He's not a friend.¨ You told him, assuring him he's no longer a friend, knowing how Dick is, you recognized the darkness in his eyes, but also you think you're getting crazy because you swear you can see a pint of lust in his eyes. But you guess Dick didn't got your clarification as how you meant it, since he pushed you to the wall, caging you with his arms.

¨Oh, so he's not a friend? What is he then?¨ He looked at you, eyes now full of just lust, devouring every inch of your body, waiting for a word that would let him in and make you his. ¨He's nothing now.¨ you told him, locking eyes with him, is like he read your thoughts, both of you wanted it to happen and it did.

¨Good girl.¨ The last words that left his mouth when he started kissing you, it's like both of you were waiting for this moment to happen because the kiss was full of passion. You could feel his smile while kissing you, with a small bite of your lower lip that made you let out a small whine, he started kissing your neck, every time going lower and making sure to leave a bruise that will turn purple by tomorrow. ¨You don't know how much I missed you princess¨

His words made your legs weaker, and a wet feeling became stronger going down your thighs. His hand started going towards that place were you needed friction, and when you felt his fingers playing with your panties a small moan left your mouth. ¨Oh sweetheart... all wet for me. Just for me right?¨ He pinched your clit with his thumb and index finger making you squint and give small nods to him. ¨Words baby, I need words.¨ He started playing with your clit, his mouth not leaving your neck.

¨Dick... Please...¨ You said, putting each hand of yours in his shoulders for support. ¨What do you want princess?¨ His hands moving your underwear to the side, getting his fingers wet thanks to your fluids. ¨I need you Dick¨ You moaned at the movement of his fingers playing with your hole, clenching around nothing.

¨Where do you need me baby?... Here¨ He introduced one finger into your needy hole, making you leave a loud moan. ¨Here?¨ His finger moved towards your clit, playing with it. ¨Or... Here?¨ He introduced his wet finger into your mouth, making you taste yourself at which you gratefully sucked his finger. ¨Everywhere, I need you everywhere.¨

With no more words needed he unlaced his sweatpants, taking his cock out, an angry reddish tip needy for attention was leaking pre-cum, ready to be introduced to your as equal needy cunt.

He turned you around, with no care, he broke your panties in the need of freeing your cunt. Your hands looking for support got into the wall, the cold breeze of air feeling your cunt, got you needier. ¨Can you please just fuck me Dick?¨ You said, moving your hips backwards looking for some friction of any kind. ´´Greedy, aren't we?¨ He chuckled at you being this impatient for him. Never in a thousand times, he though he would have accepted his feelings for you. But almost loosing you to another man, had him like crazy.

So with no time wasted, he inserted himself into you, making you moan at the process, Dick threw all his self-control and started thrusting into you. All you could say was small mumbles of his name and words like ¨more¨ ¨faster¨ ¨harder¨

Like if the feeling of his cock inside of you wasn't enough one of his hands moved all the way down until he found your clit and started playing with it. You were sure the other hand who was supporting you by grabbing you by your hips was going to lease some bruise tomorrow.

¨This pussy is all mine. No one's else, all mine now love.¨The last four words were said each by one hard thrust into you, perfectly touching your g-spot with each one. ¨You´re all mine now sweetheart. I won't let anyone else have you.¨

His words and the sound of skins slapping made you dizzy enough for your vision to start turning blurry, the pleasure becoming too much for you, your climax came like a rollercoaster. But that didn't stopped him, it made him even more desirable of having you all for him. You didn't think his thrusts would become faster or harder but oh boy... the did.

And that didn't stopped you for coming again, clenching his cock with a loud moan when your liquids started going out of you. You squirted all over him and it felt so good. That brought Dick over the edge and made him cum. Giving some last hard thrusts into you to deposit all of him, he just smiled while giving you little pecks in your neck and back.

¨I love you.¨

He hugged you, ¨And i'm sorry this is the way you're finding out, but I couldn't stand seeing you getting ready for another man that isn't me¨ He turned you around, the lost of the feeling of him inside you made you whine.

Inserting his cock again into his pants, and adjusting your dress, he gave you another kiss, this one full of pure and sincere love, his eyes no longer full of lust but now full of passion.

¨So you were stalking me?¨ You said between a giggle, which turned into a small laugh when you saw his face turning into shock and his ears getting red. It's like you didn't know he was watching you almost everynight getting ready for bed, and maybe some nights you gave him a show of your naked body.

¨Uh...No?¨ Was all he could say before you kissed him again and laughed at his shyness of being discovered.

You were sure this guy was the love of your life.

#dick grayson #dick grayson smut #richard grayson smut #nightwing smut #nightwing #titans smut #titans #i swear if this flops...#request #smut #titans netflix #teen titans #robin smut #dick grayson x reader smut

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 4 months

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Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

TBOSAS Vogue Interviews — You + Josh

no descriptors other than reader being shorter than tom but i use she / her. click [HERE] for the table of contents for all things tom x actress!reader, and click [HERE] for Tom + Rachel’s interview! little reminder, tbosas has been out for a month when this takes place so they are allowed to mention spoilers. this interview takes place the same day as rachel and tom’s, so you don’t know any of their questions or answers yet. little reminder, your character in HOTD is named juliette.

Like Rachel and Tom’s video, the first bit shows short clips of some answers, but no context as to what the questions are.

You burst out laughing. “That is absolutely not what happened and you know it!”

Josh thinks, then snaps his finger and points to you. “Lover, or Evermore.”

You and Josh fist-bump as you look at the camera and say “Willem Dafoe” at the same time.

THE INTERVIEW —

The actual video begins with you and Josh trying, and failing, to stop laughing.

“I’m sorry we’ll stop,” you promise as you attempt a serious face. “Hi Vogue, I’m Josh Andres Rivera.”

Josh looks at the camera with a straight face as he introduces himself using your name. “Today we’re here to ask and answer questions rapid-fire style! I have the first one, can you give us any spoilers for season two of House of the Dragon?”

You burst out laughing again. “That is not the first question… is it?”

Josh shrugs, “no but the people want to know.”

You look at the camera, “sorry I love my job too much, the people will have to wait. We are completely finished with the filming but I may actually get fired for revealing everything. However I will say if you thought the first season was crazy, you have no idea what’s coming. Where my character is involved, remember she doesn’t know that Lucerys is dead, or that Aemond is directly responsible. And he’d just convinced her that he would change and do better for her before he left, so you have her finding out to look forward to.”

“Not a spoiler like I hoped but I will accept your answer, and I can’t wait to see Juliette kick Aemond’s ass! Okay the real first question, what songs did we sing first when we went and did karaoke as a cast?” Josh raises his eyebrows. “Someone did their research. Oh God I honestly have no idea what the first song was. I definitely sang one too many though. Do you remember yours?”

You nod, “Style by Taylor Swift.”

“Oh yeah that’s right!” He looks at the camera, “that was the day I found out I’d be working with Taylor Swift’s number one fan.”

“The real question is do you remember what I said my favorite album of hers was?”

He thinks for a minute. “Fuck — oh sorry can we swear? You just told me the other day too!” After a few more seconds, he snaps and points to you. “Lover or Evermore right?”

You do a slow clap. “I’m impressed! At my core I am a Lover girly but right now my favorite album is evermore.”

Josh grins at the camera. “Major bff points right there. Okay my turn to ask a question. Oh I bet Rachel and Tom got asked this too. Most difficult scene to film and why?”

“Ooh that’s a good one,” you think for a moment. “Physically, for sure the big scene I have with Tom. Emotionally, I think Sejanus’ execution. Obviously because that’s an emotional thing in itself, but it was the most difficult emotionally just because of how much I had to cry. From the moment Sejanus is led to the tree, to the moment my character falls to the ground sobbing once he’s dead, it started out as tearing up and by the end I had to like I said be full on sobbing. I’m just thankful we got that scene in a few takes,” you laugh.

Josh nods, then points to you as he looks at the camera, “if you guys haven’t seen the movie yet, she’s incredible. I had a hard time with that scene but I can’t imagine how difficult it was for you. It was so cool to see the final cut.”

“If you don’t say your most difficult scene, that was so sweet I may actually cry right now, thank you!”

“Okay okay, emotionally I’d also say my characters execution. Physically, escaping from the arena with Tom. We tripped a few times, it was also hard because we had to coordinate with the actors who play the tributes to make sure they wouldn’t actually catch us.”

“What do you think Rachel and Tom said their answers were?” Someone asks off camera.

You and Josh are both quiet for another moment as you think.

“I think Rachel said the hardest scenes physically were the games because she missed stunt training in the beginning.”

Josh mimics your slow clap from earlier. “That was my exact answer too. And Tom… I think his answer emotionally was yours for physically. I know he was a little nervous to film the fight scene with you in the cabin.”

“My heart,” you put your hand over your heart and smile at the camera as if he’s right there, before turning back to Josh. “Yeah neither of us wanted to rehearse it very much since we couldn’t meet with the stunt coordinator until the day we shot the scene. He was so worried about hurting me. Okay sorry we took so long just for that one question. Describe each others characters in three words.”

“Badass because… hello that whole scene with Tom, kind because she puts everyone else before herself, and cunning. I like that she can think on her feet.” Josh sits back, satisfied with his answer.

You high-five Josh. “Nova May appreciates that. And now I definitely have to top that. Loyal. I know it’s almost to a fault but Nova May really loves that about him, congenial because I feel like it’s really easy to love Sejanus. He’s not like the others who grew up in the capital. And… sweet. He didn’t let having money get to his head.”

“Sejanus also appreciates your answers. Okay my question, name three characters from other franchises that you think would do well in the games.”

“I love this! I swear this isn’t because they’re shows I’ve worked on, they genuinely are the first characters to come to mind. Aemond Targaryen because he clearly has no problem with murder,” you laugh and look at the camera, “love you Ewan! Hmm, Paul Atriedes just because I really wanna see Timmy film the arena scenes. And Joel Miller because I am a Last of Us girly and I know he could kick ass.”

Josh nods, appreciating your answers. “I probably should’ve spent just now thinking of my answers, shit. I’ll say… King T’Challa because he’s overall just a badass and he can fight. This is also in the MCU but Kate Bishop because a bow and arrow are good for long distance kills, and then… just because I’ve been watching The Last Kingdom a lot, Uhtred Ragnarsson.”

“Who plays the best movie villain?” You ask. You and Josh look at each other and grin, having just discussed this a few days ago.

The 2 of you fist bump as you look at the camera and say “Willem Dafoe.”

“There will be no elaborating. Two words: Green Goblin. The ones who get it, just do,” you shrug, and the camera then zooms in on Josh who just nods.

Someone off camera motions for you and Josh to get to the last 2 questions.

“Advice for aspiring actors?” You ask. “I’d say don’t give up. You may get a hundred no’s, but if this is really what you want to do just keep working, keep auditioning. That one yes after a hundred no’s could be the role that changes everything.”

Josh points to you again, “I completely agree. Even if you feel like the only option is to give up, if this is your passion and genuinely what you want to do, don’t quit. You never know when your big break might come. I think I’ve got the last question. Favorite part about filming The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes? I know what she’s going to say,” he points to you and laughs. “Name starts with a T and ends with om,” he looks at the camera again. “You guys she was all heart eyes the moment they met.”

You can feel your face getting warm, but in the end you nod. “That is absolutely not what happened and you know it!” You sigh, then admit defeat. “Alright it’s true. I don’t know that Tom and I would’ve met if it weren’t for this film. Although I had already watched season one of Billy the Kid, that was released I wanna say a couple of months before I booked this movie. So I was already a fan of his.”

“And we all know my love for Dune and House of the Dragon,” a voice speaks up from behind you.

Immediately you get out of your chair and Tom pulls you into his arms, hugging you tight as he looks down at you. “Alright my love?” He asks. After a minute you return to your seat and he greets Josh.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, still surprised.

“Just thought I’d come surprise you,” he smiles. “And I sort of tricked you. That dinner meeting your agent mentioned is actually dinner with me,” Tom turns to Josh. “Rachel says she’s free if you both want to join us.”

Josh agrees and pulls out his phone, saying he’ll let Rachel know.

You swear if your heart could beat out of your chest, it would. No one has ever made you this happy.

Someone off camera asks you all to film the outro for the video.

“Thank you to Vogue for having us!” Tom stands beside your chair and puts his arm around you.

“We hope you enjoy our film, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes,” you smile at the camera.

“It has been in theaters for a month now but you can still catch it for a limited time,” Josh finishes.

“Bye guys!”

TOM BLYTH x ACTRESS!READER TAGLIST —

@callsignwidow | @spencerstits | @coconut-dreamz | @daenerysqueenofhearts | @inf4ntdeath

if you’d like to be added let me know!

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