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steddiewithachance · 6 months

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Vampire Pancakes

A response to this writing prompt. Thought it was too cute, had to write it! @dwobbitfromtheshire

🥞🫐

No one really knows what to do with Eddie right now. Everyone is jittery around him, going so far as to hold their breath when he so much as twitches. Even Dustin is squinting at him with calculating eyes; he's analyzing Eddie for threat.

Eddie will continue to courteously ignore the hand that Nancy is keeping stationed on her belt conveniently close to the little pistol everyone knows she's hiding. It doesn't matter that Eddie helped them kill Vecna, or that he saved Baby Byers' life. It doesn't matter when he has sharp teeth, dark eyes, and a thirst for blood. He can't blame 'em for being scared.

Eddie thinks about his dad. Wonders if even Al would see Eddie as a monster now.

Eddie got picked on a lot as a kid and he'd often come home from school tired and weepy. Al would look up from the couch in that black tank top he always wore. He'd set down whatever he was smoking to pat the spot next to him.

"What happened Ed? Was some little shithead mean to ya?"

Eddie would nod and slump into his father's side, eyes burning from the spicy, smokey air. When Eddie pressed his face into his dad's arm, Al would pull back and pat his head with sorrowful eyes. Al didn't really know how to comfort a kid or maybe he thought that being distant was in Eddie's best interest.

"You're too soft, Ed. Ya gotta make those kids think you can pack a punch. Chin up, eyes mean, shoulders back. Make 'em intimidated, make 'em fear ya."

So like any kid who thinks their dad's word is law, Eddie listened, or tried his best at least. But his dad never said that mean eyes, dark clothes, and loud music would get him accused of witchcraft by a bunch'a angry jocks and chased straight into hell.

Now his sheepies -his kiddos- are looking at him like they're scared, like they can't trust him and that is a fucking gut punch. Because pretty early on in his high school career, he decided that his purpose was gonna be standing as a shield for other kids like him. He wanted to be a source of safety and warmth in an otherwise cold and unforgiving storm.

Being feared is lonely and sad, Eddie has discovered, and he worries this is his new permanent reality.

Eddie quietly sits through his friends hammering out the logistics of a nighttime schedule to organize sleeping shifts so someone always has an eye on him. It's sick. Eddie has to excuse himself to cry about it. He has no uncontrollable urges to eat anyone here, Steve does smell appetizing, but he wouldn't jump the guy.

He can still eat human food apprently, it barely does anything for him, but it's something. Eddie thinks it's enough to quell any feral urges he may or may not get. He thinks the party is being unreasonable about their safety precautions, but really, he'd probably do the same if there was a monster in the same house as him.

🥞🫐

It's a long night, he can't fall asleep but he'll pretend to so that everyone can relax a little. The changing of the guard chafes at him and makes his lip quiver. He bites his lip to prevent a wounded sound from slipping out when Robin nudges Steve awake and says it's "his turn on hell shift". Eddie jolts because he remembers he has real sharp teeth now, and biting his lip does, in fact, hurt like a bitch.

"You're not asleep, huh?" He hears whispered into the air of the big living room after Robin has settled back into sleep. It's Steve's sweet and melodic voice.

"I'm trying." He responds, brokenly.

"Wanna get some fresh air with me for a minute? I need'a smoke." Steve is already shrugging the sheets off of him and carefully stepping over his sleeping friends towards the back door. Eddie doesn't think he has a choice, but to follow. Stepping out of this stuffy room does sound like a relief though.

Eddie makes the same journey through the sea of teenagers sprawled across Steve's floor and out the sliding glass door. When he steps onto the patio, all of the crickets stop chirping around him. The night goes silent. What the fuck? Is that because of him? He loves the sound of crickets, though.

He walks over and curls up in one of the Harringtons' fancy-loungy-pool-chairs. Steve stays standing, leaning artfully against the side of his house next to the glass. He flicks open his lighter and the small flame illuminates his square jawline with a warm glow. He's so achingly handsome. He's like a movie star, or a model.

"You okay?" Steve asks conversationally.

"Not even a little."

Steve sighs and pushes off the wall to walk towards Eddie's chair. He sits at the foot of it and swivels so he's looking at Eddie.

"I'm really sorry Eddie. I can't even imagine how you must be feeling. I won't pretend to." Steve sets a hand on Eddie's ankle and Eddie could cry from the small gesture of comfort that he's practically writhing for. "I feel like what happened to you is all my fault. I know that 'sorry' wont cut it, but for the record, I am. Completely and utterly sorry." That's a silly thing to think.

"It's not your fault, are you kidding? How do you reckon it's your fault?"

"Sending you with Dustin? Alone? Putting all that responsibility on you?" Steve looks down at his cigarette with disgust. He twists it into the cold concrete next to his socked foot and looks back at Eddie. There's no fear in his expression, and for once Eddie is grateful for his reckless bravery.

"It was the best plan and we all agreed to it. Don't sweat it, Harrington." Eddie feels like he's not all there. Feels like maybe if he was more composed he could comfort Steve better, but he's hungry and dazed, sad and tired. Steve nods solemnly, and clears this throat.

"And about everyone being kind of on edge... It'll pass. I think they're all thinking about when Billy Hargrove got possessed by the mind flayer and went homicidal on us. He tried to kill all the kids."

Eddie desperately wants to hear all the other Upside down stories one day. He keeps trying to stitch together all these scraps of lore that keep getting dropped on him. He has no right to ask about something so traumatic, so he'll just be patient and wait for more lore to drop.

"Everyone's just being cautious. Vecna's dead though, so I'm not really sure who they think would possess you." Steve finishes and squeezes Eddie's lower calf where his hand rests.

"I get it. Kinda hurts my feelings, but I get it." Eddie mumbles and feels his eyes getting heavy. He wonders if he could fall asleep out here. Maybe if the crickets were still chirping and it wasn't so goddamn quiet.

"I'm sorry, Eddie." It's fine, this might not even be the worst thing that's ever happened to him.

🥞🫐

In the morning Eddie curls himself into Steve's little kitchen nook. Eddie kind of loves the window seat, it's something his mom would have wanted, Eddie theorizes. She was always looking out windows, probably daydreaming about escaping. Eddie does it too.

The kids seem warmer this morning. There's no more hushed whispers or pointed looks. They're talking and moving around the house less cautiously. Hopefully, the stiffest interactions and the worst of their distrust is behind them. Nancy's still watching him like a hawk though.

Steve shuffles into view, his socks are bunched up around his ankles. It's cute.

He holds out a plate for Eddie with a dumb smile on his face. When Eddie reaches for it, he sees a stack of pancakes and the top pancake has a little face made out of blueberries and two whipped cream fangs. It's a vampire pancake. Steve made Eddie a sweet little vampire pancake.

"Oh my god, you're so adorable." Eddie squeaks and makes a grabby hand for the fork Steve's holding. Steve blushes and hands over the fork.

"Do you like it?" Steve asks coyly. The pancakes feel like a hug, they feel like an apology that Steve doesn't even owe.

"I love it, chef." Eddie pokes at the pancake-vampire's cheek. "I don't know if I can eat him. He's too cute." Eddie giggles. Steve looks up at him with bright sparkly eyes. God he's perfect. Eddie's hungry for him in five different ways.

Robin and Dustin come up beside Steve to look down at the plate.

"I want one!" Dustin announces loudly. Steve turns around and heads back to the stove, he looks so proud of himself.

"You can have normal pancakes. Those are special for Eddie." Steve says with a wink. Dustin looks down at Eddie and pouts at him as if Eddie has any say in who gets what kind of pancake.

"Dustin had to watch it all happen, he should get one too." Eddie tells Steve earnestly while Steve is pouring more batter into the pan.

Dustin gloats and yells "Exactly! Thank you, Eddie."

And it feels like things are gonna be okay.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie fluff #soft steve harrington #steve harrington is a sweetheart #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie x steve #writing prompt #steddie microfic

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months

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A Very Merry Unbirthday

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: minor angst, fluff at the end

Request by anon: I was wondering if you could do a angst fic where Spencer forgets readers birthday maybe he’s too distracted by JJ (or anyone else) then Derek is the one who reminds him, maybe Derek brings reader flowers and Spencer got jealous and confronted Derek and that’s when Derek tells him that it’s her birthday

Summary: Your birthday is here and the one person you expected something from doesn't even remember it's here.

Square Filled: penelope garcia for @anyfandomgoesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Today is a very exciting day because today is your birthday! To celebrate the big day, you’re wearing your favorite jeans that hug your ass nicely, shoes that make you look taller without it being a high heel, a nice blouse that stays in work regulations, your hair is half-pinned to the top, light makeup on your face, and a smile to tie it all together.

It sucks you won’t get to spend it with your family but you have another family waiting for you at the office. Being surrounded by the people you care about, especially your boyfriend, is something you’d never turn down. Spencer has always been known to do cute and romantic things for you so you’re so excited to see what he has planned for your birthday.

The first person you see when you walk into work is Spencer. He is at his desk on the phone and based on his face, it’s not a pleasant phone call. You’re not going to bother him when he’s working so you’ll greet him when he gets off the phone. You walk to your desk and set your things down when JJ and Emily approach you from behind.

“Happy birthday,” Em grins.

“Thank you!”

“Anything special planned?”

“You mean besides the not-so-surprise party Pen is throwing?” JJ and Emily have shocked looks on their faces. “Come on, I know even if no one told me. Don’t worry, I’ll be prepared to be surprised.”

“She does make it obvious sometimes,” Emily chuckles.

“Other than that, no. Spencer might have something planned but that I do not know about.” Spencer gets off the phone with a sigh and you depart from your friends. You walk over to him with a smile even if he doesn’t return it. “Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry, I can’t talk right now.”

He grabs a bunch of files off his desk and leaves his desk and you behind.

“Okay, I’ll catch you later,” you call after him.

Maybe he’s having a busy morning. You’ll meet up with him later once he’s had enough time to get done what he needs to. Hotch and Rossi walk into the bullpen after visiting someone on the first floor, and you smile at them.

“Hi, Hotch. Rossi.”

“Hey, happy birthday, kiddo,” Rossi smiles.

“Yeah, happy birthday.”

“Thank you. Another year older. It seems like the older I get, the faster time goes.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Rossi jokes.

They both have gifts for you but they will give them to you at Penelope’s surprise party. She is a dead giveaway when she is doing something for other people. Once she starts planning, she has a hard time keeping it inside. It’s endearing.

After lunch, you find Spencer in the break room. He has been working his ass off all day and is in desperate need of something to eat.

“Hey, Spencer. How was your morning?”

“Rough. Hotch has me running around doing everything under the sun.”

You wait for him to say something but when he doesn’t after five seconds, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Monday?”

“Yes but no.”

“It’s not a holiday.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I don’t know. What?” The smile on your face falls when you realize that he may have forgotten about you. He forgot. “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, um, I just made you some lunch. It’s in the fridge.”

“Thank you,” he smiles and kisses your cheek.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper.

You wait for him to say anything else to you but he doesn’t. Spencer never forgets anything but he forgot this? He forgot you? Spencer’s desk phone rings and he abandons the lunch you made to answer it. Maybe you’re not important to him anymore.

You avoid him like the plague for the rest of the day. He doesn’t seem to notice since he is nose-deep in his work, but he does notice Derek walk in with some flowers in hand.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Spencer smiles.

“Yours.”

“What?” Spencer stands up and checks the card to see your name on it. “Why are you giving my girlfriend flowers?”

“You didn’t get her any?”

“No, why would I?”

“You’re in trouble, that’s all I gotta say,” Derek chuckles.

“I’m not in the mood to play games, Morgan. Why are you getting my girlfriend flowers?”

“I got them for her birthday which is today.”

“No, it’s next month.”

“No, it’s today.”

Spencer groans in realization as Derek places the flowers on your desk.

“Are you kidding me?” Now he knows why you’ve been avoiding him all day and why you were so weird during lunch. “I messed up big time. She asked me earlier what today was but I told her I didn’t know. Now I have no idea where she is. She’s been avoiding me.”

“I saw her head into Pen’s office.”

“Thank you.” Spencer rushes over to Pen’s office and knocks twice. He tries to open the door but it’s locked. “Penelope? I know Y/N is in there.”

The door unlocks and Pen only opens it slightly so he can’t barge in.

“She doesn't want to see you right now.”

“Just let me talk to her.”

“Try again later.”

“Y/N, I am so so--”

Penelope closes the door on Spencer, cutting him off. Spencer debates on knocking until you relent but he has a better idea. It’s nearing the end of the day and Hotch has granted him early leave for the day.

“I get he’s busy and gets distracted, but not one ‘happy birthday’ to me? He remembers everything but not this?”

“Honey, all men are stupid, even the smartest of them.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I gotta get back to work. I can’t hide out here forever.”

“Good luck!”

You finish the rest of the work day without seeing Spencer and you don’t see him on your way home. You unlock your front door and enter your apartment expecting to just go to bed and forget today ever happened. Instead, you see fake candles making a path straight to Spencer who is holding a single rose in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” you eventually ask and close your front door.

“I am so sorry for today. I was caught up in work and I didn’t realize what I was doing until Derek told me, but that’s not an excuse.”

“Do you even know what today is?”

“It’s your birthday.”

“You forgot.”

“No, I was distracted. Darling, I am so sorry.”

You sigh, take your jacket off, and hang it on the rack by the door.

“I’m not upset that you were busy. We all get busy. I’m more upset that you forgot. You have a mind that can’t forget but you forgot me. It made me feel like I’m not important enough to you.”

Spencer rushes over to you and pulls you into his arms, lifting your chin so you’re looking right at him.

“No, don’t ever think that. You’re the most important person in my life. You are the light in all this darkness. You are the reason I get up in the morning.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Hotch has been bombarding me with work lately. I got caught up in that today.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Is that rose for me?”

Spencer smiles and holds the rose out for you. “Yes.”

“Do we still have time for dinner?”

“Why don’t we stay in tonight and I’ll cook for you? We can plan something for after your party I know you know about.”

“Okay, deal,” you smile.

He leans down and kisses you, relieved that he didn’t mess everything up.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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tarjapearce · 9 months

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Lips anon! MY HEART 😭 Gabi is such a sweetheart ❤️ Imagine her being particularly pouty, and when Mama asks what's wrong, she's like "I want a little sibling!"

Mama thinks it's funny, but later that night, Miguel is like, "Gabi wants to be a big sister. We should get to work, cariño..."

I can just picture this like:

Gabriela wasn't a quiet child, perhaps a bit pouty when she thought too much on something, another trait inherited from Miguel. And you couldn't help stare at her as she had fixated her somewhat little glare on the fruit she was munching on.

"Are you ok, cariño?"

She just nodded and you stopped chopping some vegetables for tonight's dinner.

"Something on your mind?" You prodded softly not wanting to be overbearing or too pushy. She sighed.

"Everyone in school is talking about how fun is to be an eldest sibling, and Raquel is always all 'my little brother this, my little brother that'" She sighed, annoyed, as your cheeks flushed, knowing now where this was going.

It didn't help that Miguel just walked in, glasses on his face, a mug of coffee in hand and a relaxed expression on his face, that instantly turned into a curious one as he kissed Gabi on the forehead.

"¿Qué le pasa a mi solecito?" (What's wrong with my little sunshine?)

He then kissed you and put his mug on a nearby counter.

"Quiero" She paused and cleared her throat, her hands folded before her, as if she was trying to make a serious negotiation.

"I want a sibling."

Miguel and you froze, most of the nervous glances came from you, Miguel seemed to actually be contemplating it. You elbowed him when Gabriela's stare fell on you upon the silence stretching too long.

"Gabriela, mi amor..." you trailed. A few of the spanish endearment words you had learned from Miguel, "A sibling isn't something that just pops out of nowhere."

"How do you make them then?"

Shit.

Miguel couldn't help but genuinely look at the scene displaying before him with amusement in his eyes. He wanted to laugh, hia fangs poking enough self control.

"W-Well, you see..." your stuttering only made her little frown to turn more curious. Of course she was a smart girl, and explaining where the babies came from was something you had been mentally preparing yourself to do. She was 10.

"Do you know how a baby grow into my belly, right?"

She nodded, curiosity making her eyes round in wonder.

"Teacher explained us that it takes a long time to grow a baby"

"Indeed. Nine months actually" She gasped and frowned.

"But... that means I won't be a big sister until next year?!"

"It's a delicate process, mi amor."

She sighed and nodded, disappointed.

"But, that means the making takes a long time as well then?"

She wasn't leaving it. But if one thing you had learned is to never underestimate the understanding capacity of a kid. You weren't squeamish about talking on sexuality or Sex Ed to Gabriela, you just weren't prepared for it. But the time had come.

"It's quite simple, but it's not always successful. Babies are made when the sperm fertilizes an egg that is my uterus. Right here." You pointed at your lower belly.

"And how does that happen?"

"Something called, sexual intercourse, mi sol." Miguel spoke with a serious expression.

"And what is that?"

"When your father and I love each other, including our bodies."

"Ah..." She looked like putting two and two together and it suddenly clicked.

"Then, you better start soon."

Gabriela shrugged as you both were left speechless.

"A baby girl would it be too much to ask?"

"Let me see what I can do, alright? Go change for dinner" Miguel nodded with a smile as Gabriela hopped off the chair and left you alone. He sighed as you remained there, almost a bit too stunned of how things just happened.

"My god..."

"It was a good talk. Don't worry."

"I worry. She wants a baby sister."

"Guess we have to work hard to get her a baby sister, hm?"

Your cheeks grew impossibly red.

------

(Yeah, kiddos understand way better than people give em credit for. 👀)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara fluff #💋 anon #t writes✨#Soccer Family ⚽🕷️

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velvetsainz · 4 months

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summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] the corsican heat causes very particular problems for charles. part of the hot monaco nights series.

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), a lil hint of plot, use of explicit language, fingering, brief p in v, mention of oral (f!receiving), google-translated french (i cannot be stopped), we're pretending charles can legally drive a boat this size, em dashes, time is a social construct

a/n: you guys wanted to know what happened in corsica, so here's the start to that story. also giant mega jumbo thank you to @lecrep for help with a wonderful plot point which i will not spoil—hehe! enjoy, bbys! xx

You weren’t sure what Charles had to promise Pascale to get you two alone, but somehow he managed it.

It was the summer break of the ‘22 season, and you’d been dating a sweet six months since he’d first kissed you as the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. It had been a small enough party, about thirty or so close friends and their partners—even a few kiddos, to boot. What neither of you knew that night was that half of your shared friends had been scheming to get you two together; despite excuse after excuse about why one of you couldn’t go on a date, finally they’d been able to get the two of you in the same room.

Now, months later, you couldn’t imagine life any differently. It made you think of the future, about forever…

No, you stopped yourself when you found yourself daydreaming, forcing yourself to stay in the moment. You didn’t want to put too much pressure on it, put too many expectations on what was awaiting on the other side of that question. It made everything easier, lighter.

Charles, on the other hand, was head-over-fucking-heels for you. He’d always been a romantic, but something about you—the way you touched him, the way you looked at him, the way you kissed…he found himself easily thinking of his future with you, and he didn’t try to stop himself.

Granted, the way you looked in your sundress as you boarded the boat for a day along the Cosican coast, how could he think of anything but you? The white cotton fabric against your new tan, the short skirt skimming over the tops of your thighs in the most tantalizing way. Thoughts of the dress rucked up around your waist with his head between your legs and hands palming your perfect breasts under what remained of your dress filled his head, eyes glazing over and cock stirring in his trunks. You were trying to kill him, he concluded, and he was as good as dead.

What you had underneath didn’t help anything either. Once he’d gotten you both out to a private little cove and he’d dove into the water to escape the heat of the late morning sun, you decided that it was time to lay out for the afternoon; your master's program had kept you busy enough over the past couple months that you still felt all-too-pale even with your newly-acquired tan. (Not to mention, you swore he kept you up half the night with the way he would pull your hips flush with his own and plant soft, searing kisses on the bare skin of your shoulders and back—you needed the rest.)

Peeling the white sundress over your head and discarding it on one of the padded benches, you’re left in a baby blue string bikini that he swore got even tinier since he’d seen you prancing around inside the villa before you’d left for the marina. Face half submerged, Charles’s hazel eyes watched you like a predator watched its prey as you laid out on one of the cushions on the bow’s sun deck with a book in hand and sunglasses perched on your nose.

He grumbled to himself in broken French as his mind swam and blood rushed from his head to the appendage between his legs. He’d been practically insatiable the past few days, his hands always finding a bare strip of scorching skin where he could get ahold of you before his lips and pouty eyes could take care of the rest.

Thirty minutes passed like that, the Monégasque puttering around in the water before he finally gave in to the siren call.

Padding up the steps from the teak swim deck at the stern of the boat, you could hear as he stalked his way to you, but you kept reading regardless. That was, until you felt a pair of lips pressed to the small of your back, just above the waistband of the aforementioned bikini. It drew a hiss from your lips and a slight jolt as you felt Charles’s cool wet skin press against your legs and his hair dripped onto your mid-back. You whined his name, setting your book face down.

“Oui, chérie?,” he asked in a low voice as he continued pressing heated, open-mouthed kisses up your spine until he was at the juncture between your neck and shoulders.

“Baby you’re cold,” you tried to explain as he sucked a mark into the delicate skin of your neck, your head sagging down and away as you bared your neck for him, “and you’re wet.”

He hummed into your skin, and you could feel the smirk at his lips as the cushion dipped beside one of your hips. You turned onto your side as one of his hands wove itself into the hair just behind your ear, and his lips found yours again as they always seemed to do. But this wasn’t a tame peck, an innocent little kiss—there was heat and tongue and your head was sent spinning off into the abyss as you felt your tummy do that telltale flip while your eyelids felt ten thousand pounds too heavy.

“You are too, ma belle,” Charles teased in a low voice, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide.

Again, a pitiful sound slipped from the back of your throat as his head dipped down to find your neck once more and one of his hands slipped under one of the side ties of your bikini bottoms. “That’s beside the point,” you tried to rebut before he kissed you again, this time pulling the tie undone completely. Oh, how he enjoyed silencing an argument like that…(Meanwhile, you thought it was playing dirty, but you’d allow it—for the storyline of it all, at least…no other reason—absolutely none…)

“Je peux vous aider avec ça,” he hummed in your ear before pulling your earlobe between his teeth, the deft hand on your hip ghosting over the skin of your inner thighs and causing your breath to catch in your throat. “Permettez-moi…”

The honeyed words were like a magical salve to all that ails you, to all the remaining doubts that his kisses hadn’t cured from your mind; you hadn’t had much restraint before, but whatever iota you had remaining was sapped the moment his lust-lidded eyes met your own.

You nodded your head, and that was all the bastard needed as he smirked like the cat that had just gotten away with eating the canary. “So stubborn,” he chided playfully as he pulled one of your legs over his hip and the two of you settled into the cushions in full light of the blue skies above. Thankfully, he didn’t tease you too much as he took to sliding his calloused fingers over the damp velvet of your folds, drawing a soft whine from you like a confectioner pulling taffy in the window of one of the boutique shops you’d seen in Ajaccio.

Your eyes closed once more, head finding the crook of your partner’s neck as he drew the pad of his middle fingers in lazy circles around your pearl and the searing heat of his mouth found yours again. He swallowed every little sound you gave him when he finally sunk two thick fingers into your soaked cunt, curling them against that spongy spot deep inside you. Stars burst behind your eyes at the sensation and your hips bucked in search of more and more and more.

“Charles—,” you whimpered his name pitifully, brows knit together as you concentrated on that tight burning coil in the pit of your tummy that pulled tighter with each stroke of his digits against the velvet heat of your walls.

“Such a good girl f’me, mon ange,” he praised quietly as your hips canted in time with the movement of his fingers and soft sounds of your pleasure melted into the water that lapped at the side of the boat. You weren’t going to last long like this, not with how sensitive he’d made you from his voracious desire to have you falling apart for him every moment he had just enough privacy to do so.

“Gonna—fuck-I–,” you stammered as your thighs clamped around his hand and your body tensed around him like a rubber band pulled taut. Your eyes rolled back and strands of sweat-curled hair stuck to your forehead and nape, your mouth falling open in silent screams of pleasure. Something snapped in the depths of your core, legs quivering while warmth washed over all of you and your toes curled against the back of his calf.

“Tellement belle,” he cooed as he nursed you down from your high with slow, feather-light strokes over your swollen bud, “I’ve got you, chérie.”

Slowly, as you came back to earth from your climax, you watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled in you once more, the wet heat of his mouth meeting your own as you tasted the salt of yourself on his tongue.

Pushing him away so you could catch the breath he’d stolen from your chest, you rolled onto your back as your shoulder ached from how you’d held yourself against him. With an arm over your eyes, you could feel the smoldering embers in your belly reignite—you needed more.

“You’re evil, you know that?,” you teasingly mocked as he pulled your half-undone bottoms off your other leg. Charles wasn’t done with you yet, and you had a few ideas of your own now.

“I think I can live with that,” he shrugged smugly as he sat between your legs, trunks pulled down just enough to free his aching cock. Stroking himself one, two, three times, he smeared the precum over his length before sinking into your depths with a hiss and a slew of French curses that always managed to go straight to your pussy.

Within only a few thrusts, though, he was stalling and readjusting.

“What’s wro—oh!,” you yelped in surprise as he lifted you then, first onto his knees and then onto his feet before taking you to the side of the boat and perching you onto the railing. You could hear the warning bells in your mind start to ring, but you still felt like a pile of jelly from your first orgasm to the point that you weren’t in much of a place to argue. Still, Charles could see the hesitancy in your eyes, feel it in the way that you clung to him.

“Je t’ai, je t’ai,” he reassured with a strong hand on your hip and another guiding one of your arms around his neck. You nodded, trusting he had tight enough hold of you.

But oh how that trust was misplaced…

The angle from which he drove into you was almost too good to be true—if you’d have been standing, your knees would’ve buckled at the very sensation. And given the choked groans in your ear, you knew the Monégasque felt the same way, too.

You closed your eyes for just a moment and then suddenly you were plunged into a dim coldness that enveloped your entire form, a stark contrast from the simmering heat of your boyfriend’s body. Thankfully, your instincts reacted faster than your conscious mind, and you emerged at the surface after only a moment under the waves.

Just as your head broke the surface, a large splash came down just next to you before familiar hands were finding your skin—first at your ankle…then your opposite calf…then your hips and small of your back.

This dumb motherfucker lost his grip amongst the sweat and sunscreen and slick of you and sent you over the side of the boat into the crystalline waters below. It was only a seven-foot or so drop, but still, the point stood: he did not, in fact, have you.

A shocked and incredulous look took over Charles's face as he sputtered and stammered, trying to think of something—anything—to say that would make sense of this disaster of a sexcapade.

You, on the other hand, simply laughed. You were fine—shocked, no doubt, but fine nonetheless.

“You’re so fucked,” you laughed as you wrapped yourself around him once more as you knew there was no meaningful way he could drop you now—you were not making the same mistake twice.

“Je suis foutu vraiment désolé, chérie—I-I thought-I,” he stammered, still falling over himself to try and explain the whole thing before you took his flustered face in your hands and pressed your lips together to shut him up once and for all.

“I’m fine, baby—I’m okay,” you soothed, resting your forehead against his. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest pressed to your own. Slowly, he seemed to come back into his body, into his coherent thoughts as the fear and adrenaline of the whole snafu began to fade.

“However,” you started, leaning back from the man, “I will expect some heavy groveling tonight.” You smirked, a slight mischievous twinkle in your eye.

“‘Groveling’?,” he asked in confusion, “I do not kno—”

“Ne t'inquiète pas,” you teased with a knowing grin, “you’ll figure it out, baby.”

And figure it out he did as you came for the third time that night, pushing his head away from your oversensitive cunt as a chuckle rumbled through his chest and over your sweat-slicked skin. You were scrabbling away over sheets now damp with your sweat and release, whine caught in your throat as Charles tangled a hand in your hair at the nape of your neck to pull your mouth to his own in an absolutely fucking filthy kiss that had your rubbing your thighs together like a damn cricket.

“Charlie,” you whimpered as his hand pried your thighs apart once more with your chest still heaving from your last orgasm.

“I thought you wanted me to grovel, mon cœur,” he snarked as his teeth worried into that same spot between your neck and shoulder as before, tongue soothing over the blossoming mark before he ducked his head further down. You keened for him petulantly, hips bucking momentarily as his plush lips wrapped around a taut nipple.

Still, he looked up at you as he released your nipple with a wet pop, and his hazel eyes met yours in earnest. “Do you want me to stop, chérie—enough for tonight?,” he asked, knuckles gently brushing over your cheek and pushing your now-dampened hair away from your face. You could feel his cock, hot and heavy against your sensitive thighs, and you would’ve had the dignity to blush if it hadn’t been for the fact that you’d probably let him do just about anything he wanted to do to you.

“No, I just—,” you started pitifully before a sharp cry of surprise left your lips as he tugged you firmly by the ankles closer to him once more.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet, minette,” he half-groaned with that stupid fucking smirk on his lips while pressing against your quivering entrance before he bottomed out in a single press of his hips that made your eyes roll like a pair of marbles on a tile floor.

You were so incredibly fucked. Literally and figuratively.

final note: i now have a sideblog for my writing, @velvetsainz-writes! follow me there for fic recs, inspo, & all things related to my writing!

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yandere-kokeshi · 3 months

Note

This might honestly be uncomfortable. But I would like to know Dad! Ghost reaction on this topic.

How would he react if his kid came to him, explaining that they were SA.

— Yandere Dad! Ghost reacting to his kiddo confessing they were SA

Warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of SA, nothing descriptive, mentions of trauma, comfort.

A/N: To be honest with you, I really like these types of dark asks. If you’re ever in a situation of needing help, please call your local police. You’re not alone.

Icon of Ghost belongs to @/Yumithefrostypanda — NOT MINE

Dad! Ghost blinks at you, before whispering a small “What?”

His body stops, he stares at you with everything. His brown-doe eyes widening. And suddenly, his chest becomes hard to breathe — someone hurt you. His blood chills in his veins, icy shards trickling throughout his system and lodging themselves into his heart repeatedly against his boney cage.

He looks at you, swallowing thickly. “W… when?”

It’s only a matter of seconds before he brings you into a tight hug, a hand grabbing the back of your head and pushing you into him. You two stay like that, minutes or hours, your crying echoing into the house as he rubs your back. There aren’t many things he can truly sympathize with, but he can when it comes to this matter. Especially when he cares about you so much.

“Hey…” he starts, biting his lip when you don’t look at him. “Hey— look at me. It wasn’t your fault. None of it. And I promise ya’, that I’m going to make ‘em pay for what they did to you.” he grabs your cheeks, wiping your tears before kissing your head.

He’s fuming. Seething in a way you’ve never seen him before. Tempted to find the prick, and break every single bone in their miserable, worthless body. He’s going to hurt them. Hurt them so bad that they’ll be begging for death instead. His hands are shaking, hugging you so tight that you end up squeaking out words.

For the rest of the next few days, Dad! Ghost has eyes on you. Focusing on your days getting better, and seeking out therapy for you. Always being an open arm for cuddles or talks. Another thing is that he’s happy you told him; something like that, hiding it, could kill. And he’s, in a way, relieved you can get help.

From his experience, Dad! Ghost understands how hard it is. The self-blame. Continuous flashbacks and nightmares. The feeling of being a disappointment. And to that, he’s there for you. Willing to sleep with you to help with your terrors, take you out of school no matter the time, and help you in any way, shape, or form.

Without your knowledge — Dad! Ghost becomes unforgiving. Finding out things about the person who hurt you. And ensuring that they suffer. He promised nobody would hurt you. And he’s living up to that with every fiber of his being.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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suzukiblu · 8 months

Text

excerpt from an in-progress "the Core Four gets a clonebaby and it's not even Tim's fault" fic

Kon has a bruise on his face and is bleeding from the mouth and has a four year-old sitting on his hip all wrapped up in his studded leather jacket. Tim finds seeing him bleeding more concerning than the sight of the kid, because while Kon isn't necessarily the first choice to comfort the traumatized civilians, he's done it plenty of times and he'll no doubt do it plenty more.

Also, like, the whole street is on fire. What, is he gonna put the kid down?

The kid is barefoot and wearing a white bodysuit, it looks like. They have pale skin and fluffy black chin-length hair and huge hazel eyes–a hazel that's practically yellow in the light of the burning street, it's so bright–and they're small and slender, but also surprisingly muscular for their age.

And surprisingly alert, Tim can't help but notice. Their eyes are subtly darting around, hypervigilant to a fault, and they're visibly just clocking things. They've already threat-assessed him, Cassie, and Bart, and they're obviously watching out for anyone else and simultaneously keeping an eye on the guttering flames and broken ground and surrounding street in general.

The bad guys left out here are technically all down and thoroughly zip-tied into submission, but the kid assesses them all too, one by one.

Tim gets a weird itch in the back of his brain, and Kon brings the kid over to the rest of them.

Their eyes aren't hazel, Tim realizes. They actually are yellow.

A very specific, familiar yellow.

"What's with the kid?" Bart asks, narrowing his very specific, familiar eyes curiously. "Like, why are you bringing the kid, I mean, not 'why does the kid exist?' That's a different question, obviously, like really why do any of us–"

"They're ours," Kon says.

Bart stops talking.

"Um?" he says.

"What do you mean they're 'ours'?" Cassie says.

"Show 'em that thing you showed me, kiddo?" Kon asks the kid, patting their back. They nod solemnly. Then they vibrate into a blur that phases right through Kon's arms, leather jacket and all. Kon makes no effort to catch them, apparently because he knows it's unnecessary, because a second later the kid is floating up into the air over all their heads.

Tim blinks, very slowly. Tilts his head.

Kon wiggles his fingers at the kid, who noises very quietly and reaches down to grab at his hand. Kon grins up at them and holds his arms open, and the kid settles back into them . . . not warily, exactly? But very definitely uncertainly. Like it's something unfamiliar.

Not like Kon is unfamiliar. Like being held is unfamiliar.

"Okay, huh," Bart says. "Well that sure was the Speed Force."

"And that sure is a Greek demigod," Cassie says.

"Sure is," Kon says agreeably. "And I'll give you two guesses as to where the attached unenhanced human DNA came from, Boy Wonder."

"Kon, what the hell?" Tim says in bemusement. "What even . . . what, exactly?"

"Remember that weird green light earlier?" Kon asks conversationally as he pets the kid's back. "The one that just kinda flashed all up in your respective businesses while I was inside punching asshole scientists after the comms got fried?"

"Yes," Tim replies warily. "I assumed it was supposed to be some kind of distraction."

"It was a DNA scanner," Kon says.

"Ah," Tim says, and wonders how the hell he's going to explain this to Bruce.

"Apparently, these shits decided the best way to handle invading superheroes was to just copy their DNA and then make speed-gro clones who could counteract their abilities," Kon says, jerking his head back towards the TTK-ruined remains of the lab. "With, obviously, a healthy side of brainwashing and indoctrination programming uploaded directly into their developing brains. But literally everyone and their mother underestimates the range of TTK, so I kinda just broke the lab and now, welllll . . ."

"So the kid is a Greek demigod with a Speed Force connection and a Bat-brain?" Cassie asks.

"Apparently," Kon says, nuzzling the kid's ridiculously floofy black hair. "Sorry, kiddo, I'd have given you TTK if I'd gotten the option, but we made the fatal error that is splitting the party. Then again, now you won't wanna puke if you ever run into kryptonite, so could be worse? And also you not getting TTK meant I was on deck to save you from getting grown into a teenage superweapon, so that was probably worth it, right? Like, not that we wouldn't have let you join the team in that case, but clone to clone, I hear actual childhoods are kinda cool and all."

Well, Tim thinks it's safe to make some assumptions about why Kon said "they're ours" and not "they're yours".

"Huh," Cassie says, looking bemused.

". . . honestly I just can't believe this isn't Rob's fault," Bart says, darting over to peer more closely at the kid, who frowns at him.

"I'm not that bad," Tim protests reflexively. The others all give him pitying looks. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not!"

"Yes you are," Cassie says dryly, then steps in closer towards Kon and the kid too and smiles at them. "Hey there, little guy. What's your name?"

The kid stares blankly at her, then curls up tighter in Kon's jacket–and, probably not incidentally, his arms–and presses in closer against him.

"No," they say. Cassie blinks.

"'No'?" she repeats in confusion.

"Babe, they're five minutes out of the cloning tube," Kon says wryly. "They don't have a name."

". . . we should fix that," Cassie says. "Like. Immediately, let's fix that."

"Yeah, I'm on board with that," Kon agrees. "Any suggestions?"

"Are you a boy or a girl?" Tim asks the kid, because at this age it's hard to tell. He's assuming boy, since two male gene donors to one female, but who knows, really.

"I'm a clone," the kid says, looking at him like they think he's stupid.

"Gender-neutral name it is," Kon says, clearly unconcerned by that very concerning response.

"Max?" Bart offers immediately and unsurprisingly, visibly perking up. Which, well–not the worst name for a speedster anyway, Tim supposes.

"Blake," Cassie suggests. "Avery, Channing, Charlie, Aubrey, Kirby, Morgan, Sage, Shiloh–"

"You're hanging out with Cissie a lot again, huh," Bart observes.

"Like you're not?" Cassie huffs, tweaking his nose before continuing with: "Ash, Casey, Jo, Sam, Maddox . . ."

"Alex?" Tim tries, mostly because Cassie's offering a lot of unusual-sounding options and that might not be ideal.

Bart and Cassie eye him. Kon raises an eyebrow in a very Luthor-esque fashion.

Tim experiences the five stages of grief and quickly moves on.

"Uh, or Jace," he says. "Or . . . Harley?"

Wait, those are terrible too.

"No," the kid says, frowning at all of them.

"None of those sound good?" Kon asks them. The kid's frown deepens and they press closer against him, still eyeing the rest of them just a little bit sullenly.

"I don't want one of their names," they say with obvious distaste, and also much clearer annunciation than a typical four year-old would have. "I want one from you."

"Oh," Kon says, blinking a couple times. "Yeah, okay, kiddo. Um . . . you sure?"

"Yes," the kid says.

"Okay," Kon says, and tightens his grip on them a little. And then, surprisingly quickly–"Kenley Elliot. And we can hash out your last name later, that's gonna have to be a later thing. How's that sound? You want it?"

"Yes," the kid repeats, and then throws their arms around Kon's neck and squeezes. It looks a bit closer to a chokehold than a hug, but Kon a) is a half-Kryptonian clone, and b) clearly doesn't care.

"Cool," he says, and swallows a little roughly. "Okay, well, that's squared away. Let's get the fuck out of here before some asshole with a badge tries to take custody of Kenley."

Tim did not miss the "Kent" and "El" concealed in either of those names, or how quickly Kon had them to hand. Not as quick as Bart had "Max", obviously, but . . .

Very quickly, all the same.

Alright, then.

#superboy #dc robin #wonder girl #dc impulse #young justice #rinfic #long post #wip: yj accidental baby acquisition

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tokkiwrites · 7 months

Text

ㅡㅡㅡ in which you finally come home from college. it's been almost 4 years, and you're shocked to see how hot your dad's best friend has gotten ㅡ but he can say the same for you.

TW: dbf!joel miller (yeppeee), dom!joel, sub!reader, afab reader, age gap (reader is 23 n joel is in his mid 40s), rough sex, unprotected p in v (wrap that up yall), pet names (lots of em), no use of y/n (ik shocking), spit, choking, trying to have sex in secret (idk what you call that), oh yeah readers dads name is William but every1 calls him Will ok?? pls let me know if i missed anything!!!

You step off the bus, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and anticipation as you gaze at the familiar sights of your small hometown. It's been four years since you last set foot in this place, and the memories flood back. You know you'll find your dad, Joel and Sarah waiting for you, but there's also that fluttering in your stomachㅡㅡ that secret crush on him that you've never quite been able to shake. As you walk down the street, you can't help but wonder how much things have changed.

Hopefully, not much.

As you approach your childhood home, you can't help but notice how the old oak tree in the front yard has grown taller, casting a welcoming shade on the well-worn swing that still hangs from its sturdy branches. Your heart flutters as you step onto the front porch, taking in the familiar scent of your dad's famous apple pie wafting through the screen door.

You open the door to find your dad, in the cozy kitchen, wearing his favorite flannel shirt as he carefully pulls a bubbling pie from the oven. His eyes light up when he sees you, and he rushes over to engulf you in a warm, tight hug. "You're finally home, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with genuine joy.

Joel's daughter, Sarah, stands a few feet away, her eyes lighting up with a bright smile as she watches the reunion. "Welcome back!" she exclaims, stepping forward to give you a warm hug too.

And there he is, tall and way too massive. when did he get so big? ㅡㅡ you're not complaining, though. His hair has started to gray, and his beard is gruff... your eyes sparkle as you stare up at Joel, waiting for him to say something.

"welcome home, darlin'" he breaks the silence, your heart racing as Joel's deep, rich voice washes over you. he steps forward, embracing you warmly. his arms are strong, and you can't help but take a deep breath in as you inhale his musky scent that's almost intoxicating.

As he pulls back from the hug, you meet his warm, hazel eyes, the world almost stopping. You've always been drawn to him, all though you thought it was just a stupid kid crush but now, with the years of separation and growth behind you, that attraction only seemed to intensify as you get to look at him again.

you're brought out of your trance as your dad's voice echoes through the room "c'mon, kiddo. made your favorite: cinnamon apple pie!" You can't help but giggle as you see the sheer excitement in your dad.

"dad, you didn't need to."

"course i had to, you've been away for years, and i aint lettin you off that easy, girl."

You can't help but chuckle at your dad's enthusiasm, feeling a warm sense of belonging. "Well, in that case, I'm not going to argue with your logic," you reply with a playful wink. The scent of the freshly baked cinnamon apple pie fills the air, and it's a comforting reminder of the home you've missed so much during your time away.

"good thing you're home." Joel speaks up "now he can cook for you and not stuff me full of all his kitchen...experiments." his chuckle is low, making your heart thump. you nod, slicing up the pie and placing a piece each on four different plates, adorning every slice with some fresh cream.

"Oh, I think I've missed those kitchen experiments more than anything," you quip with a sly grin, sharing a secret look with your dad.

Sarah chimes in, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "We've been Will's taste testers for years, but now you're back to rescue us, right?"

You all sit around the kitchen table, enjoying the warm pie and the laughter that fills the room. It's moments like these that make you grateful for being back home, surrounded by the people you love, even if it does come with a side of unspoken desire for the one man who has always had a special place in your heart.

does that make it sound better than saying you want your dad's best friend to fuck you? maybe.

"god, can you believe it's been four years? feels like only yesterday i was givin' you piggyback rides." Joel smiles, eyes crinkled at the corners as he takes a sip of some bear. "hey, Sarah is still little, you can give her all the piggyback rides you wanna." you laugh.

"don't give him any ideas, girl." the teen furrows her brows as she takes a large bite from her pie. "actually, me 'n joel thought it would be a good idea if we had a movie night tomorrow, for old times sake. do you remember those? god, they were fun, huh?"

"dad! you're saying it as if I'm ancient... I ain't 40." Joel turns to you, raising his brows "careful, missy. don't discriminate against 40 year olds." your cheeks light up as your eyes meet his, unable to say anything. you just swallow what you've been chewing and nod away.

Joel's laughter fills the room, and he playfully nudges your shoulder. "Alright, enough teasin'. Let's focus on planning that movie night. Remember how we used to pick out our favorite films and stack up the snacks like a mountain?"

Sarah chimes in, excitement in her eyes. "Can we make cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips?" you scrunch up your nose,"gross, sarah! you still like those? thought it was just weird kid cravings, you know?"

"you didn't even try them, stop bein' a hater!" she groans, slumped in her seat. You chuckle at Sarah's determination. "Alright, alright, I'll give your cheesy popcorn with chocolate chips a shot. After all, it's all about making this movie night special."

Joel grins and pats your back. "That's the spirit, kiddo. We're up for some culinary adventures, ain't we?" your heart jumps, and you feel like a teenager againㅡㅡ god, some things never change.

As the night falls, Sarah heads to sleep in your room, and your dad leaves you and Joel to clean up what's left in the kitchen. It didn't take long, 10 minutes at most, so you decide to sit for a bit.

The living room is bathed in a gentle, dim glow from the soft, ambient lighting. You and Joel settle onto the couch, the familiar cushions cradling you both. As you chat and reminisce, the comfortable silence that has always defined your connection fills the room.

Joel reaches for the old photo album your dad always kept on the coffee table, and you watch as he flips through its pages. The photographs tell the story of your family's journey together – from vacations at the beach to the holidays you celebrated. Memories cascade from each page, and Joel's gaze lingers on a particularly cherished photo.

He turns to you, a wistful smile on his face. "Remember this trip, that cabin by the lake? Sarah was so little then, and she caught her first fish. You were so little..."

"yeah, I remember..."

"you're all grown up now. I honestly thought you'd forget about your dad and I." Joel chuckles, wrapping his bicep around you, pulling you in closer. "Don't be ridiculous. never in a million years." you reply.

then there's silence. your gaze locks on his, and you can hear your heartbeat in your headㅡㅡ his eyes never leave yours. Joel's calloused palm reaches your face, tracing small circles onto your burning cheek.

"think your dad's gonna come out soon?" he asks, licking his bottom lip as he waits for your response. while he looks at you, words get stuck in your throat, and you can't get them outㅡㅡ so you just shake your head 'no'.

"thought you'd grow out of this shyness, darlin'. i guess it's that effect I've on ya, huh?" smirking, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, causing you to shiver lightly.

Joel's presence, so close, and his touch have you captivated. The room feels charged with tangible tension. His teasing remark makes you smile, though you're still struggling to find words, the unspoken feelings hanging in the air.

"c'mon, sweetheart, answer me."

"j-joelㅡ" what does he want you to say? is he testing you? does he feel it, too? better yet, does he hear how fast your heart is beating whenever he leans closer to you.

"ya still hear the water runnin?" you nod. "good." he licks his lips before grabbing the back of your head, pulling you inches away from his lips. "can I?"

you muster the fastest 'yes', and when realization hits, your face grows red as an apple, causing joel to laugh. "eager girl." and with that, he leans in, placing his lips atop yours. the kiss is deep, a bit sloppy, but it feels like it's been heavy waiting to happen for so long. his beard scratches at your skin, drawing soft hums from you as it does so.

a few moments pass, and joel pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, one that he breaks when his rough thumb drags itself across your bottom lip. "pretty, pretty girl." you moan, you feel so pathetic. he's barely touched you, yet you feel the pool growing inside your panties by the second.

"p-please, joel.."

"please, what, darlin? gotta tell me exactly what ya want." he smiles, prepping soft pecks onto your face. "t-touch me..please." you gather the courage to speak up, watching his eyes grow darker as he hears your request.

"fuck, baby...what would your dad say if he heard you just then, huh?" chuckling low, his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, making you whimper. "don't c-care.."

"that so?" he tilts his head to the side, his thumb urging your mouth to open. "c'mon, girl, open." and you do as you're told, opening you mouth wide, tongue lolled out. he then gathers some spit in his mouth before letting the glistening droplet fall from his lips onto your tongue.

"swallow." he commands, and you obliged. "atta girl."

its so overwhelming, so dirty, and he didn't even do anything. at this moment, it feels as if only a slight nip at your skin could send you over the edge.

suddenly, you both hear steps upstairs, followed by a door closing. it's your dad. "you guys alright? think ive had too much to eatㅡ nothin' new there. imma head to bed, you guys cand manage yourselves, yeah?" and with that he closes the door to his room, leaving you and Joel staring at each other.

"tell me, you really wanna do this, darlin' ?"

"please, joel...need thisㅡㅡ need you."

Guilt clawed at your heart. Yet, you couldn't stop what you felt. it was wrong, but in this moment, it felt so right. "fuck, okay angel."

his large hands start to pull at your clothes, undressing you in an instant, leaving your naked body shivering. "i got you, babygirl." joel leans in, trailing soft kisses down the curve of your hip all the way to your mid thigh. your body jolts as you try to remain quiet.

"gonna let me ruin you, sweet girl?" and it feels like your heart could run a marathon. you nod away, eagerly. you feel so pathetic, all sprawled out naked under him, whilst he's still dressed. "words, baby."

"fuckㅡ please, joel, please..." you almost cry.

he laughs, fingers reaching your folds and swirling around them "fuck, darlin', you're so wet. all this for me, hm?" he teases "yes, f-for you...please."

"shh.." hushing you, he finally pushes inside one of his fingers, making you bite back a moan. you cover your mouth with your hands, a warm sensation flooding your bodyㅡ it feels like you could come just now.

"so tight, baby. can't wait to feel you 'round my cock." you choke back a pathetic whine. "you like it? like it when i fuck you with my fingers and talk to you like this?" you nod, pushing yourself further onto his digits. "filthy girl, s'it turn you on knowing your dad could walk in in us, huh? want him to see ya full of my cock? c'mon, answer, girl."

"yesㅡ shit, yes, please, joel, please..."

"s'okay, baby, don't worry. 'll fuck you so good you'll forget your own name. make you take this cock until you can't walk no more."

your vision was hazy from all the tears in your eyes, and your heart felt stuck in your throat. you watch the man discard himself of his clothesㅡㅡ holy. fucking. shit. all of your fantasies of Joel couldn't prepare you for what was going to happen. he stood there, tall, gruff as he stroked himself. his length was girthy, almost too thick, veiny, with a red, angry tip. he knew he was huge, that's what made it so exciting to him watching you gawk at his cock.

"c'mon, doll. it won't bite...open wide now. widee ㅡ there you go..." he preaises, sliding his length between your lips. it was hard to adjust, and honestly, your jaw was hurting from the first minutes you had him in your mouth. but the way his lips dripped with quiet moans, 'goodgirls' and 'thats rights', it made you push back the pain. it was bearableㅡ you just wanted to make him proud.

"jesus christ, girl, you look so pretty, mouth full of my cock." the man laughs, pushing his length further down your warm throat that was constricting as you gagged around him. "shitㅡ gonna make me come, sweet girl." hissing, he pulls out, leaving you gasping for air.

"joel, need you inside...please.."

"you're so gorgeous like this, baby. my gorgeous girl, begging for cock." he sighs, caressing you cheek before his hand slides down to wrap around your neck, squeezing it and making you light-headed. "gonna let me fuck you stupid, darlin'? c'mon, answer."

"y-yes, Joel, want you t'fuck me s-stupid, please..."

joel scoffs, placing a little kiss on your forehead. with his other hand he grabs his shaft and drags the tip along your fold, collecting all the juices that dripped from you. "fuckin' soaked for me, baby."

"jus' for you.."

"i know, baby. i know.."

without stalling, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"s' everything good, darlin'? want me to stop?"

"please don't...move, please, i need youㅡ please.."

"gonna give me a stroke if you keep on beggin' like that, baby..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. take it and make him proud.

"so pretty, baby. so, so pretty and tight, shitㅡ " joel moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, you could only mutter little 'joels' as he pounded into you.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Joel's length, which made him grunt and pull her hips flush to his "that's it, girl. come around my cock, let me feel ya."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under joel, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paint your stomach with white, silky strands.

you both sit there in silence for a bit before you finally decide to speak up. "movie night tomorrow will be...something."

"now you're talkin' , darlin'? c'mon, let's get ya cleaned up and pray no one heard us."

⁽⁽ଘ( ˊᵕˋ )ଓ⁾⁾‎ 토끼's NOTE : yall are eating good today. here with another fic this time our fave insane dilf JOEL !!! this has 2.78k words and probably lots of grammatical errors ITS NOT PROOFREAD OK?!?!?! hope you like it guys <3 tysm and ily!!!

#pedro pascal #kinktober #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us

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justmeinadaze · 2 months

Text

Little Girl Gone Part 4 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Officer Steve harrington/ Gangster Eddie munson & Doctor fem submissive Y/N, SMUT, degrading, some spanking, LOTS of dirty talk, handcuffs, slight overstimulation, after care of course.

ANGST, Jason causing problems before the meeting with his dad. Mentions of explosions and shooting. Eddie being sexily intimidating <3, Steve's dad makes a cameo and undermines the readers profession like a dick. Slight cliffhanger ending...I guess. Idk lol

Word Count: 5993

Last Chapter Here

“Last chance, sweetheart. Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your hold on Eddie’s arm tightens as you exhale out your nerves. This entire week had been rough not just on you but them as well. You were ready for it all to be over so you could just enjoy being with the new men in your life. If this is what you needed to do for that to be done so be it.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

As you smile up at him, he leans down to kiss your lips making you laugh as you quickly wipe away the lipstick that lingered on his mouth.

Both your demeanors hardened as the door to the venue was opened and Eddie led you inside.

***

The gangster ran into the hospital room with you trailing behind, glancing at the chart that was attached to the wall as Steve stood by Chrissy’s bed side.

“What happened?!”

“Witnesses say they don’t know. Just, suddenly, her store was fire.”, the officer relayed with a sigh. “It’s all gone, Ed.”

“It says here she should be fine…physically at least.”, you add as your sad eyes shift towards the unconsciously girl in front of them.

“We-we can rebuild her store. That won’t be an issue—”

“EMS found a note pinned to her sweater.”

Steve handed him the slightly charred piece of paper that Eddie read aloud.

“No, Kiddo, this moment…this is me at my most masochistic.

Three.”

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“It’s a quote from Kill Bill. Everything but the three. I don’t know what that means.”, you answered, trying to hide the fear and worry.

Placing his hands on his hips, Eddie begins to pace.

“I really think you two should stay in my apartment until we get this resolved.”

“You and I both know I can’t do that.”, Steve murmurs as his face scrunches in thought. “And we both know she’s not because of her patients.”

A knowing smirk flashes along your features as you shrug.

“I don’t like this. I still think—”

“I know what you think, Ed, and I’m telling you no.”, the officer cut him off. “You already went and attacked him once and look what’s happening.”

“I feel weak, Steve. Like I’m letting him get away with this bullshit.”

“You’re not weak. If anything, he’s weak for reacting this way.”, you respond as you wrap your arm around his waist and in response he kisses your forehead.

“I just… I’m still going to have some of my guys watching over you two. Y/N, Gareth will be in the clinic with you and Steve, Jeff can linger out of the way so he isn’t seen.”

#########

“Jesus, ALL of Hawkins High Society is here.”, you murmur as you two enter the garish ballroom style area where extremely well-dressed people had gathered.

Eddie had taken you shopping and bought you a beautiful (expensive) red evening dress that flowed to your ankles but had a slit up to just below your hip. He had bought you some equally expensive jewelry to match except for the bracelet around your wrist.

“I know it’s not as lavish as what Tony Montana here got you but I saw it in the store and it made me think of you.”, Steve blushed as he hooked the bracelet to you and spun it around. It was a simple silver chain but in the middle was what looked like a heartbeat reading you see on ECG machines at work. “Since you, ya know, stole the other half of my heart.”

“Wow, Steve Harrington. That was smooth.”, Eddie chuckled. “Um, here. Here’s MY other half as well.”, he grinned softly as he slides one of his rings onto your finger.

“Yeah like you said before, ‘rich people trying to make themselves feel better.’.”

Eddie insisted you both should stand out so not only would people see you together and know you’re his but it would draw the eye of Mr. Carver so he’d hopefully come talk to you two. His suit matched your outfit with a red button up but every other piece on him was a crisp black that made him seem even more handsome.

While your hair was down around your shoulders, his was up and pulled back so you could see his face a bit more. Occasionally during the car ride, you would lean over and kiss his cheek just because you could making him beam over at you as he squeezed your hand.

Leading you to the bar, he ordered you both a glass of champagne making you giggle as you watch him chug it down and ask for another.

“Nervous?”

“Uh a little but not for the reason you might think. I’ve never met Steve’s parents. I’ve heard stories and of course they don’t know about us but for some reason I still want them to kind of like me.”, he playfully winces making you laugh harder.

“That’s normal, baby. You love him so you want them to like you; to approve.”

Grinning in your direction, Eddie leans down to kiss your cheek while you were taking a sip from your glass.

“What was that for?”

“I’m just so glad we met you. I wish it was under different circumstances but—”

“One bourbon, straight, please and thank you.”, Steve sighs heavily as he leans over the counter waiting for his drink. “My parents are on their bullshit tonight.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”, you whisper with a smile as he thanks the bartender again and knocks back his drink.

“Steven, I thought you were bringing everyone back something.”, a man practically whined as he came up behind him.

“I was. Dad, this is Dr. Y/N Y/L/N and—”

“Edward Munson, sir. Nice to meet you.”, Eddie greeted as he enthusiastically extended his hand for him to shake.

As the officer turns to grab the drinks and hide his smirk, you subtly bumped him with your hip.

“Hm. I’ve heard your name around town. Very prominent young man. What do you do exactly?”

“Management you could say sir.”

“And you young lady? Are you a real doctor or just one of those professor types?”

“Um, I own my own clinic and treat patients.”

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“It’s Hawkins Virtue Clinic on the lower west side.”

“Ah on the crime riddled side of town where people can’t even afford napkins from a restaurant let alone healthcare.”

Your gaze shifts to Steve who tilts his glass towards you in a cheer gesture with a little smile as he knocks back its contents.

“I guess you could say that. That’s why I don’t charge them more than they can afford.”

“How do you make money then?”

“It’s not always about money. For me, all that matters is people can live long healthy lives.”

“Not in Hawkins, honey, but it’s a cute dream. Come on, Steve, your mother is waiting.”

“I’ll see you peasants later.”, he teases as he winks and follows his father.

“Well, that was a good test run.”, you joke as you turn to face Eddie.

“Yeah, hopefully George isn’t that cynical.”

#############

“Thank you for keeping an eye on me these past few days.”, you beam at Gareth as you both walk to your car.

“Of course. It’s actually been oddly exciting. I learned that green is never really a good color especially on or IN your skin unless its vegetables, obviously.” He grins when you laugh. “I also learned that sick kids are VERY loud and nurses deal with way too much.

“They really do. I try to give them raises as much as I can to show my appreciation but it’s hard with my lack of funds.”

“I’m sure Eddie could help if you asked.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t impose.”

Your guard paused, holding his arm out to stop you as well.

“Stay here.” Drawing his gun, he slowly walked forward towards your car, scanning the interior and around the side. Noticing a note tapped to the door handle, he carefully pulls it off and reads the contents before his wide eyes meet yours.

“Y/N RUN!”

As he starts sprinting your way, you suddenly feel heat and a strong wind that knocks you off your feet as your car explodes.

***

Eddie’s tires skid as he slams on his breaks when he arrives at your clinic. Bypassing all the fire fighters and EMS, he entered the building hunting for you.

“What happened?! Baby, are you alright?”

Silently, Steve grabbed his partner’s arm and dragged him off to the side. Digging into his pocket, he handed Eddie the note that was taped to your car.

“I'm not gonna kill you. Your job will be to tell the rest of them that death is coming for them, tonight. Two.”

“I looked it up, it’s a quote from another movie involving revenge. And I’m assuming—”

“He’s counting down.”, Eddie interrupts. “I’m going to fucking kill that son of a bitch.”

“No, hey. We have a plan, remember? Right now, she needs you.”

After coming back around the corner, Steve shoos the EMS people away as he sits beside you in your waiting area with his pencil and pad pretending to take your statement while the gangster takes a seat on your other side.

“Princess, look at me. Are you ok? Did you get hurt?”

“Uh, no. Gareth, he, um, he did though.”, you respond as your tear-filled eyes meet his. “I tried to do what I could, Eddie. H-He was badly burned. I-I-I don’t have stuff here for those kinds of burns.”

Tilting you against him, he presses your head to his chest as you sob.

“EMS said that he will most likely be ok and if you hadn’t been there he would have died. Honey, you saved him.”

“H-He saved me, Steve.”

“You’re both staying with me. No arguments.”, Eddie announced as you nodded.

“I have to go in and fill out my report—”

“Steven…”

“I know, I know. I’m probably next but there’s nothing I can do, Eddie. I have to go in and do this. Plus, I have Jeff and a station full of cops. I’ll be ok.”

############

“I’m going to go smoke a cigarette, sweetheart, ok? Don’t go far.”

You nod as you watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his pack as he disappears out on the nearby patio. Glancing at all the people around you, you suddenly feel extremely isolated completely unsure of what you should be doing.

“Don’t let them see you crumble.”, an older man chuckles as he steps closer to you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I know what it’s like to walk into this sea of rich people and feel completely out of place. When my father and I moved here, we had nothing but a few pennies in our pocket but he knew how to finagle. Networked his way to his first 100K and used that to start an empire.”

“That’s amazing. My, uh, my grandparents were the same. They said personality goes a long way in any business. My grandma opened a tutoring center on the east side and helped so many underprivileged kids go on to college. My dad thought she was ridiculous. ‘You’re barely making ends meet, ma!’”, you roll your eyes.

“Ah, one of those.”, the man smiles. “I inherited my father’s company and then gave it to my son. Did your grandmother do the same?”

“Oh, no. She got sick pretty early on in her life and I moved in with them to help take care of her. It’s what actually sparked my interest in medicine. I’m a doctor and I run my own clinic, Hawkins Virtue.”

“Oh! I’ve heard of that place. You help a lot of people who are struggling.”

“I try.”, you grin, happy to meet someone who seems to genuinely find interest.

“Do you need funding? I’d love to come by and see what you do.”

Shifting your gaze, you notice Steve watching you intensely from beside his parents.

“I would like that very much. I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.”, you introduce as you offer him your hand that he takes and kisses the back off.

“George. George Carver.”

***

Steve sighs as he heads out of the police station to go home. Placing the ear bud in his ear, he taped his phone to immediately call Eddie.

“What’s going on?? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, babe. I’m fine. I’m on my way now.”

“Ok, stay on the phone with me till you’re almost here.”

“Heh. I love when you get protective.”

Eddie listens to every footstep with anticipation as the officer heads towards his car.

“You’re my Paladin, babe, but I’m the Master. I can take care of you to.”

“You’re such a nerd.”, he chuckles, pausing at the sight of the note on his windshield.

Trying not to startle his boyfriend, he carefully removed it as he backed away from his car.

“Killing's got to be accepted. Murder was the only way that everybody stayed in line. You got out of line, you got whacked. Everybody knew the rules. One.”

Something suddenly whizzed passed him, shattering his driver’s side window.

“Fuck me.” As soon as he hit the ground, multiple rounds of gunfire went off around him. Steve could barely hear Eddie in his ear as he crawled behind a nearby vehicle and waited.

“STEVEN! ANSWER ME GODDAMN IT!”

“I’m ok! I’m ok!”

Pointing his gun towards the car, he fired a few rounds before it disappeared around the corner.

***

Eddie paced as you cleaned the cuts on Steve’s hand he had received from all the glass on concrete. The gangster was on edge since he had to wait for police to scope the scene and take the officer’s statement.

“Fucking asshole. Steve, I’m sorry but I can’t let this slide. Two of my friends are in the hospital and he almost killed you two.”

“No. He wants to kill us in front of you remember. This was just to toy with you and us.”

“I don’t like the casual way you said that.”, Steve teased as he pokes your nose with his free hand.

“Excuse me. Not a joke here!”

“You’re right, baby. Talking with his father won’t be enough. He crossed a line but we need to focus on this first to keep Y/N safe. After we handle that, then we can handle him.”

“I may have an idea that won’t upset his father IF we get that approval and will get your message across.”, you announce as they give you their attention.

############

“Mr. Carver.”

“Ah, Mr. Munson or should I saw Edward. We don’t want to confuse you with your father now do we?”, the man laughs light-heartedly as your gangster circles a protective arm around you. “Do you know Dr. Y/L/N here?”

“Oh, please, sir. You can call me Y/N.”, you beam trying to remain as calm as possible.

“Yes, sir. I met Y/N when she saved me from a nasty wound I got. I had heard of all the things she’s done for the community so, of course, I had to get to know her better.”, he grins as he pulls you closer.

“That ‘nasty wound’ wouldn’t have been inflicted by my son per chance?” Eddie stiffened a bit beside you as the man gave him a once over. “Yeah, I know you and Jason don’t get along but that doesn’t give you the right to invade his turf and kill his best friend.”

“If I may, Mr. Carver, is there a private place we can talk?”

“No, you may not. Whatever is going on between you and him doesn’t involve me. You two are in charge now. Handle it.”

As he starts to walk away, you reach out to grab the man’s bicep.

“Please, sir. So many innocent people have gotten hurt just in this week alone. Your son is throwing a tantrum over something he started and is upset because Eddie didn’t let it go like his father used to. Please, just listen to what he has to say. We don’t want anything in return or anything like that. Just…listen.”

Jason’s father sighs as he glances you over.

“You would even decline the generous donation I was thinking of giving to your clinic? That’s a lot of funds that could help a lot of people.”

“This will help more.”

At your sentence, he blinked and stood up straighter.

“Ok. Ok, Mr. Munson. Let’s talk.”

***

Jason exhaled as he took off his tie and laid his gun on the kitchen counter with his keys as he headed towards his living room.

“Long night?”

“Jesus Christ, dad!”, the man jumped as he clutched his chest. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were going to the fundraiser event tonight.”

“I was busy.”

“I hope you weren’t busy with anything involving the Munson crew.”

As his father rose to his feet, Jason stood up straighter.

“I told you. That asshole killed Andrew—”

“After you broke into his girlfriend’s house and pulled a gun on him?”

“He killed Patrick and my friends!”

“AFTER you kidnapped his friend WHO IS A COP and beat him up! You stupid idiot!”, his dad growls as his son flinches. “What’s this I hear about you starting fires, blowing up cars, and doing shootings outside of a police station?! And leaving these moronic notes like this is some gangster movie!”, George shouts as he grumbles the papers he was given and tossed them his way. “This is not how we run our business, Jason.”

“Edward Munson needs to be taken out.”, he seethes.

“Edward Munson will be left alone and so will his crew. That includes Steve Harrington and Y/N Y/L/N. Do you understand me, son?”

“Are you kidding!? He just gets away with killing my friends?!”

“BE GLAD I DON’T KILL YOU! Sit down!” Jason cowers at his father’s anger as he sits on the couch. “If you weren’t my son, I’d have gotten rid of you for how sloppy you’ve been. That being said you still need to understand that there are consequences to your actions.” Looking past him, George addresses the darkness behind his son’s ear. “He’s all yours.”

Something sharp stings the gangster’s neck as his world begins to spin.

“I trust whatever you come up with, Mr. Munson, the punishment will fit the crime.”

As you and Eddie come into view, Jason’s world goes dark.

#################

“Good morning, sunshine.”, Eddie jests as Jason’s eyes flutter open. “I wouldn’t wiggle too much if I were you. The view up here is pretty great but not when you’re falling down eight stories.”

The rival gangster’s eyes finally adjust to see the other man in front of him with you and Steve on either side. He tried to move but soon realized he was bound to a chair with duct tape over his mouth, completely at your mercy as he was perched near the edge of a tall building.

“You know, I’m a fan of movies myself. The one thing my father and I could connect on was The Godfather trilogy. Did you ever see those, Jason?” The man’s only response is trying to tug at his restraints. “No? That’s ok. The third one is utter garbage but that second one. Oof…so good. There’s one line in there that always stood out to me. ‘Chiedi di me ai tuoi amici del quartiere. Ti diranno che so come ricambiare un favore.’”

Stepping forward with his hands in his pockets he continues.

“It’s Italian. ‘Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me. They'll tell you I know how to return a favor.’”

The rival gangster’s eyes widen as Eddie kneels to his level, balancing on his heels as he speaks to him again is a soft tone laced subtle venom.

“You crossed a line, Carver. If it were up to me I would have killed you and your entire enterprise after hurting Steve and threatening Y/N. After the stunts you pulled this week, I almost did. You can thank this young lady here for talking me out of it.”

Jason’s eyes flick to your angry ones before looking at the other man again.

“She also suggested we talk to your father which was a brilliant idea. He’s very levelheaded and kind of funny. Right, guys?”

“Hysterical. He thought what you did at the police station was so amusing he recommended I take you in and throw you in a cell with Allen since you miss him so much.”, Steve quipped with a smirk.

“After blowing up my car and breaking into my apartment, he thought I should use some of things I learned at medical school as a punishment. Oddly enough, castration was the first thing to came to his mind. I told him I didn’t think you had any balls to remove since you were acting like a five-year-old.”, you add making Eddie’s smile widen.

“He also suggested we make the punishment fit the crime thus you’re ours for the next week, buddy!” As the gangster lightly taps his face, Jason starts to cry. “But, Carver, I’m not going to do that. Do you know why? I’m not my father and I’m not like you. I don’t kill for pleasure and I don’t like hurting people. I want this to stop. But make no mistake…” Eddie reaches for Jason’s throat and squeezes it between his ringed fingers. “If you ever threaten or hurt these two again or even fucking think of coming on to my side of Hawkins, I will burn your side to the ground and make you regret ever being born let alone taking your father’s mantle. Am I being clear?”

Ripping away the tape his lips, the gangster squeaks as he continues to cry.

“Yes! I understand. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Eddie.” After tapping his cheek again, Eddie turns taking your hand in his as you three head for the door to leave the roof of the building. “Hey! What about me?!”

“Oh, we’ll call the building super in the morning. Just…don’t lean back.”, Steve answers with a sarcastic thumbs up as the door closes behind him.

##################

You giggled in Eddie’s arms as he held you to him, kissing your lips with vigor as he carried you up the stairs with Steve trailing right behind.

“You…are…amazing.”, he cooed between each breath as he fell with you onto the bed.

“You really are.” Steve added as he threw himself beside you and began sucking on your neck.

Ringed fingers glided hastily up the slit in your dress, moving the silk blocking your core, and effortlessly pushed into your entrance, pumping in and out so quickly the sound of your arousal filled the room.

“Fuck, Eddie.”

“You got me so hard, sweetheart, watching the way you took control talking to George. Jesus and in that beautiful fucking dress.” Your hand floated down to cling to his as his digits inside of you moved at a relentless pace. “I had to keep telling myself to focus because all I wanted to do was push you against that wall and fuck you till you couldn’t walk straight.”

Steve gripped your chin turning you so your lips could meet his as the gangster’s head fell into the nook between your head and shoulder.

“You’re a bad girl now, baby. OUR bad girl.”

“Tr-treat me like one.”

The officer chuckled at your needy tone as you panted into his mouth.

“Yeah? You want us to show you how bad girls get treated?”

“P-Please…please. Fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“Ask nicely, Y/N.”

Leaning your head against the gangster’s, you murmured consistent pleas, begging for relief that he granted as the coil snapped and you practically screamed his name. Offering his fingers to his partner, Steve licked them clean before leaning over you so their lips could mingle together.

After digging in one of his drawers, Eddie produced some handcuffs and passed them over to Steve who took hold of your wrists restraining you to the headboard.

“These are my own set so they should feel more comfortable on your skin than his steel ones.”, Eddie grinned as he kissed your lips.

“Babe, you forgot to take off her dress.”

“Fuck, silly me.” Grabbing the slit in the fabric, he yanked it apart tearing it up the middle till it split in half and fell away. “There we go.”

“No bra, honey? Definitely bad girl behavior.”

“Eddie told me not to wear one.”, you whine as Steve’s gaze shifts his way.

“What? I like her tits. Sue me.”

While Eddie removed his suit, the officer yanked down your panties and tossed them onto the floor while he kissed your lips.

“I bet you want to suck my cock, don’t you dirty girl?”

“I do. Please.”

“I like that. Keep beginning me like that.”

Jumping back into bed, the gangster took hold of one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder before guiding his cock into your entrance.”

“Oh my god.”

Fingers circled tightly around your neck as your eyes met Steve’s anger filled ones.

“I said beg me for my dick, little girl.”

“P-Please, Steve. I wanna—fuck, Eddie—I wanna choke on your cock. Please! I need it!”

Quickly, he unbuckled his belt and shimmied down his pants enough to free his length, allowing it to hover over your lips.

“Tap three times loudly if you need to stop, ok?”

“Yes, yes sir.”

“Oh, look at that, Eds. Little girl found her manners.”

Eddie smirked as he continued to slam his hips into yours at a rough pace, his thick fingers digging into your thigh as he used it for leverage.

Opening your mouth, you prepared for some the things they had been teaching you. Flattening your tongue you waited, mewling when he finally gave you what you were begging for. As his cock slid down your throat, his fingers tangled in your hair and you focused on the feeling as he slowly thrust his hips.

“Good…good girl. That’s it. Shit, baby. That’s it. You’re almost taking all of me.” Feeling your body tremble, Steve holds you still, allowing you choke and gag around him as you cum. “Yes! You’re ok, baby. Just a couple more seconds.”

Tapping once, you signal you need air and he immediately pulls out to pet your head, murmuring praises as Eddie slows his rhythm to almost a complete stop as he caresses your leg comfortingly.

“Good girl, honey. You did so fucking good. It took all my energy not to cum to but I want to cum inside your tight pussy, pretty girl. So beautiful. What color are we at, Y/N?”

“Green, baby. Green.”

At the word, the gangster lifts your other leg, pushing them together as he slowly thrusts his cock deep inside you.

As your eyes roll back and you moan, Steve kisses away your tears before murmuring against your lips, “Do you still want my dick, baby girl? Do you want me to fuck your pretty little throat? Feel us both deep inside you. I wonder if I can feel myself here.”, he coos as he gently places his hand on your neck. “I know I can feel Eddie fucking you so good. Right, honey?”

His large palm trails down your skin till you feel him press on your lower belly making you whimper louder as your back arches and you tug on your restraints.

“Yeah, he’s right here, nice and deep.”

Eddie grunts as his pace hastens, his partners words amping him up as Steve smiles. Lifting up on his knees once more, the officer holds his tip just above your lips, chuckling as your tongue needily reaches for him.

“Don’t forget what we talked about. Tap if you need to breathe or stop, baby. I’m gonna fuck your throat hard, ok?”

“Y-Yes. Please—fuck—please.”

Sliding his dick into your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut as he did what he said, constantly hitting the back of your throat over and over as the obscene sound of you gagging and drooling filled their ears. Both men became almost feral at the noise, Eddie shaking the bed as he pounded into you and Steve tugging harshly on your hair while mumbling under his breath.

“That’s it, little girl. Jesus. Your mouth feels so fucking good. Atta girl. Choke on my cock, you dirty little whore making a fucking mess. Mmm!”

Your legs abruptly hit the mattress as Eddie fell on top of you, wrapping his arms around your back as he rolled his hips into yours. The officer pulled back, stroking himself with his hand as he watched you both cum together. The gangster laid still trying to catch his breath as Steve reached down to play his hair.

“Fuck me. This pussy is too good.”, Eddie groaned as he sat up and lightly spanked your behind. “I’m glad it’s ours.”

After pulling out of you, both men shared a passionate filled kiss as they switched places, Steve wiggling underneath you so your back was on his chest. While the officer ran his palms over your breasts and along your sides, Eddie took hold of his partners cock, spitting over the tip before running it between your folds, teasing you both as it grazed your clit.

“Please.”, you whine.

Smirking, he did what you asked as the two of you groaned. Steve’s hands gripped your thighs, holding your legs open as he planted his feet into the mattress and thrust up into you.

“Fuck.”

“God, sweetheart, I wish you could see you both from my angle.”, the gangster moaned as he watched his boyfriend’s cock disappear inside you as he stretched you open. “Fuck me. Stevie didn’t even have the patience to take off the rest of his clothes.”, he chuckles, faltering the man’s rhythm as Eddie tugs his pants that had been pooled at his ankles the rest of the way.

Dropping your legs, one of Steve’s hands pulled your hair back as his other roughly kneaded your breast.

“Move your hips.”, he growled as you mewled, trying your best to bounce and roll your waist. “Harder, little girl. Make yourself cum again.” He continued to grumble with a rough tone in your ear, commanding you to move faster repeatedly while smacking your tits with his palm. Screaming his name, you stopped moving as your body shook against him and you pulled hard on the cuffs above you. “Atta girl. Fuck, I can feel your pussy quivering around me. You’re gonna give me one more and I’m gonna cum with you.”

“I…I can’t.”

“Color, princess?”, Eddie whispers as he presses his nose to your cheek.

“Green.”, you mumble as the tears stream down your face.

“Yeah? Fuck you look so beautiful like this with your make up running down like this. Fuck, baby. You can do it. You can give us one more.”

Steve starts moving again with purpose knowing he won’t last long and you most likely will spent after this. After licking his fingers, the long-haired man places them on your clit, rubbing circles into your nub as your sweaty head leans back while the other man clings to your waist.

“There you go, Y/N. Come on, baby! One more. You can do it!”, Eddie encourages, both men moving so fast you don’t even realize it’s coming till your orgasm hits you like a freight train. “Good girl! Good fucking girl.”

Circling his arms around you, Steve’s pace becomes sloppy till you feel him warm your insides as he grunts in your ear.

“Please…please…no…no more. I can’t.”

“No, sweetheart. You did so good. I’m going to uncuff you ok?” You nod as the gangster releases you from your binds and you wince at your sore muscles as you slowly bring your arms down. Steve carefully turns you both onto your side before pulling out of you, mumbling soft apologies as he tries not to hurt you. “Whenever you’re ready, we’re going to take a bath, ok? It will feel good on your body.”

After a few minutes of them smiling tenderly at you as they caressed and kissed parts of your skin, you signaled you were ready and Eddie lifted you into his arms as Steve ran the water. Doing what had become the norm, the gangster lit a cigarette as he sat behind you on the edge of the tub with his feet in the water as he began to clean you. What was new was when the officer pulled a wet wipe from a bag and kneeled beside you to clean your face.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, um, makeup remover. I bought it a while ago before all the bullshit happened for when you spend the night with us. Chrissy said this was a good brand for girl’s skin but if you have another just let me know.” It took him a moment to realize you two were staring at him with small smiles on your lips. “What? Hey, I’m a nice guy!”

“Yes, you are, pretty boy.”, Eddie coos sassily as he leans over to give him a peck as the man rolls his eyes.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

His eyes remain downcast as he throws it away and places the bag on the counter.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. WE want to…want you to be comfortable…and happy. Are you? Happy I mean.”

Tilting his chin, you kiss his lips as well making his smile grow.

“I am happy. Thank you for everything. It means a lot to me.”

Eddie’s already prepared when you lean your head back to kiss his lips as well making you giggle when he lingers making a loud mwah sound.

“Just because we settled the stuff with Jason doesn’t mean I’m out of danger does it?”

Both men freeze in place as they blink before Steve climbs into the bath in front of you and Eddie slides in behind you.

“No, it doesn’t. There’s always going to be people that want to challenge me and just because we scared Carver doesn’t mean he won’t fuck up again.”

“And like I told you before, now that people know you’re with Eddie, it may cause some ears to perk up with the police which may put more eyes on you than you’re used to.”

“But, sweetheart, we promise you we will do everything we can to keep you safe. I’d hurt or kill to protect you just like with Steve.”

“And, honey, I would hide evidence or lie to anyone in the department to protect you. Not just from people but any kind of jail time.”

“You’re ours, Y/N, and we will take care of you no matter what.”

You can feel their eyes penetrate you as your own remain off to the side as you absorb what they are saying.

Gently, fingers grip your chin, turning you to meet Steve’s soft honey hues.

“You can still leave if you want to. We can come up with a story to explain the party if you still want to have some…semblance of normalcy.”

“Whoa. Steve Harrington is breaking out the big words.”

You laughed at Eddie’s joke as the officer narrowed his eyes in playful annoyance.

“I don’t want to leave. I…”

You want to say it so bad. You want to tell them that you love them. But it’s only been a couple of months and they’ve been together for almost a year. No. You don’t want to scare them away after everything they just did to keep you safe. No…

“I…I trust you both.”

When you flash them a smile both men grin back as Eddie hugs you against his chest and Steve kisses your forehead.

##############

@5tud10-54r4h @munsonzgf @eddiesguitarskills @supraveng

@lilaclazer @ima1986 @micheledawn1975 @foreverminliv @corkadymu

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @joannamuns9n @dashingdeb16 @sashaphantomhive @corrodedcoffincumslut @aactuaaltraash @nailbatanddungeon

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mediumgayitalian · 21 days

Text

part one

———

Finding parking is, as expected, hard, largely in part because Michael wants to get them all killed.

“— yeah, that’s right, shitwad! Back off! We were here —”

“Will you please shut the fuck up,” Lee hisses, jamming the switch for Michael’s window. Unfortunately, Michael is sticking his fucking head out of it, so it won’t close.

“This fucking guy! This fucking guy thinks he can swoop up to our spot —”

“Motherfucker we’re in Wilmington, do you want to get fucking shot —”

“He can wait his godsdamn turn like everybody else! Hey, fucker —”

He succeeds, finally, in yanking his brother back in by the scruff of his neck and speeding away from the shitwad in question.

“I can’t believe you let him walk all over us!”

“If I end up with a bullet hole through my windshield, I am kicking your ass, Michael. I won’t need to worry about some trigger happy mortal taking you out. I’ll kill you.”

“Drama queen. Now we’re never gonna find a damn spot.”

They do, in fact, find a damn spot. Within forty-three seconds of Michael saying that, actually, Will points out not just a parking spot but a pull-through, which Lee takes, smirking. Michael aims a kick for his knee.

“Go help Will unbuckle, you bitter bitch. I gotta grab something.”

Ignoring both Michael’s grumbling and Will’s insistence that he can unbuckle himself, thank you very much, Lee jogs over to the trunk. He grabs his and Michael’s bows, just in case, and carefully grabs the bundle of roses he bought from the stand across from his apartment. The stems are a little crushed, but the flowers all seem fine, full and bright, sunny yellow. Even the paper is relatively uncrinkled, folding delicately around the thorny leaves.

Michael nods when he sees them. “Nice.”

“Thanks.” Lee tosses him his bow, slinging his own over his back. It flickers with his quiver under the Mist, settling eventually to look like a small backpack. “Got ‘em this morning.”

“Can I hold them?” Will asks.

“Sure, kiddo.”

He lays them gently in his arms, the same way Cass has taught him to bundle herbs and plants when they gather for poultices. Every step is suddenly much more deliberate, avoiding potholes and cracks in the pavement so he doesn’t trip and crush them under his body. When he nearly walks in front of a car, not paying attention, Michael plants a hand on his head, guiding him around like a claw machine.

“Okay,” Lee says, holding open the door. “Let’s find Diana.”

The lobby is crowded. There are people everywhere — families, grandparents, and of course dozens of dancers, shining hair pieces glinting in the low lights, tutus and rhinestones peeking out of studio sweatsuits. Faces heavy with stage makeup bleed into each other. The building is abuzz with sound, chatter and laughter and shouting and twenty different songs playing at once. Lee can hardly believe they’re all fitting in the same building, and almost convinces himself it’s actually enchanted, smaller on the outside. He glances down when Will backs into him, flowers clutched tighter to his chest, and rests a firm hand on his shoulder. He hooks his finger around Michael’s hoodie, too, and for once he doesn’t complain.

“You see her?” he shouts over the noise. Or, well, Lee’s pretty sure that’s what he said. He shakes his head, anyway, and Michael scowls, standing uselessly on his tiptoes. Even if that didn’t put him just barely over most people’s shoulders, the throng of people is too thick to see much. People elbow and push each other around to meet up with family members, and groups of dancers do their best to practice their routines in what limited space is available. Lee has felt less claustrophobic in Times Square at Christmas.

In a stroke of brilliance, in his very humble opinion, he lets go of Will’s shoulder, puts both hands under his arms, and hauls him over his head, settling him on his shoulders.

“Keep an eye out,” he shouts.

Will grins, tugging on Lee’s hair with his free hand in confirmation.

One hand clamped over Will’s knees, the other still hooked on Michael’s hoodie, Lee starts to wade through the crowd. He can start to see, as he gets farther from the door, the entrance to the stage, the ticket stands, the coat check. Several banners hang temporarily from the ceiling and stick to doorways, welcoming them all to the Twenty-Sixth Annual Believe Dance Comp!, and a table laden with trophies sits proudly by the stage doors.

Sitting under one of the banners, Lee notices a group of girls of varying ages, all wearing the green and purple Stage Lights Dance Academy Cass sometimes wears. He guides them closer, scanning each stage makeup-ed face to try and find his sister, but stops short before he gets too close.

Two girls, sitting at the head of the group, mime twisting their hair, exaggeratedly anxious looks on their faces. The rest of the girls roar with laughter.

Lee feels something heavy settle in his stomach.

“You think anyone will come for her?” a younger girl asks, hushed so that Lee can barely hear her over the crowd.

One of the older girls snorts. “Are you kidding? The only way her mom will come is if there’s an open bar!”

Lee is reminded of the one and only time he’d fought a group of empousai. There’d been a trio of them a Central Park, on a field trip he’d gone on with his ninth grade class, surrounding one of the oak dryads. They’d crooned at her, tugging on her leafy hair and trailing clawed fingers down her handmade dress, calling out backhanded compliments. But Lee’s skin felt like it was crawling, he remembers, and the dryad had been tense, green tears building in her eyes. Every bleat of their laughter had grated his ears, and he’d snapped, eventually, ripping off his bow and picking them off one by one. The third one had seen him, chasing him away from his group, but he’d been so mad that he wasn’t even scared. The dryad hadn’t done anything. They got nothing from poking at her. They’d just done it to be cruel, because it was fun for them.

“I don’t even know why she has the gall to show up. She missed the final practice.”

“Miss Breanna likes her, that’s why,” one of the girls scoffs. “Of course she can skiff off practice and still compete. She thinks she’s so much better than us.”

Michael shifts forward. Lee throws out an arm to stop him, shooting him a warning look.

“You think anyone’ll take your side?” he murmurs.

“They’re talking about —!”

“I know, Michael.”

“They can’t talk about her like that!”

“I know, Michael.” He forces his jaw to unclench. “I know.”

“Yeah, well, favourite or not,” another dancer says wickedly, “her seats will be empty again. And she’ll walk out empty-handed and alone, like she always does.”

Most of the adults milling about the lobby hold flowers, like they do. Except unlike them, their bouquets are large, unlike them the stems are not crushed, unlike them they are wrapped in ribbons, in embroidered banners. One is, even, shaped as a ballet slipper, and Lee notices the oldest girl in the group, the one who made the joke about Cass’s mother, eyeing it, smirking.

He pictures Cass holding it next to all the other girls from her studio. With their big, normal families, their wide smiles, their fancy cameras, their beautiful, expensive bouquets. Pictures the smirks that will be sent her way, the whispers. They can’t — gods, what was he thinking?

“What time is it?” he asks.

Michael glances at his watch. “Quarter to.”

“Hm.”

In her frantic IM, yesterday, Diana had ordered them to be here by noon. From what little he knows about dance competitions, Cass’s performance will be sometime after that, nestled among the many. When exactly, he doesn’t know.

If they leave now, wagering, they could miss it. And that would be the worst thing of them all. But…

“Will,” he says, suddenly getting an idea. “C’mere.”

He reaches up and sets Will back on the ground, clutching his hand as he weaves through the crowd, beelining for the far corner. He stops at a sign with a little stick person on it, gently taking the flowers from Will’s hold and passing them back to Michael.

“Listen to me carefully.” He crouches to Will’s level, meeting his eyes. “Diana is — somewhere, in there, getting Cass ready. Michael and I can’t go in there. We need you to go in and act really confused.”

“That will be very easy, because I am confused,” Will protests. “Why do I have to go in there? I don’t even really know why we’re here!”

“Just — go in,” Lee insists. “Trust me. If I give you more instructions, it’ll ruin it.”

Huffing, Will goes.

“Brilliant,” Michael mutters. “Lose the kid and Diana. Great plan, Lee.”

“Come on, does no one trust me?”

“No one knows what you’re doing, dude! You hang around Carter for five minutes and suddenly you think you’re Mr. Plan Guy —”

Lee flushes. “That is not what this is about!”

“I am not missing this! I swear Lee, if we’re late —”

“We’re not gonna be late!”

“Why is it that every boy on Earth is actually stupid,” hisses a new voice. The change room door busts open, damn near cracking under the heel of a heavy boot, and Diana comes striding out behind it, Will perched on her hip. Her short dark hair sticks out in every which way, shoulders tense as a line, mouth twisted in a scowl. Immediately, Lee and Michael snap their mouths shut.

“Hey,” Will complains, pouting.

She adjusts her hold on him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not you, sweetpea. Only Thing One and Thing Two, over here.” She glares at them. “Why did I find him wandering around in the change room? I told you to wait for me in the lobby! I swear you two want to — ruin this!”

“Hey,” Lee says, flinching back. “You know we don’t, Diana. That’s not fair.”

She scrubs a hand down her face, sighing. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. It’s just —” She presses another kiss to Will’s cheek and sets him down, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s been a rough morning. She keeps trying to call her mom, and — well.”

Lee hates that those girls were right. He hates it. He hates that they’ve been right before, that Cass has walked off the stage, face blank, alone. Hearing their giggling, probably. Twisting her hair around her fingers as she tries to hold it together.

His jaw tightens.

Not this fucking time.

“What time is Cass on?” he asks

“…Her solo at one-thirty,” Diana says. “But —”

“Great.” Lee grabs each brother’s shoulder, pulling them back. “We won’t be late, Diana, I promise.”

“Wait! Lee — dude, what are you —”

“We’ll meet you inside! Save us seats!”

“Lee! Get back here!”

“Seats!” Lee calls, glancing back. He makes a vague gesture in return to her incredulous, spread-wide hands, trying to convey the Situation. “We won’t be late! Promise!”

“I’ll kill you if you are!” she relents. “Be fucking back on time!”

———

In hindsight, it would have been smarter to take the car.

For whatever reason, both Lee and Michael assumed there would be a flower stand just outside the theatre. Neither of them had seen one on the way in, but it made sense. If Lee had a flower business, he’d probably put it next to a theatre. Where else would you put it?

Regardless, there isn’t anything close across the street, or even on the whole block. Will sits on his shoulders again, because it’s easier than trying to guide him, and every so often he glances at the watch Beckendorf made him, calling out the time.

“Will,” Lee begs, veering around a street corner, “you are not helping.”

“I am so!” He checks his watch again. “Twenty-seven minutes ‘til Cass starts. That’s why we’re here, right? To watch Cass dance?”

“So long as we make it in time,” Michael stresses. “Shit, Lee, maybe we should just head back. The flowers we have are fine —”

“Cass deserves more than fine.”

Michael snaps his mouth shut. “I know that.”

Lee slumps. “I — know you know. Sorry.”

Their steps fall in synch, footsteps making level prints in the light dusting of snow. On occasion a passing car drowns them out, but for the most part the only sound is their breathing, and Will picking at his nails. The shifting of their jackets.

“You’ll never undo it, Lee.” The road cross button makes a heavy click noise under Michael’s fist. The countdown for the walking man is loud, four, three, two, one. Three of the little lights are broken, making it look like its chest is cracked open. “There’s some shit you just can’t fix.”

“I’m not trying to — fix her,” he argues weakly. “I’m just…”

He can’t push away the horrible ache in his chest. The rapidly expanding feeling, the sinking chasm of expecting and hoping and being disappointed. Of looking out into the crowd to find a familiar face and not finding one. Of hearing giggles as you walk past and clenching your teeth, knowing. It balloons, pushing out on his ribcage, forcing its way up his throat.

Michael stops, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed. Lee stares at a spot at the air above his shoulder, swallowing roughly, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood.

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, Lee. You think competing with those assholes is gonna — go back? Gonna magically bring her fucking — hell, bring Dad?”

Lee looks away. “Of course not.”

“We’re going to be there. That’s what matters, isn’t it? That’s what’s really important.”

“Oh, to hell with high horses, Michael. I’m fucking tired of — of pretending it’s okay!” He starts forward again, ignoring the twinge of pain in his skull when Will grips his hair, yelping at the sudden surge forward. Michael jogs to keep up. “It’s — fight these monsters, train these kids, lead your cabin. Ignore the fact that your dad couldn’t be assed to visit a few times a year, he’s an Olympian, after all, you understand. Well, I’m tired of it! I’m tired of —” he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, barely catching himself — “I’m tired of being so damn understanding!”

For a moment Michael says nothing. Lee’s breathing is heavy, shakey, and it takes effort to still the tremble in his hands.

“The girl,” Michael says eventually. “The prissy one, who sat closer to the door.”

“…What about her?”

“I just.” He chews at his bottom lip. “I’m not saying I disagree with you, dude, but you have issues, dude, and shit you need to work out. For real. Besides just —” he gestures broadly at the mostly empty street — “ranting into the air.” Slowly, a smirk spreads across his face. “It would be really, really funny to see her face if Cass walks out with a bouquet three times the size of hers, wouldn’t it.”

Lee matches his grin. “It would be.”

“Betcha she’d seethe.”

“Probably turn purple.”

They turn to each other, finally back in synch.

“Nineteen minutes,” Will pipes up.

Lee startles. He checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Let’s go.”

———

part three

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