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wheezyreads · 28 days ago

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oh God this was so cute :,)

Imagine Me And You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peter have feelings for each other but can’t act on them since he’s your friends ex-boyfriend

Masterlist

“Is it weird to date your ex’s friend?” Peter typed into his laptop and waited for the results to come up. He was so engrossed in reading the responses that he didn’t hear you and Ned come up to the table he was sitting at.

“What are you looking at?” You asked as you plopped down beside him. Peter quickly slammed his laptop shut and hopped you hadn’t seen his screen.

“Oh, uh. I was just taking an “Am I Gay?” Quiz.” He lied with a causal shrug.

“Aw. Did you pass?” You asked with a teasing smile.

“Aced it.” Peter said with a click on his tongue.

“I knew you would. That’s my boy.” You laughed and patted his back.

“I love when you call me your boy.” Peter said jokingly.

“So no one cares that I’m here?” Ned asked when no one had acknowledged his presence yet.

“Do you? Then maybe I should call you that more often.“ You replied and leaned towards Peter. A blush painted Peter’s cheeks while Ned rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“Maybe you should. But I’d like anything you called me.” Peter answered.

“Oh yeah? Even when I called you fart ass boy the entire bus ride home from DC?” You asked him.

“Okay. I didn’t love that.” He admitted, making you both laugh.

“You did it to yourself, mister.” You shrugged. “Should’ve waiting until you were alone to rip ass.”

“I thought it would be silent.”

“Aw. We all think things.” You said and teasingly patted his back again. You stared into each other’s eyes for a moment because no one wanted to be the first to look away.

“Can you guys stop?” Ned complained. “I feel like I’m watching straight American Heartstopper. And it sucks.”

You and Peter exchanged a look before scooting away from each other. There was always an awkwardness that followed when the unspoken feelings between you and Peter were spoken about. It’s not that neither of you wanted it enough to make the move. It was the boundary that neither of you knew if it was okay to cross.

Luckily, MJ came to the table and broke up the uncomfortable silence Ned had created. She sat down with a smile on her face but it slowly dropped when she sensed the tension among the three of you.

“Real weird vibe here guys.” MJ said out of the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry. That was my fault.” Ned said with a raise of his hand.

“Usually is.” MJ shrugged. “Anyway, a friend of mine is having an art show this Friday and they need more bodies in the room. Would you guys want to come?”

“Sure. I’ll go.” You told her.

“We’ll come. As long as there is some kind of greasy food or ice cream happening after.” Ned answered for him and Peter.

“Cool. I’ll tell her the five of us are coming.” MJ said as she pulled out her phone to text her friend.

“Five?” Peter asked.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention that I invited Liz. Sorry, Peter.” MJ replied, making everyone look at Peter. The only one Peter cared to look back at was you. His face flushed an embarrassed pink as he shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no problem with it.” He said. “We’re cool now. And we’re all friends. It’s fine that she’s invited.”

“Yeah, but we haven’t hung out as a fivesome since you guys broke up.” Ned pointed out. “This would be the first.”

“Don’t say fivesome.” MJ said warningly.

“The breakup was almost a year ago.” Peter shrugged. “I’m sure it will be fine if she comes.”

“Okay. Five of us it is then. No one better bail on me this time. I don’t want a repeat of that time everyone ditched and I had to see Lego Batman by myself with Ned.”

“I haven’t cried that hard in a movie theater before I saw it and I haven’t cried that hard since.” Ned shook his head as he blew out a breath.

You were hardly listening as you stared off into the distance, the reminder of the reason you and Peter couldn’t be together causing you to check out of the conversation. Peter looked over at you and tried to catch your eye but failed. It twisted your stomach in knots every time you thought about what having feelings for Peter would do to your friendship with Liz. As much as you liked him, you could never betray her. So instead, you pushed it down and didn’t dare to meet his eye.

On Friday night, you and Peter stood outside the art studio, both on the phone. You were anxiously waiting for someone else to show up so you didn’t have to be alone with him any longer.

“You’re not coming?” You asked in disbelief.

“I know. I hate to miss the show.” MJ groaned. “But I’m having an allergic reaction.”

“You are? From what?”

“Not sure.” MJ said quietly, making you roll your eyes to the sky.

“You got that damn crab Rangoon from that place on the corner again, didn’t you?” You asked angrily.

“I cannot resist it. I am only human.”

“A human with a shellfish allergy.” You reminded her.

“Those are optional.” She insisted.

“They’re not. I’m coming to your dorm to take care of you.” You sighed and went to hang up.

“Don’t worry about me. Liz is here.” MJ informed you, making your freeze.

“Hey. I’m taking care of her tonight.” Liz called loud enough for you to hear. You looked over your shoulder at Peter before returning to the phone call.

“Do you need any help? Last time MJ ate those things, she puked so much I almost called the Coast Guard out of fear.”

“I think I’ll be okay. Besides, taking care of her is good practice for the NCLEX.” Liz replied.

“The what?”

“Nursing exam.” She chuckled. “Don’t worry. I got her. And don’t worry about me either, okay? I want you guys to have fun tonight.”

The kindness in Liz’s voice when she said the last part made you want to ask her exactly what she meant by that. You didn’t have time to ask before you heard MJ retching and quickly hung up the phone. You thought about what Liz had said before walking back to Peter.

“MJ bailed.” You told him.

“What?” Peter laughed in surprise. “This is her friend’s show. Did she say why?”

“You know why.” You sighed.

“That damn crab Rangoon.” He huffed and stamped his foot.

“She can’t stay away.” You shrugged. “What about Ned? Is he on his way?”

“He’s not coming either.”

“What? Why not?”

“He said he remembered that he didn’t want to and is playing The Sims instead.”

“Of course he is.” You grumbled and shoved your hands in your pockets. Peter recognized that you were cold and unzipped his jacket. He went to place it around your shoulders but then hesitated. You’d been distant during the week and he wasn’t sure his jacket was something you’d want.

“Is Liz almost here?” He asked as he slipped his arms back through his coat.

“No. She’s taking care of MJ. We’re really lucky to have a friend who’s becoming a nurse. One of us is always getting sick from something stupid.” You replied, making Peter smile. He and Liz really were cool now, but he much preferred having an evening alone with you.

“Oh. Cool. Just us tonight, then.” Peter said as a blush painted his cheeks. You looked up at him sadly and shook your head.

“I think we should go home, Peter.”

“What? Why?”

“Because.” You whined. “We can’t hang out just you and me.”

“We can’t?” He asked as his heart started to sink.

“No.” You insisted. “If it’s just the two of us, then it’s like a date.”

“Oh. And you wouldn’t want to be on a date with me.” He nodded his head and looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how much that stung him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to…” You trailed off, making him look up at you with curiosity. You looked into his eyes and smiled sadly.

“We can’t. You know that.” You said quietly.

Peter knew that you were thinking about Liz. It’s not that he didn’t care if he hurt Liz by going out with you, it’s that he felt like he knew her well enough to know she’d be okay with it.

“So then let’s not make this a date.” Peter said to break the silence. “Because I don’t see any reason why the two of us can’t hang out alone. Let’s ditch this art show and go do something no two people on a date would ever do.”

“Like what? Take the LIRR to Long Island?” You asked him.

“Absolutely not.” Peter said in disgust. “I was thinking we could get some non-date food and then do a non-date activity.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a pizza right now.” You said coyly, starting to warm up to his idea. Peter smiled happily before holding out his arm. You hesitated for a moment and then took it, allowing him to lead you to the closest pizza shop.

It was tiny, dimly lit, and hardly the scene of a date, making it the perfect spot. You and Peter ordered and when he reached for his wallet, you put your hand over his.

“I got this, baby girl. Your money isn’t good here.” You told him before paying the man behind the register.

“Smart. Because if this was a date, I’d pay.” He said and tapped the side of his head. You laughed at him before getting your pizza. The two of you sat down across the table from one another in the back of the restaurant. The only other patron was shirtless and eating a calzone with two hands, so you had your privacy.

“So. What would two people not on a date talk about?” Peter asked between bites of his pizza.

“Hm. I don’t know.” You thought. “Shit from a butt?”

“Hmm. That’s a really good option.” He nodded his head. “But let’s keep thinking.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him and took a bite of your food. You had initially panicked over it just being the two of you tonight but that quickly fell away when you remembered how easy it was to be around Peter. As long as it stayed a non-date, your guilt would be at bay.

“We haven’t hung out just us in a long time.” Peter said, as if reading your mind.

“Yeah. It’s been over a year, I think.” You realized. “We went to that arcade that also sold purses and knives.”

“And hot dogs.” He added. “Remember I tried one and got a terrible nose bleed?”

“I remember that.” You chuckled. “I was so scared you were gonna bleed out in front of me. I think I gave you a tampon to put up your nose.”

“You did. And it was surprisingly very comfortable up there.”

“That was a fun night. We were out so late too. I had an early morning class the next day but I didn’t care. I didn’t want the night to end.” You said without thinking.

“Neither did I. That’s kinda how I’m feeling now. I didn’t realize how much I missed spending time with you one on one.”

“Aw, Pete.” You smiled and put your hand on top of his. “I missed it too.”

“You guys are a cute couple. Reminds me of me and my boyfriend.” The other man in the restaurant smiled at the two of you as he got up to leave. His comment brought the two of you back to reality and you quickly moved your hand. You looked to the side as Peter pretended to be busy with his napkin. Your reminiscing had landed you in date territory and you needed to pivot out of it quickly.

“The pizza is good.” Peter said to break the awkward silence that had settled.

“Yeah. I can feel a pimple forming on my chin and I haven’t even finished it yet but it’s pretty good.” You agreed without meeting his eyes. You finished your slices with small talk between bites before leaving the shop.

“Want to walk around a little? I need some movement to digest that thing.” Peter offered as he patted his stomach.

“Sure. Just, leave enough room for Jesus, okay?” You laughed awkwardly as the two of you started to walk down the sidewalk.

“Sure.” Peter chuckled and kept an appropriate amount of space between the two of you as you walked. The other sidewalk users that you had to maneuver around eventually caused you to get closer. Your hand bumped Peter’s a few times too many before you folded your arms and rubbed them up and down.

“Are you cold?” He asked you.

“A little. This damn Shein jacket is probably made out of candy wrappers and recycled Build-A-Bear skin. The wind goes right through it.” You grumbled and pulled the fake leather jacket tighter around your body.

“What an odd combination the seamstress chose.” He chuckled. “But it looks good on you.”

“Thanks.” You turned your head to give him a shy smile. Peter only let you walk a few more paces before placing his jacket over your shoulders. You gave him a grateful smile before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You knew Peter tended to run hot so you didn’t have to worry about him getting cold.

“I was going to give it to you back at the art show but I wasn’t sure if you’d want it.” He confessed to you.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You played dumb.

“I don’t know. You’ve been a little distant this week. And a little jumpy tonight. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You replied in a tone that convinced no one. Peter stopped walking so you did too. He took a step towards you and put his hand on your shoulder.

“You know you could tell me anything, right?” He said in a tone so gentle your knees almost collapsed. You looked down at his hand and then into his eyes. You wanted to tell him that you liked him and that it was killing you to not be able to be with him the way you wanted, but the words didn’t come out.

“I’m okay.” You said instead. “Let’s just keep walking. It keeps me warm to stay moving.”

Peters wasn’t fully satisfied but he knew you got cagey when you were pushed so he let it go. You ended up walking to the pier of the Long Island Sound and stopped to looked at the water.

“Wow. It’s actually kinda pretty at night. You can’t see how brown it is.” You commented as you stared at the rippling waves. Peter was too busy looking at you to see what you were talking about.

“Yeah. Very pretty.” He said in a soft voice as he watched the setting sun illuminate your side profile. You both stayed like that for a moment in comfortable silence.

“The sun is going down. You want to watch?” Peter offered. You were about to say yes when a heavy feeling hit your chest.

“Watching the sunset is a date activity.” You said quietly.

“I know. That’s why you’re gonna watch the sunset and I’m gonna go over there and watch those pigeons fighting over an Elf bar.” Peter pointed to a bench a few feet behind you to let you know where he’d be.

“Okay.” You laughed. “Don’t have too much fun.”

“No promises.” He called back as he walked to where the pigeons were. You watched him over your shoulder as he sat down on the bench and felt your heart ache. He gave you a little wave before pointing at the sky, making you turn around. You longed to go over and sit next to him and watch the sunset together, but you couldn’t do that. If he had dated anyone else but your friend, you could. But everything was complicated so you stayed where you were.

“How was it?” Peter asked as he joined you on the pier once the sun had fully dipped under the horizon.

“It was beautiful. You would’ve liked it.” You told him. “It was one of those nights when the sun looks really red and the sky is orange. I know you like those.”

“I do. But don’t worry, I secretly watched from behind you.” He admitted. “But it doesn’t count as watching it together because we were socially distancing.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to miss it.” You said as you stared into his eyes. He stared back and raised his hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your cheek, but quickly put it down. You gave him a tight smile before tossing something into the water.

“What was that?” He wondered.

“My pizza crust. I was throwing it to the whales.” You replied. Peter looked back and forth between you and the water for a few times to see if you were serious.

“There are no whales in this water.” He said finally.

“Then what have I been throwing bread crumbs at for the past ten minutes?”

“I have no idea since whales don’t eat breadcrumbs in the first place.”

“Well something was popping out of the water to eat the crumbs.�� You pointed out.

“In the Long Island Sound? It was probably the Babadook or something. Let’s go before it comes out and gets us.” He said and put his hand on the small of your back to lead you away. Your face went hot at the contact and you had to give him a look. He rolled his eyes slightly and dropped his hand.

“I know, I know.” Peter said sarcastically. “I dated your friend for three months almost a year ago so you and I cannot do anything that would suggest there was a romance between us. But I put my hand on Neds back too, by the way.”

“I know. That’s why you passed that “Am I Gay?” quiz this week.” You teased him. Peter laughed lightly but you could tell he was upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, making him stop in his tracks. He looked at you with his big brown eyes and you felt that old familiar ache in your heart.

“It’s not the I regret dating Liz. She’s a great girl.” He began.

“I know.” You nodded, shocked that you were actually talking about this forbidden subject out loud.

“I cannot tell you how much I regret dating a friend of yours.” He continued, making butteries erupt in your stomach.

“Oh.” You said quietly. He looked to the side but you continued to stare at his face. He looked upset and had his usually blush splashed across his face.

“Peter.” You said softly and went to put your hand on his face. He quickly snapped out of his mood and threw a smile on.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asked.

“What?” You wondered, confused by the sudden change in emotion.

“Those little squishy oatmeal cookies with the cream in the middle. You know what I’m talking about?”

“Not the answer I was expecting, but okay. Oatmeal creme pies?”

“Yes!” He exclaimed. “Those were so good. They’ve been on my mind all week.”

“Let’s stop in and get some. I’m sure they have them.” You laughed and pulled him into the nearest corner store.

“Really? You want one?” He asked excitedly as you walked through the door together.

“No, but I can’t think of anything less romantic than watching you down one of them right now.”

“Oh, baby, you’re about to watch me down three of them right now.” Peter held up three fingers as he practically skipped to the snack aisle. You laughed and followed him to help him look. He didn’t find them in that aisle so he went around the corner to check the next one.

“How much do you think this is?” He asked as he came back to the aisle you were in with an orange cat in his arms.

“Put him down.” You ordered. “That’s the manager.”

“Fine.” Peter sighed and gently let the cat go. “Now I kinda want one of these giant protein cookies.”

“No way. Those taste like straight up sand and butt.” You warned him.

“At the same time?” He wondered. “Or is it like very sand forward with a butt aftertaste?”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” You playfully narrowed your eyes as you turned to him.

“I do actually, yes. Thank you for noticing.” He replied and took a step closer to you.

“The only thing I noticed is that eyelash that’s been sitting on your cheek all night. I want it.” You said and reached up to take it off his face. He gently caught your wrist and moved it away, bringing you closer to him in the process.

“Get away from me.” He laughed. “That’s my wish. Not yours.”

“Come here. Please, let me get it off your face. It’s been bothering me since the pizza place. I’ll do anything. I’ll buy you all the sand cookies you want.” You offered as you tried with your other hand to hold his face still. Peter had wrapped his arm around your waist now to better maneuver you away from his face as you struggled to get the eyelash.

“That is not what I want.” He said in response to your cookie offer.

“Hey guys.” A voice came from down the aisle, making you both freeze before untangling yourselves from each other.

“Liz.” You smiled in surprise and hastily fixed yourself. “What are you doing here?”

Peter gave her a small wave but said nothing. Her face was calm and if anything, delighted to see the both of you. Meanwhile, your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt guilt like never before.

“I’m just getting some Pepto for MJ. She only has the cherry kind and she said it-“

“Reminds her too much of her ex.” You finished her sentence. “I know. Is she okay?”

“She’s doing better. I think she’s learned her lesson this time. She’s not gonna eat them again.” Liz answered. You all were silent for a moment before bursting out laughing.

“That was a good one, Liz.” You said once your laughter died down.

“Thank you.” She smiled. “So, how was the art show?”

“Oh, we didn’t end up going. We got food instead.” Peter replied. Your heart started to pound again in fear of how that sounded to Liz.

“Oh yeah? Where?” She wondered.

“Just some random little pizza place. The pizza was like $2 and it tasted like the price. I bought my own, by the way. I mean, I bought his too, but only because I already had a five dollar bill out.” You quickly explained. Liz laughed at how you stumbled over yourself but didn’t make any sign of being upset with either of you.

“Wow. Thank you for all the details.” She said teasingly.

You felt about ready to explode by that point. Liz appeared calm and happy, the exact opposite of how you were feeling inside. You felt like you were betraying your friend right in front of her eyes and you didn’t understand why she wasn’t calling you out for being a bad friend yet.

“Peter, can you go get me a clear Gatorade?” You asked Peter.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Bye Liz.” He waved again before leaving the aisle.

“I don’t think they make a clear Gatorade.” Liz said once you were alone.

“They don’t. I just wanted to get rid of him.” You told her.

“Oh, smart.” She chuckled. “So, did you guys have fun tonight?”

“It was okay. It was a pretty uneventful hang out with a friend.” You said with extra emphasis on the “friend” part.

“Really? It seemed like you were having fun when I saw you guys.” She said with surprise. She didn’t sound angry which didn’t make sense to you.

“Fun? With Peter? No way. We’re only hanging out because everyone else bailed. I’d never hang out with him alone otherwise. And I never will again, just so we’re clear.” You assured her. Liz looked at you for a while before smiling softly.

“Hey, you know that red sweater you let me borrow last semester?” She asked you.

“Oh, yeah. The one with the big buttons.” You recalled.

“You know how after I wore it a few times, you told me to keep it?” She continued.

“Well, yeah. I thought it was cute but it never looked right on me. But it looked great on you. I wanted you to have it.”

Liz smiled when you said exactly what she was hoping. She put her hands on your shoulders to make you look at her.

“You can keep my sweater. It looks much better on you. And it was never mine to begin with.” She said in a soft tone. You caught on to what she was saying and looked over at the drink section where Peter was still searching for the nonexistent drink.

“Liz. I can’t.” You shook your head and looked down at the ground.

“If you don’t like him and I’m reading all the signs wrong, then l’ll drop it. But if you’re holding yourself back from being with him because of me, then both of you need to cut it out. Because it’s fine with me.”

“It is?”

“Of course it is.” She insisted. “Peter and I barely dated. And we broke up for a reason. We didn’t work as a couple and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean he’s off limits from you or any other girl. I think you should go for it.”

“But he’s your ex-boyfriend.”

“And you’re my best friend. I want you to be happy.“ She said with a friendly squeeze of your shoulders. You gave her a sad smile and then pulled her into a hug. She hugged you back tightly as Peter watched curiously from a distance.

“I appreciate you caring about my feelings. But it’s not necessary.Now, go get him.” Liz said once you pulled out of the hug. Peter came back and joined you in the aisle with a smile.

“Here you go.” Peter said as he handed you the bottle of clear Gatorade.

“What the hell?” You whispered in disbelief at his find.

“I better get back to MJ. But call me if you guys get sick from that pizza.” Liz waved goodbye and left to make her purchase.

“What were you guys talking about?” Peter asked once the two of you left the store with your items.

“My old red sweater.” You told him to put it lightly.

“The one with the big buttons? I remember it. You always looked pretty in it. How come you don’t wear it anymore?” Peter wondered. For once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the compliment from him without feeling guilty. You stopped walking and Peter followed suit and stopped with you.

“Because it was never mine to begin with.” You smiled fondly at him and slipped your hand into his. Peter smiled back at the unexpected gesture but his smile slowly faded when he realized he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“Am… am I supposed to know what that means?”

“I think you know what it means.” You said as you took a step closer to him. Peter looked to the side and in confusion and still had no idea what you were talking about.

“I’m confused. Did you steal it or some-“

You cut Peter off by grabbing his shirt to pull him into a kiss. Once Peter’s initial surprise wore off, he put his hands on your face to kiss you back. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself into him, kissing him until you ran out of breath. When you pulled away, Peter had a shy smile on his face as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“What made you change your mind about us?” He asked you in a timid voice. “And don’t say the red sweater because I still don’t understand what that meant.”

“I just realized we’re a good fit. And I didn’t want to hold myself back anymore.”

“So does this mean I can take you on a real date sometime? One where I buy your pizza and watch the sunset next to you?” Peter asked hopefully.

“It does. I’d really like that.” You answered coyly, making him smile.

“Does this also mean if you and I break up, I’m allowed to date Ned?” Peter asked jokingly.

“Don’t push it, mister.” You warned him.

“I won’t.” He held his hands up in defense. You started walking down the street again, this time hand in hand.

“Oatmeal creme pie?” Peter offered as he leaned the box of Oatmeal cookies towards you.

“Why thank you.” You said and took one. “Clear Gatorade?”

Peter accepted your offer and took a large sip of the Gatorade you’d been drinking. He winced at the flavor and looked at the bottle.

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Ugh. This Gaterade is gross.” He grimaced. “Oh my God. This isn’t Gatorade. This is magnesium citrate.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s the stuff you drink before a colonoscopy to, you know, clear yourself out.” Peter said with obvious discomfort.

“What?” You exclaimed and grabbed the bottle to read it for yourself. Sure enough, the neatly empty bottle was what Peter said it was.

“If you think about it, this is kinda the perfect way to end our non-date.” Peter said to try to make you feel better. You gave him a look before pulling out your phone.

“Hey Liz.” You said into the phone. “Funny story.”

Taglist 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@officialsimppage @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy @wordsarelife

@starboyshoyo

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you

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wheezyreads · 28 days ago

Text

okay guysss there’s enough of me to go around no need to fight

Darkest Desires (Void x Reader)

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, all you wanted was to be distracted, to forget. Wishing that Bob could just stop being so nice and pin you down, do all those filthy things you don't dare say out loud. Too bad Bob can't hear your thoughts or read your mind. But someone else can...

Warnings: Unprotected sex, face fucking, choking and breath play, spit play, dom/sub dynamics, degradation and humiliation, dub!con (bob), slight voyeurism, name calling, afab!reader, no use of name or y/n,... lmk if I forget something, but really it's just pure filth.

Words: 4.4k

A/N: This is just absolutely self indulgent smut, cause there was a serious lack of Void!Bob fics imo. The last fic I've posted/wrote anything for public consumption was like 4 years ago, so I might be a little rusty, but I'm still pretty satisfies with how it turned out. Also not super proof read. I hope you enjoy it, though! Comments, reblogs and likes would be greatly appreciated... I need validation lol

It was so quiet on the ride back, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

No one spoke, no laughter. Just the low rumbling of the truck engine and the occasional ticking of the indicator, but you barely even registered that. Your thoughts were swirling. Overthinking and replaying every single step of the mission and how it could end so badly.

All of the hostages got killed. And the bad guys got away.

You should’ve done more, done things differently, maybe come up with a better plan. It was rushed because it was a very time sensitive mission, but you had to at least try.

The reality was, there was nothing you could’ve done and deep down you knew that. Didn’t mean you had to accept it, though.

A quick look around the truck told you that the others were probably thinking similar things. Solemn faces on each and every one of them. Even Alexei kept his mouth shut for once. That was a big indicator on how badly things had gone. He was usually the first one to try and motivate everyone or make a dumb joke.

Silence was only broken when you got back into the tower and Bob came striding towards the group.

“How did it go?” There was a hopeful and cheery tone to his voice and a small smile on his face that dropped immediately when he really took everyone in.

“What do you think?” Walker spat back, before turning towards his room, door slamming.

Bob knew not to take it personally, but you could still tell that he felt guilty. His face always betrayed his every emotion.

He then looked at you. And you just shook your head, not ready for words yet.

You were closer to Bob than the rest, understood each other wordlessly. When you met something just clicked and since then you have basically been dancing around your feelings for one another. Hesitant because you were working and living together. Both still dealing with your own demons and issues.

And even though it was an unspoken thing, everyone knew, but no one dared mention it.

You needed a shower. Showering after a mission was essential, not only to clean the physical grime off you, but it also helped with the unseen. As if the water would wash away the sins and worries, cleansing everything.

You were just stepping out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel when someone knocked at your door. You had a feeling who it could be.

“Come in,” you said, loud enough to be heard on the other side.

The door slowly opened and as expected, Bob stepped inside.

As soon as he had looked at you, he looked away again towards the floor, his face tinted slightly red.

“Uh- sorry - I uh- just wanted to ask if you were okay…” He trailed off, hands still on the doorknob, slightly fidgeting. Sparing a quick glance towards you. The towel around your body covered all the important bits, but it was more skin than Bob usually got to see. The few droplets of water that were still shimmering on your skin or fell from your wet hair and slid down the curves of your body didn’t help much either, his eyes drawn to them.

“No,” you answered honestly. “But I will be.”

A sad hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was nice of Bob to check in on you and for a split second a part of you wished he wasn’t so nice and considerate. That part of you wished he would just rip that towel off you, throw you on your bed and take you, making you forget all about that failed mission for little while.

But you didn’t think Bob was the type to do that. He was gentle, loving Bob who couldn’t even kill a spider, always scared to wake the Sentry or the Void, so he pushed those things down. Kept his emotions in check.

It was something that also made you hesitate to pursue a relationship with him. You weren’t sure he could handle or satisfy those darker desires.

“Alright, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.” He managed to actually look at your face this time, a faint blush still staining his cheeks and he tried to give you a reassuring smile. He was about to leave you and close the door when you stopped him.

“Bob?”

He looked at you expectantly, brows slightly knitted together.

You were so close. So close to saying to hell with it and asking him to stay. To spend the night with you, to fuck you until the only thing on your mind was him and how good he made you feel.

The words were at the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out, when at the last second you decided against it. He didn’t deserve to be used for your selfish needs.

“Thank you,” you whispered instead. His brows relaxed but instead you could’ve sworn that a shadow flickered in his eyes. Just as quick as it had appeared, it disappeared again and you weren’t even sure if what you saw was real.

“Yeah, of course.” A reassuring smile lit up his face and he moved to close the door with a soft click behind him.

Walking back into the bathroom, you finished drying your hair and body, putting on your underwear and a big t-shirt to get ready for bed.

It was strangely chilly as you stepped back into your bedroom and pushed back the blankets. You looked towards the window. Closed. Glanced towards the air-conditioning unit, but it was also off.

You looked towards the door and there he was.

Bob but not Bob.

Void.

Last time you saw him was such a long time ago, you almost forgot what it felt like to be in his presence.

He was darkness personified. A figure drenched in night. The deepest shade of black.

He was sucking in all the light around him and reflecting none.

Except for his eyes.

That glint in his eyes the only indicator of what - or who - he was looking at. And right now, he was looking at you. You stood frozen.

People don’t realize how eerie and uncanny it was, seeing a person but not at all being able to see their face or read their expressions. The only hint was him slightly cocking his head as he seemingly took you in.

“Bob?” You asked quietly, knowing that it wasn’t him you were dealing with.

“Bob’s not in control right now,” he replied.

“Don’t worry, he wants this too.” The voice came from all around you and was inside your head at the same time.

You didn’t know what to do. There were protocols and rules in place in case Bob lost control, but somehow you couldn’t do anything right now. Never have you frozen during a mission, but this was completely different.

“Come now, don’t be so shy,” Void continued speaking and it made goosebumps rise on your skin. He still sounded like Bob, but just like the rest of him, it was darker, deeper, huskier.

It was also smoother, no stuttering or stumbling over words.

Void took a step closer to you but you still couldn’t move.

“I know what lurks inside you. I can see it all. There is no hiding it from me.” He kept coming closer, each step silent as he moved.

For a moment you were confused, not knowing what he meant. Until he stood right in front of you. So close that you had to look up to still be able to look into his eyes, as they were taking in your whole body unashamedly and with intention.

And then he looked at your face again. Eyes boring into yours.

Staring at him so up close was like being in a dark room, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Eventually you could make out the contours of his face.

“I know you want to be fucked. Degraded. Made to submit,” the voice purred as he was raising a hand up to your face and slid his knuckles down your cheek. A breath hitched in your throat. Pulse quickening.

“Your thoughts were practically screaming it earlier. Like a little slut.” Void let out a low chuckle and you could make out a smirk on his face.

“But that’s exactly what you are, isn’t it? A needy little slut begging to be fucked.” He now traced the thumb of his raised hand over your lips.

You knew there was something very wrong with you, but you couldn’t help but lean into his touch and feel arousal start to build in your body. A soft pulling sensation low in your belly. And a wetness between your legs, which had you involuntarily clench your thighs together.

Because Void wasn’t wrong. In fact he was so, so right.

His thumb on your lip moved from your bottom lip to push into your mouth and you opened it, let him inside. The pad pressed down on your tongue and you instinctively wrapped your lips around his digit, sucking on it.

All too quickly he pulled it back out of your mouth, dragging it over your chin and down your jaw. His hand moving into your neck where they found purchase in your hair.

The grip tightening, as he was closing the gap between you. His body now flush against yours, he pulled your head back further, making you look at his face as a quiet moan slipped from your lips.

You could now feel the solid panes of his torso against yours as well as the hardness of his arousal. Your body arched against him, wanted to feel more of him. Be closer. ´

“God, you’re so fucking eager, it’s embarrassing.” Again he let out a soft laugh and this time you felt it rumble in his chest against yours.

“Please…” It was the only word you could manage. And even then you didn’t really know what you were asking for. You just knew you needed more.

“What is it you want?”

Not even thinking about it, the word simply spilled from your mouth.

“You.”

He leaned in even closer and you could feel his breath fanning over your face.

“Is it me you want or Bob?”

That caught you off guard and you didn’t know how to reply. Of course it was Bob. Bob who you’d been harboring feelings for, for so long. But you wondered much of him was Void? And how much of Void was him? Guilt cut through your arousal at the mention of him, sharp and sickening. Was he aware of what was happening?

Void leaned in closer until his lips grazed your ear.

“He’s watching right now.” The words were whispered.

Bob watching. A voyeur. The idea twisted something deep in your gut. Filthy and wrong, stoking the flames of your arousal.

“Open your mouth.” Those were not the words you expected from him and you didn’t immediately react. He gave your hair a sharp tug.

“I said open. your. mouth.” His other hand came up, gripping your jaw. This time you complied, opening your mouth and you felt you knew what was coming.

He leaned over you a little more and when his face was directly parallel to yours, he spat into your open and waiting mouth. His spit hit your tongue, mixing with your own saliva.

“Swallow,” he ordered. You obeyed. Something about the depravity of it, made you let out a whimper and bite your bottom lip. Trying to keep more sounds from coming out.

His grip in your hair relaxed but was still holding on to you. The other one slid from your jaw down to rest at your throat.

“Good girl,” he muttered, smiling again. This time you could see the flash of his teeth and heat was blooming inside you, happy to have pleased him. Eager to do it again.

“Now what if I told you this was all you’re going to get?” Void asked.

“What?” It caught you off guard, panic rising inside of you. You needed more.

“Because if you want more, you’re going to have to work for it. That’s what whores do. And you do, don’t you? Want more?” Now it was his other hand whose grip tightened, fingers digging into the sides of your throat, slowly cutting off your blood flow.

“Yes. Yes I want more,” You ground out, voice trembling, your vision starting to blur at the edges until the only thing you could still see was him.

That’s when Void released you. Hands dropping to his sides and taking a step back. You needed a second, head still spinning, vision going back into focus.

“Then get on your knees.”

Immediately and embarrassingly fast you dropped to your knees. The floor hard underneath them. You were sure that you’d have bruises tomorrow, but you couldn’t find yourself to care right now.

Glancing up once more, you were met with the shining look of his eyes, head cocked to the side, observing.

Lifting your hands, you reached to open the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper and freeing his cock. Of course you had fantasized about Bob before, but even in your wildest imagination, you didn’t imagine him like this. Even in his all encompassing blackness, you could tell he was perfectly long and thick and felt heavy in your hands. It made your mouth water, just looking at him, and you needed to taste him.

“Go on,” he encouraged, but you didn’t really need it.

You started by dragging your tongue over the underside, from his base to the tip in one broad stroke and then closed your mouth around the top. You moaned at the weight and taste of him on your tongue, slowly moving up and down on him. Trying to fit as much into your mouth as you could, lips stretching, and taking him deep, but it was not easy. Not only because of his size, but also because of how hard and rigid he was.

Void let you work at your own speed. But you could feel him grow impatient. His hand found your hair once more, tangling in it and started guiding your movements. Faster, harder. You let go of his cock and placed down on his thighs, finding purchase there.

In time, his hips started moving too, thrusts matching your rhythm, pushing in as you were moving towards him.

You started gagging when he hit you especially deep. Forcing himself down your throat, making tears blur your vision. You looked up at him and saw that he had thrown his head back, chest heaving. And over the sound of your own gagging you could even hear him moan.

Seeing the effect you had on him, spurred you on more.

You tried opening your throat more, relaxing to take him deeper and slowly breathe through your nose.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he ground out, pushing you even harder down his cock and holding you there until you couldn’t breathe anymore and he was so far down your throat, sputtering around him. The sudden need to breathe made you want to pull back, but Void held you in place.

“Shhh, you can take it.” He was breathless but there was also an air of amusement to his voice. He obviously enjoyed hearing and seeing you suffer.

Digging your nails into his thighs, you tried to hold on and when he finally released you and pulled your head back you desperately gasped for air. Threads of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock.

“Is this what you fantasized about? Mouth wrecked, crying, being used like a whore?” He mocked and you only nodded still trying to catch your breath, but you knew that he didn’t really need your confirmation.

Before you could verbally answer, he shoved his cock back down your throat and started fucking your face again. Faster this time. Merciless. His tip making you gag repeatedly, your throat clenching around it while spit flowed from your mouth, pooling in your lap.

“You’re just a mouth to fuck. Nothing more,” he growled, still keeping his brutal rhythm.

“But you’re taking it so well.”

It was almost too much, not enough air filling your lungs, on the verge of passing out when he finally released you. Tears were now freely streaming down your cheeks and you collapsed in on yourself. Taking in heaving breaths.

And then, to your utter confusion, Void got down on his knees, too, He was on your level now and took your face in his hands wiping away the tears with his thumbs. Then the spit from your mouth.

“If only you could see yourself right now. So wrecked but absolutely beautiful. My perfect little slut.”

The sincerity in his voice surprised you, but what surprised you even more was when he leaned in and kissed you for the first time.

It was surprisingly gentle, his lips sliding over yours, but hunger was hidden within. A promise that he wasn’t done with you just yet.

A part of you thinks you should’ve pulled away, felt ashamed or disgusted. But you didn’t. Instead you craved his approval and eagerly kissed back.

Void wrapped his arm around you and pulled you up to stand with him, placing you down on shaky feet. He grabbed the bottom hem of your oversized t-shirt, becoming aware for the first time how little you've been wearing the entire time. Pulling it over your head and discarding it to the side. Then he hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them down, letting them drop to the floor. You stepped out of them, kicking them towards where your shirt was laying.

For a moment Void was simply staring at your body. The glint of his eyes roaming over your shape so intensely, it made you want to cover up yourself with your hands. But then his hands joined in on the exploration. Moving over your hips and waist, to your tummy and breasts, squeezing them, circling your nipples, before sliding one hand down between your legs, finding your dripping center.

That smirk appeared on his lips again, eyes shining.

"I knew you would be wet... but this..." he trailed off, shook his head amusedly as he slowly glided two fingers between your slick folds, grazing your clit on the way there and making a shiver run through your whole body. And finally he eased those two fingers inside you, with almost no friction, pumping them slowly in and out, knuckle deep.

Finally being touched by him felt like ecstasy. Wanton moans escaped your lips with every movement, eyes screwed shut, trying to take in all the pleasure. After all this build up, you knew that it wouldn't take much to make you come.

As if he had read your mind, he withdrew his fingers and slid them into his mouth instead. Making you watch as he sucked them clean with a grin. Tension coiled tight in your body, making you squirm as you were waiting for his next move.

Once he was done, he pulled his fingers from his mouth and placed his hands on your hips once more, quickly spinning you around.

With your back now to his front, he pushed you towards the bed.

"Get on all fours," he commanded. Quickly you crawled onto the bed and got into position.

You glanced over your shoulder as he discarded the rest of his clothes and then kneeled behind you. He stroked your back with his hands and squeezed your ass before he placed a sharp smack on it. You flinched but stayed in place. He repeated the same process a few more times until your butt cheeks felt hot and burning.

"I can practically see you dripping, your pussy so desperate for my cock.” He started sliding the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering up some of the wetness and spreading it over his length.

When he pushed in, without warning or hesitation, you were seeing stars. For so long you have wanted this, to feel Bob - Void - inside of you.

One deep and swift push and he was fully seated inside you. There was a stretch, a slight burn, but you were so wet and ready that it was bearable and even pleasant. Feeling your body try to accommodate him, taking everything he had to give.

He waited a few seconds for you to adjust and then started moving. His hands grabbed your hips tight in a bruising grip and every thrust was forcing a moan out of you. You pushed back, grinding against him.

"Your pussy feels so perfect, like it's made for my cock." He rasped out, moans escaping his lips too. Hearing him degrade you was filthy and beautiful, but the praise… it made you feel thing you weren’t sure you were supposed to feel. Not for the Void.

One of his hands slid up your back between your shoulder blades, pushing your front down against the mattress.

It allowed him to angle your hips more, hitting even deeper inside you. Gripping your bedsheets, digging your nails into the fabric you also buried your face in the sheets, muffling the sounds of your moans slightly.

His hand smoothed over the surface of your ass, before his thumb landed on your asshole, circling it, applying slight pressure but not quite pushing in. Stilling your own movements, you no longer pushed back. Letting him take complete control again.

You let out a whimper, not knowing if you wanted him to do it or spare you some dignity.

"Oh yeah, I'm thinking about it..." he mused, still fucking you, but having slowed a little.

"And I know you'd let me do it too, my dirty little slut. Let me claim your every hole. Make you mine completely." He kept going for a few seconds longer, making you wait. The air around you heavy with anticipation. Because he was right, you would let him.

"But I think I'll wait until next time."

Next time... the words barely registering in your lust-addled mind, but had a deeper meaning.

He reached for your throat, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against his chest. His other one snaked around your waist first up towards your boobs, giving your nipples each a hard pinch and tugging on them. Then further down towards your clit, starting to rub circles there. All the while still rutting into you from behind.

It didn't take long, your own climax building up so rapidly. The combination of him rubbing your clit, his hand on your throat applying pressure and feeling his whole body pressed against you as he was hitting those deliciously deep spots inside you.

You clung onto his arms, trying to keep him in place but you knew that he was stronger than you and he easily moved his hand away from your core.

"Oh, you're not gonna come yet... maybe I won't even let you come at all. Keep you a desperate, wanting mess. Utterly ruined without even finding your own release, just to keep you begging for more.” The voice was right by your ear.

"No please!" You cried out. You knew he would do it and that he would enjoy watching you suffer.

"I need it. Need to come,” you continued.

"Need it?" He laughed. "If you need it so bad, why don't you beg for it?"

Tears were beginning to prickle at the corner of your eyes once again but this time out of sheer frustration. Your last shred of dignity wanted you to keep your mouth shut, thinking that you could just make yourself come afterwards. But you knew it wouldn't be the same. You needed him to grant you the release, to be the one to bestow it upon you. The desperate part of your mind won.

"Please Void, please! Please let me come. I need it so bad. I want you to make me come, please!" The words were spilling from your lips, continuous. Breathless, lips quivering.

"All right, I'll help you out.” You could barely hear it, lost in your begging. Still chanting please, please, please over and over again like a prayer to this god of darkness, as he moved his fingers back onto your clit. In mere seconds, the coil that was so tightly wound inside of you, finally snapped. Pleasure releasing all throughout your body in probably the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, blinding and all consuming, your whole body shaken by it.

And as those waves were still washing over you, a faint voice in the very back of your mind stirred.

He should not be able to make you feel like it. You should not have let him do this.

Deep down you knew, the voice was right. You have now crossed a line and there was no going back.

If it wasn't for Void holding you up, you probably would've slumped forward onto the bed. Limp and spent.

You knew that he was chasing his own release now. His thrusts becoming faster, his grip on your body tightened and with one last deep thrust and a low groan, he spilled himself inside of you. For a little while you just stayed like that, both with heaving breaths while still connected.

He then slipped out of you and without him holding you in place, immediately collapsed back onto your front. The soft mattress catching you. Only able to move so your head could rest on one of the pillows. Between your legs, his release was beginning to seep out of you, slick and warm and sticky.

Void came to sit down on the edge of the bed and he reached a hand out and gently stroked over your hair. And for a split second you could see a hint of Bob in that action.

"Fucking perfect," he whispered, head cocked to the side as he took you in.

You tried to fight it, but couldn't any longer, your eyelids too heavy, slowly falling shut. You were barely conscious, drifting off to sleep when you heard the voice again.

"He doesn't deserve you.” The dark voice whispered in your head. “But I do.”

Tags: @trelaney

#bob reynolds #robert bob reynolds #the void #void bob #void #bob reynolds x reader #void x reader #bob reynolds smut

598 notes · View notes

wheezyreads · 29 days ago

Text

oooh i loved loved LOVED this

pure filth

and omg- her doing it on purpose so he’d see her the day before… pure mastermind behavior

obedience, denial, and a dash of guilt - pt two

Brother’s BFF perv!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (Explicit NSFW) - Eddie’s POV

pt one

Synopsis: Primed with a few ways the night could go, Eddie heads over to your place for your movie night. He could either be totally casual or…or he could be a bit of an asshole. Maybe he’ll end up being both. Who’s to say? :)

Warnings: Eddie’s POV - Modern AU; porn no plot - explicit nsfw content; dirty thoughts, extreme edging/denial, eddie’s a bit of an ass/mean, tickling (non-sexually), reader using a butt plug & a bullet vibe, consensual recording, dom!eddie & sub!reader, reader counts her edges, crying/sobbing from them, spanking, clit stim, fingering (vaginal & anal), begging, nipple stim, nipple clamps, handcuffs, vaginal & (rough) anal sex, unprotected sex, eddie takes a phone call mid-sex, anal sex while edging with only clit stim, sort of mindbreaking with the intense edging, creampie

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: So. Um. I got a little carried away with this one. There is no plot, just “not kinktober” kinktober stuff. Hope y’all like it :3

9:00 PM.

Eddie made a fucking rule. If you weren’t wearing a skirt, he was going to be a fucking gentleman. His version of a gentleman. As in he was going to act like he hadn’t been by yesterday, hadn’t seen you sobbing into your bed pressing yourself down onto the wand, edging yourself, and he definitely hadn’t recorded it. He was fucking sticking to that.

Wasn’t going to delete the video yet, but he’d get there.

Maybe.

He was going to get through the night first.

Either you were wearing a short skirt with nothing underneath, or you weren't. He wasn't going to let himself get his hopes up, no fucking sir. He kept squashing them back down the second he was up that morning. Then it was up and down, blood to his cock, and shutting up a lot of dirty thoughts. So many dirty thoughts.

He watched the video a few times. Tried not to, but he wanted to see the list again, so he might as well watch it through. See your pretty cunt dripping and hear how pretty you sounded begging.

Chriiiiiiiist.

Eddie tensed his thighs until they hurt. He held a case of beer in one hand and two pizzas in the other. Knocking with his foot was the only option, so he nudged your door with the toe of his shoe. Looked around, hoping that maybe looking at the shitty light fixture above your door would calm his nerves down. You weren’t going to be wearing a skirt. He kept telling himself that.

You weren’t!

He was a right prick that needed to delete the video, scrub the view of you from his memory, and get the fuck over it before your brother gave him a concussion.

Get your shit together, Munson, he thought. Over and over. Saying it more times wasn’t helping, but fuck it. It was all he really had to keep himself in check. He’d act like normal, fuck around, tease you a little regardless–it was just his way with you, then you’d watch a movie in agony.

He’d pull himself together. He fucking would.

He had a smile ready when he heard the lock give on your door. Tilted his head, held up the pizza, and found your smile waiting for him like a goddamn gift when the door opened. But that was the gift. No fucking goddamn way. Not at all.

“Hey,” you beamed, a real bright smile making you light up.

Eddie clocked the peek of your nipples through the spaghetti-strap blousy shirt you had on. And then he clocked your skirt. Real short skirt. Hung just past your ass in a real tempting, real hypocritical white.

Oh, fuck everything. He beamed right back at you.

“Hey,” he mused. And he strolled in, brushing his arm against your chest. It was an accident, but one he fucking took. Even though he couldn’t feel much with his leather coat on, it was enough.

No bra. No underwear. A plug in that tight asshole and a bullet vibe teasing your goddamn perfect cunt. He glanced back while setting the pizzas and beer down on your coffee table, watching the fabric of your shirt move over your tits while you shut and locked the door.

It'd be so easy. Ask you to reach for some tall fucking shelf. Drop something on the floor and have you pick it up. A flash–caught red-handed in the dirty state you were in. How wet were you already? The timer started now for the edges, right?

He threw his head back and flipped a box open. You grabbed plates and came swaying over. He watched your hips without shame. Popping open two beers, he took a small sip. When you handed him a plate, he nearly choked on it when your fingers brushed.

“Really got nothing better going on than hanging out with me on a Friday night?” Eddie mused, stepping back and plopping onto your couch. Fuck. It was soft. He’d crashed on it before; sometimes even slept better than in his bed. But when he drew his eyes over your thighs and chest, all he wanted was to fuck you into it.

“Eds, you’re hanging out with your best friend’s younger sister. So.” You dropped a piece of pizza onto a plate and handed it to him, then took one for yourself. You joined him on the couch then, shifting back with the tiniest clench in your jaw. Eddie damn near lost it. But your thighs went together, a pillow went over your lap, and you had the remote ready. “I think you have the sadder story here. I just wanted company to watch the movie. I can call someone else…?”

He snatched the remote from you, earning a small grin from you in the process. Like hell he was leaving. Not then. He wanted to see if you could go the whole movie without getting caught. He'd be impressed, if not a little sad that he couldn't do anything with you. But the knowing without you knowing was almost as good as the anticipation of possibly getting to fuck you if your little secret wasn’t so much of a secret anymore.

“That’s what I thought,” you mused, sitting back and taking a sip of beer.

Your smile was as shy as it was devious. The things Eddie wanted to do to you in that moment when your eyes locked were far from gentle and affectionate. You were fucking following a goddamn list to deny yourself. Degrade yourself. Everyone thought you were such a sweetheart. Always following the rules. Well, compared to Eddie, at least.

But he had video proof of what you actually wanted.

How long had it been since you’d started? He hadn’t calculated it. But it was…a while. You’d been edging that pretty cunt for a long, long while. Denied and pent up. You were stronger than him. He’d be a fucking mess after a week. And there you were eating pizza and hanging out with him like nothing was going on.

Yeah, fuck watching the movie.

Eddie started it, took a bite of pizza, pulled a soft as fuck throw blanket over his lap, and draped his arm over the back of the couch. Always sat like that with you. He liked being able to steal the contact. Except since it was just the two of you, he didn't give two shits. He let his arm go entirely over your shoulders, and he leaned back into you.

He played with the strap of your shirt while the movie started.

He thought about pinning you down, flipping up your skirt, and spanking you until the movie was over. His cock throbbed. He should’ve fucking jerked it just to keep his head on straight, but he’d been too excited at the possibility that he could have something there with you. A massive mistake. Fucking atrocious.

“I have to use the bathroom, but you don’t have to pause it,” you whispered, leaning toward him.

His cock ached.

He did everything he could not to react. “Don’t mind pausing it.” He did just that. “Go ahead.”

You shrugged and shifted carefully. Moved the pillow aside and then back behind you as you stood, covering anything that could’ve been uncovered while getting up. Smart. He hated it, but whatever. He watched your hips as you strolled into your bedroom. At the sound of your bathroom door shutting, his hand was on his cock. He squeezed himself through his jeans and threw his head back.

Fuck.

Ten times, right?

He palmed himself a little, watching your door like a damn hawk.

Had to touch your pretty cunt and edge ten fucking times.

How quickly could you do that? If you kept him waiting too long, it’d be noticeable. He laughed. Shook his head. Nah. If you’d been edging yourself for as long as you’d been with the list….

Only took about two minutes.

He heard the toilet flush, the water run, and he was back to just eating pizza and sipping his beer. You came strolling out with a shy, gaze-averting look. Yeah. He gave you a playful smile and started the movie when you sat back down unencumbered.

“Don’t forget to get me the amp,” he mused, not taking his eyes off the screen. His heart was pounding. That damn amp. “Sorry my dumbass forgot to swing by yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it, Eds, really. I was busy. It slipped my mind.” All said with a smile behind that bottle of beer. All said like your pussy wasn’t aching and your ass wasn’t stuffed with a plug he really wanted to see. “It’s just needed for tomorrow, so there’s no issue.”

"Wow. (Y/N) the college graduate forgot something? Didn't think it was possible." He tapped the side of his bottle, listening to how his rings hit it. Shifted his hand up a little, then back down. He wanted to bring the bottle to your lips and make you drink until it was spilling down your chin, and then he'd lick it up. Christ. He had to get a handle on himself. “What the hell had you so preoccupied?”

Your breath caught just a little. Ha. He had you.

“Mm,” you said, so clearly stalling with a bite of pizza. “I have this thing called a job.”

Bullshit excuse. You’d been off of work when Eddie came in and found you like that. Not a thought in that pretty head but begging to cum and following the instructions on that sheet. Ha. He wanted to take his phone out, pull the video up, and ask shit is this what you do for work now?

But he didn’t. He just kept playing with the strap on your blouse until he felt goosebumps come up. Then he took to tracing his fingertips over your shoulder. From the crook of your neck down to the side of your arm. Idle, bored movements. Ones that came with the spread of his legs while he shifted back, getting cozier.

“You wound me,” Eddie mused.

You just hummed, eyes on the TV. His dropped to your chest. You were breathing pretty quickly. Steady, but quick. And the low-cut on the top was enough to do more than tease. All he had to do was brush the straps aside and he'd see your tits. He wanted to, so badly. He'd gone swimming with you so many times, and every time you strolled out in that damn bikini, he wanted to lift it, untie it, and fuck you in the back of his van.

That’d been tame to what he wanted to do now. Seeing that damn list just rewired his brain.

Halfway through the movie, you got up to use the bathroom again.

“Christ, alright,” was all he sneered.

But he paused the movie and watched you stalk off with swaying hips. He palmed his cock while waiting. It was all he could do.

He wasn’t getting too anxious when you came back. Yeah, fine, the movie was getting closer and closer to the ending. But he had a secret weapon. One he’d be an absolute ass to use. Worse than asking you to go grab something on a high shelf or pick up from the ground. This one secured your failure, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to use it.

But it was there. Just in case. Just in case he wanted to be a complete asshat.

There was still time. You still had to edge yourself in one more set. So Eddie waited. He watched. He scooted closer, nudged the strap off your shoulder, and listened to your breath hitch while he kept tracing your shoulder and arm. Nothing new, really. He was always touchy with you, whether you were alone or with others. You never told him to stop, never pulled away, never did shit to make him think he ought to stop.

So he didn’t. So…he had his backup plan loaded.

The backup plan that looked more and more likely when the credits started to roll, and Eddie hopped up to carry shit into the kitchen. You’d both cleared the six pack, so he tucked that away. He packed the pizza up into one box, watching you out of his side-eye as you disappeared into your bedroom for a second, carrying a basket of laundry you’d accidentally left on your washer. Might as well put it back.

He could’ve tried to walk in on you, but he was pretty sure you’d slipped into your closet. So he’d have to be really looking for you to do that, and he wasn’t about doing it like that. He wouldn’t give a shit if you’d done that normally.

So he slipped the pizza into the fridge and waited for you to come back out. Three for three–you’d done it. You smiled at him and strolled up to where he was leaning against your kitchen counter. That damn skirt brushed your upper thighs, and he wanted to rip it off. But he just squeezed that edge of the counter, watching you, feeling his phone weigh down his back pocket.

"You can crash on the couch if you want," you said, motioning back to it. "I know you have a weird love for it, and since you drank…." You brushed off the offer like it was nothing. But it sure as shit meant something to Eddie. Inviting him to stay? Even on your couch. You'd only ever offered it when there were others there crashing too. "What do I owe you for the pizza?"

Oh, that was Eddie’s in. That was the perfect in. He could’ve left. Could’ve just said you owed him nothing. But nope. Nope, he really, really needed to at least just see. He needed to know how sloppy your cunt was from the vibrator and he wanted to wiggle that plug until you were whining.

So. So.

He nodded and pushed up from the counter. “Just a little bit of….”

He got you at your waist. He did it rarely, but just enough that he still knew you could still screw around. Hearing your laugh was fucking music to his ears, and the added benefit of feeling you squirm in his arms was just as worthwhile. Plus….

“Oh, wait, Eds. Wait, wait,” you shrieked.

He walked you back toward the couch, fingers finding the ticklish spots on your waist. You shrieked again, laughing, reaching for his wrists. But he just walked you back, back, back. Your knees buckled. You shuddered, laughing harder as he kept it up unrelentingly, and then he just shoved. As he would've in any other circumstance–he just pushed you onto the couch playfully, and there.

There, he was a complete and utter asshole.

Legs spread, hands back to catch yourself, you landed on your ass on the couch. Bouncing. Panting. Skirt up. A long, thin pink end of the bullet slick from your cunt, your clit swollen and glistening and aching for someone to make you cum and destroy all of that hard work.

You went totally still, and your eyes went so, so wide.

“Eds,” was all you got out.

Yeah, shit. He’d fucked up. He knew. You didn’t know he knew. And you quickly shoved your skirt back down, and he had to act quick. Fuck it. He reached into his back pocket, unlocked his phone, already had the video up, and as you stood, sputtering, he shoved the phone into your hand and shoved you back down.

You went still again, watching. Your breathing was quick, your mouth was parted, and your eyes were wide. He waited. He waited for the insults. He waited for the curses. He waited to see if his attempt at reading something right was real fucking wrong, and he’d just thrown a hell of a lot away over it.

You watched every second of it. Down to when he recorded the paper. And your eyes slowly lowered. Your throat bobbed with a swallow.

“Yeah, I didn’t forget,” he breathed. Heat was on his cheeks and he knew damn well they were red. “Want your key back?”

You looked back down at his phone again. For a long while, you just scrolled through the video again. Skimming it in silence. His heart was in his ears and his stomach was as knotted as his cock was hard.

“No,” you said, but Eddie didn’t relax.

Your hand twitched, and you…. You handed him his phone back.

You hadn’t deleted the video.

“You wanna hit me?” he tried.

You shook your head. Another hard swallow brought his eyes to your throat.

He quirked a brow and nodded. Fuck. Christ. Alright. He breathed deeply. Nodded again. Okay. Just ask. Just fucking ask then. He tucked his phone away and cleared his throat, his hand shoving his bangs back awkwardly.

“Do you, uh, want me to leave?”

You squeezed your skirt and glanced at your front door. He knew that bullet was still on inside of you. Knew you were clenching around it. Making this as great as much as it sucked. He just had to wait. It sucked, but he had to.

“No,” you muttered.

Jesus fucking Christ. He strolled one step forward. Then another. He ached for a cigarette, but he sure as shit didn’t reach for one. Just…strolled up beside you and put his hands back on his hips, lolling his head while really looking at you.

“Want me to follow through with…this? With, uh, what the list said?”

A long shot that everything else was pointing a big red arrow to. He looked at you sprawled like that. Legs parted, chest heaving, nipples poking through that thin shirt, cunt aching under that skirt. You squirmed a little and didn't meet his gaze right away. He started to worry you might cry; he'd been lost in his lust, he hadn't thought that far ahead. He'd make it up to you no matter what you said. Sure as shit owed it to you.

But right then, when you looked up at him with wide eyes and a look he felt a little guilty for calling pathetic, he fucking knew.

“If I said yes?”

He crossed his arms. “I won’t say shit to anyone and won’t think a single thing of it. Just helping a friend out, right?”

You nodded. Then you nodded again. “Right. Okay then…. Okay.”

Oh, fucking hell. Eddie’s knees almost buckled. You looked up at him again, newly, differently. The woman following the list so fucking obedient was there. The you he’d seen just yesterday dripping all over your bed and begging. You slowly relaxed as much as you seemed capable of, and Eddie…. Yeah.

He nodded.

“Tell me what to do,” you breathed.

That composure in him snapped. “Flip over and get on your fucking knees.”

You screamed into the throw pillow. Your skirt was flipped up, ass in the air, and Eddie set his phone up to record. You knew he was. You had your phone recording, too. There, under his touch, he held your wrists with one hand and spanked you with his other. Harder and harder, watching your whole body jolt under the strikes.

He got to touch you. Not just fist his cock while you were there. Nah, fuck that. He got to run his fingers over your cunt, savoring every goddamn second while he rubbed them over you. Through your folds, avoiding your clit on purpose, then coming down to pull the bullet out so he could slowly push two fingers in.

He wasn’t waiting.

Yeah, fuck waiting.

You whined desperately, shaking, as he hooked you on his fingers and started a rough pace. Watching your body move with them. Watching your thighs try to close. The wet, sloppy sounds of his fingers were goddamn music. You were music. Jesus Christ. He was touching you. He was rubbing your sweet spot and fingering that pretty cunt, and he wasn’t just dreaming about it.

He pulled his fingers out and left you gaping. He spanked you again, the sound wet as his fingers cracked across your ass.

“And if I, uh, wanna put my cock in you?” he sputtered, picking up the bullet vibe and bringing it up. He held it against the end of that jeweled buttplug and pushed.

“Please.” You angled your hips back. “Please. Please. Eds, please. Fuck. I just…can’t…can’t cum. You can’t let me cum. Please.”

“Yeah. Training yourself for something?” He slid his hand back down. His fingers went over your folds again. There. Right there. Your whole body jolted when he brushed your clit. “What’d be so bad about it? You’d have to start that list over, right?”

He licked his lips while brushing the pads of his fingers over your clit. You nodded frantically. Christ, (Y/N). You tried to pull away from his touch, but he followed. The nod became a shake, and you tried to move further away.

“Eds, no, please. Please. I’m… Don’t. Please. I have just a few left. Just a few. Please…. Please.”

He pulled his finger back. The desperation in your voice. The way your cunt clenched emptily. Yeah. Yeah. He knew exactly what he was going to do. And it wasn’t nice. At all. When did he become such an ass? He only had himself to blame, but he knew it was you, too. He wouldn’t do this shit to anyone else. Not like this.

This was almost vindictive. This was fueled by possibilities and a desperation of his own. You were following that list, going around without underwear on, hanging out with him and touching yourself.

He hauled you up from the couch, arms still behind your back, took your phones into his pockets, and you both stumbled toward your bedroom. He shoved you in and grabbed you before you could fall onto your bed.

Silence. Just heavy breathing in silence as you faced each other. He didn’t say shit and neither did you. You just faced him, waiting for his next move, and, fuck it, he gave it. He put the bullet vibe in your hand, reached up, and with a hook of his fingers, the straps of your shirt were down. Down. Down.

Christ. Your tits were perfect.

He left them painfully untouched while his hands continued lower. To your skirt.

He pulled your shirt and your skirt down in one go.

“Step out of ‘em,” he whispered.

You did. He nodded.

“How many times?” he asked, stepping toward you. He palmed both tits and dipped his head. Your knees buckled when his closed his fingers around your nipples, and you fucking fell into him when he wrapped his lips around one and suckled hard. “Edging. How many times?”

“Uh, um.” You sputtered. Feeling you cling to his jacket was fucking fantastic. Maddening in all the best ways. “I…I don’t know.”

“Thirty-five, then,” he picked at random.

The way you fucking whined was bratty and he loved it. He sucked your other nipple into his mouth and pulled you closer. Naked, in his arms, shuddering pathetically. Yeah, Eddie couldn’t look your brother in the eye after this.

And the real kicker?

He lifted his head, and his nose brushed your chin first. Then his lips came to yours, just hovering. Breaths tickled. You clung to him harder, pulling him into you. Swaying. Rocking.

He cupped a cheek and reached back, groping your ass.

“And I’m fucking your ass.”

He shoved you back onto the bed and you just fucking parted your legs, nodding. You were going to actually kill him. He'd expected a no, but apparently not. Apparently, you were just pointed to the box you had hidden away, and there Eddie was, undoing his belt, unbuttoning his jeans, and undoing the zipper, and he got to see everything. The list. Every single toy you had. The remote for the bullet. The wand he wanted to tape onto you and just sit back and leave you to cum until you broke.

He took the cuffs, the lube, some nipple clamps, and the remote for the bullet.

He stayed dressed while he kneeled on your bed.

He wasn’t going to not fuck your cunt. He needed to know what you felt like. First, he cuffed your hands over your head, locked to your headboard. That was step number one. Step number two was not busting before he was inside of you. That brought him to taking really ginger movements while he rocked his cock over your cunt, nudging your clit over, and over again, making you throw your head back and whine.

“If you don’t count them, we’re starting over,” he threw out there, like he really had any control over you. One word, and it shut down. But you nodded. Jesus, you nodded!

Don’t bust. He pushed down on your lower belly. Don’t bust. He took his cock and brought the tip to your cunt. You looked at him confused, but he ignored it. Don’t fucking bust, Munson. He leaned all of his weight onto his hand on your lower belly, and slowly pushed into the warm, wet, fucking fantastic sensation that was your cunt begging and pulling him in.

He didn’t stop. He needed to. Halfway, he was shaking. He wasn’t about to be a one pump chump, but fucking hell. You felt so fucking incredible. He’d dreamt and fantasized about fucking you more times than he could count.

“Ohmygod,” you sputtered. Your eyes rolled back.

Balls deep, Eddie counted to thirty. Just thirty seconds to get his shit together. Thirty seconds to keep himself from climaxing. Thirty seconds to almost fall apart when you spasmed around him and sputtered.

“Two.”

Right, you almost came earlier.

He picked up the nipple clamps and waited for your eyes to meet. Waited until you were watching him close them around your nipples. Both peaks captured, he leaned back. Both phones were still in his pockets. Both phones came out. You chewed your bottom lip while he took his time going over you. Head to right down to where you were leaving a glistening layer on his cock.

He was going to savor this forever. Every goddamn second of it.

He pulled back slowly, getting only his camera in real close, before pushing back in just as slowly. You spasmed again. He pulled back out and rammed in harder. You pressed your head back and moaned short and sweet.

That was his limit. He jerked back out but didn’t go back in. The whine you let out was fucking fantastic, but Eddie didn’t hesitate. He had a mission to complete, and he damn well was going to.

He abandoned the phone and reached down, slowly pulling the thick plug from your ass. Christ. You writhed, practically humping the air when it was out of you. Needy. That’s what you were. Pathetically needy, and Eddie got to reap the damn rewards.

He took the lube and drizzled it over your cunt, asshole, his fingers and his cock.

“You’ll tell me if you can’t handle it?” he asked, giving you a quick look up through his lashes. He just had to make sure. You were…well, you. There was hurting you like this, then there was actually hurting you.

“Of course, Eds,” you breathed. Nodding.

He returned it. “Alright.”

He gave you two fingers first. You asshole was tight but, fuck, you took them easily. You took a third, too, panting as he pushed them in and out slowly. The thrusts got rougher gradually, but he needed to be sure. You took his pinkie, too, and there. Yeah.

He pulled them out and earned a loud gasp from you.

This would work.

Well, it’d work if he didn’t bust too quickly. But he’d hold himself together. He was going to make you think about him every time you completed something on that list. Sweet fucking Christ. He was going to infect your thoughts like you did his if he could help it.

“There we go,” he murmured, bringing his tip to your asshole. “Slow breath for me, baby.” He held you by your hips, shaking a little without meaning, and he tilted his hips to give you his tip. You gasped, writhed, pulling on the cuffs. “There we go. There we go. Yeah, baby. Holy fuck, you’re so tight. Christ.”

More. He gave you more. You took him and you fucking took him eagerly, moaning his name and nodding. It gave him a brand new fucking confidence that Eddie hadn’t expected.

“I’m keeping that video, by the way. From yesterday.” More. Deeper. You clenched. “Though I’d come in to you fucking someone, but no. Christ, no. Just you abusing this pretty cunt and, uh, what was it? Yeah.”

Balls deep. Holy…. Eddie dropped his head back and sighed. You felt…so fucking good. He almost broke there, but spite held him on. He had a plan. One he was sticking to. One that took the remote of the bullet and flicked it up to a higher setting.

One that had his chin lowering, eyes fixing on you, and the bullet in between his fingers while he dangled it over your clit.

You shook your head. You could both hear how loud it was buzzing.

“You were listening to Corroded Coffin while you were doing it.” His smile took over at your widening eyes. He reached down and parted your folds to bare your clit. Thirty-five, right? That’s what he’d said? Shit. He pushed more of his weight into you and felt you clench and clamp over his cock. You cunt leaked sadly down onto him, begging to be filled. “No fucking way you forgot I needed the amp. Not with my voice screaming in your ears.”

His heart lurched.

He gave you a pointed look, but he didn’t say it. He could be wrong, but he didn’t want you to call him on it. So he just shrugged a little, lowered the bullet to your clit, and listened to you yelp for him.

"Count them," he commanded. Like he had any authority, but he was hopped up on adrenaline.

“Three,” you cracked out immediately.

He lifted it. He rocked his hips a little, stopped, then lowered the bullet again.

Seconds. You were shaking your head after mere seconds.

“Four!”

He lifted. He fucked your ass a little harder, watching you almost fall apart as he did so.

He lowered the bullet again.

“Five. Five, Eds, please. I need more time between them. Fuck.”

He gave you ten seconds instead of five.

“Six!”

He gave you fifteen next. Still, your hips were lifting, and you were shaking your head.

“Seven, please.”

He fucked you harder, giving you that longer break, but only so he could really fuck you. Watching your tits bounce, seeing your cunt clench and clench and hopelessly clench. Your clit was swollen and aching to just have the bullet taped to it.

He slammed in harder, feeling you tense and whine. The bullet went back down again. There were tears in your eyes.

“E-Eight!”

He pinned your knees back and drilled into you. His belt clanked and hit your thighs as he did so. His balls were tight. His cock fucking loved every second of being inside of you. But he didn’t want to cum yet. Not fucking yet.

He spat down on your cunt and rubbed it in, curling his fingers into you and finding your sweet spot. Rubbing it with the pads of his fingers, he felt how badly you wanted to cum. Felt how badly you wanted him. Him!

“N-Nine–fuck.”

He pulled his fingers out and kept fucking your ass. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn’t stop. You felt so fucking good. So. Fucking. Good.

“Ten,” you cried when he brushed your clit with his fingers. Then, when he stilled his cock and brought the bullet back, “eleven!”

He gave you a longer break then, leaning over and bringing his mouth to your nipples. Undoing the clamps, he sucked them into his mouth, flicking them with his tongue, giving each lingering attention until you weren’t squeezing his cock in a chokehold.

Then–

Vibrations. Vibrations that weren’t from the bullet.

He stilled.

He picked up his phone.

He turned it toward you, and color drained from your face.

Eddie picked up the bullet and answered the call at the same time.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” Eddie said casually, hiding the breathiness in his voice.

He lowered the bullet to your clit, eyeing you carefully, and you almost kicked him.

“You grabbed the amp from my sister’s, right? I’m in the neighborhood–”

You jerked on the cuffs really hard. Eddie lifted the bullet. You mouthed twelve.

“–so if you didn’t grab it, I can. I texted her, but she isn’t answering.”

Eddie lowered the bullet. Your whole body thrashed. Your asshole clenched around his shaft and convulsed, and he nearly came.

“Oh, yeah. Your sister actually invited me over to watch Independence Day. I’m grabbing it tonight. We just got the movie on pause right now.”

He lifted the bullet. Thirteen, you mouthed, your makeup running down your cheeks. You gave him a pointed look. Far from the pathetic version of yourself from just a second ago. And Eddie smirked. He lived for this. Yeah, if your brother knew, he was a dead man. But holy fuck, this…. This was exactly what fueled him.

“Just you two?” your brother asked. “Listen, just. Alright, do I gotta say it?”

Eddie lowered the bullet again. He rubbed it back and forth over your clit. You gushed and dripped, shaking, almost sputtering. Almost. Almost. You pulled on the cuffs hard again. Audibly hard.

Fourteen, you mouthed, breathing through your teeth with some sharpness.

He waited one extra second before lifting it.

"Christ. You think everyone's out to fuck your sister," Eddie mused, catching your eye. "We're just watching a movie. I'll see you tomorrow, m'kay?"

“Fine, yeah. Just don’t forget the fucking amp.”

“I won’t forget the fucking amp.”

Eddie ended the call, showed you the screen, and before you could say anything, he rubbed the end of the bullet in circle over your clit.

“Fifteen,” you cracked out before he even really started.

“Twenty more,” he mused.

“Fuck you.” Your head fell back. “Fuck you, Eds.”

He beamed.

Yeah, you were going to remember this.

Tears. You had tears down your cheeks as you sputtered out thirty-four.

Your clit was swollen and tender. Enough so that you couldn’t take the bullet much anymore, but he still used it. Just barely brushed it against you until you sputtered and sobbed, then he lifted it. It was cruel. It was mean.

But your cunt was still leaking and you were taking his cock like it belonged to you.

If it was any consolation, Eddie was edging himself too. He was too addicted to feeling you around him. He’d cum in a second, right when you so badly wanted to, but no. You wouldn’t. Poor thing. He had heaps of recordings between your phone and his, and he was more than satisfied as he took your hips in his hands and started fucking you hard. Harder. Deeper.

Until his balls were tightening and his cock was throbbing.

He leaned over you, one hand next to your head, your eyes locked. Then he reached down, and there. With the bullet, he held it against you.

You shook your head.

He couldn’t see it. The way you clenched, the way you arched your back. Eddie was there. Fucking there. You sputtered. You pulled. You begged in broken words. He kept the bullet a little longer. Kept it right on your needy, sensitive clit until you cracked out his name in a sharp warning.

Then he tossed it aside and slammed home.

Rough.

Making your bed squeak so fucking loudly.

He came.

He spilled inside your ass hard–so fucking hard. He saw white. Felt it like he’d felt it yesterday in your room, and he let your ass milk him. Every single fucking drop. Going, thrusting, filling you up while you shook underneath him.

“Thirty-five,” you squeaked.

“Look at that,” Eddie muttered, hovering his mouth over yours. “You did it.”

Your eyes were half-lidded, and your cheeks were a teary mess. He brushed his thumb over one side, smearing the dark makeup around.

“You’re a fucking perv.” A tip of your chin brushed your mouth to his. “I didn’t think you’d fucking watch when you came in, let alone record. Thought you’d just…just look, take the amp, and then leave.”

Oh, fuck you. Yeah. Fuck it. Fuck it all. Like hell you forgot.

He nipped at your bottom lip and scoffed.

“Well, shit. I would’ve pulled that blindfold up if I’d known you were expecting me.” After his teeth, he flicked your mouth with his tongue. “You know what. I don’t think thirty-five is enough. Let’s try for fifty.”

You gave him a pleading look. "Eds–"

But his hips were already pulled back and he pressed the bullet to your clit. You seized, and Eddie crashed his lips to yours.

Fifty.

Yeah.

He’d make sure you made it.

You weren’t going to do any of this without him again. He was part of it now, and he needed to make sure you knew that. Extensively.

Maybe he’d make fifty into a hundred….

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #eddie munson smut

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wheezyreads · 30 days ago

Text

Oh this is absolutely filthy and disgusting in the best way possible

i loved every word

obedience, denial, and a dash of guilt

Brother’s BFF perv!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (Explicit NSFW) - Eddie’s POV

Synopsis: There’s an amp at your apartment that Eddie’s gotta swing by and grab. Seriously, it’s the simplest thing he’s gotta do. So, Eddie strolls into your apartment to do what should take no more than a few minutes–unless you get to talking, and talking to you was always fucking nice–to grab the amp. But…he hears something. Something that stops him in his tracks. Blood goes right to his cock and he knows he’s screwed. He should turn around and leave…right? Right??

Warnings: Eddie’s POV - Modern AU; dead dove: don’t eat - very explicit nsfw content with non-con recording & peeping tom/voyeur antics; masturbation (reader & eddie), edging & orgasm denial - the reader is following a list of gradually increasing instructions for edging over a series of weeks, explicit dirty thoughts, slight degradation in the submissive tasks on the list; clit stim, wand used, butt plug used (on reader), handcuffs, sensory deprivation - blindfold & headphones with loud music used, begging, eddie watches and records the reader without her knowing; implied from scenarios from the list: dildos used (vaginal & anal), recording yourself, no clit stim, bondage

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: This doesn’t quite fit the spooky vibes for kinktober, so I’m scrapping it for the holiday and throwing it up now :) it’s definitely a fic of all time. Have fun with this one lol. It's just eddie munson horny posting. if we want a continuation, let me know :)

In Eddie’s defense, he thought you knew he was swinging by. Your brother was supposed to tell you he was coming by to grab the amp you were holding onto for them. Maybe he’d forgotten or…or maybe you did? Eddie sure as shit didn’t know.

The second he strolled into your apartment, he was outta his mind. He saw the empty living space, heard the loud buzzing, and right when he was about to shout out to you, his throat went real tight and real dry. It couldn’t be…right? Nah. He closed the door quietly behind him, hands real tight around the keys and the knob.

It clicked shut right in time with a cry. Not a sob. Nothing of pain. But a…a cry that cracked through the air like a moan. But it wasn’t a moan. No fucking way it was. Right? Nah, it couldn’t be. You fucking knew he was coming over. Fucking knew it.

Yet there was another, high-pitched, desperate. Quick breaths that carried down the hallway. Sound he recognized real well as being pushed through teeth over and over again. Jesus Christ. Blood rushed to his cock when they continued. The sweet sound of your voice, the harsh vibrations, the fucking rhythm.

He needed to leave. Were you along? Fucking Christ, if you weren’t alone, he was going to lose it. Last he knew, you were single. He was banking off of that for a shit ton of selfish reasons, and he had a real good one for not getting his ass kicked for walking in there if you weren’t alone. But the image of you getting fucked stupid while making all those noises?

Oh, Eddie was going to either be sick or he was going to do something stupid.

But you had a real shitty bed. A real shitty bed. The kind that squeaked even when you just rolled over. There was no squeaking. Just your pretty moans and the gasps and that vibration.

Don’t do it, Munson. He angled his head to see past the corner and catch your door. You’d see him. You’d kill him. If you didn’t, your brother sure as shit would. Go. Go the fuck home, and leave the amp. Say you forgot to get it. Real fucking simple, he thought.

“Please,” you breathed. Pathetically, it came out so pathetically. “Please let me cum. Please.”

Oh, he damn near nutted. The fucking plea in your voice. The crack of it echoing out from your bedroom so clearly. Your door was open. Real open. He could fucking hear it like you were whispering it in his ear, and–

The keys slipped.

The keys slipped and he saw his life fucking flash. He was a dead man. They bounced loudly on your floor, the sound echoing, and his heart filled the sharp silence. Pummeled him like the fists he’d get the second you found out he was there. But–

He didn't move. He should've sprinted the fuck out of there, but he didn't. Cause while he stood there waiting to get caught, nothing stopped. The vibrations continued, your whines continued, and he forced himself to walk forward a step. He picked up the keys, then went forward another. Then another, his cock throbbing.

He just went to the corner.

Your door was wide open.

He fell against the corner with a hard fucking buckle of his knees, and he just felt the life drain from him. His balls tightened and his cock fucking screamed for attention. Nothing was comparable. You…so fucking unexpectedly you were there, on your bed, on your knees in nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing, except three very important things.

Handcuffs, with your hands locked behind your back.

A blindfold, nestled securely around your eyes.

Headphones, with music playing so fucking loudly that, clear as goddamn day, he could hear what you were listening to. And if this had been a gift from the universe, Eddie would’ve believed it. Like a goddamn spell he’d cast himself–he knew the song you were listening to. He fucking knew it cause he played it. Sang it. Wrote it.

And there, tying the whole scene together, was a white wand plugged into the wall across from your bed, running loudly while you lifted and lowered your hips down onto it. A few seconds, mouth parted in desperate gasps, grinding against it while your cunt dripped, then you stopped. Then you lifted, shaking, thighs quivering.

A piece of paper crinkling right near your head when you spasmed and bit your blankets.

“Fuck, please.” You pushed your hips back, giving Eddie a full view of your cunt. Swollen and dripping. Something he’d been dreaming of seeing for so fucking long. And there, right fucking there, as you trembled and squirmed, there was a red jewel just a little higher. “That’s…that’s…fuck. Fuck, that’s twenty-one.”

A pang to his chest, Eddie had a conscience. Sure as shit had one. One that said turn the fuck around, leave you to your private moment, and act like he wasn’t living his best goddamn dream. Second best. He’d be fucking you senseless right now in his perfect dream. But he couldn’t move. You were literally on perfect display for him. Naked and unaware, cunt sopping wet and making his mouth water to taste you. That tight asshole clenching around the plug.

There’s no coming back from this, Munson.

Yeah, he was a piece of shit.

Still didn’t leave.

Just felt the heat touch his cheeks, his cock twitch, and he palmed himself while watching. Up and down, gasping, starting to whimper and shake more. Your poor cunt took more and more. Twenty-one before thirty pretty damn quickly. You were making a mess on the bed, and every time you lowered yourself down onto the head of the wand, the sounds were getting wetter and wetter. But you couldn’t linger as long.

He was damn sure that if he strolled up, pulled the wand away, and gave your clit a flick, you’d burst. Burst burst. He wanted to stuff his fingers into you and fuck you until he made you literally burst. He could. He was damn confident he could while watching how sensitive you already were. Just had to get his fingers to where that sweet spot in you was–or maybe he’d fuck you hard and rough, angling so his cock kept fucking hitting it until you screamed–and that would do it.

Christ, fuck. He reached into his pocket. He had to remember this. He had to. He felt the regret. He felt the guilt. Yet you were going to cum soon, right? You were at thirty-three and you were struggling to lift yourself up from the wand now.

So, with a shaky hand, he pulled out his piece of shit phone. Held up and looked through the cracked screen at you. Felt exactly how much of a piece of shit he was, and pressed record. He staggered from the corner and stood in your doorway to get a clearer image. To…to get closer.

Maybe just a little more.

He took another step. The scent of sex and sin filled his next breath. One more. Little closer. A nice up-close shot of your cunt. He went closer. Closer. Closer.

He stood at the edge of your bed and drew his phone from your feet up to where you were drooling on your blanket. Caught the beads of sweat sprinkled across your skin. Caught the quiver in your thighs. Caught the page by your head, that he leaned over a little more to see, while you lowered that pretty cunt back to the wand and immediately lifted.

You were already at forty.

Oh, Christ. Eddie had to clench his jaw and shut his eyes.

It was a list. A training fucking list. Each one was marked off, and you were getting pretty far fucking down it. Can you survive? was the title. Started with a highlighted rule that made him fucking run a hand through his hair and bite back a full groan.

You cannot cum until the list is completed. Count each edge. Every time.

You still had just under half of the list to go.

It started pretty simply. Edge ten times. Alright. The next was the same. Edge ten times three different times today. Whatever. Okay. Keep yourself all horny and needy. Edge yourself fifteen times twice today. So be it. Wear a butt plug all day today and edge yourself fifteen times three times. Eddie was going to fall apart. Fuck and record yourself, but do not touch your clit. Do it for thirty minutes. Twice. Eddie looked at you real hard, feeling his cock ache and beg. Beg as you were into your blankets.

Edge yourself twenty times. Twice today. Do not wear underwear if you leave the house.

Eddie stepped back on autopilot. In a daze. He propped his phone up on your dresser to keep recording, and then he went back and pulled the paper, very, very carefully from where it was next to you. He stood just out of shot, but where he could still see the perfect fucking view of your cunt pressing against the wand.

Edge yourself twenty-five times. Three times today.

Strip naked, then blindfold yourself, cuff your hands, and bounce on a dildo for half an hour. Uncuff and edge twenty times each. Four times today.

Repeat yesterday. If you can, make one of the four inside your ass. If capable, you can edge yourself fifteen times for being good. If you take it all four times in your ass, you only need to edge ten times each.

Edge twenty times with a wand. Lowest setting. Three times today.

Edge twenty-five times with a wand, set up in front of a camera, lowest setting. Four times today. On your back.

Blindfold yourself, use a buttplug, then edge with a wand and fingers alternating on your clit. Thirty-five times. On your knees, ass up, presenting yourself. Three times today.

For the rest–you do not wear underwear anymore. Anywhere you go, it's bare. It's with a buttplug in. No matter what you wear for bottoms. If you wear underwear, you lose. Restart. No climaxing.

Eddie glanced up. Your thighs were quivering and not stopping. You hadn’t lowered yourself to the wand in a solid minute or so. He reached down and undid his belt. Fuck it. He couldn’t help it.

You’d been wearing jeans and shorts for the past four fucking weeks he’d seen you. No matter how goddamn hot it was, you still came out in jeans. Goddamn thick, dark jeans that the sun hated.

He palmed his cock through his boxers and fucking sighed.

Edge yourself with a wand. Blindfolded. Buttplug in. Forty-five times. Three times today.

Edge yourself with a wand. Blindfolded. Plug in. Headphones on with music. Fifty times. Three times today. Repeat the next five days.

That was one crossed off. So he went to that one right below it, hands shaking. Body shuddering. He was close to busting already. Real close.

Edge yourself with a wand, naked. Blindfolded. Handcuffed. Plug in. Headphones on, music loud. Seventy-five times. Twice. Or one hundred and ten times. Once. No pausing. Beg the entire time. If you have a ruined orgasm, you sleep with the plug in and start the list over, adding fifteen to every edge count.

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

Eddie pushed his hand under his boxers. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, closed a tight fist around his shaft, and squeezed until it hurt. Pressed his thumb to his tip, swirled the precum, and was there. Picturing you doing all of that, seeing you lower your dripping cunt back down to the wand again just to lift back up immediately? His balls went so fucking tight, and he tipped his chin down while shuddering.

The next one. The one you had to do for tomorrow.

Wildcard - pick from three options if you are brave enough.

Strip naked, tie your legs open to a chair, sit on one or two dildos (dealer's choice; sub one for the plug if using two, otherwise, use the plug), and phone an appropriate friend/romantic interest while touching yourself. Edge for all of the conversation, and then thirty times after.

Invite an appropriate friend/romantic interest over. Wear a short skirt and no bra. Use a plug and a bullet vibrator on the lowest setting. Watch a movie. Do not tell them what you are doing. Edge yourself ten times while they are over. Three times total. If you get caught and interest is reciprocated, show them the list. They have to punish you. Proceed from there. Do not cum.

If you complete either option, skip the next day as a reward.

If you do not choose either of those, option three repeats yesterday.

Add thirty to the edge count and beg until you cry.

That did it. You sobbed into your blanket, gasping as you lowered yourself back down onto the wand, humping the poor toy that’d been going for…so fucking long now. The pleasure fucking punched him. Unbearably, it just attacked. Eddie bit his lip until it hurt, thrusting one last time into his fist, and that was it. Fucking all his strength–he spilled inside his boxers.

“Fuck, please. I want to cum so badly. Please. I’ve been so good. So, so good,” you whined.

Corroded Coffin played fucking loudly through your headphones. Another song he'd written started playing. And his knees fucking buckled as he came way too fucking hard, way too fucking fast. His vision whited out. His balls ached, and the pleasure just ripped through him. Not fireworks. Not a slow eruption. It was catastrophic. He'd never cum that hard in his life, and he fucking felt tears prick his eyes.

You were sputtering out fifty-five when Eddie came to on your bedroom floor. His knees ached from where they caught him. His cock was soft, but already getting hard again. And he was at eye level with your cunt. Still dripping. Your pretty clit swollen as you pushed your hips back while whining.

There was so much he wanted to do then. He wanted to spank your ass until you came from that alone. He wanted to lean forward and lick your cunt until you squirted. Wanted to shove you back down on the wand until you came and came and came sobbing for a reprieve, only to then watch you fall apart, knowing you'd have to start the list over.

Holy fuck, he was a piece of shit.

He was the worst goddamn person in your life, and he tucked his cock away thinking that, making his legs move, making himself fucking go. He grabbed his phone, selfishly stole a real nice closeup of your cunt while your back arched real far back. Caught a glimpse of the list in the capture, so he could see exactly what you were up to. Then, tucking it back by your head how he'd found it, he was backing out of there, still watching.

Watching until the very last second.

Listening to you whine and beg and plead.

All the way, forgetting the amp, and then fucking bolting.

He was watching the video already when he climbed into his van. Watching how pretty you looked, just to make sure he got a real good shot. And he considered deleting it. He even hovered his thumb over the delete option.

But Eddie was a prick.

He ripped it out of your parking lot and sped the fuck home.

That night, he had his cock out, his phone in his hand, fucking his fist while looking at you looking so fucking perfect. Still in disbelief. It made no goddamn sense that the universe aligned itself like that. Had your brother just not fucking told you? Did you just fucking forget?

Fuck.

“Fucking hell.” He rammed his hips up and fucked his fist harder. Like he was balls deep in that pretty cunt, making you scream. Feeling you clench and gush. Just…fuck. He needed you. He needed you like he needed air to fucking breathe. And–

His phone started vibrating. Vibrating so hard he fucking dropped it.

Ringing. His phone was ringing. Fucking…. Who was calling him at midnight? Fuck. Fuck.

He squeezed the base of his shaft to delay the orgasm he’d been edging for as long as you’d been in the video, and–what the fuck. Air left his lungs. His cock twitched and throbbed. He blinked at the cracked screen, his heart in his throat, and he stared at your name across the screen.

Did you find out he’d come by? Were you about to chew him out?

He thought about letting it go to voicemail. Thought about never speaking to you again. But there was something. There was something in his chest that gnawed and told him to answer. He had to. C’mon, Munson, he thought. Fuck. Fuck it.

He took the call on the last right and brought his phone up to his ear.

“What’s up?” he asked while trying not to sound like he was jerking off to you.

“Hey, Eddie.” Christ. Your voice came through clear and…and a little nervous. A little breathy. “I know it’s late, but I figured you were up.”

His heart stuttered. “Sure as shit am.”

“Yeah.” You laughed softly. Sound of the fucking angels singing. Could’ve had a better analogy, but he was burning up and about to break down. He closed his eyes, he looked at his cock, he just saw his bullshit shame. What he’d done…. “Listen, I got Independence Day on a rental. I was wondering if you wanted to come over tomorrow night and watch it. My friends are all busy, and I know half of the guys are stuck working anyway. So. You know. Um. If you’re free?”

Eddie threw his head back and prayed to whoever could fucking hear him that he pressed the mute button. No fucking way. No fucking goddamn way. He nutted. Hard and fucking embarrassingly. Didn’t even fucking move his hand. You said the magic fucking words that made him think he’d fallen and hit his head. Invited him over for a fucking movie?

Really?

He spilled over his stomach, listening to you say his name again through his phone, his heart going fucking wild.

“Yeah.” Thank Christ, he’d muted it. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be over. Whatever. What time?”

“Nine?”

“Nine, yeah,” he breathed–panted–back. “I’ll bring some pizza and beer.”

“Great.” He could fucking hear your smile. “I’ll, uh…I’ll see you tomorrow. Oh! Oh, I definitely was supposed to see you today, by the way. I, uh, got a little held up with stuff. I need to give you an amp. So remind me tomorrow to make sure you leave with me.”

Eddie pressed his head into his pillow and almost fucking laughed.

“Oh, yeah. Forgot your brother asked me about that. Yeah, I’ll remind you if I fucking don’t forget again. See you tomorrow night.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow night, Eds.”

The call ended, and Eddie dropped his phone. The video started playing again, your sweet sounds echoing out into his room, and he fucking laughed. No fucking way. Not a chance in hell, right? Your moaning came louder. More desperate. The list crinkled in front of the camera, and he reached and paused it. Rereading it.

Invite an appropriate friend/romantic interest over. Wear a short skirt and no bra. Use a plug. A bullet vibrator on the lowest setting. Watch a movie. Do not tell them what you are doing. Edge yourself ten times while they are over. Three times. If you get caught and interest is reciprocated, show them the list. They have to punish you. Proceed from there. Do not cum.

There was…no fucking way…right?

Christ. Eddie wiped a hand over his face and groaned loudly.

But there was a chance.

Tomorrow…he could…? Fuck you. Taste you. Punish you. If it was real, if it wasn’t some fucked up coincidence. If he wasn’t just a risky choice with no sincere interest–Jesus Christ. He was going to lose his mind.

He was going to make you watch the video he’d taken while he spanked your ass until you squealed.

If you got caught, anyway.

He’d play it cool. Just in case he was wrong. He was probably wrong. But if he wasn’t–yeah. Yeah.

Your brother was going to fucking kill him, and it was going to be so fucking worth it.

Nine o’clock.

Yeah. Eddie had a lot of planning to do. Just in case.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #x reader #x fem!reader

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wheezyreads · 1 month ago

Text

a little friendly competition

best friend!eddie x fem!reader

summary: when you play games with your best friend, you win even when you lose.

wc: ~3k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, mixed POV, mutual pining, consensual voyeurism, fimasturbation, mutual masturbation, oral f!receiving, so much dirty talk, v. fingering, brief piv sex, mention of prior weed smoking, reader is still a little high so slight dubcon, big dick eddie strikes again, eddie and reader are in their 20s, friends to lovers

Your best friend Eddie was competitive by nature, and liked playing games he knew he could win.

He was always coming up with little challenges, like betting he could race you to his van or beat your high score in pinball at Palace Arcade. Back in high school, he even used to wager that he’d get a better grade on your tests in O’Donnell’s English class — something that rarely worked out in his favor, but you get the drift.

Over time the games had become a normal part of your relationship, so when you were relaxing by the Harrington’s pool after a swim one summer afternoon, you thought nothing of it when he bet that he could get upstairs and changed faster than you.

He’d been stealing glances at you all afternoon, lounging by the pool in your sinful little swimsuit. You were recently single, having just broken up with the boyfriend you’d been dating since back in high school.

Eddie had been so sick and tired of being forced to watch Brad paw all over you like you were his property. The guy was a dick, and you were so sweet and trusting that you’d put up with his bullshit for far too long.

With his sleek car and flashy clothes, Brad might have thought he was god’s gift to the women of Hawkins, but in Eddie’s opinion, he didn’t deserve a perfect angel like you.

When you’d finally come to your senses and ended the relationship, Eddie had been on top of the world. You see, he’d been patient for years, biding his time until he had a chance to get his hands on you.

He cherished your friendship, don’t get it wrong, but he was tired holding himself back from what he wanted. Playing the role of your doting best friend was getting old.

Even though you didn’t know it, you were the woman of Eddie Munson’s dreams — his fantasy girl and dearest friend rolled up into one delicious package.

And he wanted a taste.

“I bet I can race you.”

As soon as Eddie had uttered the words you’d giggled and bolted up out of your lounger, rushing inside through the Harrington’s sliding kitchen door and practically skidding on the shiny, polished wood floors.

Eddie was close on your heels and then whoops, he slid right into you, pinning you up against the wall. Everyone else was still outside frolicking in the water, so you were alone in the deserted house.

Eddie’s body was lithe but strong, with a scattering of tattoos that accentuated his smooth, pale skin. With his torso pressed flush against yours, you could feel the bulge in his shorts against the bare skin revealed by your tiny bikini.

You had been so pent up since you’d broken up with Brad that you were admittedly a bit hornier than usual, and the weed you’d smoked earlier that afternoon wasn’t helping matters at all. Even though your high had mostly worn off, a bit of that warm, fuzzy feeling still lingered, and had left you craving the comfort of someone’s touch.

Eddie was hot, you weren’t oblivious to his charms, but he was your friend which meant he was off limits.

Still, as he pushed up against you, the weight of his form against yours felt undeniably good and you found yourself grabbing onto the waistband of his swim trunks where they sat low on his slender hips. Innocently, of course, just to keep your balance.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, fluttering them in a teasingly playful way that always made him get a little pink in the cheeks.

“Hmm, that’s not fair Eddie. You can’t keep me trapped here just so you can win.” You furrowed your brow at him in jest, but kept your hands on his waistband and even wiggled your scantily clad body against his a little, causing him to groan under his breath.

You swore you could feel him getting harder in his shorts; his face was flushed and his breath became ragged, eyes heavy-lidded in that sexy way that always made your stomach flutter.

He licked his lips and tilted his head back, looking down at you over the tip of his nose. “Yeah? Then let me go.”

“You promise you won’t run ahead?” you asked, your sweet voice lilting a path straight to his cock.

“I don’t know,” he debated with a crooked grin. “That depends. Are we still playing?”

You nodded and narrowed your eyes. “Maybe I should hold onto you, so you don’t try to cheat?”

“Nah, you can trust me.” He winked. “But what do I get if I win?”

You paused to think for a moment, releasing the grip of one hand to reach up and toy with the gold chain that hung around his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed thickly.

“How about, if I win you have to do something for me. And if you win, I have to do something for you?” you finally proposed.

“What’s that include?” he asked, a throaty mumble, hips still pressed close enough that you could feel the heft of his cock. “Anything I want?”

When you nodded, he let out a wild laugh and tore off in an unexpected dash towards the staircase, and you squealed in protest, following close behind until you bumped into him just outside the guest bedroom door.

Eddie liked to win, but he’d slowed down enough to let you catch up with him. He might have been competitive but he wasn’t a fool

You grabbed onto his waistband again, squishing your breasts into his chest, your firm nipples brushing against his bare skin and making him shiver.

“You said you wouldn’t cheat. I think that means I win,” you insisted, face hovering just inches from his.

“Uh huh,” he breathed against your lips as he clumsily fiddled with the doorknob behind you, finally getting it open, then walking you backwards into the room. “Actually, I think it was a tie.”

As you moved together toward the bed, his eyes never left yours. He wanted you so badly and you could feel it.

“Okay, fine. You first,” you said softly, stepping back slightly but still leaving your hands at his waist. “What do you want, Eddie?”

He let out a low chuckle that was almost a growl, his mind greedy with so many possibilities. To finally have you there, holding onto him, looking at him the way you were, it was almost too good to be true.

Still, he wasn’t sure how far he should go. You were his friend and he didn’t want to push things too fast and scare you away. Then he got an idea.

”Well, we probably shouldn’t touch each other, right?” he asked, large eyes searching yours. “Being friends and all.”

You nodded, wide eyes earnest. “No, we definitely shouldn’t. It would be wrong.”

He leaned in closer, lips ghosting over yours, wanting so badly to kiss you, but not quite brave enough to be the one to do it first.

“But, that doesn’t mean you can’t touch yourself.”

When he stepped back to look at you, he found you flustered.

“I-I don’t do that.” You could feel your face growing hot, your eyes pleading innocence as they stared back into his.

“C’mon, you don’t really expect me to believe that? Everyone does it.” He smirked, eyes twinkling. “That was the deal. You have to do something for me…or are you too scared?”

You couldn’t help but bristle at his assumption. You weren’t afraid of anything, especially not a silly dare from your best friend.

“No, of course I’m not scared.”

His smile was infuriatingly smug. “Okay then, go ahead. Get on the bed.”

You nodded, still holding his eyes in challenge. The way he was looking at you felt electric, and you suddenly wanted to prove him wrong. Give him the best show of his life.

You climbed onto the bed, lying down on your back, head and shoulders propped up against the plush Harrington guest room pillows as he turned to shut the door. Everyone else was thankfully still outside.

When he returned to stand next to the bed, you looked up and raised your eyebrows.

“You’re not going to just stand there, are you?” you asked, feeling a bit vulnerable but also turned on at the prospect of him watching. The way he was looking down at you, all dark wolfish eyes, was making your pussy throb.

But you wanted him closer.

“I can lie down if it makes you more comfortable.” When you nodded, he crawled onto the bed next to you and sprawled on his side, eyes heavy as they raked down your body, delectable in the warm light coming through the bedroom window.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” he whispered. “Show me what you’d do.”

You nestled into the pillows a little further and closed your eyes, trying to imagine he wasn’t there and that you were alone in your bedroom with nothing but your fantasies.

You let your hand trace down your stomach until you reached your bikini bottoms, then you lightly ran a finger over the seam of your pussy through the material. “Is this what you wanted, Eddie?”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed affirmatively and you heard him let out a shaky breath.

Wanting to tease him further, you slipped your hand under the band of your bottoms and felt, with a touch of surprise, how wet you already were.

You brushed over your clit slowly with your slick fingertips and then let out an involuntary sigh.

The mattress dipped as Eddie moved a bit closer. You opened your eyes and turned your head in his direction. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, just getting a little more comfortable. Keep going, okay?”

You had closed your eyes and resumed your gentle touches when you felt him tug on the string of your bottoms to loosen them.

“This okay?” he asked, his warm breath fanning over the side of your face. His mouth was closer than you had realized and you swallowed hard as you kept moving your hand.

“Y-yes,” you sighed. When the strip of material fell away, he let out a groan.

“Shit.”

When you opened your eyes, you saw him staring down at your fingers, mesmerized as they drew slow, rhythmic circles over your clit.

You were pretty sure no one had ever looked at you with that same kind of smoldering heat. It was intoxicating — seeing the desire in his eyes.

When he finally tilted his head to look up at your face, it was like his brown eyes were melting into yours.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered, voice soft but commanding as he looked back down at your hand. “Yeah, just like that. Nice and slow. Fuck, you’re so goddamn perfect.”

He ran his hand down the fuzzy trail of hair on his stomach and over the strained front of his swim trunks, drawing your attention to their very visible bulge.

You licked your lips.

“D-do I get what I want now?” you asked, almost breathless as you squeezed your eyes shut momentarily to let out a soft whimper.

“Yeah, of course.” His voice was a hoarse whisper as he cupped his palm over the front of his shorts. “Tell me what you want me to do. Fuckin’ anything.”

Eddie would have done whatever you asked in that moment. All he knew was that he needed to feel you — to touch you and taste you. More than anything else in his life. More than he needed the air that filled his lungs.

“I-I want to watch you touch yourself too.” You gave him a naughty smile. “Want to see you, Eddie.”

It wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted to hear, but he pushed down his trunks with a sigh of relief, cock springing up and growing almost impossibly stiff as soon as he grasped it in his hand.

“You see what you do to me?” he murmured, giving himself a few slow strokes. “How hard I am for you?”

“Uh huh.” Your wide eyes were locked on where he was gripping himself above a tuft of soft, dark curls. He was deliciously thick and long, bigger than you’d imagined even in your wildest dreams — and you’d admittedly had a few of those over the years.

He squeezed himself and let out a throaty growl. “Bet you feel so fucking good. You nice and wet for me?”

You felt a flutter of excitement low in your belly at his words. Feeling brave, you used your fingers in a v-shape to spread yourself slightly so he could see the way you glistened for him.

“Mmm…you make me so wet, Eddie.”

He groaned at the sight, slowing down his strokes momentarily so he didn’t bust right then and there. “Fuck. Bet you’re real tight too. Why don’t you use one of those pretty fingers and show me.“

You did as he asked, slowly inserting a finger inside and gasping as you curled it upward.

He let out a low whimper and you could feel the vibration of the bed as he increased the pace of his hand.

“Pretend it’s mine. Tell me how tight you’re squeezing me.”

“Mmm, yeah, Eddie—so tight.”

He inhaled sharply. “Doing so fuckin’ good. Think you can take another one for me?”

You nodded against the pillow, then added a second finger and curled it forward just like the first, arching your back slightly off the bed. “Wish they were yours, Eddie. Y-yours are so much thicker. I think about them all the time.”

Your words were almost too much and he knew couldn’t last much longer. He needed more and he wasn’t above begging.

“Can I — fuck — can I eat that pretty pussy?” he choked out, not even trying to mask his desperation. “Please.”

“Hmm, I dunno,” you teased, relishing in his torment. “Friends don’t do that sort of thing, do they?”

When he let out a pathetic sound, his big brown eyes so wide and pleading, you decided to take pity on him. He was your best friend, after all.

You pulled your hand away from yourself and brought your slick, coated fingers up to his mouth. “Well, maybe just a taste.”

He parted his lips, greedily sucking your fingers between them, circling his warm tongue around your silky digits as he licked them clean.

“Do I taste good, Eddie?” you asked as you watched his pretty eyes roll into the back of his skull.

He released your fingers with a pop and let out a hum of satisfaction, hand still moving between his legs, heavy balls bouncing with each smooth flick of his wrist. “Like fuckin’ heaven. Please—wanna make you cum on my tongue.”

When you nodded, he let go of himself and eagerly moved to lie on his stomach between your parted thighs, his mouth hovering over your center, breath hot and eyes still locked on yours.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs, biceps flexing and fingers digging into your flesh as he spread you open, then let his tongue dip between your folds. He licked a few stripes up and down, moaning as your sweet arousal coated his tongue.

You ran your hands through his hair, soft curls cascading through your fingers as he hummed against you and ground his hips into the mattress.

Lost for a moment, he finally pulled back, eyes flicking up to yours as he used his fingers of one hand to spread your puffy lips, revealing your clit; the slippery, shiny jewel just begging to be licked. He attached his plush lips around the swollen bud and suckled it gently, fingers digging in firmer to hold you down as you tried to buck your hips up off the bed.

“Oh—oh my god,” you breathed as the suction of his warm mouth brought you hurtling to the edge.

He gave a harsh suck, strong enough to make a slick sound then gently shook his head, the pleasurable vibration causing you to throw yourself back against the pillows with a helpless moan. You grabbed onto his hair even harder, pulling it slightly and causing him to whine against you.

“K-keep doing that, please,” you begged and he humbly complied, continuing his assault on your clit while inserting two fingers inside you and curling them as you lifted your hips to meet his mouth in ecstasy.

You were lost, all inhibition gone, your body no more than a pulsing core of need. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and all you wanted was more. More of his mouth and his tongue and his fingers and the way they were making you feel.

“Eddie—“ you released a broken moan of his name as your climax started to build to an almost unbearable peak. But he didn’t stop. He just kept going, his rhythm never faltering as continued to work you to your high.

All you could hear was the wet suction of his mouth and his occasional groan over your breathy sighs.

When you looked down and saw him tilt his head to the side, looking up at you as his tongue flicked over your clit before reattaching his lips, your last remaining tether finally snapped. You felt the pleasure wash over you in wave after wave, filling you all the way down to the tips of your toes. You closed your eyes and cried out his name. Not caring if anyone overheard you.

When you gently nudged at his head, he pulled back breathless, lips shiny and swollen, pink and almost impossibly full. He kissed your inner thigh tenderly, his faint stubble causing you to giggle from how it tickled the sensitive skin.

Then he rolled onto his side, shuffling so that he was lying next to you on the bed.

He was still hard and you could feel his erection pressing firm and hot into your side. You suddenly wanted to have him closer, inside you, more than anything you’d ever wanted before.

“I bet you can’t make me cum again,” you whispered, lips curling into a grin as you let a hand trail down his heaving chest. “Bet you can’t fuck me until I’m screaming your name.”

His eyebrows perked up as he watched you untie the top of your bikini and throw it to the floor. If Eddie was one thing, he was competitive by nature.

Wearing a cocky smirk, he crawled over top of you, hovering on one arm as he lined his leaking cock up with your entrance. Then he let out a deep sigh of relief as he finally let himself sink deep inside what he’d wanted for so, so long.

You see, Eddie liked playing games with you that he knew he could win.

Thank you for reading! ☀️

Eddie tag list: @mrsjellymunson @madelynraemunson @hippiegoth97 @princesssunderworld @kellsck @theold-ultraviolence @hiimjulie

dividers by @strangergraphics

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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wheezyreads · 1 month ago

Text

oh he is so annoying, i love him

💌 you've got the hots for your best friend in lulu! invincible. 2021. ────── bff!mark x reader. cw: just mark being cunty 💔💔💔 save us all

"do you feel bonita, mark?" you tease, leaning on the wall beside the wooden changeroom door. you look up, mark's name scrawled on the whiteboard hanging on the front of the door. his penmanship is barely legible, trailing off into a happy face at the end.

"i feel very bonita," he laughs, a breathy sound that sounds exasperated and humored at the same time. "if it weren't—" you hear the rustling of fabric and then a cough of surprise, "— ninety-eight dollars— jesus, how is your wardrobe stocked with this brand— i would buy it."

you raise your eyebrows, "high praise, coming from you."

"what's that supposed to mean?" mark squawks, exaggeratingly offended.

"i haven't seen you wear something decent since my princess birthday party days," you say.

"that was like when you were like, six," mark says.

"hence my point."

despite there being a door between the two of you, you can sense he rolls his eyes. "okay, first off," he starts. "my prince eric costume was amazing. second, i do own a suit."

"have you worn it?" you raise an eyebrow.

he stammers a bit, "well, no, not recently, but i do pla—"

you wave your hand dismissively, rolling your eyes. you tip your hand back and rap your knuckles against the door. "just admit i'm right. and hurry up, i'm hungry."

"yeah, yeah, i'm coming," mark mumbles. you step back from the wall as the doorknob twists.

mark tucks one of his hands in his khakis (which he pulls off annoyingly well), as the other scratches the back of his neck and trails down to the collar of the dress shirt he's wearing. he bounces on the balls of his feet; once, curt, anxious, and smiles sheepishly. "so? how do i look?"

you blink. the navy fabric hugs his skin, wrapped around his toned abdomen and bringing out the dark brown of his eyes. his peachy skin looked like seafoam against the deep blue, khaki pants balancing out the whole color scheme. mark was a perfect equilibrium, and you'd never seen anything more handsome.

"um, wow," you mutter, a smile peeling its way onto your lips as your eyes trail down to his chest. it's like the shirt was saying, you've done good, soldier. have some pectorals. you reach up, fiddling with his collar. it wasn't messed up, you just wanted an excuse to be close to him. your fingers brushed against his shoulder, rubbing off imaginary lint.

mark chuckled softly, "is that a good 'um, wow' or a bad one?"

"a good one," you laugh, finally lifting your fingers off his shoulder. "i like it. goes well with your undertones."

"i have no idea what that means, but thank you." he says sheepishly.

you smile. you'd always thought mark was cute, in a 'boy next door' or 'disney channel best friend' kind of way. but as the two of you got older and mark grew into his growth spurts, you'd certainly... noticed. it wasn't weird, or a thing that needed to be pointed out but it was definitely there.

your fingers reach out and tug on the end of the short sleeves that draped awkwardly over his arm. "these are a bit baggy, though," you murmur, more to yourself than anyone. "looks kinda awkward."

mark bites the inside of his cheek, "mm, this better?" he makes a fist and flexes his arm, and his biceps swell with a grace that makes your eyes widen. your cheeks flush as his bicep fills out the empty space left in the sleeve, staring for a good few seconds before coughing lightly.

"yeah—" you cough into your hand, "yeah. yeah, um. yeah, that works."

#mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson

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wheezyreads · 2 months ago

Text

no cause getting ignored by Bob would’ve gotten me like:

the popcorn incident (r.r.)

synopsis : You hate Bob Reynolds. Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself — ever since he pulled away and got closer to Yelena. Now you spend most of your time ranting about him to Bucky…

Meanwhile, Bob spends most of his time avoiding you. (Because he’s pretty sure you like Bucky. And he’s very sure he’s in love with you.)

pairing : robert 'bob' reynolds x reader / sentry x reader

content : pure fluff (again lol don't hate me on this), slight enemiestolovers!au , friendstolovers!au , jealous!bobreynolds

warning/s : kinda cheesy idk

word count : 4.6k

⋆˙⟡

You hate Bob Reynolds.

You hate the way he walks into a room and won’t look at you. You hate the way his eyes flicker toward you when he thinks you’re not watching. You hate how he always chooses the furthest seat from yours now, even though (once) you were the person he chose first.

And worst of all?

You hate how much you still want him to come sit next to you.

The common room smells like popcorn and vaguely burnt pizza. Ava’s cracked the windows again, letting in the cool night air from the New York sky outside. Dim overhead bulbs cast the room in warm yellow light that barely competes with the flickering horror movie on screen.

Yelena is curled on a beanbag chair with her legs tucked under her like a smug cat, hoodie two sizes too big. John’s hogging the recliner, a beer in one hand and his dumb Stars-and-Stripes socks visible from where his boots sit discarded nearby. Ava’s lounging in the corner with a bowl of gummy worms and a knowing smirk.

You walk in behind Bucky, both of you still talking about a mission briefing that had somehow turned into a discussion about raccoons with knives.

“Do not pretend a raccoon could take you down,” you mutter as Bucky snorts.

“I’m just saying, it’s more dangerous than you think,” Bucky deadpans. “Especially with a butter knife.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

He shrugs. “I’m not the one who got chased through a compound last week by a genetically engineered goose.”

“That goose had rage in its soul,” you hiss, before realizing the entire room is listening. Yelena snorts into her sleeve. Ava just shakes her head.

You clear your throat, cheeks warm. Your eyes instinctively scan the room—and stop.

There. Couch. Right side.

Bob.

He’s sitting low, one leg crossed over the other knee, navy-blue sweater sleeves bunched up his forearms. His posture is slouched, but his eyes are sharp, focused on the screen, until you catch the briefest glance your way.

Your stomach tightens.

He looks back at the screen before you can even smile.

You hesitate, then move toward the couch. The big popcorn bowl is balanced between him and Bucky. You think about sitting next to Bob, think about all the nights you used to sit shoulder to shoulder, knees brushing, fingers grazing accidentally over the same handful of popcorn.

Maybe you can fix this. Maybe he’ll say something. Maybe this silence he’s been giving you for weeks will finally end.

You hover by the bowl. “Hey,” you say, careful and light. “Can I grab some?”

Bob doesn’t look at you. His hand tenses slightly on the bowl’s rim. He shifts it toward you in silence.

Your fingers brush his.

He pulls back like he’s touched a hot stove.

You feel it like a slap.

You grab the popcorn, mutter a stiff, “Thanks,” and move to sit next to Bucky instead.

Bucky shifts slightly to give you room. You slump beside him, chewing angrily.

“Well that was painful,” Bucky mutters under his breath.

You don’t respond.

“He flinched,” Bucky continues, almost in awe. “Like your fingers were poison.”

You keep your eyes on the screen. “Maybe they are.”

“Strike four,” he whispers.

You glance at him. “You’ve been keeping count?”

“Of every tragic interaction, yes.”

You throw a kernel of popcorn at him. He catches it mid-air.

You lean in slightly, voice low. “Do you think he’s mad at me?”

“I think he’s a dumbass.”

You smile, but it’s hollow.

“I just—don’t get it. We used to talk. Like… a lot. He used to laugh at my dumb jokes. Now he acts like I stole his dog.”

“Maybe you did.”

You blink. “What?”

“Maybe you stole his metaphorical dog.”

You stare at him. “That’s the worst theory I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s still better than yours,” Bucky mutters.

From across the couch, you feel Bob shift. You glance—he’s still watching the screen, but his fingers have stopped moving. The popcorn bowl rests untouched now, perfectly still in his lap.

The movie flickers into a tense silence.

Then John, voice flat, says, “Can the lovebirds quiet down?”

Your entire spine stiffens.

“Excuse me?” you hiss.

“Shh,” John says, not even turning.

You stare ahead, cheeks burning. Bucky looks halfway between smug and offended.

“Lovebirds,” he whispers, amused.

“Don’t even—”

“I mean, if the shoe fits…”

You elbow him sharply. “I hate you.”

“You don’t,” he says, still smiling.

You risk another glance toward Bob.

His jaw is tight. His eyes are still on the screen. But there’s a twitch in his cheek. The kind he gets when something’s bothering him.

He doesn’t look at you.

You look away first.

⋆˙⟡

The meeting room is too cold.

The A/C’s on full blast, humming above the fluorescent lights. You swear Val keeps it that way just to remind you she’s in charge of everything—including your blood circulation.

You’re running late.

You shove the door open with a muttered apology, the metal creaking slightly, and step inside—boots still muddy from training. Your hair’s barely dry from your post-mission shower, damp strands sticking to your neck. You tug at the collar of your jacket, feeling both underdressed and overstimulated.

Everyone’s already seated.

Yelena’s halfway through a protein bar and somehow still managing to lounge in a government-grade steel chair like it’s a beanbag. Ava’s scrolling her tablet, boots on the table despite multiple prior threats from Val. Walker’s twirling a pen and looking like he’s about to make a comment no one asked for.

Then your eyes land on him.

Bob.

Second from the right. Notebook closed in front of him. Shoulders hunched slightly like he’s trying to make himself smaller, or maybe disappear altogether.

Two empty chairs beside him.

You hesitate.

The little voice in your head—the one that’s gotten crueler lately—says, Don’t bother. But you ignore it.

You step around the table, slow but deliberate.

Your pulse kicks up as you approach. You wonder—stupidly, hopefully—if maybe this is the moment. Maybe today, he’ll look up. Maybe he’ll say “Hey,” like he used to, voice low and warm. Maybe you’ll sit beside him and feel something like before.

You stop beside the chair next to him.

Bob looks up.

Your breath catches.

And then—

He blinks. His mouth twitches. Not a smile. Not even close.

He closes his notebook.

And he stands.

Your eyes widen. He murmurs something to Yelena—too low for you to hear—but she raises one eyebrow and gives him a look that says Seriously? Bob says nothing else. He walks around the back of the table, silent and swift, and drops into a chair across the room.

Your throat tightens.

You sit down heavily in the now-empty chair next to Bucky.

“Wow,” Bucky mutters, barely audible. “That was… something.”

You just shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “What the hell was that?”

Bucky leans in. “He looked like you were holding a knife.”

“Maybe I should start holding one.”

Val walks in, clapping her hands once. “Alright, Thunderbolts. Everyone awake? Good. Let’s make this quick. I’ve got meetings stacked higher than Walker’s ego.”

Walker scoffs. “Hilarious.”

“Quiet, star-spangled disaster,” Val says dryly.

You try to focus. Val drones on about the last mission—errors, improvements, recon notes. Words blur into static.

Bob doesn’t look at you. Not once.

You glance at him—he’s leaning back, hands clasped in his lap, eyes fixed on the slide deck like it owes him something. He’s not scribbling notes like he usually does. He’s not twirling his pen. He’s not moving.

You grit your teeth and turn to Bucky.

“He’s ignoring me again.”

Bucky side-eyes you. “We’re mid-briefing.”

“I’m going to strangle him with his own hoodie.”

“That’s dramatic. Effective, though.”

Val clicks to the next slide.

You whisper, “Why is he like this? He used to talk to me.”

“Used to eat lunch with you too,” Bucky murmurs. “Used to laugh.”

“I know that.”

“And now he’s pretending you don’t exist.”

“Exactly!”

“You think maybe… that’s the opposite of what’s happening?”

You blink. “What?”

Bucky just smirks.

Then—

Val slaps a hand on the table. “Hey. Lovebirds. Try keeping the domestic bickering to a whisper?”

Your soul leaves your body.

You blink. “I’m sorry—what?”

Walker snorts. Ava doesn’t even look up from her tablet.

Val waves a hand. “Whatever. Just pay attention. I’m not repeating myself for your unresolved sexual tension.”

The room falls quiet.

Bucky leans into his hand, elbow on the table. “I think we’ve just been outed.”

You bury your face in your hands. “This is a nightmare.”

You chance a glance at Bob.

He hasn’t moved.

He’s staring at the table. Not at you. But his knuckles are white where they rest on his knee.

You’re too stunned to say anything.

The rest of the debrief is a blur.

⋆˙⟡

The training room smells like rubber mats and frustration.

Sweat beads at the back of your neck as you pace toward the punching dummies, your left ankle throbbing with every step. You rolled it bad—stupidly—during a dodging drill with Ava and Walker. You’d laughed it off at the time, brushing dirt off your shoulder like it was nothing.

But now that the adrenaline’s fading, it hurts.

The sun’s just beginning to dip behind the compound’s reinforced windows, casting the entire gym in a low, orange haze. Yelena is by the far wall, throwing knives at a wooden dummy’s face like she’s flirting with murder. Ava’s perched on a bench with her headphones in, scrolling through footage on her tablet. Walker’s long gone, probably off to inflate his ego somewhere else.

And there’s Bob. Across the room.

He’s standing by the free weights, curling a bar like it weighs nothing. His hair’s damp at the edges, sticking slightly to his temples. He’s in his navy long-sleeve again—his favorite, the one that’s worn thin at the elbows. His eyes flick toward you as you limp slightly past.

Your breath catches.

It’s the first time he’s looked at you today.

You feel it. That familiar flutter in your chest that you keep trying to kill.

You open your mouth—to say anything—but hesitate. He looks like he might say something, too. Like he’s going to take a step forward. His fingers twitch slightly against the bar.

And then you hear it:

“You alright?”

You turn.

Bucky’s walking over from the hallway, towel slung around his shoulders, brow furrowed as he catches your limp.

“Oh. Yeah. Just twisted it earlier. It’s not bad.” You wave a hand like that makes it true.

“Let me see,” he says, already crouching down beside the bench. “Sit.”

You hesitate. “I was gonna—” You glance back toward Bob.

But he’s still standing there. Still watching. Frozen in place.

Whatever he was going to say—if he was going to say it—dies.

He takes one slow step back.

You sigh, quietly, and sit down beside Bucky instead.

He pulls your boot off gently, inspecting the swollen ankle.

You wince. “I’ve had worse.”

“Doesn’t mean you should ignore it.” Bucky digs in a nearby locker for an ice pack. “You planning on training through this like a moron, or letting me tape it?”

You roll your eyes, but smile. “Fine. Doctor Barnes.”

“I’ll add that to the list of titles I never asked for.”

Across the room, Bob hasn’t moved.

His jaw’s tight. His hands open and close once, then again. He watches the two of you quietly, unreadable.

He takes a breath, like he’s about to come over anyway.

But Yelena appears behind him without warning. “You’re glaring again,” she mutters.

Bob startles, just barely. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I wasn’t—” He glances over at you and Bucky. Bucky’s crouched now, wrapping your ankle in gauze, your hand on his shoulder to keep balance. You laugh at something he says.

Bob turns away.

Yelena raises an eyebrow. “You gonna keep lying or just explode already?”

“Shut up,” Bob mutters.

“Sure,” she says, biting into an energy bar. “Just let me know when you’re done pining like a 17-year-old Victorian widow.”

He shoots her a look, but she’s already walking away.

He turns back toward you, just in time to see you toss Bucky an appreciative smile and say, “Thanks, Buck.”

And then you’re gone—hobbling off toward the lockers with Bucky trailing beside you.

Bob stares at the door long after you’ve disappeared.

⋆˙⟡

Bob’s hands have been sitting still for too long.

One of them rests on the disassembled sidearm laid out in front of him, the other curled tight against his jaw as he leans on the table. His brow is furrowed. His brain hasn’t registered a single thing in the last fifteen minutes. The room is quiet, except for the distant hum of the overhead lights and the occasional thud of Yelena dropping gear somewhere behind him.

He stares at the gun like it’ll reassemble his thoughts for him.

“You’re sulking again,” comes her voice, sharp and dry as vodka.

He doesn’t look up. “I’m not.”

“You’re brooding in the dark, surrounded by dangerous objects,” she replies, stepping closer and leaning against the metal counter with a crunch of her granola bar. “That’s called sulking, Bob.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

He exhales, long and slow. “I’m just… thinking.”

“About her?” Yelena chews. “Or are we pretending you don’t do that every three hours?”

He doesn’t answer. Just picks up a screwdriver, flips it once in his palm, then puts it back down like it’s too heavy to hold.

She softens a little. “What happened this time?”

He doesn’t know where to start. He could say, I saw her ankle give out and didn’t move fast enough. Or maybe, I saw her smile at Bucky again and it felt like a kick to the ribs. But none of that explains how badly he wants to rewind everything. Go back to when you used to wait for him after missions. When you’d lean on his shoulder while teasing Walker or smirking at Yelena like you were in on some inside joke Bob would never understand.

He remembers the sound of your laugh. That full-bodied, uncaring laugh that only came out when you felt safe. You used to laugh like that around him.

“I think she hates me,” he says eventually, voice low.

“She doesn’t,” Yelena says without hesitation.

“She used to talk to me,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “Every day. About random stuff—TV shows, your neighbor’s dog, the vending machine being rigged. And I was stupid enough to think it would last.”

Yelena quirks an eyebrow. “What changed?”

“I did.”

And he did. Somewhere in the space between trusting you and falling for you, he got weird. He started pulling back, dodging eye contact, brushing off conversations before they could start. He didn’t know how to handle it—how to want you without scaring you away.

So instead, he scared himself into silence.

You’d walked into the common room that night with Bucky at your side, your laugh trailing behind you like perfume. You were trying to get popcorn—just a normal thing—but then your hand brushed his and his whole body tensed like he’d touched fire. He pulled back before he even thought about it.

Your smile faded so fast it made his stomach turn.

He should’ve said something. Sorry. I didn’t mean to—

But instead, he just froze, watching you walk away, bowl in hand, settling on the couch next to Bucky like that was where you belonged now.

He couldn’t focus on the movie. He couldn’t even hear it over the pounding in his ears. Every time you leaned into Bucky’s side, something bitter tightened in his throat. You didn’t even look his way after that. Why would you?

He hadn’t just pulled away. He’d disappeared.

Yelena watches him quietly now, like she knows where his mind is drifting. “Did something else happen?”

He nods. “Debrief, a few days ago.”

She waits.

“I walked in and saw her scanning the room,” he says. “She looked like she was gonna sit next to me. She almost did. But I… I moved.”

“You ran.”

He winces. “Walked. Quickly. To the other side of the table.”

“Coward.”

“I know.” He leans back, eyes flicking to the ceiling. “I couldn’t do it. I was going to say hi. Ask about her shoulder—she took a hit on the last mission—but I panicked.”

Yelena hums in that way she does when she’s judging him quietly.

“She sat next to Bucky instead. Again,” Bob adds, bitterness creeping into his voice. “They were whispering to each other, laughing during Val’s rundown, and then Val says—” His voice shifts, mocking: “‘Can the lovebirds pay attention?’”

Yelena snorts.

“She didn’t deny it,” Bob says quickly, like he needs her to know this part. “Didn’t laugh, didn’t say, we’re not a thing. Just turned red and glared at Val, like it was a thing and she was embarrassed about it.”

Yelena doesn’t answer right away.

Bob lets his head drop forward into his hands. “I know it sounds stupid. It is stupid. But I keep seeing them together, and it’s not just the proximity. It’s the way she looks at him. Talks to him.”

“You mean the way she used to talk to you?"

He goes still.

Yelena softens, voice less teasing. “Bob… maybe she’s just trying to fill the space you left.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

Then yesterday happened.

He saw you limp into the gym and his entire nervous system lit up. You were trying to play it cool, but he knew that look—you were in pain and trying not to show it.

He took one step forward, almost called your name.

But Bucky beat him to it.

Hey, you alright?

Bob watched, rooted in place, as you let Bucky guide you to the bench. Watched you let him take off your boot. Wrap your ankle. You laughed at something he said again, that same sound Bob used to hear on accident—when you were scrolling your phone on the couch beside him, or teasing him over his “weird cult-leader” handwriting.

Bob’s hands had clenched. His chest felt hollow.

And still, he hadn’t moved.

“Every time I try to fix it, I mess it up more,” he says now, his voice ragged with frustration. “And every time I don’t fix it, I lose her a little more.”

Yelena tosses her granola wrapper in the bin. “So what, you’re just going to keep watching her from across the room like some tragic Regency novel?”

Bob glares weakly. “I just… I don’t know what she wants anymore.”

“Well,” Yelena stands, dusting off her pants. “Maybe she doesn’t either. You’ve given her nothing to work with.”

He swallows.

She’s right.

He remembers the way you used to look at him—eyes full of challenge, of trust. You don’t look at him like that anymore.

Now, when you glance his way, there’s hurt in your eyes. And confusion. And maybe—just maybe—a little hope you haven’t managed to kill off completely.

Bob wants to believe it isn’t too late.

But he also knows he’s running out of chances to find out.

⋆˙⟡

The med bay is quiet except for the gentle whir of the portable stim unit on your ankle. You should be focusing on your recovery, on resting, but your mind’s pacing in circles. Restless. It’s been days since the last mission. Days since you sprained your ankle and Bob almost helped you.

Almost.

The sound of that one step he took toward you is burned into your skull. You heard it. Saw the flicker of concern in his expression. The way he looked like he might finally say something. But he didn’t. Again.

Instead, Bucky helped you. Like he always does.

And maybe you’re just exhausted—mentally, emotionally, physically—but tonight, as the pain pulses dully through your foot and frustration simmers in your chest, you decide you’ve had enough.

You’re done letting Bob hide behind silence.

You leave the med bay the moment your foot can bear weight and stalk the halls with too much purpose for someone supposed to be recovering. You know exactly where he’ll be. The observation deck. He always retreats there after missions, like he’s hoping the stars will answer something the rest of you can’t.

Sure enough, you spot him through the glass, silhouetted in the cool blue glow of the night sky beyond. Hood up. Shoulders hunched. Like the world’s sitting on his back.

He doesn’t hear you enter. Or maybe he does and chooses not to turn.

You stop a few feet behind him.

“Why do you keep avoiding me?”

His shoulders stiffen.

No greeting. No pleasantries. You don’t have the patience for any of it.

He doesn’t turn.

You take another step closer. “Seriously, Bob. What the hell did I do to make you act like I’m some kind of ghost?”

Nothing.

You force a breath. Your voice cracks. “You used to be my best friend.”

That finally gets him. Slowly, he turns, the hood dropping back just enough to let you see the guilt carved into his features. He looks tired. Paler than usual. And yet somehow still impossible to read.

“I’m not avoiding you,” he says, too quiet to be convincing.

You scoff. “Bullshit. You can’t even look me in the eye anymore. I try to talk to you, you bolt. I reach for the popcorn and you practically teleport away. You leave the room when I sit down. You change training shifts to avoid me.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to, or you didn’t want to be around me?”

He winces. His mouth opens like he wants to explain. But nothing comes out.

You hate how much it hurts.

“Do you hate me now?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He jolts. “What?”

“Just tell me,” you snap, covering your pain with anger. “If I did something wrong—if I messed this up somehow—just say it.”

“You didn’t,” he says, fast, desperate. “You didn’t mess anything up.”

“Then why?” You’re breathing harder now. “Why did you just… drop me? You let me think I was crazy for feeling the distance when you were the one building it!”

“I had to,” he mutters.

You step closer. “Why?”

He shakes his head. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s not. You either care or you don’t.”

“I do care,” he blurts, suddenly louder, voice cracking like thunder off the glass.

Silence falls between you. Heavy. Fragile.

You blink. “Then why do you treat me like I don’t exist?”

Bob runs both hands through his hair, pacing away from you, then back, like he’s coming apart.

“Because it’s easier than wanting something I can’t have,” he finally breathes.

You stare.

He exhales like he’s been holding that in for months. “You and Bucky… I see the way you look at him. I hear the way you talk to him. I thought maybe if I backed off, I could deal with it. But every time I see you with him, it’s like my ribs are caving in.”

You’re stunned.

“Bob—”

“And then Val calls you ‘lovebirds,’ and you don’t deny it. You blushed. I thought…” He trails off, swallowing hard. “I thought I missed my chance. That I’d already messed it up. And if I couldn’t be what you wanted, the least I could do was get out of your way.”

Your voice comes out gentler. “You thought I was with Bucky?”

“Aren’t you?”

You stare at him. “No. Of course not.”

He blinks. “But you’re always with him. Laughing. Whispering. You lean on him.”

“Because he listens. Because you wouldn’t.”

“I was trying to protect myself.”

“And I was trying to understand why the person I care about most started treating me like a stranger!”

That lands like a punch. Bob’s shoulders sag. He looks like he’s about to fold in on himself.

You step forward. Hesitate. Then place a hand on his chest—just over his heart.

“You idiot,” you whisper. “You really thought I wanted Bucky?”

Bob doesn’t answer. His eyes are wide, vulnerable. Your touch stills him completely.

“I wanted you.” You say it quietly. Gently. Like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

He exhales shakily. His hands twitch at his sides, then lift—hesitant, slow—as if he’s terrified touching you might break the moment.

But when he finally presses his palm over yours, the tension breaks.

Neither of you says a word for a long time.

Then, finally, he leans forward, forehead resting against yours, breath shallow.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

You close your eyes.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

His breath hitches. “I never stopped.”

⋆˙⟡

You weren’t planning on sitting next to him. Not really. You told yourself you’d play it cool. Casual. Normal. You were going to walk in, nod politely, and take your usual spot next to Bucky like the last three weeks.

But tonight… you hesitate at the door.

Bob’s already there. Hood down, for once. Jacket draped over the back of the couch. He’s wearing that old faded band tee you once teased him about—the one you said made him look like a roadie, not a superhero. And he’s looking around the room like he’s searching for something.

For someone.

Your pulse kicks up.

Yelena’s on the far couch, legs tucked under her, already spoon-deep into a pint of ice cream. John’s half asleep in the armchair with a beer balanced precariously on his thigh. Ava is floating just above the beanbag pile, watching the screen like she’s trying to decipher code. Bucky’s leaning against the back wall with crossed arms, waiting to see where you sit before he picks a seat.

And Bob… Bob catches your eye and doesn’t look away.

Not for a second.

It’s nothing like before.

There’s no flinching. No retreat. Just that soft, unsure gravity you’d missed so badly.

Your feet move before you think about it. You take the empty spot beside him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It feels terrifying.

And then Bob shifts, ever so slightly, to give you more space. Or maybe to meet you halfway. His thigh brushes yours. He doesn’t pull back.

You glance sideways. His fingers twitch against the blanket on his lap.

Yelena lets out an exaggerated gasp.

“Oh my God.”

You freeze.

John jerks upright. “What?”

Bucky just huffs a quiet chuckle and takes the nearest beanbag. “Took them long enough.”

You blink. “What are you—”

“Oh, please,” Yelena drawls. “This has been a six-act drama and we’re finally at the resolution. Do not deny me this.”

Bob lets out a groan and sinks lower into the couch.

Val, from somewhere in the hallway, calls out without even looking in: “If anyone makes out during the opening credits, I’m kicking you off the mission roster.”

You bury your face in your hands.

Bob coughs into a laugh beside you.

Bucky leans over and mutters, “So, when’s the wedding?”

You elbow him, face burning.

Bob’s hand brushes yours—light, hesitant—and then doesn’t move. Fingers barely touching. Like a promise he’s still too shy to make out loud.

The movie starts. Everyone settles.

You stay exactly where you are, shoulder to shoulder with the man you thought you lost. The man who is still here.

And even with the teasing, the knowing glances, and the smug looks from across the room—you’re smiling.

Finally.

⋆˙⟡

A/N : another blurb before i do a request and continue finishing psyche 3 (i just have no creative juice to squeeze anymore)

A/N 2 : i love bob so much i want to write him in every trope there is LMAOO

A/N 3 : bucky barnes one shot, anyone? non-smut because i physically cannot bring myself to write smut i get very uncomfortable while writing and they end up being SO BAD

#bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader

3K notes · View notes

wheezyreads · 2 months ago

Text

um. im having many thoughts

0 of them pure

gosh imagine the sex after she finds out he’s invincible… mmmmm the suit stays ON

(this was great amazing perfect got me kicking my feet and rubbing my thighs together mhm)

# — calling mark grayson "small."

got fried as fuck and this shit came to me like a prophecy. a dream. i know i have my to-do list, but it’s hard for me to write stuff i’m no longer in the exact headspace for. like, i need to wait until i can get into it enough to feel it the way i did when i first thought of it. anyways, this is set in a universe that’s pretty canon-compliant: mark and amber broke up, but he hasn’t dropped out of college (yet) or ended up with eve. you also have no clue he’s invincible, just that he’s had a glow up and your cute, dorky friend from high school is now fine as shit. i also listened to “party favors” by leon thomas and big sean the entire time i worked on this.

lastly, i'd like to give a humongous shoutout to @omniphilic for beta-reading this monster for me! much love, sunshine, and godspeed, my children. enjoy! | wc: 7.9k words.

cw: nsfw mdni (18+), afab!reader, a lot of porn with a lot of plot, light angst, confessions, banter, friends-to-lovers, mentions of amber (i love you girl but it’s so easy to use you as a plot device </3), oral sex (f!recieving), explicit sex (p in v), missionary, squirting, dirty talk, praise, soft!dom mark, consider this my apology for the hurt/very little comfort v!card mark x reader fic <3

thinking about you joking around with mark grayson and calling him… small. you know where.

it sounds like such a silly scenario, but walk w/ me: you and mark have an… odd friendship. looking back on it, you two were an unlikelier pair than winning the lottery. you’re from completely different worlds– you were more on the straight and narrow: the academic side of things. all you did was bust your ass, and you had plenty to show for it– friends, awards, this air of recognition that followed you from classroom to classroom.

and mark? well, he fell more into the category of incredibly average. average grades, average social life, even an average reputation amongst the student body– the kind that makes you easy to remember and always gets you labeled as a “pretty cool guy,” but keeps you out of any real trouble. maybe that’s part of his charm– the fact that everything about him is initially so unassuming, so run of the mill that you don’t even think twice. not until you start to get to know him.

there’s plenty that sticks out once you get to know him.

then, somehow, at the start of your senior year, you two ended up partnered together for a project in the same upper-level english class. y’know, the college freshman one everyone takes because it’s a cheap credit, regardless of if they’re going to harvard to study law, or to the local community college to save a bit of money. neither of you had many expectations, but you and mark became fast friends. mark’s awkward charm grew on you, and he already had a decent opinion of you from seeing you around, but finally being in a situation where he could talk to you and not feel like a nuisance only made him think of you more highly than before. you were cool as shit; he has no idea how you two hadn’t spoken sooner.

but it’s no surprise that you two absolutely nailed the project. with your smarts and mark’s willingness to learn, the grade on it ended up being so good that it made you jump into mark’s arms out of pure excitement. mark caught you effortlessly, spinning you around and giggling alongside you without a second thought. the intimacy of such a reaction didn’t dawn on you two until long after he set you down, you grinning giddily in his face, while he could do nothing but grin back.

that’s how you ended up here– lying in mark’s bed, long after graduation, and visiting home from campus on a long weekend. you’re wearing one of his t-shirts and reading one of his copies of seance dog as he works on a paper. when you found out you two would be attending the same university, you were more than stoked. mark was stoked too, but he was so sure you could’ve gotten into one of chicago’s finest, or, better yet, move away from illinois entirely, rather than attend upstate university. he gave you a hesitant look when you said you were more than content with your choice, saying that a degree is a degree no matter where you went and that as long as you could be with mark, it would be worth it. deep down, though, mark swore something bloomed in his chest that day. he doesn’t really know what that feeling was– is, to be more accurate, because he still feels it sometimes– but that’s the least of his worries.

his main worry is getting this paper in by 11:59 pm tonight.

and just like that, the rhythmic clacking of mark’s fingers against the keyboard fills the silence and leaves you to bask in this comforting sensation of warmth. you’re so relaxed that you can’t bring yourself to move. not that you would have wanted to, anyway.

it’s peaceful. so, of course, you have to ruin it.

“you ever want to fuck a cartoon character?” you suddenly say, the copy of seance dog in your hand and your foot crossed over your knee. you hear the way mark’s typing pauses for a moment, and imagining his reaction forces you to bite back a snicker. a pregnant silence fills the room before the typing begins again, just as rhythmic and hypnotic as before.

“i know you’re not saying that about seance dog,” mark finally quips back, his voice dripping with an absurd amount of mirth. you can hear his smile in his voice– you always can, because mark rarely doesn’t smile. it’s one of your favorite things about him.

you can’t help but take the bait.

“you think i could be?” you ask, tone scandalized and brows raised. neither of you move to face each other just yet– you don’t need to. you can tell exactly what face mark’s making from the sound of his voice, and mark can do the same for you. it’s how he knows that you’ve stopped biting back that smug smile of yours– the one that creeps across your face when you’re clearly up to something, but he doesn’t know what. you’re a troublemaker; it’s one of his favorite things about you.

“yeah,” he replies without missing a beat, “i clearly know nothing about you. i was once dumb enough to think you were intimidating.”

“i’m still intimidating!”

“yeah, maybe on occasion,” mark teases, his typing ceasing completely so that he can spin around in his chair. he leans against it with his head tossed back and his arms on the armrests, eying you gleefully as you put the comic face down on the bed. “most of the time i forget because you’re too busy saying shit that’s uncomfortably close to ‘i wanna fuck seance dog.’”

“eat shit and die, mark.”

“i don’t wanna.”

“then shut the fuck up and answer the question!”

“fine, fine!” mark laughs and lifts his hands up lazily off the chair in mock-surrender. “‘course i’ve wanted to fuck a cartoon character. who hasn’t? i’m not a nun.”

something flashes in your eyes, and you shift to lean forward towards where mark’s sitting, propping up on your elbows on the bed. you grin mischievously; it’s clear you’re up to nothing remotely good.

“who?” you ask.

mark replies immediately. “koriand’r.”

“wha– from the titans?”

“no, from the avengers. yes, from the titans. who else would i be talking about?”

“alright, down, boy,” you say amusedly, making mark roll his eyes. “i was just checking. but you obviously can’t handle that.”

mark raises an eyebrow. “says who?”

“uhh, says me?"

the two of you are still for a moment, and you start to fear you said something wrong until you see mark’s eyes darken in that telltale way they do when he starts to feel challenged. then, as if that wasn’t enough to give you goosebumps, he does that stupid, mindless thing he does with his tongue, where he runs it along the inside of his cheek. your breath stills in your chest when mark pushes up off the back of his chair and leans forward towards where you lie on the bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands clasped between his thighs.

it’s hard to keep your gaze from dropping to the veins in his hands.

“oh yeah?” mark asks incredulously, tilting his head. you were joking about being the intimidating one earlier, but the real intimidator is mark. when he gets serious, you swear you can feel something in the air shift. maybe that’s why it feels like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing up right now.

“why not?”

the question, in its simple nature, catches you off guard, and in a brief moment of confusion, you tilt your head. “why not what?” “why couldn’t i handle her?”

you stare at mark as if he’s joking, but instead of him laughing and waving you off, mark stares back at you expectantly, brow arched and lips quirked up at the corners. it’s like he wants to smile, but he can’t. won’t.

this dickhead must have a death wish.

“what do you mean ‘why couldn’t you handle her?’” you say casually– like what you’re saying is most obvious thing in the world. “it’s koriand’r, mark. she’d chew you up and spit you out before you even had time to undo your belt.”

you swipe up your copy of seance dog and busy yourself with trying to find where on the page you last left off. honestly, it doesn’t matter where you start reading. you’re willing to do anything to help get your mind off the weight of mark’s eyes boring into you.

“besides,” you huff, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, “koriand’r has standards, and you probably have a small dick, anyway.”

the second those words leave your mouth, the room falls deathly silent, and you swear it’s as if the air has been sucked out of the room. you fall still where you’re at, hoping that somehow, someway, you not moving will make mark want to kill you less. you really don’t know what possessed you to say that– it was a poor attempt at deflection, considering the growing amount of tension you began feeling in that room– but you don’t mean it. didn’t mean it. not one bit.

you’re doing mental gymnastics to figure out how you can take it back without sounding like a total loser before mark starts laughing, and the joyous and boisterous sound gives you pause.

he couldn’t have found that funny… could he?

okay, yeah, after a little bit of consideration, he very well could have. this is mark grayson, you’re talking about– not one of the insecure guys you were used to dealing with, who were more likely to blow a blood vessel than a load at the idea of being perceived as “unmanly.” mark’s the type of guy to wear one of your crop tops because he knows you’ll whine about him stretching them out, or wear a maid dress as a punishment for losing a bet, masking his embarrassment with quips about how good his legs look. you also know mark enough to know he’s not a virgin, nor is he a prude, but not well enough to know intimate details about his sex life. sure, jokes are fine, but a play-by-play on how he screwed his ex feels… invasive. beyond the scope of your shared comfort. it was just something you never thought of asking.

well, more like something you could never bring yourself to ask.

you set the comic back down on the bed just in time to watch mark wipe some tears from his eyes, twisting around to face his laptop with a smile on his face. he resumes typing like nothing happened, like you didn’t just obliterate his manhood and leave it in pieces for him to pick up off the floor. it’s hard not to gawk at him in disbelief, blinking rapidly for a few moments before speaking.

“that– didn’t upset you?” you say tentatively, voice a lot meeker than initially intended. mark huffs out a laugh and spins around, hands back to resting on the armrests.

“why would it have?” he says bemusedly, still smiling from before. “we joke like that all the time. honestly, i’m surprised you hadn’t said something like that sooner.”

you can only stare at him blankly, brows knitting in confusion as mark continues to regard you patiently. then, you sit up, pushing up off your elbows to swing around and upright, one leg dangling off the bed while the other stays bent in front of you.

“why didn’t you get mad?”

mark pauses, eyes narrowing as he tilts his head. “...is this a trick question? why would i? you were joking around.”

“most guys would’ve gotten mad about me saying something like that.”

“yeah, well, most guys aren’t exactly confident about what they’re packing downstairs.”

“and you are?”

mark’s lips part for a second, but no words come out. he quickly shuts his mouth and stares at you, but you stare back, ignoring the way your cheeks start to burn with red-hot embarrassment.

“well, yeah,” mark finally says, eyes flickering nervously to the side. he looks everywhere– the alarm clock on the dresser, his posters on the wall, everywhere but where you are, sitting prettily on his bed– but his eyes have no choice but to finally lock back onto yours, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. “‘course i’m confident about it.”

“...‘cause it’s not small.”

he pauses. “yeah. ‘cause it’s not small.”

your brain short-circuits right then and there.

you aren’t sure why you’re so surprised by this. it wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to arrive to this conclusion. you were around when mark started dating his ex-girlfriend, amber– around long enough to have seen the exact point in their relationship where they shed the last of their inhibitions and began interacting with each other much more comfortably. you were also around long enough to watch mark come into himself– to lose that dweebish, unsure aura around him and become more confident. muscled. tall. even if he was still pretty dorky most of the time.

perhaps that’s when the thoughts started: when you started to think of mark less as a boy, and more as a man. when you began wondering things about him that you desperately wanted to know, but were much too scared to ask.

at least you have an answer to one of them now.

“hey,” mark says suddenly, voice sharp enough to cut through all your overthinking and analyses. mark’s closer to you now– right next to you, actually, the scent of his cologne filling your nose– and he has your hand in his, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back. “you okay? should i not have said that–?”

you frantically shake your head. “no–! i mean, yes– god, fuck, no, mark, it’s okay.” you take a deep breath, letting your eyes fall shut. “i’m the one who asked. you just answered.”

you take in a shaky breath and let your eyes flutter open to find mark watching you adeptly, his eyes trained on your face. the expression he’s wearing is one of worry, those dark brows of his pinched in the middle to form a wrinkle you so desperately want to smooth out with your thumb. his plush, pink lips are parted, and in an attempt not to stare at them, your eyes fall to the floor, but not before momentarily catching on how his biceps strain against his sleeves.

for fuck’s sake, this is not the time to be focusing on how attractive you find your best friend.

“i wanted to know,” you finally say, voice soft and a little frayed around the edges. your eyes flutter shut again– something to give you a bit of extra courage to say what you need to say, and not cave under the pressure of your nerves. “i wanted the answer to that question. it sounds weird as fuck, and i totally understand if you want me to leave and never show my face around here again, but i’d be lying if i said i didn’t want to know.”

you open your eyes again to find mark still staring at you, eyes jumping all over your face, while sporting an unreadable expression. you find yourself swallowing hard as you steel yourself for what you want to say next, adjusting to sit and face mark completely. “i wanna know a lot of things about you, actually. and none of them are all that appropriate for two people who are supposed to be ‘best friends.’”

it’s mark’s turn to short-circuit.

“w–what?” mark stutters out, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression as his eyebrows shoot up in suprise. his mouth falls agape, opening and closing fruitlessly as he tries to figure out what to say. “i– jesus christ, i don’t think you understand what you’re saying–”

“i know exactly what i’m saying.” your interjection is quick and firm, your expression void of your previous nervousness and now completely serious. “and you know it. don’t insult me like that again.”

mark’s protests die in his throat.

“i want to know you,” you start. “honestly. intimately. fuck, to be honest, i want to see you– naked, in my bed– but i didn’t wanna make things weird, and then you had that whole thing with amber, and then i thought you were gonna date eve, so i kinda just kept it to myself, but–”

“you can know me.”

you freeze. “what–?”

“you can know me,” mark says again, his hand squeezing the one that he has wrapped in his. “you can know me. and see me. and i’ll answer every other question you’ve had about me, ‘cause i wanna know you too.”

you can’t help but stare at mark , absolutely and completely dumbfounded. if he notices, he doesn’t judge. doesn’t acknowledge it at all, actually. he just continues to steamroll ahead.

“god, fuck, i really wanna know you like that, too,” he sighs. “always have– like, all the way back in high school. i’d see you in the halls with your friends and think, ‘man, they’re hot,’ then move on with my life because i thought there was no way i’d ever have a chance with you. then, we got partnered up for that project, and i learned that you were so much cooler and more approachable than i had ever imagined, and i wanted to make a move on you so bad, but i still thought there was no way you could ever like me. william can testify to this– i was talking his ear off about you 24/7. still do. he is seriously getting sick of it.”

the way mark talks is fast– so much so that all his words bleed together, voice full of excitement and sincerity. it make your eyes sting. after he finishes, his quick way of talking tapers off into a hefty bout of silence, his beautiful brown eyes flickering down to your joint hands.

“and then came amber.”

the quiet that follows drapes over the two of you like a blanket, heavy with the weight of everything you two are thinking, but ultimately remains unsaid. the fact of the matter is that it doesn’t need to be said. you and mark just… know– understand– that amber was the first person, aside from you, to treat mark as less of an expendable, and more like somebody worth knowing. she took the opportunities you were too afraid to– penciled her name in where yours was meant to be and slipped right on into that “partner” position, wearing it as if it was custom-fitted. it may as well have been, because it sure looked good on her.

he looked good on her. that’s why you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad.

“i never would’ve gone out with her if i knew you wanted me even half as much as i wanted you,” mark says quietly, reaching up to rub a tear from your cheek that you didn’t even know you shed. “but i didn’t. and we dated, and i slept with her, and i loved her, but i feel all of that for you too, y’know.” he cradles your face delicately as he climbs up onto his knees, his movements slow, as if moving too quickly would scare you off. moving too quickly would remind you that this is real; remind you that you probably shouldn’t be doing this, causing you to hop off the bed and run down the hall, flying down the stairs, past debbie, and out the front door.

but you don’t have to worry. never have, actually, because the way mark treats you is careful. cautious. he’s kneeling on the bed and easing you onto your back with such rapt attention that it makes your cheeks warm, head turning to the side to shield it from him before he turns your head right back to where it was.

“i want you to ask your questions,” mark says slowly, large hands pushing your knees apart to make room for him between your legs. you can’t help but stare at him helplessly, any and all words dying in your throat, but mark moves with a confidence that makes it clear you don’t need to speak. not when he’s hovering over you like this.

“i want to answer your questions, and i want you to do the same for mine. ‘cause i’ve thought about you. a lot. and not all of it was decent. actually, most of it probably wasn’t.”

mark lets himself laugh softly at the admission, but you can only look up at him in awe, the muscles of your brows twitching from the urge to knit in confusion. mark’s eyes catch this, and he reaches down to smooth his thumb over the spot right between your eyebrows– the same way you wanted to do for him earlier.

“so tell me that this is okay.”

mark trails his fingers across your skin, skimming over your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder, and all the way down your arm until reaching your hand. he tangles your fingers together and brings your wrist to his lips, a soft kiss being pressed to your pulse, which makes your heart stutter in your chest. mark doesn’t tease you for how vulnerably you stare at him, or for how red his actions make your face. he only looks down at you with a soft smile, peppering kisses to your palm.

“holy shit, mark, this is more than okay.”

mark’s grin is blinding when you surge forward to kiss him.

the thing that surprises you most about it isn’t how good of a kisser mark is, or how nice it feels for his big hands to come up and cradle your jaw. it’s how easy all of this is– how uncomplicated it is to be making out with mark, how your lips slot together as if it’s always meant to be this way, how raw his groan is when you tangle your fingers into his hair and tug. he has you pressed against the bed in seconds, one hand slowly slipping beneath your t-shirt as the other squeezes at your outer thigh. you feel dizzy when your lips part and he ducks his head down into your neck, sucking bruises into the skin with a fervor that makes you squirm.

“i– fuck, mark, not where people can see–!”

“does it matter if it’s visible? ‘s not like you’re fucking anyone else right now besides me.”

you hit mark hard against his back, but it only makes him chuckle, sitting up to look at you with messy hair and blown pupils. “what? you haven’t slept with anybody in a while, and you’re about to sleep with me. i didn’t say anything wrong.”

“how do you even know that, asshole?”

mark grins, sitting back on his haunches as he hooks the hem of your shirt on his index finger. he tugs it up enough to reveal your stomach. “‘cause you’re lying here in my bed, wearing my shirt, with me sitting between your legs. if i was the person you’ve been fucking, i’d definitely feel some type of way about that.”

you scoff, moving one of your legs to try and kick at mark’s chest. like the little shit he is, he catches it easily and presses a kiss to your ankle, setting it on one of his shoulders. “that doesn’t mean anything. i could have casual sex if i wanted to.”

“yeah,” mark agrees, both hands coming to smooth his shirt up the expanse of your body, “you could. if you wanted to. but you don’t, ‘cause you’re not like that.”

“bullshit.”

“is not. here, open your mouth for me.”

“wh–?”

“shut up and open it for a second, would you?”

you shoot mark a withering glare, but he just grins back, pushing your shirt up under your chin and offering the hem for you to bite down on.

“thank you,” he says gleefully, his words a little too airy and sing-songy for you to let slide. you try and kick him again, but he blocks your leg without much of a second thought, eyes laser focused on the sight of your tits in front of him.

“wow, you are so fucking pretty.”

the way he says it is so full of awe– so genuine– that it makes your mouth fall open. the t-shirt in your mouth gets stuck on your bottom lip in the process, and the sight makes mark chuckle, a boyish grin settling on his face. he reaches up to adjust it and pulls it back up so you can bite down on it again.

“i didn’t even say anything crazy yet,” he teases, laughing as you do your best to swear at him from around the fabric. mark ignores it to focus on the sight in front of him instead, though, fingers tracing up your rib cage before cupping the underside of each of your breasts.

your mind goes blank when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“oh, fuck,” you gasp out, back arching off the bed and into his mouth. the t-shirt slips from between your teeth again, and you can feel mark grin around where his tongue swirls around your skin, popping off to look at you and chastise you softly.

“jeez, you really suck at following instructions,” mark playfully says. “and did you forget that my mom is downstairs? i’ve had her knock on the door during sex before, and trust me, it does not help to sustain the mood.”

“god, you sound like such a dork. ‘it does not help to sustain–’”

mark cuts you off with a groan, fingers curling into the waistband of your shorts and panties. “shut up and lift your hips already.”

you giggle. “fine, fine.”

you plant your feet and lift your hips off the bed enough for mark to tug your clothes off, separating your shorts from your underwear so he can tuck the garment into his pocket. You look at him with a flustered expression, mouth dropping open in bewilderment, but mark simply sticks his tongue out at you and flings your shorts to the floor, panties nowhere in sight. you hardly have enough time to process him keeping them for himself before he’s wrapping his hands around your thighs and tugging them onto his shoulders, putting him face to face with your cunt and lifting your lower back completely off the bed.

you knew mark was strong, but you never thought of him using his strength like this.

mark holds you firmly as he busies himself with eating you out like a man starved. those big, brown doe eyes of his look down at you, sometimes lingering on the rise and fall of your chest, and sometimes taking in the sight of your knitted brows and parted lips, both your hands tangled in the pillow behind your head. his eyes do fall shut every once in a while as if he’s savoring the taste of you on his tongue, and he probably is, knowing mark, but you don’t have the wherewithal to tease him. not now, at least. not when he’s got his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking in these sporadic little bursts that make your stomach burn with molten need.

“oh, f-uck,” you gasp, voice cracking on the expletive. in your defense, it’s the only word you currently feel like you know how to say, but mark doesn’t laugh or tease you for it. he just presses a messy kiss to your clit, then slides his tongue down through your folds to circle your hole, slowly and messily pressing inside of you. he pumps it in and out for a few moments, as if he’s trying to fuck you with his tongue, then flattens the muscle and drags it back up to your clit to press into it firmly. you untangle your fingers from the sheets and reach up to swat at mark’s thigh, twisting and turning frantically in his hold.

“oh my fucking god, mark, let go!” your whines are urgent, thighs beginning to quiver on either side of mark’s head. his eyes flutter open enough to look at you through his long, thick lashes, but his firm grip on your waist doesn’t let up in the slightest. his arms tighten around you, keeping your pussy to his lips and your body off the bed as he continues to ravage you like it’s the one thing he was born to do. “mark! ‘m fuckin’ serious– i’m gonna squirt if you don’t let go of m– oh, fuck!”

you realize your warning is a bit late as you feel that knot tighten and snap in your belly, but it would’ve fallen on deaf ears regardless of whether you said it earlier or not. your cunt gushes all over mark’s nose, lips, and chin, soaking the top of his t-shirt and dribbling a bit down onto the bed below. you’d think he’d have a concern of drowning, but mark’s tongue keeps moving as you cum, legs squeezing against his ears so tight that you’re sure he can hear absolutely nothing but his own heartbeat. you know you sure can’t– all you can hear is the distant sound of your own voice, and the way your breathing stutters in your chest, a series of tremors wracking your body so brutally that you’d liken them to an earthquake.

“shit,” you gasp softly, limbs tingling once they regain sensation. you wriggle in mark’s grasp and he pulls back from your pussy with a pop!, lowering your hips down to the bed as he runs his tongue along his lower lip.

“you said you were about to squirt as if that was going to deter me,” mark says breathlessly, a soft laugh punctuating his sentence. his face is covered with your slick all over his lips and chin, the sun from the window catching on it in a way that makes it glisten. you’re embarrassed by his nonchalance, but it’s hard to be mad when mark looks this good. you did this to him– made his perfectly slicked-back hair disheveled, and soaked his lower face and chest in your cum. normally, you would reply to his quip right away, but right now, you don’t. you’re much too focused on watching how mark leans down to reach behind his head and grab at his shirt, shucking it off in one smooth motion to join your discarded shorts on the floor.

“it was supposed to,” you finally say, voice sounding just as breathless as mark’s. his lips quirk up at the corners, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. instead, he leans over you to open his bedside drawer, and you take that as an opportunity to continue. “didn’t realize i was sleeping with superfreak, over here.”

mark snorts. “i’m just a guy who prioritizes my partner’s pleasure over mine.”

“that’s a roundabout way to say you like to eat pussy. and ass. oh god, mark, you don’t eat ass, do you?”

mark wiggles his eyebrows in response, and you look at him with such a horrified expression that a giggle can’t help but escape from his chest. he shuts the bedside table with a soft thud and leans back over you with a strip of two condoms hanging from his mouth. your brows shoot up at the sight, but mark doesn’t see it. he’s much too focused on pushing his sweatpants and boxers down to his thighs, cock slapping lightly against his abs.

oh. you always knew mark looked good, but this? this is something else entirely.

“you’re staring,” mark says wryly, tearing one of the condoms from the strip, then opening up the wrapper with his teeth. you watch as he pinches the tip and rolls the condom onto himself with a level of precision that screams of practice. if you hadn’t just cum your brains out, you might’ve found yourself feeling a little bit jealous.

“‘course i am.” your reply is shameless, and it makes mark bark out a startled laugh. “you said it was big, not that you were carrying a weapon. now here you are, looking like asian adonis with my jizz on your face, rolling a condom on with the ease of a common whore. not to mention that you grabbed two of them.”

a giddy smile spreads across mark’s face in reply, but it’s not one of his usual ones: it’s bashful. it’s the kind of smile where he bites his lip to force it down, but it doesn’t work, so his bottom lip slowly unfurls from between his teeth. your ears burn bright red at the sight, but mark doesn’t comment on it. mark’s never been good at multitasking, and he’s much too focused on tossing the unopened condom to the side, then tugging you against him by your thighs.

“we don’t have to use them both,” mark says softly, the sweetness of his smile bleeding into his voice. it’s a bit jarring for him to be acting so adorably, like he’s not running his cock along the seam of your folds. the tip catches on your clit every so often, making your breath catch in the back of your throat.

“i like how that’s what you chose to comment on.”

he shrugs. “didn’t have much else to say.”

“you’re a dog, you know that, mark?”

mark grins at you wickedly, leaning down to lick a stripe up your cheek.

“mm, yeah. ‘m guilty as charged.”

and just like that, he sinks into you, bottoming out in one smooth thrust that knocks the air from your lungs. your eyes screw shut, but you latch onto him immediately, hand shooting out in search of his. he takes it wordlessly, bringing your hand up so he can kiss your knuckles.

“you okay?” he asks tenderly, lips pressed to the back of your hand. you open your eyes, tears pricking at the corners, then nod slowly as a deep breath leaves your nose.

“yeah,” you say shakily. “just been a while. warn me next time.”

mark nods, doing his best not to get caught up on the fact that you want there to be a next time. “sure,” he answers. “sorry. here– put your legs on my shoulder.”

you lift your legs for mark to take, and he settles both of your feet on one of his shoulders like they belong there. then, he shifts forward, shuffling up so that his thighs bracket your hips, which slots him deeper into you than he has any business being.

it makes you feel crazy. you fucking love it.

once mark feels stable in his position, and any remnants of discomfort bleed from your expression, he starts rocking his hips in and out of you at a pace too quick to be languid, but too slow to be considered harsh. whatever rhythm he’s fallen into, it feels good. you’re clawing at the sheets at your sides and behind your head like a madman, that copy of seance dog he lent you long forgotten on the floor, along with everything else you two have taken off.

“does this answer one of your questions?” mark asks lowly, eyes half-lidded and jaw tight. he’s got your legs pressed to his chest with one hand, the other splayed across your stomach to hold you in place. you can tell it’s not that simple, though; the firmness with which he presses down against your stomach is as if he’s feeling for something, and the realization makes you clench, cunt squelching lewdly around his cock inside you. “did you wonder how i fuck? if i liked it fast? or did it slow?”

in your day-to-day conversations, mark doesn’t swear all that often– at least, not compared to you– but the mouth he’s got on him in bed is a surprise that makes you flush down to your chest. you look up to see mark gazing at you with eyes that are almost black, a bright blush fanning across his freckled cheeks and nose. when he sees you struggle to answer, the gears clearly turning, but no words coming out, he grips your legs tighter and quickens the snap of his hips. mark’s lips fall open with a breathy moan as he watches the way your eyes roll back, and his abdomen clenches with the need to keep his own pleasure at bay. “c’mon, baby. tell me. tell me how you want it, ‘n’ i promise i’ll do whatever you say.”

“i– god, fuck, mark, yes, i wondered how you fucked!” your reply comes out breathy, whiny, and and rushed– a result of you making an actual effort to focus so it didn’t come out as a jumbled, inaudible mess. “i w-wondered if you’d treat me like glass, or fuck me like i had no self-respect. i don’t care what you do right now– swear t’god i don’t– ‘cause i just wanna cum. don’t fucking stop.”

mark huffs out a laugh at how desperate you sound, lips quirking up in a lopsided smile that shows off the cute little fangs he has in the corners of his mouth. he turns his head to kiss one of your ankles, then takes one to put it on the opposite side, making it so you have one leg on each of his shoulders. large, calloused hands slide down your legs and smooth over your thighs before taking your hands into each of his. you’re about to ask what he’s doing, but there’s no time for the words to come out. he’s already gripping both your wrists and tugging you forward, forcing your ass to smack against his thighs with every brutal snap of his hips.

your brain is about to melt out of your fucking ears.

“did you touch yourself?” mark’s asks breathlessly, dark eyes focused on your face. you try desperately to free your hands from his grasp, but your attempts are pathetically uncoordinated. the way his cock is rearranging your guts makes it impossibly difficult to focus. but despite your lack of success, your writhing makes mark tut at you disapprovingly, and he leans forward to keep you in place by resting a fraction of his body weight on your chest. “quit trying to run ‘n’ tell me. did you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you? imagining how it would be?”

mark leans down to lick a stripe up the side of your neck, voice dropping to a filthy, sultry whisper. “‘cause i did. thought about this all the time, what you’d feel like around me. it’s so much fuckin’ better than i imagined.”

you nod your head frantically, hands clenched into fists, and your nails dig so roughly into your palms that it’s a miracle it hasn’t drawn blood. mark isn’t completely satisfied with your response, but he takes it for what it is and releases both of your wrists in favor of grabbing onto your hips.

“if you touched yourself while thinking of me, then show me. play with it for me, hm?”

you don’t need much more coaxing than that.

your fingers fly to your clit at lightening speed, middle and ring finger rubbing in quick, tight circles that mark finds absolutely hypnotizing. your other hand comes up to palm at your breasts, pinching and tweaking at your nipples in a way that makes you whine. mark damn near growls at the sight, a string of expletives you’ve never heard from him before being let out into the ether as he doubles his efforts to fuck you into the mattress.

“open your eyes,” mark demands, his words oozing with a tone you’re very much not used to being addressed with. his voice is low, gravely, and deeply affected by the way your walls squeeze around him, and you find that you quite like having him like this: wrapped around your finger, barely hanging on, lost in everything pertaining to you. the sentiment is definitely shared, because as you force your eyes open, you feel your features pinch the way they do when you’re trying not to cry. it’s nothing bad– far from it, actually. it’s just that mark is fucking you so good that you feel like you’re losing your mind, and the pleasure is so mindboggling that it makes you wanna sob.

“there y’go, baby,” mark sighs, “just keep lookin’ at me. i wanna see your face when you cum.”

his honest admission shoots straight through you and right to your core, pussy clenching around him tightly, your clit throbbing beneath your fingers. mark moans low and long at the feeling, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows hard.

“fuck, i like when y’do that– when you like what i say and you get all tight around me. just– keep touching yourself, pretty. look at me and let it happen.”

all you can do is nod helplessly. mark ducks down to press a kiss to your cheek, fingers pressing what will definitely be bruises tomorrow morning into the skin of your hips. his cock splits you open in a mindbending way, your fingers flicking at your clit so frantically that your hand has become nothing but a blur.

then, the bubble bursts. your orgasm hits you like a truck, your head flying back, and the muscles in your jaw and neck pulling taut. the same goes for your legs– your knees lock up and your thighs pull tight, shaking with violent tremors as you gush again, this time, around mark’s cock. you do your best to keep your eyes open as you cum, but it’s hard. from what you can see, though, mark’s mouth drops open and his eyes flash with something bright– yellow, even– as he takes in the sight of you falling apart. whatever it is, you don’t give it much thought. your brain is much too fried to be trusting everything you see right now.

“you’re a fucking dream like this,” mark mutters, his tone oozing with awe and disbelief. dutifully, he fucks you through your second orgasm– all the squirming, pulsing, and wetness that’s stained his sheets twice in one night– and holds your unfocused gaze all throughout it before he feels you coming down and abruptly pulls out. your twitching legs drop unceremoniously to the bed, and mark swings his thighs over you to settle over your chest, fingers peeling off the condom and tossing it lamely to the side. all you can see past your wet lashes and teary eyes is mark’s fist moving in an urgent blur before he cums all over your chest, the orgasm hitting him so hard that he has to grip the headboard to stabilize himself. his super strength causes it to splinter just slightly as his legs shake, so much so that he can hardly hold himself up.

his cum paints your tits in hot, thick, pearly white strands, and mark clambers up from over you to lay down on the other side of the bed. you find it unfair, the way that he’s panting and shaking much less than you, but you don’t comment. you just stare up at the ceiling, the sound of your breathing filling the air.

“i hope that was good,” mark says earnestly, rolling lazily onto his side to look at you. you take another deep, grounding breath, then turn your head to look at him. your arm comes out too weakly to swat at his chest.

“there’s no way you just asked me that when your cum is drying on my chest.”

mark stares at you for a moment, then busts out into a fit of laughter, reaching behind his head to take the pillow so he can drop it casually onto your face. you can’t help but laugh too, arms coming up to shield yourself from the pillow, and you toss it back to mark where he catches it, then tucks it back under his head. “fuck me for trying to make sure you’re okay, i guess,” he says dramatically, rolling his eyes.

you flip over onto your stomach and bunch the pillow up under your chin, careful to ignore the wet parts of your chest as you widely grin and quip back. “i just did.”

“more like the other way around. this was me fucking you. into the mattress, might i add.” mark grins mischievously and reaches out to place his hand on your lower back, smoothing over your ass before dipping between your legs to find your folds. he trails his fingers up and down your wet and puffy slit, tongue darting out to wet his lips when he feels you shiver in reply. “but we can go again with you on top if you wanna fuck me. not like i’d ever say no to that. plus, it’d answer one of my questions.”

you’re part your lips to reply, but the sound of feet padding up the stairs, partnered with a soft call of mark’s name, makes you both freeze exactly where you’re at. you look at each other in panic, then scramble to get rid of the proof of what you two just did. mark leaps off the bed and onto his feet with impressive athleticism, tossing you your discarded copy of seance dog that you catch effortlessly with one hand. you tug your t-shirt down over your chest, ignoring the fact that there’s still cum on it you’ve hardly wiped off, and he busies himself with pulling his pants back up and slipping his t-shirt on. the fact that it’s still damp around the collar doesn’t matter– not when there’s much more incriminating evidence like his used condom on the bed, alongside the wrapper and the new one he was about to use on you again ten seconds ago.

you barely manage to get under the covers to hide your lower half by the time debbie opens the door, your shorts haphazardly kicked under the bed, and your panties in mark’s pocket. you double-check to make sure your comic isn’t upside down and open it to a random page, holding it as inconspicuously as possible, right in front of your face. mark’s hands are stuffed into his pants, the condoms and the wrapper fisted tightly in his hands.

“hey, you two,” debbie says sweetly, eyes flickering back and forth between the two of you. you swear, even if you two didn’t look suspicious as hell, debbie would still be looking at you two like she knows you did something wrong. “just came to let you know that dinner is ready. and that you two shouldn’t stay up too late tonight. i’m driving you two back to campus early, so i can get to work on time.”

mark smiles tightly. “okay, mom, thanks,” he says, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave at her goodbye. debbie eyes him amusedly, taking in both of your disheveled appearances one more time before nodding and moving to close the door.

“oh, and mark? it’s been a long time coming, so i don’t mind if you two are having sex, as long as it’s safe and i don’t have to worry about becoming a grandma.”

the color drains from both of your faces, but debbie only laughs, a smile as sweet as her son’s spreading across her face. “but next time, if you’re gonna try and hide it, make sure the panties are tucked all the way into your pocket. i’m not judging what you’re into, but it’s kind of a dead giveaway when blue lace is halfway hanging out of your sweatpants.”

# — navigation

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson x you smut #invincible x you smut #invincible x reader smut

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wheezyreads · 2 months ago

Text

AND YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN

This is so mmmmmmmmmmmmm

this how i would look trying to stop bob from shaving:

bob is hot. we love bob. in bob with a scruff we trust

After Hours | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader

Summary: Clean shaven. That was how you knew Bob. But while you were away on a mission, he'd decided to change up his look. Who knew just a little facial hair was enough to shine a new light on the man and drive you absolutely insane?

Contents: SMUT, porn with some plot, fem!reader, No Y/N, thunderbolts!reader, Bob is taller than reader, reader has hair long enough to get in your face, matchmakers Ava and Yelena, shower sex, Oral (f receiving), Penetrative sex (p in v), slight overstimulation, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), creampie. If I missed any warnings please let me know!

WC: 4.4K

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Masterlist

A/N: As I've made very clear and made it everybody's problem, I'm currently going fucking insane over Lewis Pullman. Watched The Starling Girl, was not okay afterwards, wrote this. Bon Appétit.

Clean shaven, undetectable facial hair. That was how you knew Bob. You weren’t even sure he was able to grow any facial hair, until you’d spotted him in the bathroom one morning. Shaving was part of his morning routine. For a long time, he’d just preferred the look and feel.

Until last week.

You’d been overseas for a mission, nothing unusual. You returned, debriefed and made your way back to the tower, just like you’d done many times before. Not everybody was at the tower, but then again, it was once in a blue moon everybody was there at the same time. It was just Ava, Yelena, Bob and you for today, it seemed.

You took off your shoes, placing them on the rack next to the elevator. The sound of your heavy bag dropping to the floor caught the attention of the room’s occupants. Such dangerous people, yet they hadn’t heard the elevator? You met each of their eyes, giving them a tired but warm smile. Your smile faltered ever so slightly, eyebrows raising, at the sight of Bob. He looked different.

He was wearing a black t-shirt. Short sleeves, you noted. Not something he wore often. He preferred to wear longer sleeves to cover some of the scarring on the inside of his elbows, understandably so. That was in the past. The shirt looked good on him. Very good.

It was not the main attraction, though. He had stubble. More than a five o’clock shadow, but not a full beard. Probably a few days of growth, at most. But dear lord did it change his whole look. Bob noticed the extra attention you were paying him, insecurely rubbing his hand over the stubble and turning his attention back to the TV, away from you.

“Hey guys…” you finally spoke. You tore your eyes off the back of Bob’s head, meeting Yelena’s amused gaze. “What’s going on?”

“We were just watching a movie, you’re welcome to join, if you want,” Ava invited.

“I’m just gonna go put my stuff in my room and change and then I’ll join you,” you agreed. Bob casually put his arm on the back of the couch, leaning back, and your eyes snapped to the exposed skin of his biceps. You knew he had some muscle on him, so why did you feel like a sinner seeing a woman’s ankles in the 1800’s?

You grabbed your bag off the floor and hastily made your way to your room. God, what had gotten into you? Sure, Bob was very sweet. Why had your mouth gone dry at the sight of him, today of all days?

You unpacked your bag, throwing the dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. You grabbed a change of comfy clothes and changed into them, finally being able to unwind after a week away. You already felt more relaxed just by being back in the tower. It had really become your home over these last few months on this new team.

You walked into the kitchen to grab some snacks and a drink. Damn it. The one thing Walker and you had in common was your favourite brand of chips. Did he really have to put them on the tippy toppest of shelves? You were convinced he only put them there so you wouldn’t be able to reach them. Bastard.

“Need a hand?” Startled, you whipped around. Bob was closer than his voice had sounded. He was already reaching over you for the chips. You were now faced with his chest and the new stubble on his chin. He put a hand on your waist to steady you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled. He put the chips on the counter, grabbing a bag of M&M’s for himself. You took a deep breath to steady yourself as he moved away to the fridge. You followed his movements, frozen against the counter.

“Thirsty?” He asked, holding up a bottle of soda.

“Huh?” You blinked. You are a grown woman. Why are you getting distracted by him like this?

“You want a drink?” He had grabbed a glass for himself, offering one to you, too.

“Oh, yes, please. Thanks.” He poured two glasses to the brim.

“How was the mission?” He asked. You grabbed the snacks and the both of you walked back into the living room, putting your stuff on the coffee table.

“It was good. Quite uneventful, really. No wonder they sent me to go alone,” you shrugged. Surveillance for a full week without any real action. Boring.

“Well, at least you didn’t get hurt,” Bob smiled. You returned it and sat down next to him on the couch, on the free spot between him and Yelena. If anybody were to hold you at gunpoint and ask what movie they’d been watching that night, they might as well shoot you. Your eyes were on the TV, but your mind and peripheral were preoccupied with the man to your right.

You knew Yelena noticed. Ava too, probably. At this point, you didn’t care. You were enthralled. He looked so different. It had only been a week. Had someone dosed you with an aphrodisiac on the plane back or something? Because it sure felt like it.

He absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair and pushed it out of his face, and just like that, you were done for. The nonchalant action was so hot, it wasn’t fair. You were starting to get angry with yourself, but also with him. Stupid Bob. Stupid beard. Stupid heart that won’t stop beating at a thousand BPM.

“What did that bag of crisps ever do to you?” Ava asked, interrupting the silence. You looked down at your hands. You were grabbing the bag as if it had killed your family and owed you money. You had eaten one, maybe two hands of the stuff before your cravings had dwindled. Or shifted, more like. You were definitely craving something– someone else now.

“Sorry,” you chuckled, releasing the bag and deciding to just put it on the table. “Probably still a bit tense from the mission.”

“Hmmmm, right. I thought you said it was uneventful?” Yelena questioned.

“Uhu,” your voice went up an octave, betraying your lie. Bob gave you a curious look. You refused to return it, scared what you might do if you made direct eye contact right now.

Before you knew it, the credits rolled over the screen. Ava cleared the table and took everything to the kitchen, leaving you alone with Yelena and Bob. Yelena turned to you.

“So, what do you think of Bob’s new look? Quite dashing, no?” She proposed. Smug little– You were so going to get her back for this one day. You slowly turned your eyes to Bob, who was patiently, though anxiously, awaiting your answer.

“It uh– Looks good. Different,” you replied, scared to give yourself away.

“Different? Is that a good thing? Or…” Bob’s face had fallen, though only a little. He was masking the insecurity, but you saw it either way.

“No, no– I mean– Yes, it’s a good thing. Good different. Looks good,” you choked before he could feel any worse about it.

“I’m not too sure about it, yet. Think I might shave it tonight.”

“NO. I mean. Why don’t you give it a little longer? It’s only been what, a week? Just test it out for a while,” you laughed awkwardly.

“Hmmm, I don’t know…” Bob pushed a hand through his hair again. It was getting long. You closed your eyes and turned back to Yelena. Anything to spare yourself this torture. Yelena was barely containing her laughter. If Bob had any clue as to what was happening, which was unlikely– the man was as dense as lead– he didn’t show it.

“Well, I think it looks great. Makes him look a little more rugged. Don’t you agree?” You were going to kill Yelena Belova. It would be difficult. You would make it slow, torturous.

“Yup! Definitely more rugged. Hey, where has Ava walked off to?” You changed the subject. Speaking of the devil, she walked back in with a cup of steaming tea.

“I’m gonna go shower. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but please don’t kill each other while I’m gone,” Bob joked. So he had noticed Yelena was pestering you. He got up off the couch and walked down the hallway towards the bedrooms.

The second Bob turned the corner out of sight, you jumped Yelena, reaching for her throat. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you threatened. She wrangled your arms away from her throat and laughed loudly.

“I think you have more important matters to concern yourself with,” Ava interjected. You stopped wrestling Yelena into the couch, though you kept your grip on her wrists tight.

“Like what?” You asked Ava. Yelena took that opportunity to flip you around. You groaned as your back hit the couch.

“Well, first of all, I think we all know you’re underneath the wrong person right now,” Ava laughed. Yelena laughed too, having finally rendered you powerless. Damn Russian spies.

“But I’m pretty sure a shower means a shave, too. There might still be time to stop him, if you hurry,” she shrugged, sipping her tea.

“God, was I really that obvious?” You gave up. Yelena released your wrists, and you got up, brushing your hair out of your face.

“I think if it had been any more obvious we’d have to call a plumber over to investigate a leak,” Yelena said, catching her breath. Your jaw dropped at her words.

“What? It’s true. I mean we knew you were into Bob, but the heart eyes you gave him when you walked in? Astronomical.”

“What do you mean ‘we knew you were into Bob’?” You put quotation marks around it. The thought had hardly even crossed your mind before tonight. Both women laughed as if you’d made the funniest joke imaginable.

“What do you mean ‘What do you mean’? You’ve been drooling over him ever since–” Ava was going to spill, but Yelena held her hand up, stopped her.

“You’re saying you weren’t into Bob before tonight?”

“I mean, he’s cute. But… I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it, I guess.”

“But we’ve been trying to–” Ava was once again cut off by Yelena.

“The beard is all it took? That was all he had to do?” Her voice held a tone of disbelief.

“The t-shirt helps, too…” you admitted sheepishly. It was only then that it registered what Ava had said. “FUCK, you’re right. He can’t go shave now!” Your eyes shot towards the hallway he’d disappeared into, before meeting Ava’s.

“Well what are you waiting for? By all means, go stop him.” she gestured towards the hallway.

“Go stop him?? I can’t just waltz into the bathroom and say ‘Hey, don’t shave because then I can’t imagine what your stubble will feel like between my thighs while you’re eating me out.’ I have no–” The amused shock on their faces spoke for them. You closed your eyes and turned around, where Bob stood with his jaw slack.

“We’re out of towels…” was all he said. He quickly walked into the laundry room, grabbed towels and hurried back to the bathroom. You turned to Ava and Yelena, unsure of what to do.

“Well he knows, now. What’s stopping you? Go climb him like a tree! Show him some of those wrestling moves you showed me just now, while you’re at it,” Yelena shoved you off the couch.

“You guys are horrible and I hate you very much,” you grumbled, getting off the floor.

“Yeah, yeah. You can thank us later,” Yelena got up and used all her weight to push you towards the hallway. You stumbled over your feet and dragged them to Bob’s door. You hesitated before knocking lightly. You held your breath as you heard him shuffling around before opening the door.

Bob Reynolds stood before you with only a towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. In all the months you’d lived at the tower, you had yet to see him without a shirt. That in combination with the new facial hair? Murderous. Lethal.

He was about to speak but was cut off as you decided to throw everything to all hell and just push into his room, place your hands on his face and pull him in for a kiss. He quickly recovered, putting an arm around you and using the other to quickly slam and lock the door behind you. The tenacity with which he kissed you was addicting.

He finally pulled away to breathe. “If I’d known you liked it that much–” he started, interrupting himself with a soft moan as you kissed up his jawline. “I’d have grown it out months ago.”

“Shut up,” you said breathlessly. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him against your lips once more. You gripped his locks tightly. His stubble felt rough against your face. He toyed with the hem of your shirt, unsure whether to take it off. You helped him take it off, making quick work of throwing it in a random corner. Your sweatpants followed, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.

“I should–” Bob spoke between kisses. “–at least go turn the shower off.” It had been on all this time, steaming up the bathroom and in turn his bedroom.

“We can shower together, if you want,” you suggested, fingering the edge of the towel still tightly wrapped around him.

“Yeah– Yeah I pick that option,” he smiled, leading you into the bathroom and shutting the door. You took off your bra and shimmied your panties down your legs, kicking them into the corner. The towel around his waist was gone. You put a hand on his abdomen, softly passing over his abs down to his hard cock.

“All for me?” You whispered.

“Yeah, you painted quite the picture back there. Something something, me eating you out?” He cradled the back of your head and brought you in for a soft, sensual kiss. You lazily stroked him, getting a feel for his length. You didn’t know what you’d expected. He was big.

He pushed you into the shower, soaking you with water. He brushed your hair away from your face, slicking it back so it wouldn’t get in the way as it got wet. His own hair fell in front of his eyes. He slicked it back once more before trailing kisses down to your chin. Your hands came up to his chest, steadying yourself. You leaned against the cold, wet tile of the shower when he kissed your neck hungrily.

He mouthed at your body, quickly sinking to his knees. The water hit him so beautifully. He gently rubbed his chin against your thighs, teasing you. The stubble tickled, sending goosebumps up your spine. He moved on to the other thigh, holding both of them in his hands. He peppered kisses all the way up your legs, making sure to leave a trail of tingles behind wherever his beard had made contact with your skin.

You were growing impatient, but he took his time. Your breathing was rapid, and he hadn’t even done anything yet. He tenderly pulled at your legs. “Open them for me, baby,” he sounded as breathless as you felt. You obliged, making room for him to nestle himself fully between your thighs. The higher he worked with his mouth, the more sensitive you became. He leaned his cheek against your thigh and gazed up. It was a hungry, depraved look. You ran your fingers through his hair again, silently begging him closer to where you needed him most.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered, and placed a soft peck on your inner thigh. He was so close, yet he kept kissing around where you wanted him. He didn’t break eye contact when he finally placed the smallest of kisses on your pussy. You’d never seen him so confident as in that very moment, on his knees between your legs. He brought his face closer and started sucking your clit. Your knees felt weak at the sensation. The added coarseness of his beard was the perfect combination of soft and rough.

Your head hit the wall harshly as you threw it back, a loud moan echoing from your lips. He made out with your cunt as if he was a man starving. Your grip on his hair tightened when he experimentally added a finger into the mix, circling your entrance.

“Fuck, Bob,” you moaned, wishing he’d just put it inside. You bucked against his face, seeking more friction. His beard was going to leave a rash if you kept this up. Somehow, you didn’t care.

A deep moan rumbled from his mouth against your clit. The sensation was so good, your other hand reached down to tug him closer against it. He chuckled, another sound that had no right feeling that good when being made against your skin.

He pushed the finger inside, slowly working you open. Not that you needed it, at that point. You were soaked, and not just from the shower. The things this man did to you. Within no time he added a second finger, scissoring you open.

Heat built in your core as you quickly got closer and closer to the edge. You no longer had any control of the soft noises escaping your lips or your fingers tightening in his hair. Your toes curled and you squeezed your eyes shut. He added another finger, then.

You peeled your eyes open, enthralled by just him. He was humping the air absentmindedly at the same rhythm his fingers were working inside of you, desperate to be touched. He couldn’t touch himself though, one hand preoccupied holding you up, the other curling its fingers inside of you. He was dedicated to getting you to come in his mouth, and he was succeeding fast.

He circled his tongue around your clit just right. A high pitched keen left you as he curled his fingers against your G-spot repeatedly. You could feel your legs starting to tremble. His grip on your thigh tightened, determined to keep you standing. You ground against his tongue, breathing erratically.

“Shit, Bob. I’m gonna come,” you warned. He kept going, sucking and licking until you snapped.

“Come for me,” he groaned. “Come on my mouth.”

Your vision went blind for a second as you came, riding out your high on his fingers.

“Fuck!” You moaned, uncaring of who’d overhear.

Bob kept sucking, kept thrusting his fingers against that perfect spot. You hissed and tugged at his hair, trying to get him to get up. He didn’t relent.

“Taste so good,” he groaned. “So wet.”

He took his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. You were glad for the break, but his lips worked overtime. A newfound passion arose inside him to get you to come again now that he had a hand wrapped around his cock. He stroked idly, more focussed on your pleasure than his own.

“I– I can’t. Fuck,” you whined. Your body was on fire, the hot water pouring down on you not helping your case. How the man hadn’t drowned yet, whether from your pussy or the shower, was beyond you.

“Yes you can,” he grumbled. “For me?” It sounded so innocent. His pupils were blown wide as he sought eye contact, pleading you to come again. It was building up quickly. You hadn’t even caught your breath from your previous orgasm. Just as you were about to tip over the edge again, he stopped abruptly, standing up.

A frustrated sob escaped your lips, but it was cut off by a desperate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

“Want you to come on my cock,” he mumbled. You nodded quickly, taking him in your hand and stroking him. He put his hands around your waist and lifted you up like you were a feather. God, that super strength was a turn-on. He pushed you against the wall of the shower and lined himself up. He didn’t waste any time, pushing himself to the hilt.

He moaned loudly in your ear as he bottomed out. It was the sexiest sound you’d ever heard.

“F-fuck. So tight– God,” he couldn’t complete a sentence as he began rhythmically pounding inside. You held onto him for dear life. You were still so, so close. He kissed you hard, like this was his only chance. You leaned your head against the wall, lips sputtering as the water hit your face.

“Bob,” you moaned. He sucked harshly at the bottom of your jaw. His hips snapped harshly, the sound of skin against skin vulgarly echoing through the bathroom. You tightened your legs around his waist, trying to get him to go deeper.

“Waited so long for this,” he gushed. “Wanted you so bad.”

“Yeah?” you replied breathlessly. He was mesmerized by the way your tits bounced with every thrust.

“Mmhmm. Didn’t think you wanted me,” he admitted, peppering more desperate kisses on your neck.

“I do. Shit,” you whined. “So much.”

“Fuck, baby. Come on my cock. Come for me, please,” he pleaded, hips speeding up.

Your nails scratched at his back, no doubt leaving red trails behind. You dug into his shoulders, gripping them tightly. The muscles underneath your fingers were sturdy.

You came again with a loud wail of his name. You put your hands on his face, tugging him against your mouth and kissing him deeply. You couldn’t stop kissing him. Couldn’t stop feeling that delicious stubble against your chin. It scratched your palms as you caressed his face.

His hips stuttered against yours. You could only hope the sound of the shower drowned out the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt with every harsh thrust.

“Cum inside me,” you begged. “Please, need it.”

“Fuck, are you sure?” Bob asked, ever the gentleman.

“Please, Bob.” That sent him over the edge, shooting his spend inside of you.

“Shit,” he whimpered. His palm made contact with the tiles beside your head, cracking on impact. Neither of you seemed to care at that moment. Your eyes sought his, and you found them glowing. He held you tight as he rode out his orgasm, lazily pumping inside of you as the water washed away your sweat.

He held you against him, still holding you up against the wall. He let his head fall against your shoulder as he caught his breath. Both of you gasped lightly when he finally pulled out, cum dripping to the floor of the shower, immediately washing down the drain.

He gently put you back down, careful to not let you slip. Your legs felt weak. You wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself up. You tugged him down, craning your neck so you could steal another kiss.

You kissed softly for a while, before deciding you’d wasted enough water. He took his 2-in-1 shampoo and squirted some on his hands. He put some in your hair, softly massaging your scalp. You held your arms around his waist as he worked the shampoo through your hair.

“We’re going out tomorrow and buying you some actual proper products. Who still uses 2-in-1 shampoo?” You scoffed. He laughed and agreed.

“Okay, boss.” You smiled up at him as you let the water wash away the suds. You took some of the shampoo and returned the favour, washing his hair. He had a dumb smile on his lips the entire time, looking down at you lovingly.

The same process repeated with his body wash. It wasn’t anything special, but you loved the scent. It smelled like him. He roamed your body with his hands, massaging your shoulders as he went. He spent some extra time fondling your chest. You still hadn’t fully recovered from the heated session just now, yet you could feel the fire starting again.

“Hmmm,” you moaned. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” You washed down his abdomen, and already found him hard again.

“Superhuman stamina, remember?” Bob grinned.

“Amazing,” you sighed. You gave him a few experimental tugs, and he hissed, gently slapping your hand away.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not sensitive.”

You finished up in the shower and realized there was only the one towel to dry the both of you. You made do and walked into Bob’s room.

He lent you a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. “I didn’t know you owned several short sleeved t-shirts,” you joked.

“I don’t wear them very often,” he laughed, putting on some sweatpants and a sweater. He looked like his cozy self again, if you didn’t count the stubble. The very very sexy stubble.

“Well, I like you in them. You should wear them more often. Really highlights your biceps.” You flexed yours as a joke. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and mirrored your pose.

“God, if you do that we’re never going to make our way out of your bedroom,” you groaned.

“Good. Then I’ll never have to shave again.” Bob wrapped an arm around your waist and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Please never shave again. It’s so hot. Like. So hot.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Asshole,” you slapped his chest.

You walked out to the living room together, ready to face the music. Ava and Yelena were still where you’d left them, on the couch. At the sight of you, both grinned.

“About time, loverboy,” Ava commented.

“Remind me to never buy a razor again,” Bob said as he plopped down on the couch.

“I’m gonna personally shave your face in your sleep if this is gonna be a recurring thing. My poor, poor ears.” Yelena groaned. You threw a pillow at her face, which she caught, of course.

“I’ll kill you for real if you do, Belova,” you threatened.

“I’d love to see you try.”

You were about to jump her again, but Bob pulled you against his side. You melted into his hold. You could get used to this.

#robert reynolds x you #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds fanfic #robert reynolds #bob x reader #bob reynolds #bob thunderbolts

2K notes · View notes

wheezyreads · 2 months ago

Text

seriously what the hell do you lace your fics with?

how i feel after reading your fics 🤞🏽

this was so good and i dont even read omegaverse (but i’ll read anything you write)

you had me so anxious sentry was gonna take over, but really would i have been thaaat bad if he did 😋

anyways fuck val tho… bitch

Unstoppable Force | Omegaverse Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader

Summary: He hadn't had his rut in YEARS. You took suppressants. Some manipulation from Val made sure both those things would change.

Contents: SMUT, mild dubcon, Omegaverse, fem!reader, Alpha!Bob, Omega!Reader, No Y/N, thunderbolts!reader, penetrative sex (p in v), breeding, designations aren't obvious until rut/heat, creampie, light possessiveness, if I missed any tags let me know!

WC: 4.6K

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Masterlist

A/N: I still have Bob brainrot and was thinking about a A/B/O fic and couldn't find any so I wrote it. I've never written A/B/O before so yeah do with that what you will. had to hold myself back from using the phrase 'lost in the sauce' so be glad that's not in the middle of the smut y'all

“I’m not sure I understand,” you let Valentina know. “How is this going to improve my fighting?” She took back the folder she’d slid to you across the table.

“It’s just some testing, nothing more. Now if you’ll just come with me, I’ll go get us some more drinks. We’ll discuss the details later.” Val said as she picked up the cup she’d handed you earlier. Whatever it had been, it had been sweeter than you preferred.

“I’m good, thanks. Where are we going?” You politely declined another drink. You walked through a hallway with no windows, no doors, except for the one all the way at the end. Val entered a code into the keypad and held the door open.

“Just wait in here, I’ll be right back.”

Your eyebrows raised when you walked into the room. It looked nothing like a meeting room, or a laboratory, for that matter. A large mirror was hung on the back wall. The door closed behind you suddenly. The echo startled you out of your focused assessment of the room. A door on the other side opened, and the hairs on the back of your neck immediately stood up.

Alpha.

The smell was blinding, almost making you want to hunch in on yourself. It was natural for it to overtake all of your thoughts, yet it surprised you how much it made you pause in your tracks. Whoever it was smelled phenomenal. You slowly backed away, making sure that whatever you did, you didn’t run. Your back met with the door and you grasped for the handle blindly, twisting it, only to find it locked. You cannot be serious.

“Val?!” You questioned loudly, sure by now the room was being surveilled. She’d tricked you. To do what, you weren’t sure yet. You shouldn’t have trusted her. Shouldn’t have let your guard down, even for a second.

Your eyes finally caught what your nose had already told you, hunched in the doorway. Bob? He wasn’t an Alpha, right? He was a Beta, Yelena had told you herself. Was there someone else behind him? There must be. You tried to look around him, but suddenly his frame looked broader than you’d ever recalled it being.

“Bob? What’s going on?” You questioned. His eyes snapped to yours. He looked just as alarmed to see you as you felt.

“You can’t be serious!” Bob yelled out to nobody in particular, banging on the door that had closed behind him, presumably also locked. “You can’t do this to her!”

His breathing was irregular as he spoke your name. “You need to stay back. Just– Just stay there, on that side of the room. I’ll stay here and we’ll wait it out.” He hunched in on himself and crouched into the corner furthest from you, behind a lavish bed.

This wasn’t research. You still didn’t understand what Val was up to, but this couldn’t be good.

“Bob, please tell me what we’re doing in here,” you pleaded softly, though you did as he said and followed his example, hunching in the opposite corner.

“They can’t do this to you,” he mumbled. “It’s not fair.”

“You’re scaring me,” you whispered. He scoffed a laugh.

“Good. You should be,” he refused to look at you, turning his face into the wall. All this time, the looming scent of Alpha hadn’t left the room. It was messing with your ability to think.

“You’re a Beta, right?” You searched for any change in his body language for an answer. His spine stiffened.

“... Right?” You begged. You already knew the answer. All these months in the tower, it had somehow slipped past all of you that Bob was, in fact, an Alpha.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “This– It wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“What is this place?” You looked around the room, trying to spot a way out. It was hard to think critically when every nerve in your body was starting to scream at you to go over to Bob.

“It’s… hard to explain. Just… Stop talking, please,” he cupped his hands over his ears.

“I’ll stop talking when I understand what the hell is going on!” You were getting frustrated with him. You were scared. Your stomach turned as your fingers began to tingle. You brought your hands up to your lips, remembering the drink Valentina had given you. She hadn’t drank any herself. Fuck, how could you be that stupid?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he repeated.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen, Bob?” He gasped softly at the mention of his name.

“Don’t– Don’t say that. Don’t say my name.” He demanded. You raised your hands in mock defense.

“You have to understand,” he started. “They said they were going to help me. They promised.” He averted his attention from the wall to the ceiling.

“This is cruel!” He yelled at the ceiling. “You don’t know what’s gonna happen! What I– What he might do to her!” Did he? Did he know what was going to happen? He obviously knew something, knew more than you.

You saw him slump against the wall, roughly hitting his head against it. He turned, finally making eye contact. You drew in a sharp breath. His eyes were flickering gold, the way they only did when he was using his powers. This wasn’t right. He had been working on controlling it for months now.

“It’s been years. They– They said they’d help me,” he ran a shaky hand over his face, laughing at his own past stupidity. “I should’ve known they’d pull something like this.”

“You have to tell me what’s happening. Fucking spit it out already,” you demanded.

“I haven’t had a rut in over 15 years,” Bob informed you. “But I’m having my first one right now.”

Fuck.

No no no no no no no no no NO–

“You– Right now?”

“Right now.” Bob nodded.

You had to get out of here. It’s not that you didn’t want Bob. Quite the opposite, actually. But he wasn’t going to be in his right mind. God, you should’ve known the second you smelled an Alpha that you were in trouble. Actually smelling someone’s designation could only mean two things; either they were experiencing very extreme emotions, or they were nearing a rut/heat. You couldn’t think about the smell. Couldn’t let it get to you, or it would trigger your heat.

“I’m assuming you’re an Omega?” Bob distracted you from your thoughts.

“Yeah… I didn’t think it mattered!” You cried. “I’ve been on suppressants for forever. I haven’t had my heat in like… God, 5 years? Maybe 6? Val said they were just going to do some testing with my new suit… I should never have trusted her.”

“I think I’m going insane,” Bob laughed maniacally. “It’s like I can smell you. But that’s impossible if you’re taking suppressants.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, actually,” you winced. “She gave me a drink. Didn’t think anything of it because apparently I’m an idiot.”

“She spiked it with something?” His breathing was getting more and more laboured. He was realizing by now that you had been set up, too. This was all an elaborate scheme.

You shrugged. “I guess we’ll be finding out real soon if she did, and with what.”

Bob turned his back to you, back facing the wall. You could tell from the heaving of his shoulders that he was breathing heavily. He was trying his best to stay in control.

You, too, felt like you were slowly but surely losing your mind. Whatever Val had given you was working fast. You could feel sweat build up on the back of your neck. You were tempted to take off your clothes, but were sure that wouldn’t exactly make the situation any easier for Bob. You could deal with the temperature, as long as he stayed away and didn’t trigger your heat.

It had been so long you’d had one, and even when you did, you’d never spent it with an Alpha. A rutting Alpha? Even better. No. Don’t think about that. Don’t think about his rut. Don’t think about what he could be thinking about. Don’t think about what he could do to you. Don’t think about his knot.

Shit.

You were definitely thinking about his knot, now.

So what if you’d been harbouring a secret crush on him for months? It had been harmless, up until now. He was relying on you to control yourself, and you were messing that part up real fast.

The temperature was rising quickly. The room was too small for an Alpha experiencing his rut, especially with an unmated Omega so nearby. You untied your shoes, trying to find the best way to cool down without setting him off. You put your socks in your shoes. It helped for about 0.3 seconds.

A familiar feeling was starting to build in your stomach. It wasn’t discomfort, exactly. Dissatisfaction. An itch. A need.

You tried to hold it in. You really did. His scent was so overwhelming. That combined with the fact that your system had been flushed clear of all suppressants for the first time in years? You were fucked.

A soft whisper of your name rang from the other side of the room. It sent a shiver up your spine. You understood, now, why he’d begged you not to say his name. It was like he was speaking directly to the part of you that was holding up your reserve, and crumbling it.

“Hmm?” You acknowledged painfully.

“How… How are you feeling?” Bob asked quietly. He’d likely smelled it already. The desperation. His rut had triggered your heat. Neither of you were going to be able to hold back.

“Like I’m slowly burning from the inside, but other than that, peachy,” you replied sarcastically, bringing your hand to your forehead to wipe away the beads of sweat.

“I don’t know– I don’t know how much longer I can control this. It’s been so long…” He didn’t dare turn around. Maybe you should turn your back to him, too. Maybe then it was easier to keep your mind off him. You decided to give it a try. The second you tore your eyes off him, you felt a dire need to put them back on him. You resisted, for now.

You heard the ruffling of fabric. You were so tempted to turn around. The heat was getting to him. He’d taken off his sweater and let out a small sigh of relief. It sounded downright pornographic, though you were sure any sound he made at this point would sound like that to your ears.

You decided that, since neither of you were looking, it couldn’t hurt to take your shirt off as well. You grabbed it by the hem and lifted it over your head, leaving you in your bra and pants. The air was a lot colder, bringing goosebumps and relief to your skin. You discarded the shirt somewhere behind you.

The smallest of whimpers escaped your lips. It was really starting now. A trickle of slick escaped your core, and you knew he could smell it. Your senses were overwhelming you, telling you to rip all your (and his) clothes off and just get it over with. You couldn’t give in. Not with whatever Val had been planning to happen.

“Bob?” He moaned obscenely at the mention of his name. He acknowledged your questioning tone with a small groan.

“I– I just think I should tell you something, before…” you didn’t have to finish the sentence.

“What is it?” He grunted. The sound of a zipper opening made you freeze in your tracks. Was he…?

“I– these last few months… I just– I’m not sure how to say this,” you started. You just wanted to reassure him it was okay if he broke. You wanted him, regardless. It was okay to lose control. You knew he’d already smelled your pussy from across the room, yet still felt like a schoolgirl about to admit her crush.

“It’s okay… If you, y’know. I– I like you, Bob,” more rustling from the other side of the room. You were fighting with every fibre in your body not to turn around.

“You’re just saying that,” he gasped out. “Because of the– the heat.” You could hear him moving. The sound was slick, though ever so silently. He was touching himself.

“I’m not! I like you. I do,” you were squirming, trying to find a position that would alleviate the building pressure in your abdomen. You rolled your shoulders, the tension in your neck was killing you. All you wanted to do is throw your head back and expose your neck for him.

The slick movement was increasing in speed. He sounded delicious, even though he was obviously trying to contain all the small moans and whimpers. Whether it was to spare you the need or himself the embarrassment, you were unsure.

“Are you,” you bit your lip. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” he groaned out. “‘M sorry… I can’t– It’s, fuck, just– Stop talking.”

“It’s okay,” you were surprised by the sensual tone of your voice, barely above a whisper.

“Stop. Talking,” you could tell he was close. His laboured breath was something you wished to feel against your skin. You slowly snuck a hand into your waistband, no longer able to control yourself. You gasped when your finger made contact with your clit.

“Fuck, no, are you? Oh fuck,” Bob immediately groaned loudly, immediately coming at the thought of you touching yourself to the sound of him doing the same. He held the base of his cock tightly, refusing to pop a knot right then and there. Coming inside of his boxers was bad enough.

You took your pants off, no longer content with it limiting your range of movement. Had all your previous heats felt like this? You couldn’t remember ever feeling this out of control, this insane. Fucking hell, you could smell his cum. He really wasn’t helping the situation right now.

“Do you feel better?” You asked. An orgasm usually helped keep the hormones at bay, even if it was only for a few minutes.

“No, I hoped I would but I–” He clenched his teeth tightly. You circled your clit with two fingers, willing your hips to keep still as to not obscenely go and fuck your own hand.

You knew you made a mistake the second your resolve broke and you sent a glance over your shoulder to look at him. He’d been able to control his need to turn around, still facing the wall. It didn’t matter. His sweaty, naked form, heaving from his orgasm, was enough to enthrall you. He instantly noticed you’d gone silent. Worried for your wellbeing, he slowly turned around, meeting your hungry gaze.

Something snapped. He flung his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. The force had cracked the concrete on impact. He groaned loudly, every muscle straining, fighting to keep his hands off you. Your parted lips, wide eyes, undressed form, it was his undoing.

The sight of him losing control was enough to send you over the edge. A high pitched whine escaped your lips, your toes curling. His eyes snapped open, lips parting at the display. He was on your body before either of you could blink. His powers were taking over. He pinned your arms above your head, to the floor. While you were only in your underwear, his pants had yet to leave his body.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this,” he spoke, scanning your face.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him again, trying to wiggle out of his hold. “I want you. Wanted you long before today.”

He released your wrists and brought a hand to your cheek, softly caressing it and taking you in for a moment. He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe you wanted him.

“I’m not gonna be able to stop,” Bob confessed. You flung your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You leaned into his ear to speak, feeling his hot breath on your neck.

“Then don’t.”

It was enough. He kissed you hungrily, bringing your body as close to his as it could go. He tasted every bit as good as he smelled. His hands made quick work of your bra and underwear. Your head whirled as your back suddenly met the soft mattress. His powers. He was so fast. So strong. The bed swallowed you.

He was biting at your lips, nipping at the skin of your jaw. The only way you could explain it was feral. You put your hands on the waistband of his jeans, tugging them down. The zipper was still open from his previous endeavours. “Off,” you demanded between kisses. He shimmied them off while maintaining contact with his mouth to your skin at all times.

“Never would’ve guessed,” you breathed as he worked his mouth down your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking harshly. “–that you were an Alpha.”

“What, I’m not imposing enough?” He laughed, making eye contact and switching to the other nipple. There was a big, noticeable wet patch in his underwear from where he’d come in them before. He quickly shimmied out of those, too. His cock slammed up against his abdomen, already hard again and ready to go. God, he was big.

“Hmmm, you’re too sweet,” you told him. It was true. He always made an extra cup of tea so you could have one. Did the laundry for the others. Made sure everybody’s favourite snacks were at the tower at all times. He was just so thoughtful.

“Wanna take care of you,” he came back up, having spent enough attention on your breasts, for now. “Is that not an Alpha thing?”

“Now that you mention it…” He did have a point. An Alpha took care of their people. All the things he did so the team was at their best was exactly that. You tugged him back down to smash your lips against his again. You could spend eternity like this. You were going to get addicted to kissing him.

You trailed your hands down his chest, over his tight abdomen. “Can’t even begin to tell you how hot I think you are,” you informed him. His eyebrows shot up.

“Really?” He started kissing dangerously close to your mating glands. The feeling of anticipation was killing you. You craned your neck to the side instinctively, giving him more access. The feeling burned, in a good way.

A new wave of desperation washed over you. It was starting to hurt, your eyes blurring with tears as you tried to work through the burn. Bob noticed something was off, pulling away for a second to check on you. While noble, it only made the feeling worse.

“You okay?” He asked, eyes scanning your face for any discomfort. Like a good Alpha.

“It– It hurts, Bob,” you whined. “Please, make it stop.”

“I’ll make it stop. I’ll help you, baby,” he whispered, bending back down to suck a hickey over your mating gland. A promise. He ground his hips down, sliding his cock between your wet folds. The contact made both of you moan. Bob’s jaw fell slack as he closed his eyes, throwing his head back.

“Fuck me, Bob,” you put your hands on his shoulders. “Need you inside of me.”

“Look so good like this,” Bob mumbled as he took his length in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance. You prepared yourself mentally for the stretch. He shuddered as he slowly pushed his tip inside, spreading you open. It notched inside and he paused for a second, checking to see if you were okay.

You were more than okay, lost in your heat, desperate to get him deeper. You gave him a small nod, signalling for him to please continue pushing inside. The stretch felt amazing. If you had ever doubted his Alpha status, the feeling of his girth inside you would’ve changed your mind. You were so full. He still wasn’t all the way inside, going torturously slow.

When he finally bottomed out, you stopped breathing. Bob’s eyes snapped closed, mouth agape as the pleasure of feeling you around him overtook his senses. A sense of satisfaction settled in your body. The fact you were finally giving in, finally letting yourself be filled by an Alpha during your heat, was a taste of something you wouldn’t ever get enough of. You almost felt complete. There were only 2 things missing;

A knot, and his teeth biting your neck.

“M-move, now,” you demanded. He obliged, dragging his hips back gently. When he snapped them forward again, you couldn’t hold back a moan.

“That’s it,” Bob nuzzled your neck, pulling his cock out and snapping forward faster this time. Your exorbitant amount of slick made the slide much easier. If this would become a recurring thing, you weren’t sure you’d even be able to take him outside of your heat.

“Gonna make you mine,” he groaned. “Nobody else can have you.” Another gleam of gold flashed through his eyes. God, you sure hoped Val was prepared for Sentry to make an appearance, because it was looking like that might be the case by the end of this.

“Already yours,” you sighed. “Always have been.”

“Say it again,” he pleaded. “Say you’re mine.”

He probably hadn’t intended for it to be an Alpha command. It had just slipped out.

“I’m yours– All yours. Only you,” you whimpered out, unable to resist the command even if you’d wanted to. It had sent a new rush of heat spreading through your body. A newfound sense of need settled in your very being. You needed him closer, deeper, anything. You’d crawl into his skin if it were possible.

You knew he felt it too, what the Alpha command had done to you. You’d tightened around him, clenching his cock tightly. A mischievous expression took over his face. His balls slapped against your cunt as he finally started fucking you the way you needed. Hard. Frantic. Feral.

“Fuck, Bob!” You keened. He’d found that spot. You dug your nails into his back, desperate to keep him going exactly like that. “Don’t stop.”

“So good for me,” Bob moaned. The way he chanted your name like a prayer was obscene. “All mine.”

He dropped his head to your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and tonguing around it. He kneaded your other boob with his hand, rough enough to sting, but so, so good.

“So pretty,” he babbled. He was losing his sanity to his rut. “You smell so good.” He was nuzzling your neck again, inhaling your scent deeply, committing it to his permanent memory.

“It’s like you were made for me. So tight. Perfect fit,” Bob mused. You could feel it, too. The way he filled you exactly to the brim. Stretched you out just enough for you to feel so, so full.

He pounded into you, but it wasn’t enough. “More, Alpha. Please,” you begged. Bob lost all sense of control at the title.

“Such a good Omega for me,” he grazed his teeth over your mating gland. It sent your head reeling, dizzy with pleasure.

“Please.” What you were begging for, you didn’t know.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Bob whispered with haggard breaths. He brushed your hair out of your face, cradling it in his hands as he continued his brutal pace, chasing both of your highs.

You knew you were getting close, the knot in your stomach tightening. Bob grabbed your hips tight, snapping his hips forward. You were sure there’d be finger shaped bruises all over your body by morning, but you couldn’t find yourself to care.

One of his hands worked itself between your bodies, seeking contact with your clit. Your head slammed back against the pillow, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Holy shit.

“Ah, Bob- fuck, oh-” you sought anything to hold onto, settling on the sheets underneath your body. Your knuckles turned white as you held on tightly. Your jaw fell slack at the sensation. He was trying to make you come, and he was succeeding.

“Come for me, O-Omega,” he moaned loudly. “Ah- Come on my cock.” His voice was faltering with the sheer effort he was putting into fucking you right. He was mesmerised at the sight of your tits bouncing wildly with the rhythm and force of his hips pounding into yours.

“Knot me,” you begged. You needed it. Needed it right now.

“‘F course I’ll knot you,” Bob reassured you. “Gonna fuck my cum inside you. Fill you up real good.”

“Fuck, please.” The thought of him filling you up to the brim drove you insane with lust. “Alpha, please, knot me, knot me.”

“So good for me, baby. Come for me,” his fingers sped up, circling your clit in tandem with his thrust. His hips were starting to falter, he was getting close. A tear rolled down the side of your face at the intensity.

He bent down and bit down on your neck, exactly where you needed him to. You were screaming out his name, gripping his shoulders tight as you came on his cock. You shuddered, body tightening with your orgasm. Your vision went white as the bond settled in and connected your very being to him. Mates.

Bob groaned loudly as his hips stuttered, filling you up with his cum. You could feel the base of his cock swell, stretching your entrance and locking you together. He ground his hips, now unable to pull out, but desperate to keep fucking more cum inside of you.

He finally slumped over you, exhausted from the strain it had taken. He rolled over and pulled you on top of him. He placed a few soft kisses on your new mating mark. For a second, you rested just like that, still connected, chests heaving with deep breaths. Your mind was clearing of the fog brought on by the heat.

“I’m sorry,” Bob whispered, stroking your hair softly as you laid your head on his chest.

“Don’t be,” you picked your head up, looking him in the eyes. “I loved every second of it.”

“I did too,” Bob smiled, but then it faltered. “I’m just… Valentina…” Right. That was the whole reason you’d ended up in this situation.

“She’s probably looking for a way to replicate whatever they’ve done to you. Maybe she wants super babies,” you sighed. It was the only explanation you could think of. You felt his cock twitch inside you, making you gasp as another light spurt of cum came out of it.

“Don’t– Don’t talk about us having babies while I’m still inside of you.” You laughed and clenched around him intentionally, making him hiss and throw his head back.

The doors audibly unlocked, then. Bob quickly threw a blanket over your connected bodies.

“Well, are you going to thank me, or what?” It was Val. Of course it was.

“You better get the fuck out and leave us alone if you know what’s good for you,” Bob threatened.

“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” she grumbled, walking back out and closing the door behind her.

“I’m gonna kill her,” you grumbled, laying your head back on his chest and drawing tracing shapes on his chest.

“I’ll help you,” Bob agreed. You hated her, but at least you’d gotten a mate out of it.

#bob x reader #bob thunderbolts #robert reynolds fanfic #robert reynolds #robert 'bob' reynolds #robert 'bob' floyd x reader #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x you #this was so hot #youre a magician with words

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wheezyreads · 2 months ago

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mark getting head is so humbling because he squirms around and gets incredibly fucked out from the sensation of a warm mouth and the sensation of your tongue lapping at his tip.

but mark giving head is like an ego boost for him. you will not suffocate him if you sit on his face. he encourages you to ride his face and have no regard for his well being because he can lift you up easy peasy.

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wheezyreads · 2 months ago

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[ nsfw ] fun and games

tags: groping and teasing + mark using his strength to his advantage and your entertainment

☆ ... biting off more than you can chew is always fun with mark.

it's a lazy afternoon. mark hasn’t heard from cecil in hours, and he intends to take advantage of the radio silence while it lasts.

he lets himself drift in and out of shallow sleep. feeling the high noon sun fall over one of his outstretched legs. only barely hanging off the edge of his mattress and deliciously warm.

you’ve effectively glued yourself to him without much effort. clinging to his side and murmuring about something he can’t quite understand. your stories usually reel him in, but because of the precarious (lazy and cozy) circumstances, he finds himself compelled to close his eyes and lie so still he can feel the earth rotating on its axis.

whenever he closes his eyes for too long, you run your hands across his body. squeezing and groping the sinew of his muscles— playful and ridiculously endearing.

mark doesn’t think much of your hands and the way they roam his body. featherlight and curious as you appraise every part of him. his biceps first, then his pecs and then down to his abs.

he jolts when he feels one of your featherlight hands skim across the edge of his boxers. a finger tracing a line over his waist back and forth. coyly lifting up the garter band before letting it snap down.

he catches your offending hand, “whatcha doin’ ?”

you purse your lips, trying not to smile but failing. a lip splitting grin spreading across your face as his hand only tightens around yours.

“just exploring,” you sheepishly smile up at him.

he snorts, bringing up his free hand to rub the short lived sleep from his eyes. “totally nothing you haven’t felt or seen, yeah?”

“oh shut up grayson,” you wriggle to get even closer like you aren’t plastered to his side.

he still hasn’t let go of your hand, and you aren’t exactly backing down either. your free hand attempts to continue fiddling with the garter of his boxers but he easily engulfs your hand with his again.

“yeah,” he smirks at you with half lidded eyes. “two can play at this game too.”

with little effort he flips both of you so that you’re totally flat on the mattress.

“mark!” you exclaim when you feel his hands cup the figure of your waist.

he doesn’t look back up at you, instead he slides his thumbs into your shorts and hooks them into your underwear. teasingly tugging downward which makes you squirm.

“hey i’m just playing along,” he laughs in your face. “isn’t this what you wanted?”

you stick out your tongue, “well you aren’t really playing fair are you?“

he shakes his head, but shifts upward to kiss you on the forehead and then on your lips. “nah, but it’s fun isn’t it?”

mark only laughs— an incredibly sweet noise —when you let him take off your shorts and underwear in one fluid motion. only then does he let you fully dip your hand into his boxers.

#give it to me #mark grayson x reader

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wheezyreads · 3 months ago

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THIS IS DISGUTING…. the filth is filthing. dark, perverse void will always HIT

I LOVED IT 10/10 no notes

This one shot’s vibes

A Gilded Cage

Summary: As a mutant who can siphon energy and emotion, you’re brought onto the team by Val to control the Void—but things quickly spiral beyond expectation. Pairing: The Void x F!Reader x Bob Word Count: 4K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Dub-con, coercion and manipulation, elements of shame and guilt, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex and heavy angst.) Not all elements are tagged. A/N: My muse went a little feral on this one. Thank you to @writercole and @gettingvetted for beta'ing and to @seeyalaterinnovator and @trelaney for letting me scream in their DMs about this. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Masterlist | Lewis Pullman Masterlist

Valentina prepared you for this moment as best she could, providing you with exhaustive psychological profiles of Bob and the Void, along with video documentation. You even heard firsthand accounts straight from the team, and even from Bob himself. But now, standing before him, you realize none of it could truly capture the depth of what you faced.

The Void was not just a presence; he was an overwhelming, suffocating force that seemed to bend the very fabric of reality and leech the light from everything in sight. With each step towards him you feel that ever present core of hope within you flicker as the bright airy room of the tower decays into a greyish pallor. Instinctively you want to recoil, but you force yourself forward.

You have a job to do. And failure isn’t an option.

“I wondered when you’d show up,” he murmurs, his voice sliding through the air like smoke, curling into your bones and seeping into your mind.

He turns, his eyes fix on you, twin pinpricks of liquid gold, tracking your approach with unsettling attention. It’s as though he sees beyond your body, peeling away your thoughts, your fears, your very soul, layer by layer. It’s unnerving to be on the receiving end of such attention, to be seen so clearly like you see others. But where your gift brings comfort and calm, his unearths only discord and grief.

"Such a pretty little jailer Val sent." He tilts his head consideringly, and a hollow laugh follows. “No... not a jailer. Not really. Val’s little pet, aren’t you?” he says, something cold beneath the amusement. “She thinks you’re here to stop me.”

You don’t bother correcting him. Even if he can’t influence your emotions or force you to drown in the howling, bottomless pit that churns inside him, he still sees the invisible leash Val has coiled around your neck, pulling you this way and that for her own purposes.

“We need Bob back,” you reply calmly, advancing steadily towards him. Each step is slow and measured, your shoulders purposely relaxed.

“I won’t let go that easily,” he informs you.

“I know,” you say, moving close enough to brush the edge of his shadowed form.

His hand snaps out in an instant, seizing your wrist. His touch is impossibly cold, unnatural, and you recoil. Shame oozes from his grip, thick and black. It hurts more than you expect. You exhale softly, the sound barely audible, but you don’t let your emotions surface.

“I can take your pain,” you promise him. “Let me.”

Your aura unfolds into his, cool and steady, a salve to suffering he exudes. He shudders, and for a fleeting moment, the dark shroud surrounding him flickers, its shadowy tendrils thinning just enough for you to catch a glimpse of Bob beneath. His face is pale and drawn, and his lips part, a silent scream you never hear before the darkness clamps shut around him, and he’s gone again.

The Void releases a distorted hiss and pulls you flush against him. His form is solid, unnervingly real beneath the swirl of shadows. There's weight to him, oppressive and inescapable, and your heartbeat spasms against your chest.

“I know how your gift works,” he whispers, and his voice is a rasp just behind your ear, soft and invasive. “A handshake. A fleeting touch on a stranger’s arm. Subtle... harmless.”

Slowly, he drags his fingertips along the curve of your lower lip, tugging it down ever so slightly.

"We’ve read your file," he continues. "If you want to siphon anything from me, you'll need more than a brush of skin. You need prolonged contact. Something deeper…intimate. Lasting."

The words land heavy, and you freeze, a cold knot of revulsion twisting in your stomach. The light brush of his fingertips along the collar of your dress makes his meaning crystal clear, and for a moment, all you can do is stand there, paralyzed.

The Void smiles.

His mouth stretches wide, revealing sharp, immaculate teeth, bone-white against the surrounding black, a grotesque contrast to the glowing eyes above.

“I want your shame,” he says, voice low and full of hunger.

His hand rises to cup your jaw. Your fingers wrap around his wrist in an attempt to assert some measure of control, but your aura flares weakly, breaking against his like a wave crashing on rocks, its force dissipating without impact.

He smiles knowingly. “Give me what I want, and you’ll get Bob back,” he promises, his voice curling into your thoughts.

Disgust and anger burn away the shock you feel, and you grit your teeth, forcing your power to gather beneath your skin, feeling it pulse and swell with a steady, growing pressure. With a ragged exhale, you push outward, unleashing the full force of it. The wave of energy sends the Void several feet from you and washes away the darkness, leaving only Bob and you standing under the midday sun. He blinks at you, his expression shocked, and then he smiles, soft and sweet.

Relief floods your body, and for a heartbeat, the weight of the Void’s presence is gone from you both, but the moment is short-lived. Darkness shifts, gathering at his feet, swirling and reforming with unnatural speed. It moves like a tidal wave and in the blink of an eye, reclaims Bob and pulls him back under. Dark laughter follows, echoing for too long in the open space.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” he growls, closing the distance between you and pulling you firmly back against him.

A rush of adrenaline floods your veins, and you reach deep within, calling on your gift, urging it to the surface. Then, just as your power stirs, the Void’s next words freeze you in place.

“I know what Val promised you if you could control me,” he whispers. “And what will happen if you fail. Where she’ll send you.”

His words conjure images of sterile rooms, restraints, and faceless men in white coats. Places where people like you stopped being a person and became a subject. Somewhere you didn’t come back from. It takes everything you have not to let it consume you, not to let the panic, the gut-deep terror, slip free. A futile effort because the creature in front of you isn’t guessing how you feel or what will happen to you. He doesn’t need to. He knows.

Your throat tightens when you try to swallow, struggling to find your voice. When you force the words out they are thin and unsteady. "If that’s what you want from me, you could just take it.”

He sighs, long, exaggerated, as if the very idea disappoints him, but the hunger behind his eyes never dims.

"That’s boring," he says. "I want your submission. Your shame, little pet. The weight of knowing you traded a piece of yourself for your freedom. And knowing," he leans in until his mouth hovers inches from yours, “that you’ll do it again and again every time I emerge.”

“No,” you croak. “I won’t.”

The smile that spreads across his face is anything but comforting, an ugly gash that stretches across his blurred features. "Resist if it helps," he murmurs. "But we both know what you’ll eventually decide."

You turn away, your lashes fluttering in a futile attempt to block him out, to escape the suffocating proximity. His breath mingles with yours, the air around thick and heavy with his presence. It feels like you can’t even breathe. Then his large hand settles at your waist, and you flinch. His fingers flex against your flesh, possessive and eager in a way that makes your stomach churn. Every fiber of your being wants to pull away, to scream, but you know it’s pointless.

Fear and anger fizzle out as another feeling rises to the surface. Resignation. You are trapped, caught in a web spun not just by the monster in front of you, but by Val too. There’s no escaping this. No way to win. If you fail to return Bob, Val will hand you over to be dissected and studied. And if you do as he asks, you’ll be giving away a piece of yourself you can never get back.

There is only one choice, you realize. The same choice you’ve faced your whole life. To survive. To endure.

Your shoulders sag, heavy with defeat, and you lower your chin to your chest, the whisper of your acceptance barely audible. It tastes like ash in your mouth.

He moves instantly. His lips crash into yours, hard and consuming. There’s no tenderness, only raw, possessive hunger. The hand at your waist slides down, wrapping around your lower back, and then you feel your feet leave the floor. He lifts you effortlessly, holding you against him, suspended just above the ground like a doll in his hands.

It’s disorienting and your lungs burn, desperate for air, but he doesn't relent. His tongue, hot, almost scaldingly so, moves against yours with a force that overwhelms thought. You're so focused on the sensation that you don’t even notice you’re moving. Not until your back meets the cool glass of the window. The shock of it makes you gasp into his mouth as your feet touch the floor once more.

The Void pulls back and stares down at you, inhaling slowly until his breath spills into a low, primal groan, as if he’s tasting something in the air between you.

“Delicious,” he rasps.

Your pulse spikes, the fear you’re trying to suppress creeping up your throat, choking you.

“Val even dressed you so pretty for me.” His tone is mockingly sweet as his fingers toy with the hem of your dress.

The choice of your attire was deliberately chosen by her. No weapons. No armor. Not even a hint of the strength you carry. Just soft fabric in pale, passive shades that left your collarbone exposed, your legs bare. It was a costume crafted to make you look delicate. Harmless. The kind of vulnerability that would draw a predator close.

It was meant to disarm him, but now, with his fingers grazing your skin and his breath falling hotly against your ear, it’s clear it was never him left unguarded. It was always you.

The scrape of his teeth against your pulse point jolts you back into your body, sharp and sudden. A broken sound escapes your throat as he gathers your skin between his teeth and bites down possessively. Your fingers curl into the black, swirling mass of his chest, desperate to ground yourself and dissipate the pain.

“Shhh,” he whispers, laving his tongue over your tender skin. “You’ll like it soon enough,” he promises.

His hands trail up your sides, fingertips grazing the swell of your breasts with deliberate slowness. Bright eyes catch yours, steady and unblinking, studying every reaction. You can’t look away, even when one of his hands settles over the hollow at your throat. His long fingers span your neck with ease, and your chest rises in a trembling breath, tight with fear at what he means to do. But he only smiles, letting his fingers trail down to trace the gentle scoop of your neckline.

Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, and a shuddery gasp leaves you when they slip beneath, sliding under your bra to brush against bare skin. He teases one nipple and then another until they harden under his touch, sending a shock of desire through your body. The scrape of his nail across the sensitive peak has you jerking forward, lips parted. He captures them in an achingly gentle kiss, building a warmth in your chest you try to ignore.

“Will you taste as sweet as I imagine?” he questions.

You blink at him dumbly, your lips swollen and tender before suddenly he’s at your feet. All you can see of him is the unruly outline of Bob’s wild curls when he presses in close, urging your thighs apart. Without warning, he hooks one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, leaving you teetering on a single foot. His breath is warm and moist against your clothed core, and you feel it grow damp as he mouths along the fabric. Your hands hover, uncertain and trembling, before one instinctively moves to the crown of his head, more a reflex than intention, as if to push him away. But before you can act, his hand closes over yours, holding it there in a silent command. A twisted show of encouragement that turns your resistance into complicity.

He groans, a low, filthy sound that you know will haunt you. Your underwear is torn from your body with ease, allowing him to get his first taste of you. He drags the flat of his tongue slowly through the length of your cunt, lapping with unrestrained hunger, his nose nudging your clit with each pass. Your insides coil in a tense knot, torn between pleasure and revulsion under his unrelenting pace.

To have his mouth on you like this feels invasive, a violation of more than just your body. He’s taking pieces of you with every touch, and you can do nothing to stop him.

“So wet for me, little pet,” he croons. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

You clamp your mouth shut, lips drawn tight in defiance. You won’t give him the satisfaction, but he doesn’t seem to need it. The sting of shame burns beneath your skin, and he drinks it in with every slow, deliberate flick of his tongue against your cunt. Worse is the spike of desire that curls in your gut when he works one finger inside followed by another, the rough pad of his thumb circling your clit with precision. He seems to know just the rhythm to have you squirming beneath him. Then his mouth seals over your tender bud, and you cannot keep quiet any longer.

A desperate keen builds in your throat, spilling out between your unwilling lips. Your hips lift, and you follow the sensations he brings, unable to stop yourself as a powerful wave rolls through your body, nearly stealing your vision. The Void doesn’t relent, doesn’t give you a moment of reprieve. He works to make your body his, your pleasure and shame his greatest feast. You come again with a frantic chant of please, please, please, whether begging him to stop or to keep going, you can’t even tell. For the first time in forever, you realize it’s only you in your head. No echoes of another's feelings, no interference. Just the raw, unfiltered purity of your own emotions. And it feels so good.

You don’t want it to stop.

But then the Void pulls away, rising smoothly to his feet, just as your third orgasm threatens to break. You nearly reach for him, driven to soothe the ache deep between your thighs and feel something that is wholly, undeniably your own once more. The realization of what you were almost about to do crashes over you like ice water. Horrified, you pull back, the cold of clarity cutting through the haze.

“It’s been years since you’ve felt anyone’s warmth,” he murmurs, trailing the back of his hand along your cheek. “Val never let you wander far, did she?”

Your gaze flicks away from him, fixing on the high, vaulted ceiling. Humiliation crawls under your skin, burrowing deep inside as he continues to speak. He’s close enough that you can smell yourself on him.

“Nothing but your fingers to keep your company, leaving you needy for more. Desperate to be filled.”

Moisture clings to your lashes. You blink it back, unwilling to let it fall. A trembling breath escapes your lips, shaky and thin. You just need to get through this, get to the other side of today.

He chuckles, low and knowing, seeming to pluck the thought straight from your mind.

“Today’s only the beginning,” the Void promises.

Your limbs feel heavy, uncertain, and you let yourself slump against the glass wall behind you when he guides your leg around his hip. Even now, after everything, it shocks you how real he feels –not like a ghost, but flesh and bone. Solid. Warm. Present. It's wrong. He shouldn’t feel this human. Self-loathing coils with something more insidious in your chest. You hate how your body responds to the feel of his knuckles brushing over your cunt as he lines himself up. How it wants him.

You brace yourself for cruelty, for the same brutal hunger he turns on others. To be consumed, used, and broken. Instead, he’s tender, almost painfully so as he splits you open with his cock inch by inch. He wants you to feel every part of him until he’s fully seated inside you, your bodies pressed impossibly close together. The gentleness is disarming, unravelling you more than violence ever could, but it’s the weight of your own shame that eclipses everything else.

Effortlessly he lifts you from the ground, and without thinking, your other leg wraps around his hip, drawing him closer than you intend. Your hands find their place on his biceps, gripping them tightly for support, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. He continues his steady pace, and need sparks along your nerves.

He groans, his hand settling loosely around your throat, reminding you of his power.

Power.

The word reverberates through your fogged mind, thick with the weight of the Void’s presence and what he’s reduced you to. It’s a battle just to surface and to remember who you are beneath the haze, beneath the way he makes your body feel. But you have to. You have to.

Tentatively, you reach outward, your aura stretching like a fragile thread in the dark. It brushes against his, soft and searching. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even notice, lost to the ragged rhythm of his own breath, adrift in his pleasure.

So you press deeper.

You wrap around him, slowly, carefully, letting your light seep into the cracks of his being. The darkness yields, drinks you in like rain on sun-starved soil. You bring the Void closer, kissing him willingly for the first time. It’s a fight not to lose yourself in the warmth of him, the unexpectedly velvety feel of his lips as your power flows into him. Your own pleasure spikes as his increases into a frantic need. He abandons all pretense of gentleness, using your body to find his own end. Fingers dig painfully into your flesh, and the hand around your throat tightens.

Your eyes flutter, the blurred outline of his face sharpening just enough to betray something familiar about him. Bob’s features flicker beneath wispy shadows of the Void, like a memory struggling to surface. But the eyes… the eyes are wrong. Not Bob’s warm, weary gaze. They are something far more alien, golden white, and burning.

You gasp for air against the restriction of his hand and force yourself to reach deeper into the well of power buried within you. Your own fingers knot into the black mass of hair, grounding you, anchoring you, as your mouth crashes into his and your tongue claims his with fierce desperation. The energy stirs immediately, rising fast, vibrating just beneath your skin, a low hum that grows until the glass behind you seems to tremble with it. You hold on to it until it’s indistinguishable from your own guilt, fury, and desire.

“Give me it all,” the Void pants into your mouth. “Your shame, your need. Show me, show me, show me,” he chants.

Your back arches, a cry caught in your throat, energy pouring out of you and into him. Light encompasses you both, blinding in its intensity. Your orgasm sweeps up through your chest, spreading along every fiber of your being, flooding you with a kind of euphoria you’ve never experienced. The Void stills inside you, coming undone and flooding you with a scalding heat. You hold onto him, eyes squeezed tightly closed, overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that are not your own.

When you finally summon the strength to open your eyes, you're met with a pair of impossibly bright blue ones. But it's not the color that stops your breath.

It's the look on Bob’s face.

He stares down at you, wide-eyed, his features drawn tight with uncertainty. His brows are furrowed, lips parted as if caught between a question and an apology. So achingly human and different from the Void that you have no idea what to say to him.

Bob looks down at where your bodies are linked together, a visible shudder rippling through him. You slowly unwind your legs from around his waist, surprised when his hands remain steady beneath you. With surprising gentleness, he lowers you to the ground. You wince when he slips out from you, a stinging ache left behind in his absence. Cold air rushes in and you shiver, skin pebbling.

You press your legs together, smoothing your dress back into place. Across from you, he adjusts his own clothes, movements slow, shoulders rounded inward as though trying to make himself smaller. The silence stretches between you, but you feel his eyes on you, watching you through the damp curls clinging to his forehead.

He looks lost. Fragile in a way you hadn’t expected. And despite the horror you feel, something inside you aches to offer him comfort. But you stop yourself. His shame coils around you, thick and suffocating, merging with your own until you can no longer tell where his ends and yours begin. It threads through you both, binding tight – a connection you didn’t ask for stitched into the very fabric of who you are now.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he whispers.

And then he's gone.

You're left standing in the silence, alone once more. Time slips away, meaningless in the thick stillness that settles around you. It isn't until the soft ding of the elevator breaks the air that you remember how to breathe. The staccato rhythmic click of Val’s heels follows and your spine straightens before your mind catches up. You swipe at the wetness on your cheeks.

Everything hurts, from the sharp throb at your neck where his teeth found skin to the bruising pressure you already feel blooming at your hip. But nothing compares to the deep, lingering ache between your legs. A reminder you’ll feel for days.

“Well,” Val says, looking you up and down with a critical eye, “you look like a fucking mess.”

You blink at her, momentarily stunned, though you know by now you shouldn’t be. Not with Val. Never with Val.

“It’s good to see he left you in one piece,” she adds, lips curling into a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Her hand lifts to tug at the collar of your rumpled dress, inspecting the damage like she’s assessing a tear in upholstery. “Can’t say the same for your dress. Then again, I didn’t expect it to survive his… attention.”

You stare at her, the truth sinking in like a stone in your gut. She knew exactly how this would play out. From the start. And she handed you over, without hesitation, like it meant nothing. Rage wells in your chest, but horror swallows it whole, and you just stand there, hollow and trembling at the edges.

“Don’t fall apart on me now,” she says, exasperated. She gives your cheek two sharp, condescending pats. The sting lingers, and you flinch despite yourself.

“Go make yourself presentable so we can tell the team the good news,” she adds, pulling a small set of keys from her coat pocket and pressing them into your hand. They’re cold and heavy against your skin. “You earned your place here. Congratulations.”

Her heels click away without waiting for a response. You watch her retreating form, aching, marked, and trying to remember how it feels to breathe like yourself.

This is what you wanted, isn’t it? But it doesn’t feel like triumph. It’s just another prison, gilded and gleaming, but a cage all the same. You carved off a piece of yourself to get here. And as the silence settles in, you realize the real nightmare hasn’t even started.

♡

My inbox is open for your thoughts on this story, requests for drabbles in this verse or other stories about Bob!

#bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x you #robert reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x you #the void x reader #the void x you #bob reynolds

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wheezyreads · 3 months ago

Text

God

this was— wow

not a fair fight

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

summary: steve covers for robin at the hawkins fair. unfortunately for him, your booth is right across from his. he’s going to make you spit that gum out one way or another.

warnings: very brief discussion of weight (not towards reader), steve is an asshole, reader is a brat, brat taming, forced proximity kinda, enemies to lovers if you squint, f!oral, unprotected p in v, fingering, dom!steve lowkey, missionary, doggystyle, cock warming

word count: 5.6k

Steve hadn’t wanted to work the fair. He would have rathered to be at Tommy’s back to school party, but here he was, stationed under a rickety tent at the Hawkins fairgrounds, sweat beading on his forehead and gathering at the small of his back.

He wasn’t thinking when he made that deal with Robin.

Steve had struck a deal with Robin that if she watched the Family Video counter for him while he scattered off to help the kids for a couple days, that he’d do whatever she conjured up as payback for him.

In her case, it was Steve covering her shifts at the Guess Your Height and Weight booth for the entirety of the county fair. It was a bullshit deal really. It wasn’t like two shifts at Family Video even came close to an entire weekend at the fair, but Steve had no choice. A deal was a deal, and he wasn’t one to break his promise.

“How much you think I weigh, Harrington?”

Steve’s arms were crossed, his facial expression disinterested and borderline appalled. In front of him stood some girl he’d seen at a couple of Tommy’s parties, but her name was a mystery to him. Her blonde hair cascaded down her exposed back, her clothing leaving little to nothing to the imagination.

Steve mumbled out a random number monotone. He couldn’t care to actually guess, and quite frankly, he didn’t give a shit either way.

The girl gasped and crossed her arms. Her boyfriend stood behind her, his eyebrows furrowing. He stepped forward, wallowing his tongue around in his mouth for a second before spitting at Steve’s shoes.

“What the fuck, man?” Steve grunted, stepping back from the pissed off boyfriend billowing in front of him.

“Let’s go, baby.” He snapped, grabbing the girl’s hand and escorting her away from the booth.

“Hey! That’s two dollars!” Steve called after them. The boyfriend turned his head and flashed him a middle finger in response.

Steve sighed heavily and looked down at the wad of spit running across his shoe. His eyes flickered up and found you sat in a lawn chair, your leg propped up over the arm of the chair, swinging haphazardly. You looked up at him over the top of your book, smacking gum between your cherry lips, a taunting grin pulling at them.

“Smooth, Harrington.” You said, looking back down at your book and flipping a page.

Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed the towel off of the table tucked back in the tent and began wiping at his shoe. His eyes flicked up to you inside your booth. You were surrounded by a multitude of makeup products that he had no idea what they were. In his eyes it was all fucking junk.

“How many tubes of lip balm have you sold, baby cakes?” Steve called out to you. Your head didn’t move, just your eyes as you looked back up to him.

“None of your business.” You said, your voice bored and unamused.

“No one’s going to buy that shit.” He continued, grunting as he lowered his foot from the table.

You stared back at him, deciding whether or not you wanted to get up and strangle him or set fire to his booth with a flame torch. You were under the impression that Robin would be across from you all weekend, but much to your disappointment, it was Man Whoreington instead. You’d always fucking despised him ever since you moved to Hawkins two years ago.

A group of middle school aged girls hurried into your booth, squealing in excitement at all the products for sale.

“I’ll take one of each.” One of the girls said, smacking a one hundred dollar bill down on the table in front of you. You gazed up at her, then over to Steve, whose eyes were as big as saucers.

“Sure thing, baby cakes.” You bit back a smile.

It was absolutely ridiculous. Steve watched in awe as girls crowded your booth, the cash flowing.

“What was that you were saying, Harrington?” You cocked a smile as you packaged up the girl’s products. Steve ran his tongue across the front of his teeth and shook his head.

You blew a bubble with your gum as you waved the girls along, then sat back in your lawn chair, propping your legs up on a box. Steve had always been a douche to you, and you weren’t sure why. You’d always been nothing but nice to him, and you were especially nice to Nancy and Jonathan, as well as those boys you always saw Steve babysitting.

Your eyes were locked on your book as a figure loomed over the table in front of you. A throat cleared, and you lifted your eyes. Steve leaned down on the table, a strand of his brown hair falling over his forehead. Your gaze traced up from the moles on his neck to his hazel eyes.

“Can I help you?” You mumbled, looking back down at your book.

Steve's eyes trailed from your smug face, to your chest, then down to your bare thighs where your denim shorts had ridden up.

You didn’t move, just smacked your gum— sharp, loud, and completely on purpose.

“Jesus christ.” He muttered, straightening his back. “Can you not chew like a fucking cow for five minutes?”

You blinked up at him, your gaze innocent. “Something bothering you, Harrington?”

“Yes. That sound. It’s like—“ He mimicked the gum smacking sound with his teeth and tongue, his mouth opening in an exaggerated, and quite obnoxious, chomp. “That. It’s giving me a fucking migraine.”

You tilted your head and ran your teeth along your bottom lip, stretching your arms up over your head, exposing a bit of your belly. “Free will.”

“What?” Steve spat.

You sat up slightly and leaned your arms on the table. “It’s called free will, Stevie. You can walk away whenever you want.”

Steve laughed under his breath, running a hand through his wavy hair. “Believe me, I want to. But just our luck I’m stuck across your glitter and bumble gum empire this entire weekend. Gotta make sure you don’t choke everyone out with your raging estrogen.”

You smiled devilishly and grabbed a lock of your hair, twirling it around your finger. “Aww, Stevie. You watching me, then?”

“Would be hard to miss ya, all the chewing and—“ he motioned to your body, “everything.”

You popped another bubble, this one even louder and wetter than the last. You let it snap, then slurped the gum back into your mouth with a wink.

“Fascinating.” You spoke monotone.

Steve’s hands dropped to his hips, clearly running out of patience. “Spit it out.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“The gum. Spit it out. Before I do it for you.”

Your pulse quickened at his words. Not because you were intimidated, more just… heated. Not heated in a pissed off way, but in the kind that made your cheeks hot and in the way you wouldn’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging.

You rolled the gum to the side of your mouth. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He leaned forward again, both palms braced on the table of your booth, his face inches from yours now.

“Depends.” He said softer. “You always this bratty or do I just bring it out of you?”

Your smirk didn’t fade, but you didn’t answer him. Maybe he was right, but you’d never admit that to him. And perhaps you wanted to see how far you could push this.

Just your luck, you watched a group of guys walk up to the Height and Weight booth across the way. You dramatically sighed and shook your head.

“Maybe if you can guess their weights correctly I’ll tell you.” You gestured towards the guys and leaned back in your chair, this time kicking your feet up on the table.

Steve turned his head and noticed the group, and you swear you could see the steam beginning to roll out of his ears. He clocked them immediately. They were the jocks that took over after he graduated. The kind you used to flirt with in school.

One of them waved from across the way, and you waved back, extra slow and sweet. Making sure Steve was watching, you blew them a kiss. You heard him mutter something under his breath. Then you watched his jaw tense so tight you thought all his teeth would break.

“Aww, don’t pout. You’ll get wrinkles.” You teased, drumming your fingernails against the back of your book.

“You’re not cute.” He snapped, not even looking at you.

“You sure about that?”

His head whipped towards you. He leaned back over the table, this time so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Keep pushing, sweetheart. And you’ll find out exactly how uncute I think you are.”

You popped your gum again just to spite him. Then slow and daring, you plucked the gum from your lips, holding the sticky pink blob between your fingers.

“Here, since it bothers you so much.” You said, extending it towards him.

He managed to get even closer, and grabbed your wrist. “Next time I tell you to spit it out, I won’t be so polite.”

You blinked, your pulse rising up your throat. Then, he let you go, turned, and stalked back to his booth.

You sat there, hand still half-raised, gum dangling from your fingers. Suddenly you weren’t feeling so smug.

The fair shut down for the night around eleven, the loudspeaker croaking its final calls. The lights began to dim across the fairgrounds, and the soft hum of generators filled the background with white noise.

You were back at your camper, freshly showered, bare-legged and barefoot, your cami clinging to you in the summer heat. You’d tossed your book aside half an hour ago. You couldn’t focus, not with this heat. Not with the constant vision replaying of your mind of Steve leaned towards you, his voice, his grip.

Then the music started.

Steve’s camper was close, too close. The walls were paper thin, and when he cranked the volume on some Billy Idol song, it vibrated the walls. You clenched your jaw.

You gave it five more minutes.

Then you slammed the door behind you and stormed the ten feet to his. You didn’t knock. You banged. Hard.

The music didn’t stop, but the door swung open a moment later. Steve stood there in shorts, shirtless, and his hair damp like he just showered. A towel was hung around his neck, and a smug grin toyed at his mouth like he had been expecting you any moment.

“What?” He cooed, like he had no idea what could’ve possibly inspired you to knock at his camper at almost midnight.

“Turn it down.”

“No.”

“Seriously?” You crossed your arms in disbelief.

“Seriously.” He leaned a shoulder against the frame of the door, deliberately relaxed. “Unless you came over to apologize for being a brat all night.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You were the one being a brat. You grabbed my arm.”

“Because you don’t listen.”

You scoffed. “You don’t scare me, Harrington.”

“Didn’t say I was trying to.”

But the way he said it, quiet and low, made your heart hammer against your chest. He watched your face shift, and something unreadable passed over his expression.

“You still chewing that gum?” He asked.

You blinked and wallowed your gum to the side of your mouth. “Maybe.”

“I’m serious. I’ll take that shit out of your mouth myself this time.”

Your breath caught.

A tense beat of silence passed between you, you standing there gawking at him in the low glow of the camper light. You hated how good he looked like this, casual, smug, and shirtless.

“You done staring?” He taunted.

“In your dreams, Harrington.”

You turned on your heel and walked back to your camper, trying not to let your knees buckle. His music continued in the background.

That didn’t stop you from laying in your bunk for the next hour, wide awake. The music finally stopped an hour ago, but you were still unable to sleep. You chewed haphazardly on your gum, blowing bubbles every few minutes.

You were half asleep when the knock came. It wasn’t loud or aggressive, just three measured raps against the door. You sat up slowly. The clock read 12:59 a.m. You padded barefoot to the door and cracked it open.

Steve stood there, this time with a t-shirt pulled over his head. He looked tired and less smug than earlier.

You blinked up at him. “You lost or something?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

You raised a brow. “So you thought bothering me might help?”

“Yeah, actually.” He leaned an arm against the door frame. “Look.. you piss me off.”

“You piss me off too. Why does this concern me at one o’clock in the morning?”

Silence. It was strange, seeing him like this. Quiet, no booth, no crowd, no one to impress. Just Steve.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

You hesitated for a second, and against your better judgement, you stepped aside.

The camper was cramped. One bench, one tiny sink, and a bed pressed against the far wall.

Steve moved slowly, ducking his head as he stepped inside. He didn’t say anything for a moment and looked around, then sat on the bench like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

You leaned against the sink, arms crossed. “So now what?”

Steve looked up at you, eyes shadowed and unreadable. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“Which part? The part where you threatened me, or the part where you said I’m not cute?”

His jaw ticked.

“The part where I said you don’t listen. And the part where I said I’d take the gum out of your mouth myself.”

Your breath hitched.

He stood slowly.

“You’ve been acting like you want me to lose it.”

You stayed where you were, your pulse rapidly increasing. “And what if I do?”

His mouth twitched.

Then he crossed the room in two big strides and backed you against the sink. One hand planted beside your hip, the other grazing the strap of your cami.

“Then I guess it’s not a fair fight, is it?” He murmured.

Then he kissed you. Hard.

Your teeth clacked, and you tasted like bubblegum and he tasted like cherry cola. His fingers curled under your jaw as your hands bunched at the bottom of his shirt. He pressed you back until the countertop dug into your lower back, and you made a noise in the back of your throat that made him groan into your mouth.

He pulled back just long enough to whisper, his breath hot against your lips:

“Told you I’d shut you up.”

And then he kissed you again, like he was mad at you. For every eye roll, every gum smack, every moment you’d made his life hell. And god, you kissed him right back, like you’d been waiting all fucking day for this.

Steve’s hands were everywhere at once. He squeezed your waist, your hips, the backs of your thighs. He lifted you onto the edge of the counter like you weighed nothing, his mouth never leaving yours. You parted your knees around his hips, the camper creaking beneath the sudden shift in weight.

“This what you wanted?” He muttered against your lips. “Me losing my shit?”

You grinned against his lips as you panted. “Took you long enough.”

Steve chuckled once, his voice low and gravelly. He grabbed your jaw and tilted your face so he could take you in with his eyes.

“I want to take that fucking gum out of your mouth.” He said.

You wallowed the gum from the side of your mouth and went to reach for it, but he caught your wrist in his hand.

“No, I’ll take it out.”

Then he was kissing you again, this time tougher. His tongue swiped the gum from your lips, taking it for himself, then pulled away just enough to spit the gum into the sink beside you.

You gawked at him, your cheeks flushed and your lips swollen.

Steve grinned. “There. Better.”

You reached for him this time, yanking him by the front of his shirt to wrap your legs back around his waist. He groaned when he felt how hot you were against him. You rocked against him, slow and taunting.

“Still think I’m not cute?” You whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe.

He let out a strangled laugh and slid his hands under your cami and over your bare skin. “No. I think you’re a fucking problem.”

“Well, you gonna solve it then?”

He didn’t answer, at least not with words.

Steve grabbed the hem of your cami and pulled it up over your head, and tossed it over his shoulder. His mouth went straight to your chest, his tongue flicking across your nipple. One hand reached behind your back to arch your closer.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him whimper.

“So fucking full of attitude.” He muttered against your skin.

You leaned back, watching through heavy eyelids as he dropped to his knees in front of you, his fingers trailing down your thighs, thumbs brushing against the waistband of your shorts.

“What are you going to do about it, Harrington?”

“Going to teach you a lesson.” He said.

He hooked his fingers in your shorts and dragged them down agonizingly slow. His smirk grew bigger as he watched your breath hitch.

“You gonna tell me how much you hate me?”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. The look you gave him, your eyelids heavy, lips parted, and your body leaning into his every touch told him everything he needed to know.

Steve’s hands were rough on your thighs, his thumbs digging in as he pulled you close to the edge of the counter. He traced hot, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thighs, his teeth dragging just enough to make your grip claw into the edge of the counter.

“Still seem a little bratty.” He said, then landed his mouth on your mound from the outside of your panties.

You sucked in air as his fingers looped into the waistband of your panties and dragged them down your legs, dropping them to the floor. Your brows furrowed in awe as you watched him take in the sight of your bare pussy.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, and reached a finger up to your folds, and ran a finger along the length of you, your arousal coating it.

You whined, titling your head over onto your shoulder as you watched his facial expression grow more concentrated. You sucked in a sharp breath and Steve’s mouth came down on you, his tongue licking an agonizing stripe up your heat, gathering your wetness. Suddenly his finger found your opening, prodding at it for a moment before pressing into you. You let out a gasp and jolted, your head tilting back at the intrusion.

He hummed against your folds, his tongue finding its way to your clit, flicking fast against it as his finger began to pump in a consistent rhythm in and out of you. You sighed deeply, a soft moan leaving your lips as his finger curled perfectly inside of you, teasing as your spongy g-spot. Steve added another finger, spreading you open wider. You whined out, your hand coming down to latch onto his hair. His mouth worked harder against your clit, the pleasure winding tight in your lower abdomen.

He pumped his fingers faster, curling them in perfect rhythm. You whined when he pulled his mouth away, but only missed the sensation briefly as his free thumb came down to circle your clit.

“Fuck.” You sputtered out, your pussy clenching at the added pressure.

“I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” Steve murmured, staring up at you through hooded eyes.

You panted heavily, the knot in your lower belly winding tighter at his words. He was relentless, his thumb still working magic circles and his fingers pounding into you with great speed.

Your orgasm hit you unexpectedly, your breath leaving your throat, your cheeks flushing hotter and your toes curled behind Steve’s back.

“That’s it.” He urged, fingering you through your orgasm, your come coating his knuckles.

You rode out your high, your eyes clenching shut in pleasure. You breathed out through your nose as you felt Steve’s touch leave you. He stood up between your legs his hand snaking up your belly to your nipple, giving it a gentle pinch.

“Still smug.” He murmured against the skin of your tit. “Even with my mouth between your legs.”

You didn’t laugh, still trying to catch your breath and regain your vision.

And then he stopped talking. You heard the rustle of fabric against skin, and you realized Steve was taking off his t-shirt. Then his fingers looped into the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down his thighs, exposing his erect cock. He wasn’t wearing boxers, just his short shorts. You stared down at him in awe, his tip leaking and angry. His hand fell to his length, pumping it in slow strokes, his gaze falling from your tits to your pussy, which was practically dripping, your arousal threatening to drop onto the floor.

“Cat got your tongue, baby cakes?” Steve grunted, his fingers sliding up your heat and landing on your sensitive clit, giving it a pinch.

You gasped, your thighs clenching together.

“Nuh uh.” Steve growled, his hands coming down to spread your legs back open. “These.. stay open.”

“Steve, fuck.” You said breathlessly, looking down at his erection. He was bigger than you expected, much to your surprise.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’re going to forget how to talk. Forget how to chew that stupid fucking gum.” Steve grumbled.

You watched through tired eyes as Steve ran his length against the inside of your thigh, teasing your core. A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched your eyebrows furrow.

“What do you need?” He said, his voice low. His tip was ghosting over your folds now, your arousal mixing with his precum.

“Mmm, fuck.” You tilted your head back as he nicked your clit that was still too sensitive from your orgasm.

Suddenly Steve’s hand slapped your ass hard, your body jolting from the sudden hit.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, your legs tightening around Steve’s hips unwillingly.

“I said.” He leaned closer, his breath fanning over your lips. “What do you need?”

“Need you to fuck me.” You whispered, trying to close the gap between your mouths to kiss him, but he pulled away an inch to tease you.

“Hmm, couldn’t quite hear that. Might need to say it a bit louder.” Steve taunted you. Goosebumps littered your skin as his hand that was haphazardly stroking his cock trailed down to your clit, your legs jolting as he began to slowly rub in gentle circles.

“I-I need you.. to f-fuck me.” You struggled, your thighs clenching around his hand, but his assault didn’t stop.

He rubbed faster circles, this time he closed the gap between your mouths, and kissed you intensely. His teeth took your bottom lip, and he bit down slightly, not enough to draw blood, but enough to assert his power over you, even in a kiss. Then his tongue was against yours, tasting every bit of your mouth, running along your teeth. It was disgusting really, having him consume in such a thorough way, but you didn’t care. You needed more.

His tip prodded at your entrance, your pussy now throbbing from the lack of intrusion. His finger slowed on your clit, and you awaited the feeling of him stretching you. His free hand reached up to one of your nipples, giving it a gentle squeeze before slowly rolling his hips towards yours, his tip breaching your opening, the stretch radiating deep in your belly. Your head fell back in a moan, and Steve took this as an opportunity to litter kisses from your throat down to your chest, taking your nipple in his mouth.

He rocked his hips into yours, his length pumping in and out of you, your walls stretching to accommodate his length. You hadn’t had sex in months, and even then, your partner hadn’t been this big. This was uncharted territory and you feared after tonight, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to find someone who’d compare to this.

“Feels so good.” Steve grunted as he thrusted into you, his hands traveling all over you.

His hands squeezed at your breasts, then trailed down to your ass to squeeze the flesh of your cheeks, spreading them a bit, before finding their way to your thighs. You panted heavily over the sound of skin slapping, and basked in the feeling of Steve’s breath fanning over the sensitive pebbles of your nipples.

Suddenly Steve was pulling out of you, and you whimpered from the emptiness between your legs. He stepped back, and began lazily stroking his length again. He tilted his head toward the bed.

“Go get on the bed. On your hands and knees.” He demanded. Sweat was beading on his forehead, and your eyes trailed from his face, down the hair on his chest to his trimmed pubes, then to his hand wrapped around his cock.

You obeyed his orders and ambled over to the bed. You did as you were told and got on your hands and knees, your ass perched up in the air, your holes on display for him. Steve groaned at the sight of your drenched pussy catching the dim glow of the lamp as he got closer to you.

You exhaled shakily as Steve’s hands found their way to your ass, spreading the flesh to get a better look at you. Your brows furrowed when you felt his hot breath on your folds, and sharply inhaled when his tongue lapped up your arousal, brushing your clit.

Without warning, Steve was pushing back into you, not taking it slow at all. He fully sheathed himself in you, his girth stretching you once again. You gasped and grabbed a fistful on the sheet, your tits bouncing from his rapid thrusts.

“Jesus—“ You said between thrusts. “Christ.”

“Been wanting to fuck you like this all day.” Steve breathed out, leaning down so his chest was pressed to your back.

His hand snaked around your shoulders to lightly cup the front of your throat. He gave the sides of your throat a gentle squeeze, resulting in your pussy clenching down around him.

“Oh, you liked that, huh?” He said, his hand repeating its movement.

You whined, your back arching into his front. You were like a bitch in heat, and the sounds of wet skin slapping permeated the air. Never in a million years did you expect to be bent over by Steve Harrington, let alone loving it this much.

“I’m g-gonna come again.” You stammered, you lowered the side of your face into the mattress, Steve’s hands spreading your ass again to watch his length disappear and reappear from your entrance.

“Come on, baby. Let me feel it.” Steve said, a hand trailing down to your clit, rubbing gentle circles.

You whined out at the added pressure, your lower belly tying knot after knot. You flexed your calves, feeling the pleasure beginning to heat up deep inside you. Your next orgasm washed over you, your vision becoming fuzzy as every muscle in your body clenched. Your breath caught in your throat, and your grip tightened even more on the sheets.

“That’s it.” Steve muttered, his finger working your clit through your orgasm.

Your orgasm subsided, and your chest heaved in heavy pants as you came down from your high. Your senses were back, and Steve’s finger on your clit was about to make you scream.

Your hand swatted his hand away from between your thighs, and you groaned as his other hand gripped the flesh of your hip tighter.

Steve pulled out of you again, holding himself off from his release. He wanted this moment to last forever, and he wasn’t done with you quite yet.

“Lay on your back for me.” Steve said, his tone less demanding and softer.

You rolled over, and scooted yourself towards the head of the small bed, resting your head against your pillow. Steve climbed onto the bed and onto his knees, positioning himself between your legs.

“You on the pill?” Steve asked as he lowered himself over you.

“Yes.” You said, your arms reached up to cup his face, pulling his face down into a firm kiss.

Steve took the moment to sheath himself back inside you, your mouth parting. You would never get used to the feeling of him inside of you, and you’re not sure you ever want that feeling to stop. Steve fucked into you steadily, his skin slapping against yours.

His mouth left yours and trailed back down to your chest, his mouth working on one nipple while his free hand squeezed your other tit. Your head felt back against the mattress, your eyes rolling back at the new angle.

With every thrust you could feel his cock rutting up almost to your cervix, your g-spot being stimulating perfectly.

“God, you’re driving me fucking crazy.” Steve panted as he fucked into you faster. He was close, and he was shamelessly chasing his high.

“I hate how good this feels.” You said, your voice sounding almost drunk. You were half present mentally, your orgasms taking most of your energy.

“Yeah?” He bent down and rested his forehead against yours. “Want me to stop?”

“No.” You spat out quickly.

“Didn’t think so.” He said, and his mouth was on you again, this time sucking on the flesh of your neck like a vampire, his teeth working against your skin.

He wanted to mark you. He wanted those jocks to know you were already claimed and were off limits. He wanted you for himself.

“Not going to last much longer.” Steve sputtered, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more staggered.

Your nipples hardened as you felt the coil tightening again in your core, your third orgasm drawing closer. One of your hands trailed between you, finding your clit. Steve leaned up a bit to give you more room, one hand gripping your waist and the other squeezing the flesh of your ass. He took in the sight of you underneath him, your cheeks flushed, your tits bouncing with every rock of his hips, your fingers working in messy circles around your clit as you chased your high once again.

“That’s it, come for me again.” Steve panted.

He was dangerously close. He was feeling his lower belly beginning to tighten. Any second his muscles were going to betray him and let his high overcome him.

Your third orgasm hit you hard, and you involuntarily whimpered, your body shaking as it overcame you. Your toes curled and your back arched, and your hearing went fuzzy. Steve followed suit, his release shooting hot spurts deep into you, his lower abdomen clenching through his orgasm. He whined, feeling your walls clamp down on him, milking every last ounce of his seed into you.

Your high slowly faded, and you were still trying to catch your breath. Your skin was flushed and damp and Steve laid on top of you, his legs intertwined with yours, his cock softening inside of you. Steve’s chest rose and fell against yours, one of his arms draped lazily by your head, his fingertips toying with the ends of your hair.

Neither of you said anything for a long while.

Outside, the fair grounds were silent. No rides creaking, not fair-goers in sight, no sound of Steve’s music blaring. Just the two of you trying to catch your breath.

You finally shifted, just enough to look down at him, his face pressed to your chest. His eyes were open, looking off into the camper, like something was on his mind.

“You okay?” You asked, voice low.

He blinked, then shifted to look up at you. His hand moved to your face, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Yeah. Just wasn’t.. expecting that.”

A tired smile tugged at your lips. “Which part? Where you spit out my gum for me or the part where you fucked me and liked it?”

Steve huffed a laugh and shook his head. “You’re exhausting.” He muttered, but his voice was soft and fond in a way that made your chest ache a little.

“Seriously though. If you regret it and never want to speak to me again, I get it.” You tucked an arm under your head and watched his face.

His eyes narrowed slightly at you. “Do you?”

You hesitated, but only for a second. “No.”

He exhaled, slow. “Then I don’t either.”

Then, quietly and hesitantly, Steve shifted to pull the thin blanket up over you. It was then you realized he was still inside of you, soft, but you still felt full. His hand found yours beneath it, lacing your fingers together.

“Don’t tell Robin.” He murmured, half asleep now, using your tits as a pillow.

You smiled, eyes slipping shut. “Don’t tell her what?”

“That I like you.”

He said it like a secret.

And you held onto that like a promise, and you hoped that when the morning sun came, Steve Harrington wouldn’t regret those words.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve x reader #stranger things

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