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dev1lm4n · 10 months

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lesson one: sensitive

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: under several notable circumstances, mr. miller finally decided that he'd be the best teacher for your first debut into sexual activities. even when all of it is to prepare you for your successful date.

word count: 5.4k (i know.. i went a little crazy on this lol)

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, fingering, he's kinda mean, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: i had so much fun writing this! tbh this one is super filthy compared to the other one so.. forgive me 🤲 COMMENT n REBLOG if u liked it

“I could take you home if you’d like. Pretty girls like you shouldn’t roam the street alone.”

Simon, more commonly referred to as Robotic Class Guy or French Fries, was surprisingly not half as bad as you thought he would be. He had all the height of a man but none of the bulk. From behind he could be easily spotted as someone in their late teens to early thirties, mostly blaming his horrid graphic tee and skinny jeans combo, but when he turned that face was all boy. His caramel hair flopped over his eyes in the way no office worker could get away with and on his wrist were bracelets in woven leather.

At first, you accepted his awkward invite out of spite.

Just to rid yourself of a certain plague festering upon your head, feasting on your brain cells so that you’d think of nothing but Mr. Miller in all his glory. Him with his tight worn-out jeans, spread open enough that you could see a naughty peak of his bulge, while he watched the soccer game. Him with his shirt off, bathing in the summer-induced moisture, while he mowed the front lawn and edged the curb. Him with his thumb parting your lips, looking at you like he’s about to consume you alive, but of course he didn’t.

At least now that Simon came around, you’d have a new port to anchor your boat on.

“No, thanks, I’m alright. My..”

Who was Mr. Miller to you again?

Your.. father? Absolutely not. Even if he’s taken you in as a part of the Miller family, just like how he used to say, you would feel like it’d be morbidly repulsive to deduce him to that particular role. For fuckssake, you stick a finger up your cunt every single week to the thought of him fucking you like one of his girls.

Then would a family friend be better of a word? Or should you just say that he’s a guardian of yours? But that’d be confusing, wouldn’t it? You glanced at your watch, counting the hour and minute hand as if it’d give you a revelation on how to answer Simon’s pop quiz.

“Someone promised to pick me up.”

That sure did sound ominous.

With a promise to leave a message to his cell once you’ve returned home safely, you stepped out of the quaint local restaurant. It was warm outside and you weren’t particularly fond of that. Heat has always been your mortal enemy; something about the musty scent of middle school boys’ armpits after PE class mixed in with the pungent perfumes they use to try and hide it has left you permanently traumatized. Your once-cheery mood had long evaporated along with any semblance of coolness. You tugged at the hem of your sundress, fanning yourself with your hand in a futile attempt to find relief from the stifling heat. This is hell!

Where was Mr. Miller?

Mr. Miller must've read your mind, because a honk quickly resonated. He was on the very corner of the parking lot; his large pickup truck looked hilariously out of place when compared to the array of city cars parked by his side. You swore you could see him grin from behind the shaded tint of his window, perhaps entertained at your almost too obvious annoyance. The thought made your heart jump and maybe even did a front-flip. God, you’re helpless!

As you beelined down the sidewalk and on to him, the heat seemed to intensify with every step. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead, causing your hair to stick in weird shapes. You just hope that his truck’s AC works.

“Hi.. Hi, Mr. Miller.”

“Hey, sweetheart. How was it?”

The nickname never ceased to exude so much power. ‘Sweetheart’ made you feel as if a tail had grown out right from the hilt of your ass and you had no other choice than to swish it around excitedly. You propped up one leg on the washed-off gray carpet, before swinging yourself into the vehicle in one go. The door closed behind with a loud thud. As you leaned back, you cringed at the feeling of your sweat-soaked dress clinging onto your skin. You felt like some marinated beef, sticky and in need of a quick shower.

“It was alright,” you hummed.

“Alright? Now that made me all the more curious,” he grinned, nudging your side with the edge of his elbow. “Com’on now. Tell me all about it, will ya?”

“Mr. Miller, are you trying to embarrass me?”

Mr. Miller’s soothing brown eyes that were stuck on the glittering street lights came flickering over to you, as if he’s actually afraid that perhaps he’s made you uncomfortable. His shoulders squared and his jaw slackened for just a split second as he tried to grasp for any nuance you’ve just given. You then smiled at him, relieving him of his worries.

It’s a little jarring to say that you think he’s quite cute. In the same way people find puppies cute, or those strawberry-shaped trinkets. He’s a little socially-awkward in his own way. Embarrassed to ask the waitress to bring his plate back, but would be confident bullying his cock into a tight cunt. Would definitely get kooky when asked to join a parents-teacher conference, but would whisper filthy things on the internet.

“I ain’t tryna make you embarrassed,” he huffed out. “I just wanna know you’re safe.”

How nice. If only he knew why you went on dates in the first place.

“He’s alright, Mr. Miller. Kind, decently groomed, respectful,” you replied, flicking through your Twitter feed mindlessly. “Better than most college guys.”

“Did he pick you up?”

Your forehead scrunched up. “I ordered a cab.”

“Did he at least get the door for you?”

“It’s not exactly the 1900’s, is it?” you quipped back at him.

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for your answer.

“If you’re that curious, then no.”

“Well then, did he pay for dinner?”

“No, well.. I did offer for us to split it,” you reasoned.

“Well, sweetie, he’s not too respectful. Is he?”

“Yeah.. but he’s cute.”

He’s cute and you’re desperate to get over Mr. Miller. Terribly so. At first, the entire situation with having your pornstar crush be the head of your host family was hilarious, it’s a joke written by itself. But then the desires went through the roof in a matter of weeks and you’re sure that you’d actually jump him one of these days. He’s attached to the back of your mind like some ghostly presence. Everything he said and done carved at your brittle wall of determination and one day it’s all going to fall apart like broken glass. You needed to stop it from happening.

There was a minute or so where he didn’t have anything to say. He hadn’t let go of the handbrakes either, though he appeared to be squeezing the leather cover of the steering wheel tighter.

“Cute ain’t enough for a man, sweetheart.”

Mr. Miller finally pushed down the handbrakes and released the pickup truck from the small parking lot. His large hands skillfully turned the wheels to fit through the tiny gaps, guiding the vehicle towards the open road. You shut your eyes for a good minute, then you let out a weighted sigh. Almost as if you’re a deflated balloon.

The drive was going to be a long one, considering the restaurant you’re on was in the heart of the town and Mr. Miller’s humble abode was more towards the outskirts. Would he continue preaching about the importance of Southern manners and being a gentleman? Because if he did, perhaps you’d just shut him up with a kiss.

“I’m just a little nervous,” you broke the silence.

“Because of the boy?”

“Sorta, yeah. It’s my first time..”

You clicked your phone shut, stuffing it on the cup holder next to the car stick. The entire conversation was making you nauseous. You had to press on the button on your left to slide down the windows in order to take in fresh air. Through the open window, a gentle breeze tousled the top of your hair, carrying with it the familiar scent of Summer in Austin. As he drove closer into the outskirts of town, the lights gradually faded behind into a sea of twinkling stars.

“First time in what?”

“In all this,” your hand motioned the idea abstractly.

“You’ve never dated?”

An enthusiastic grin snaked its way to his lips.

“I have! But it’s not- it’s not real. It’s middle school romance. We meet each other in the hallways, hold hands and giggle about it, then go on pizza dates,” you tried to explain. “I’ve never dated properly.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” you tousled your hair in frustration. “Just because, Mr. Miller. I’m not sure either. Maybe I’m just comfortable in my own little bubble?”

“Then this boy.. What’s his name again?”

“Simon.”

“Right, Simon. Are you thinking of dating Simon properly?”

“Maybe,” you muttered.

“Maybe I could teach you,” he paused. “Well, that is if you’d like this old man to teach you old tricks.”

Your hands tightly clutched the edge of your seat. A rise of bile disturbed your throat's peace as a knot of anxiety started to form in your stomach. This is what you’re working towards.

You didn’t want to admit it, because admitting means legitimizing what you had in mind, but you were hoping for him to offer you help in any way that he felt was right. Despite your.. odd relationship with him, he was your guardian and you’ve seen the way he dealt with all Sarah’s problems with soft-spoken words and fair actions. You trusted him to help you delve into this new world of adult romance, but it’s not like you’re expecting for him to agree on it. Shit, shit, shit! You couldn’t think straight.

“Com’on then. Tell me what you’re so nervous of.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me,” you groaned.

“I’m not!”

“You are,” you persisted.

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.”

You took a deep breath. The single word sticky on the end of your tongue.

“Sex.”

The pickup truck swerved.

To your surprise, instead of howling and laughing at your lack of experience, he was quiet. Awfully so to the point where you think you’d rather have him laugh at your patheticness instead of giving you the cold shoulder. You rolled the window back up, giving him your full attention as you waited for him to do something. He looked tense; the grip he had on the steering wheel was so tight you could see the leather developing crescent-shaped marks. What was he thinking of?

“Do I.. do I have to give you the talk?”

“God, no! Mr. Miller, I’m not clueless,” you looked horrified that he even considered giving you the birds and the bees talk. “I am, but I know what happens.”

The hours you’ve spent analyzing each and every one of his videos surely made an impact on how you view sex. Perhaps not the most accurate one, since you were merely looking through a 720p video and not being present in the scene, but you knew how sex goes. How it starts, what arousal looks like, what appears to feel good and what doesn’t, and how good an orgasm looks like when induced by another person. Mr. Miller might not be aware of how much he’s taught you. Not directly, but in a cause-and-action kind of way.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he hummed.

“Making a mistake,” you muttered dejectedly. “Of it not feeling good.”

A beat passed.

“Do you..” he struggled to speak properly. “Do you want me to teach you?”

What were you thinking! It was one thing to harbor intense, disgustingly filthy feelings towards a man who perceived you as an addition to his family, but it was another thing to act on it desperately. Your mind reeled back towards the exact moment when you agreed on his proposition. How you agreed on it instantly as if it wasn’t even a question, how you nodded your head miserably as if you were afraid that you’d miss this one chance, how you buckled your knees at the thought.

God, how pathetic can you be! You didn’t remember much after such a cathartic turn of events. All you managed to compile in that pretty little head of yours was that he took a different interchange, then slipped onto a highway towards.. whatever this place was.

It was on the outskirts of town. Opposite to where he lived. Big trees grew tall and heavy as they provided a mystique veil for the trailer house. You remembered the shade of peeling paint covering the outside, sky blue. The lanterns provided ample lighting for it to be spotted from a distance, but not enough to attract rowdy attention. Mr. Miller told you to come inside first while he secured his pickup truck properly. He mentioned a thing or two about racoons or squirrels, but you were too high off adrenaline to even notice. Being in the property, you instantly knew where you were.

This was his lair.

Where he shoots his videos, where he invites all his pretty co-stars to make them moan and whimper about how good his cock felt and how deep it went, where he edits those striking millennial-core thumbnails. Your throat grew dry and you began to think if it’s time to bail. He’d understand, wouldn’t he? Mr. Miller would just take you home and forget about it. Then, by next summer, you’d be out of his hair and he’d never even think about it.

A creak sounded from the front door. You jumped.

“Hi, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. Your entire body went cold, especially the tips of your fingers and toes as you saw him come close. One step at a time. Almost as if he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t scare you too much. Mr. Miller looked awfully big up close. You never seemed to notice this entirely when you see him around the house, but when he’s confined in this miniscule trailer house, he looked massive. His presence towered over every last bit of your confidence. It’s surely crumpling - your confidence - slowly dissipating into thin when he was flushed against your chest.

“I’m okay, Mr. Miller.”

He pulled a foldable chair from one of the open compartments, before taking a seat on it. He spread his legs, as always, and had this look in his eyes.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he paused, before resuming. “You could tell me you don’t feel like doin’ this anymore and I could take you home. Won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t wanna.”

“I.. I want to do this, Mr. Miller.”

“Are you sure? There ain’t no pressure in this. I’m simply here to help you, sweetheart, so if you feel like-”

“I get it, okay, I get it. I trust you. A lot. And I know you’d be the best person to teach me.”

What were you even saying? This was straight out of your wildest wet dreams and perhaps that’s why you’re so adamant about it. You watched silently as he contemplated his choices. Mr. Miller scratched his beard for a short while, his gaze focused beyond you and you could almost watch in real-time how his morals and values crumbled onto the creaky floorboards. He stood up from his small chair and headed right towards where you were standing idly. Is this what May felt like in those videos?

“Alright, sweetheart. I ain’t a vocal man so this is gonna be challenging even for me,” he chuckled gruffly. “Every man has their way of settlin’ with their ladies, but I like ‘em stripped off their clothing first. So will you be a pretty thing and do that for me?”

For a second, you were as still as a rock. Entirely not used to having the person who initiated many if not all of your orgasms giving you these orders in real life. He’s right there in front of you, flesh and bones, telling you to strip off your clothing. It felt like a fever dream. You must’ve had a weird look on your face, because a grin started to form on those chapped lips of his.

Conscious of the mistake, you quickly reacted. Almost skittishly in a way as you pulled on the zipper that’s located on your right ribs. Your fingers fumbled with one another, as if it’s been braided into one, but you managed to loosen it after a few attempts. You slipped your right arm under the spaghetti straps, before you slipped the other one. The only thing holding your modesty together was your one arm that’s holding onto the support-less front flap of your sundress.

“Com’on now. It’s just me. You can act shy and adorable around Simon, but not this old man,” he teased.

You nodded, hesitantly letting your arms fall to the side. The terribly warm weather encouraged you not to wear a bra. Although you wondered if 3 PM you knew that you’re going to be engaging in some promiscuous agenda this evening. You looked up into his eyes for some kind of guidance, in which he responded with a curt nod, before you tugged on the dress so that it’d slide onto the floor.

Now the only piece of modesty you’re wearing is your plain white panties. Your breasts were entirely exposed, cold nipples firming up as it reacted to the change of temperature. This is embarrassing! Mr. Miller was being incredibly methodical in the ways in which he approached the situation, lacking sloppy mouthy kisses and feverish touches.

“Smart girl,” he complimented, almost on instinct. “Let’s get on the bed, yeah?”

You moved adjacent to him. Mr. Miller was gentle when he patted the spot next to him, allowing you to settle down properly while he fixed a pillow behind your back. To think that you’re positioned on the same bed where you’ve witnessed him please an array of girls made you feel some sort of way. A hitch in your heart, a twitch in your hole. You’ve never witnessed him this gentle. He’s always fond of establishing the power he held on the dynamic he’s presented, always telling girls what to do in quick succession and calling them humiliating names if they fail to do as told. With you, he was sweet and rather funny.

“In my experience, one of the things girls like the most is to be withdrawn from control,” he spoke up into the thick air. You didn’t miss the way his eyes cruised along your beaded nipples, or the way it watched you with feral precision. “Of course, it depends on the person. But you. I think you’re a sensitive one, are you?”

You nodded obediently.

“Cross your arms behind your back,” he ordered and watched closely as you followed suit. “Lean back onto the pillow.”

You copied his order. Only then did your finicky brain finally compute that you’re limited off your movements now. With your body weight acting like paper weight for your arms, it’d be impossible for you to react in quick time.

“Good girl.”

His mindless comment made you tighten your thighs together.

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” he whispered gently. You could watch how he’s slowly approaching you with much caution. His arms caged you in as it dug into the tangled sheets next to you. He’s testing the currents, making sure you’re fully consenting to the experience before he makes any mistake that might ruin your perception of sex. “Ask your little friend to touch you slowly. None of that frisky aimless touching. If he pulled on your nipples and called it a day, I’d leave his ass.”

This little routine he had, the one Wicked Fantasies had, was memorized into your head and to watch it take place right in front of you made you ecstatic. He caressed the side of your face. Gently even with those big, large fingers of his, he managed to take up a good portion of your cheek. Mr. Miller then made his way to your lips. He swiped it once over your upper lip, then another time over your thicker bottom lip. You’d anticipate for him to stick his thumb in deep enough so that he could see your uvula properly, but he didn’t. Instead, he settled on pressing down your tongue as if to pin it against the lower floor of your mouth. A good amount of saliva was collected that when he pulled away, a lewd string remained intact.

“Do you know why I like pinning a girl’s tongue down?” he queried to increase comfort in a way.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly. “Why?”

“It makes ‘em docile,” he muttered. “Encourages submission and I like a pretty girl who listens.”

Mr. Miller’s fingers dragged through the curves and texture of your warm skin, leaving goosebumps on his wake, before he finally reached your two perky nubs. Each one hardened before he could give them the treatment they both deserved, which in a way broke his routine, but instead of being irritated, he appeared to be pleased.

Girls in his videos weren’t as sensitive as you. They didn’t get riled up just by a little touching and teasing. Seeing you like this was a refreshing touch. One that made the wrinkles on his forehead ripple as his eyebrows quirked. He circled his calloused finger around where the pigmentation started. Once, twice. Right until he was merciful enough to press against the apex of your nipples.

You squirmed.

“So sensitive, are you?” he cooed. “Tell Simon to play with your sensitive little nipples, hm? You look like you could cum just by this.”

“O-oh please!”

“Please?”

You couldn’t respond. Not when he’s rolling the most sensitive part of your nipples between the pads of his thumb and the side of his pointer finger. Touching your breasts with your own nimble hands felt nothing like what he’s doing right now. You instinctually grinded your leaking pussy down onto the bed, almost like an animal in heat.

“Poor thing couldn’t even tell me what she wants. What would Simon think, hm? A girl with no self control like you,” he hummed. Mr. Miller quickly held onto your thighs so that you’d stop rocking onto the bed and getting off from pleasure he’s not offering. Your eyes met his, searching for help, but the sweet and respectful Mr. Miller wasn’t there anymore. “Alright now, sweetheart. You have ta make sure that you’re thoroughly aroused before thinkin’ of even touchin’ this place.”

“You’re new at this,” he hummed. His fingers slipped off the hold he had on your nipples before it slid down your stomach and settled precisely above your clothed clitoris. “It’s gonna hurt bad if you’re not properly lubricated. Sex is supposed to be fun, not painful so if some guy tells you that it’s supposed to hurt, don’t listen to his dumb shit.”

Mr. Miller was incredibly informative if you put aside the fact that he’s touching you in all the right places that it’s making you go dumb. He spent the time explaining why an action must be provided and how to perform it, when you know for a fact that this is not what he’s used to doing. Wicked Fantasies was known to be straight with words, using minimal sentences to provide his co-stars with just the right amount of information. You could tell he’s holding back the urge to be meaner, to act the way he likes, just for you to be more comfortable.

“Let’s take a look, shall we? You think I did a good job, darlin’?”

It’s dark out. There’s only one source of light that’s present in the room. A small bedside lamp in the shape of an elephant, Sarah’s favorite animal that’s grown to be yours as well. This session with him felt intimate; you’d expect for him to bring out the bright light panels and reflectors just like in those videos you watched of him, but instead, he mostly depended on the moonlight rays.

You were acutely aware of how those dark eyes of his mirrored your own. The way he studied you was unlike any other, not with an invasive intent, but rather with heed. You watched as he hooked his fingers on each side of your panties. Slowly dragging it down, only to stop to wait for you to ease your thighs upwards.

“Look at you,” he chuckled. “I’m right about you bein’ sensitive. Don’t think we need any lube when your pussy looks like this.”

By instinct, you brought your thighs together, shy that he’s observing you with such vulgar intensity. He hummed out a tone of disapproval and quickly placed his arms on both of your knees, prying the two apart as if he’s opening a stubborn can of bolognese. You bit your bottom lip, stifling the noise of embarrassment.

Anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You wondered if you looked okay down there - no other men had seen it besides him! - or if there was something strange that caused him to halt. There was a lewd string of sticky arousal pooling on the center of your panties. You silently watched as it stretched and broke as Mr. Miller pulled the thin fabric away.

“You’re soaked, sweetie,” he teased.

“Mr. Miller, that’s- that’s embarrassing..”

“You like to touch yourself, don’t you?”

Your eyes flickered towards his direction in fear. Has he discovered your incurable obsession for him and his erotic videos? That couldn’t be, could it? There’s no scientific correlation between being extremely aroused with masturbation as far as you’re aware, but the confidence he exude made you doubt yourself. Mr. Miller moved in a painfully slow tempo, taking his time to caress your inner thighs and stomach before even considering touching you where it ached. His calloused fingers felt different against your skin. It left a fiery trail in its wake.

“No, I don’t,” you lied with a breathless squeak.

“It’s okay if you like to touch yourself, y’know,” he whispered as if taunting you. “Girls who like to touch themselves understand themselves better.”

Mr. Miller finally touched you properly. His pointer finger probed against your clitoris, touching in the lightest feathery manner possible that you couldn’t have felt it if you weren’t concentrating. Your hips followed the brief source of pleasure, only to be disappointed when you notice that he wasn’t there. He pulled his finger close to his mouth and made a big show out of it. The way your arousal glistened under the pale moon rays, Mr. Miller teased you with his expressions and mannerism. He dipped the stained finger in his lips to have a good taste while keeping eye contact.

“Please touch me.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he hummed.

“Please touch me again. It feels go-”

You were cut off immediately when he lazily drew a perfect circle on top of your hooded clit.

“Fuck, please, please, sir.”

Ah, he liked that. He liked the new name you’ve granted him. Mr. Miller was kind enough to resume what he was doing. His finger descended down onto your throbbing hole to gather a good amount of slick before he brought it up to aid his ventures.

“The best way to feel good is controlled pleasure. It feels better to be denied than to receive boring continual pleasure, so..” he paused his movement all together. “I’m gonna teach you a little game.”

“A little game..” you sounded like you’re about to cry from his sudden withdrawal.

“Count to ten, properly. Then I’ll reward you with more. If you fail, then we gotta start from the very beginning,” he explained. His warm breath fanning over your sensitive clit. “You think you can do that, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll start now.”

“One, two..”

You felt how he made his laps around your nub. It was much more intense than the pleasures you’ve initiated before. Compared to rutting against a pillow, grinding against a bedpost, or laying under the tub’s running water, this felt like an entire new experience. You fought to keep still, but it’s gradually getting harder when his finger starts prodding against your tight little hole.

“Three, four. Please, Mr. Miller. Oh god,” you whimpered by accident. He didn’t like that one bit by the look he gave you. There weren’t rules and promises to this, no dynamic the two of you have agreed on, but you couldn’t help but be terrified of his disapproval. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir.”

“From the start,” he ordered.

“One, two, three..”

You could barely remember the numbers in your head despite encountering them almost every day of the week. You’re a smart girl, knows your ways around things, but being touched by Mr. Miller makes you go all dumb.

“Four, five, six..”

Your thighs began to twitch and spasm. You catched the way he pulled back the hood to your clit to get a more direct touch. It was working wonders as the sensation now is a lot more electrifying. Arousal dribbled down your twitching hole and onto the crack of your rear, wetting the sheets beneath you with the sticky clear substance.

“Seven, eight, n- nine!”

You jutted your hips out when his fingers brushed over your clit once more, the sensitive bundle of nerves extra aware of his presence, and he managed to hold you back once more. He’s forgiving. You knew he’d punish his co-stars if they couldn’t stay still like you, but he let this one slide. He continued rubbing slow, tight circles only to alter into an eight shape.

“Ten.”

The ultimatum. It has arrived, your key to heaven.

“Smart girl,” he cooed, never actually stopping. “This little hole of yours looks neglected, hm?”

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease.”

“Touch your clit slowly like I taught you,” he ordered. “You can do that can you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, distraught and ruined. With his sweet permission, you pulled one arm out from your back and rested it right above your clit. Slow and steady. Just like how he ordered. Mr. Miller on the other hand was slicking up his pointer finger with his tongue. Fuck, that looks so god damn hot.

He had pressed his sole finger deep into your warmth with no hesitation whatsoever. The combination of his calloused finger against your walls and the golden freckles inside his narrowed irises had you reaching out for his forearm. Your nails came in contact with his skin as you dug upon it, crescent shapes formed in pinkish shades atop his skin. You had to sit up as the only way you’re getting through this is by leaning on his sturdy arm.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Filthy girls like you love to get their holes filled?”

What you didn’t expect was having him press a second finger in. His one finger was thicker than what you’re used to, but two fingers? That makes you an overachiever for sure. You looked up to meet his eyes frantically. You knew he wouldn’t be kind enough to withdraw the action when his mind is already set on it, but it was worth the try. He cocked his head arrogantly as he pursued his plans. Mr. Miller’s middle finger was a tight fit. Barely able to slip past the ring of muscles. Though when he did manage to get himself in, a loud moan escaped your lips.

“Mr. Miller. I can’t- I’ve never- never taken two fingers!”

“I know you can do it, sweetheart,” his free hand went over to run over your sweaty hair, admiring every inch of you. “You wanna please that boy, don’t you? Little Simon?”

He was skillful with his fingers, perhaps from his job requirements. Although it’s still incredible how he managed to have you squirming, yelling how you’re about to cum in a matter of seconds. All he did was switch between pumping the two in you, creating the filthiest sounds, and reaching upwards to hit that certain spot of yours. You rubbed your clit with much concentration as you followed after his thrusts.

“Mr- oh.. Mr. Miller! I’m gonna cum, sir.”

“You’re gonna do that for me?” he grinned, pushing his fingers into you as deep as they could go. He maintained a steady pace, emphasizing pressure on that spongy spot up top that you’ve never managed to reach with your stubby fingers. “Pretty girl gonna cum from my fingers?”

“Yes, yes.. sir. Please.”

“Cum for me, darlin’” he whispered. “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh god, you're in a lot of trouble.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

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highhhfiveee · 7 months

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mint (mike schmidt x reader)

*minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is*

tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff

oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike!

i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max).

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert.

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world.

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face.

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please."

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more."

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's.

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike.

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly.

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs.

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave.

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something.

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret.

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously?

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey."

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet."

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet.

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off.

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car.

you didn't know how long you could go on like this.

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader)

all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #fnaf fic

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xsleepinggoodx · 9 days

Note

I saw you did an ideal type of girl for Mikey. Can I have the same requests for Baji and Shinichiro, please? 🥺🫶

Dark-haired guys got me on a chokehold it is not funny anymore 🥲

YES TY SM FOR REQUESTING

That’s so real, literally any Tokyo revengers character solos every anime boy there is like I’m not even joking😭( the whole Sano family got me kicking my feet like even the grandfather. I saw a fanart on when was young and I was dang😍)

But here you go love!

—————————————————————————

SHNICHIRO SANO

- everyone and their mother knows that poor Shinichiro was rejected 20 times. But they say the one finds you when you stop looking for them, and that’s what happened to Shinichiro when he found you. He gave up at that point, firmly believing that no one would love him and he’d die single. That is until a certain, girly walked in his bike shop, asking for a decent, good bike that’s fast. His heart beat up at the sight of you, you just looked so alluring and attractive. He was in a love daze as you were talking, explaining what bike you wanted.

- I think Shinichiro needs someone who is sweet and kind, and able to understand easily. As we see in the manga, he loses his patience and can be harsh when he’s in anger. He needs someone who is compassionate and willing to take any heat from him.

- of course he will try his hardest not to lash out on you when he’s angry. He’d be so sweet to you and lash out on someone else. But even that’s no good to you, like Mikey, he needs a moral compass. Someone who will teach him right from wrong.

- it’s very hard to grow up without a father figure and having to take the lead of raising 2 kids along with another raging teen, Shinichiro is an overwhelmingly stressed and needs your tender love to soothe him, you alone soothes him. The very thought of you staying by his side is comforting him in ways you don’t even know.

- He has the big brother personality engraved in him so he’s very protective of you. Headcanons include him always having his hand on you lower back, or him holding your hand, walks behind you all the time, shielding his arm around your shoulder. When you’re sitting down on a bench, he has his arm around the bench behind you with his legs crossed talking to you so close. (When men do this I always get butterflies😛)

- As in looks, he doesn’t really care what you look like either, though I imagine him as someone who prefers a girl with long hair like Kuroo does😭 he thinks long hair girls look like princesses. If you had bangs too, he’d be all over you. Kissing you as much as you let him.

-he has been through so much, just make sure to stay by his side and you’ll be his number one. He’s planning to marry you when he has everything figured out <3

—————————————————————————

BAJI KEISUKE

- Baji was voted number 1 in best lover of Tr♥️ you already know 😍😍

- Baji is fierce, hot headed and outspoken. He appears to have a strong, intimidating demeanor but under all of that, he’s respectful and loving. He treats you so well and so nicely it keeps you up at night smiling.

- he needs someone who’s a almost the opposite of him. He was always smitten by the nice, soft girls when he grew up so he needs someone who is loving and loyal. Who stays by his side even when you don’t understand his reasonings. Someone who would do crazy stuff with him like burn abandoned cars. Someone who isn’t a kill joy with these things.

- he’d adore you if you found simple things like going to a gas station late at night more just riding his bike together with you at night exciting. His eyes would be glued to your face the whole night. Noting what excites you and what makes you happy so he could do it more often. He loves seeing you happy and enjoying every moment.

- Shares everything with you. He might’ve been an only child, but his mom taught him good things that make him a gentleman. He would share his food, earphone, anything you ask.

- he needs someone who is selfless. Someone who puts others feeling before theirs.

- for looks, he doesn’t care, as long as you’re healthy, he’s satisfied💕

—————————————————————————

Ty again so much for requesting <3

Please request more of these! I find them fun!

#tokyo revengers x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano #baji keisuke #baji keisuke x reader

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another-lost-mc · 8 months

Note

Omg hear me out

OlderStepBrother!Levi x YoungerStepSister reader

He's so protective over you, after all, nobody's good enough for his little sister except for him<3

a/n: oh, he'd be so creepy.

➤ older step-brother!levi | headcanons

1.4k words | nsfw | gn!reader | dark content

cw: step!cest. reader is late teens/early 20s and levi is mid-late 20s. modern au; implied cyber-stalking/surveillance; cursing; ambiguous ending.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who's completely uninterested in getting to know you. So what if your parents got hitched? It's not any of his business. He hasn't even met you yet, but the more he hears about you, the more annoyed he is for reasons he doesn’t understand. He doesn't care about what university you're going to, or what your grades are, or that you like "the same cartoons and games" he does. He's not going out of his way just to meet you. It's not even worth his time to look you up online. He couldn't care less.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who you only know vague details about before you meet him for the first time. You don't understand what he does exactly, only that he's good with computers and works freelance and somehow affords his own house in an expensive neighbourhood a few hours away. He might be older than you, but not that much older. Your stomach does somersaults when you think about meeting him because he's new and unfamiliar. Still, you’re cautiously optimistic that maybe if you get along, you can be friends.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who finally meets you when you go home for the first reading week of the semester. He ran out of excuses to avoid attending a pointless family gathering, and he's just desperate to get his old man off his back about being a recluse. He has his game plan ready: after playing nice for a couple of days, he'll go back home and pretend you don't exist.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who slowly realizes that maybe you have more in common than he realized. You're not some airhead or annoying social butterfly soaking in the riches of his father's fortune. You mumble your name and glance at him shyly from under your lashes and shuffle on the balls of your feet like you're too nervous to stand still. Levi feels self-conscious too because you point out the anime figure keychain dangling from his car keys and the cute vinyl stickers he decorated his car with. He assumes you're going to tease him, but you chatter on excitedly about how they're some of your favourite characters too. He hesitantly takes the second controller when you invite him to play games in your room, and you're mediocre at best. (It's still endearing when you cheer not because you won the race, but because you avoided driving off the rainbow track.) You might not be hardcore like him, but there's something almost cute about your enthusiasm. Why is your awkward laughter so contagious?

"Why did you choose this room?" he asked between races. Your bedroom isn't tiny by any means, but he knows his old room has nearly twice the amount of space. "I figured you would've cleared out my room, it's a lot bigger." You scratched the back of your neck and shrugged, eyes focused on the TV to avoid his scrutiny. "It didn't feel right going into your room and clearing out the rest of your belongings like that. It's still yours, even if you don't live here anymore." You tapped the gamepad and waited for him to select his character for the next match. "Want to keep playing?" He snapped his head away from your face and looked at the screen, choosing a character at random while he resisted the urge to cover his face in embarrassment. His cheeks burned hot. "Y-yeah, sure we can," he muttered nervously, cringing when his voice cracked.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who finds himself wanting to spend more and more time with you. His plan to leave after a day or two at most is officially scrapped. How can he leave so soon when you still have ten episodes of the latest season to watch together? There's a bowl of popcorn on the couch between you and when it's empty, he jingles his keys and drives you both to a late-night boba tea shop. The old folks are in bed for the night—they won't even notice you're gone.

"C'mon, you haven't finished watching it yet? But the last season is the best one!" You rub your arm awkwardly in the passenger seat beside him. "I started watching it with my ex but we—well, we broke up on bad terms and I guess it reminds me of them when I try to watch it now." You miss the curious glance when you stare out the window and you don’t elaborate further. He can only imagine the worst even though it doesn’t make sense—you're cute and sweet and who the hell would be stupid enough to ruin something so good? Your shoulders shake and you breathe out a stuttered sigh, and something venomous hardens his expression into something cold, like steel. He’s tempted to ask for your ex's name but decides not to—he suspects it’ll be easy enough to find once he gets back on his computer. He clears his throat to break the awkward silence. "Well, if you wanna try watching it again, maybe we can re-watch the whole series together?" It only takes a second for the hand resting on the gear shift to squeeze your knee gently and return to where it was. He stares at the dark road ahead even though he knows you're looking at him now. "Don't let ungrateful assholes ruin good things for you. You’ve got me now, okay?”

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who is determined to keep in touch when that short week together comes to an end. He already has blank social media accounts he uses to follow his favourite game developers and anime blogs, but now he has a new reason to use them. Once you realize it's him, you accept all his friend requests without hesitation. He even creates accounts for apps he doesn't even use so that he can see all the photos and videos you upload to your private account. He scrutinizes all your old posts and takes screenshots of the photos of you that turn him on he likes most. You don't post a lot of selfies, but he sees glimpses of your daily life: the café near campus you like, your room in the house you rent with some other classmates. Sometimes you post things that remind you of him now too, and even though you don't mention him by name or tag him, he knows who you're thinking about.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who is surprisingly thoughtful. Sometimes he comments on your social media posts directly, but most of the time he texts you instead. You have disjointed conversations throughout the day and it becomes habit for both of you. He asks how school is going and how your roommates are treating you. You ask him about his job because you're still not sure what a freelance cybersecurity expert does. He gets flustered when you ask him if he's dating anyone and you don't bring up the subject again. Maybe he's just shy?

Player Two: ugh.

LEV14TH4N: what's wrong?

Player Two: are you sure i'm not bothering you? you must be so busy with work...

LEV14TH4N: pfft. you're not bothering me at all. i'd rather talk to you than these idiots i have to work with.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who claims he has more money than he knows what to do with when he starts sending you little gifts. He asks for a link to your online wish list and has everything delivered express: the latest manga volume he knows you're excited to read; a pre-order for a game that's coming out soon; your favourite snacks. He also sends you an expensive housecoat when you mention off-handedly that yours is getting a little threadbare and you need to buy a new one soon. It's from a high-end boutique you've never heard of but sounds expensive. The robe is made from the softest plush material and it's so warm; it's a bluey-purple colour that reminds you a bit of his eyes. All he asks for in return is a picture once you've tried it on—to make sure that it's the right size, of course.

LEV14TH4N: you look

LEV14TH4N: sorry. it looks nice on you. i'm glad you like it.

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who never seems to sleep. He offers to skim your assignments just before the midnight submission deadline. Later, he reminds you that it's no trouble at all—he was still awake so no need to feel bad! Sometimes when you can't sleep, you scroll through your social media feed and hope the boredom will cure your insomnia, until a familiar name pops up on your screen.

LEV14TH4N: you have class in a few hours, can't sleep?

(He jokes that he just had a feeling you were still up, and you're too sleepy and flattered by his concern to question him further.)

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who makes plans on weekends to come see you at school when he thinks you could use a break. He makes the drive to town—a couple hours away from where he lives—and you spend the day at the mall, or visiting your favourite lunch or dinner spots. You invite him inside to meet your roommates and he looks around your room curiously. You seem happy here, and he's glad.

(You seem happiest with him, and that makes him feel even better.)

Older Step-Brother!Levi, who can't wait to see you on your next school break.

LEV14TH4N: the old folks are going on vacation this winter.

LEV14TH4N: but you can stay here if you want. there's lots of room and it beats spending the holidays stuck on campus by yourself.

Player Two: really? you don't mind?

LEV14TH4N: of course not.

LEV14TH4N: i'm looking forward to it.

#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me leviathan x reader #leviathan x reader #obey me x reader #obey me au #x reader #gn!reader #cw stepcest #tw stepcest

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gasolinerainbowpuddles · 3 months

Text

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟘 ✧₊

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

day 20: Uniform, Titjob, Thighfucking

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫

| PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x virgin!fem!reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 828 | CONTENT: inexperienced virgin, Joel makes you wait, thigh fucking, allusion to public sex acts, implied girthy age gap | SYNOPSIS: Joel vows to make good on his promise to be your first, but a thigh fucking will have to do for now.

He’d promised you’d do it soon. He’d promised he was still interested and was just taking the time it deserved — doing this right. That he just wanted to make sure you’d be able to take him with as little difficulty as possible, only the inevitable discomfort of something new.

“Once I start, I don’t know how good I’m gonna be at stayin’ slow,” he’d warned you. Part of you wanted him to take you apart piece by piece and put you back together however he saw fit. Part of you wanted him to wreck you, to destroy you for any other man than him – he’d already done so in every other way. But mostly you knew he was right.

It was bad enough that you were well past the age of exploration and discovery and “should be” hurtling towards settling into yourself and your preferences. The “late bloomer” moniker, once a fitting and apt handle, now felt more spiteful in its imagery. You were a dying bloom on a withered vine when you met Joel Miller, and that was the first time you’d ever understood all those sort of passionate tales and hormone laden exploits of your peers and friends.

But unlike the late teen early twenty somethings that those stories boasted, Joel wasn’t in a rush to say yes to just any offer of physical intimacy. Turns out having a daughter of his own played a big factor in how he approached and treated women. It was the sort of gentlemanly respect that drove you up a wall. You finally met someone who made your insides feel like a match thrown into a powder keg, and he insisted on taking it slow.

Yes, you didn’t want to have a bad first experience and then be put off intimacy from then on. Yes, you recognized a newfound impatience when it came to his body and yours together. Yes, you wanted your first time to be special and slow and feel good and be with the right person.

But you knew he was the right person. And right now when you feel the heft of him dragging between your clamped legs, you have half a mind to just line it up yourself and push onto it, pain be damned. Your inner thighs drip with your own arousal. The saliva Joel had spit onto his hand and worked over his cock wasn’t necessary anymore, not when you were so worked up and wet for him.

He glided with ease and groaned in unison with you every time the lip of his head stuttered across your clit. It felt amazing, but you wanted more. Always wanted more. You’d take what he’d give, though, for now. Knowing one day he’ll give more than what you could manage but talk you through it.

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises,” he grunts next to your ear.

You weren’t aware you were making noises – not loudly, anyway. That was sort of an unspoken part of this deal. Something to be kept quiet, between the two of you, until you were sure. You’d told him a million times you were sure, but it was like he was waiting for you to wake up and realize you could have literally anyone else but an old, washed up man like him. You didn’t see him as anything of the sort, and you had never felt anything like this for anyone else.

“C-Can’t help it,” you whine. “You feel so–oh!– so good.”

“Think one’uh these days—” his breath hitches and stalls as he picks up his pace between your thighs “—real soon I’ll give it to ya.”

You moan an exhale, elation and victory at some firmer sort of promise as to when he’ll finally fill you up and make you his. “I’m ready. I– I can t-take it.”

“Lemme make you come like this, honey. Lemme see what you’ll look like fallin’ apart on my cock.”

Your wrists dig into the brick siding where you’ve braced your body. His length rubbed back and forth, the quickening pace giving you a clear imagining of what his cockhead would feel like punching into your cervix. Your body clenches up, your legs slamming together even tighter as you bite back the sounds of your climax.

“Oohh fuck, there she is. Yeah, goddamn—”

A heaved groan. His arms slipping around your middle to hold you close as he stills and releases against the brick. You watch it drip down, thick and slow, and think of what it will feel like to be full of him, left dripping for the rest of the day when he spills inside you after wrecking you.

His breathing levels behind you, and a soft chuckle earns one of your own. “Think next time around we should just take it to my bed, huh?”

You nod in urgent agreement. You’d already waited so long for him. What was one more “next time” in the grand scheme of things?

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 10 months

Note

Hiiii! I've been scrolling on your account for the past hour and haven't found what I was looking for, so here I am. I've been wanting to read a Sterek fic where Stiles just takes a gun and shoots straight or whatever and when everybody is like wth he just says: what? My dad's a cop! Just, super badass Stiles. Pleaaaase

Let's see.

Bang Bang Baby by rlnerdgirl

(1/1 I 5,388 I Explicit I Sterek)

When Stiles said he was going to Los Angeles for a week for “PD,” Derek is pretty sure it’s the flimsiest excuse for a solo-vacation, and he feels bad having to call him back early. But there’s something in Beacon hills, something more dangerous than they’ve dealt with in a long time. Turns out, Stiles did go to professional development, to help him deal with shit in Beacon Hills, and when Derek gets a look at what he’s been doing, he’s more than a little conflicted.

Derek manages to blink, tearing his eyes from the gun and bringing his attention to Stiles’ face. “That isn’t a gun.” His voice is rough, mouth still parched.

The smile that pulls at Stiles’ lips makes him frown. “No,” Stiles agrees. “That’s a Barrett M82A1 sniper rifle, which, according to my instructors, I am a natural at firing, so much so that I have been suggested, many times over the past week, to enter some kind of,” the hand on the back of Derek’s neck stops stroking as Stiles’ wrist moves, hand making a gesture of some kind, “competition for, because apparently shooting competitions are things that exist. I mean, I guess I knew that. I just didn’t realize shooting this would be a competition.”

I'm the ghost of my mistakes by GreyHaven

(20/20 I 29,696 I Explicit I Sterek)

Stiles hasn't been known as Stiles for the past six years. He's Mitch Rapp, a CIA assassin with 117 kills under his belt. When he gets a late night call from Scott, saying Derek has been taken, he's on the road back to Beacon Hills in less than ten minutes. He's going to get Derek back, even if that means adding a few more kills to his ledger.

Hear The Wheels As They Roll by crossroadswrite

(2/2 I 44,919 I Teen I Sterek)

“You can’t be here. This is private property,” someone calls out and for some reason that voice sounds painfully familiar.

When it hits him why, Stiles almost chokes with the realization, “Derek Hale,” he says, unbelievably happy because he remembers Derek when they were young.

Derek looks grumpier, sadder, angrier. Stiles can’t really fault him for that. He also looks surprised that Stiles knows who he is. He squint/glares suspiciously at him, his nostrils flare for a second before he widens his eyes almost dramatically.

“Stiles,” he says quietly, like he can’t really believe it.

Stiles beams, “Yeah, you remember me!”

AND

@lovesouthernsweettea suggested this series!

The Sum of It's Parts by KouriArashi

AND

@merchymynydd suggested this one!

So Take a Long Shot by relenafanel

(1/1 I 2,650 I Teen i Sterek)

Stiles is ten when his father teaches him how to shoot. He sucks with a handgun, more likely to shoot off his own foot than the target.

The same cannot be said for his skill with a long-range rifle (but he's no one's weapon).

Eventually, Stiles knows, the secret will come out, because there are just some people he will save at all costs.

(That day comes when they're hunting a redcap through the forest and can't reach Derek in time)

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #bamf!stiles #anon #submission

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satrs · 1 year

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i just read the cliche post and like- DAMNNNNNN

But now isagi's part got me thinking what if, milf reader??? VEKFBKSNS please i just wanna be this hot ass mom who has teens drooling on her, i dONT HAVE ANY SCENARIO IN MIND BUT PLEASEE i am begging fr

AHHHH OMG YOUR MIND!!! VSKDKXKX THANK YOU FOR THIS!!!

ＭＩＬＦ!?

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; ɢᴜʏꜱ ᴡʜᴏ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪʟꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Isagi Yoichi. Itoshi Sae. Shidou Ryusei. Nagi Seishiro. Otoya Eita.

Tags; Age gap(they're in their early 20's, reader in her late 30's). mention of kids. breeding kink. creampie. nicknames(good boy, ma', mommy, baby). some subby guyss

ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ 18+!!! // ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰʀᴇᴀᴅ

ISAGI YOICHI.

I just knowww he's a sucker for hot MILFs ♡

He loves everything about them! He loves how they are so mature and how they're so experienced in sex life!

And you are no exception. He was always looking forward to seeing you, feeling the urge to take care of you after you had another stressful day with work and your kids :(

You jumped up and down, rocking your hips at a tantalizing speed, leaving him comepletely pussydrunk.

"Yes baby fuckkk, use me." Your aching heat clenched at his words. He was the best. Letting you use him as you pleased, getting rid of

all the stress you had throughout the day.

He threw is head back, adams apple throbbing as your rythm increased, his hands flying to take a hold of your asscheeks. "Yesyesyes, fuck!", he groaned, to lost over the feeling of you around him, subconsiously thursting his hips up into yours, causing you to moan out his name.

No man was ever able to please you like this young man did, always tending to all your needs.

ITOSHI SAE.

Hear me out. I think he would really enjoy himself a nice milf.

It’s just something about you that makes his cock stir in his pants, probably the fact that you were so ridiculously beautiful, aging like fine wine.

He loves and worshippes every single part of your body, from your pregnancy strechmarks to your amazing thighs. And he never failed to let you know how beautiful you were.

"God.", you sighed out, hand threading into his red locs. "Don't stop Sae, oh shit!" You moans caused the man to groan into your aching heat, hands firmly griping your thighs, holding you in place, wide open for his mouth to devour.

Your legs started to lock around his head, almost robbing his breath. But he didn't mind. Hell, he would die a happy man if he were to die being suffocated by your elegant thighs.

It barely took you one more flick of his tongue to succumb to him, legs shaking at the hard impact of your orgasm. He lapped up your juices, overstimulating you in the process.

"Fuck, I could do this all day."

SHIDOU RYUSEI.

He is literally obsessed with MILFs idc.

Would do ANYTHING for a gorgeous woman like yourself.

Suck your sore titties? Done. Feed your baby because you’re so exhausted? Already finished. Fucking your brains out while your child is at daycare? Oh, he loves that.

He always tells you how he would love to have kids with you himself, knowing they would be beautiful given to your genetics.

„Yeah? You like that ma‘? I know you do.“

Whines and whimpers escaped your plumb lips, his cock drilling in and out of you from behind at an rapid pace.

„Yes Ryusei! I love it, love it!“ you slurred put incoherent words of praise into the pillow, causing the mans chest to swell with pride.

„I‘ll fill you up so good, make you a mommy again. Whatcha say?“

You whined at that, back arching even further and the image of him filling you to the brim with his juice heavy in your mind.

Maybe another child would be nice, right?

NAGI SEISHIRO.

Loves them bc he is so lazy urgh

You just take such great care of him, not letting him lift a finger and you never complain about him ever.

And to top it all of, you were so incredibly sexy, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

He just feels like being in heaven when he rings at your doorbell late at night when your kid is asleep, begging you to take care of him :(

„You’re such a good boy you know that right, Sei'?“ you questioned while your slim fingers stroked his throbbing cock.

„Mhmm, yes mommy. Such a good boy for you. Only you“ he whined, dangerously close to his orgasm.

„Well then“, you began, pace of your hand increasing, stimulating his sensitive tip with your tumb, „prove it to me and cum, babyboy.“

He was a slave to you and your words, immediately cumming all over your hand and his pelvis.

Whispers of thanks spilled from his lips, „Thank you so much mommy.“

OTOYA EITA.

MILF hunter🤷🏽‍♀️

Being a single mom is not for the weak, causing you to sometimes be more dominant with the people around you.

He just loves when you put him into him place, calming him down from his prideful behavior

Acting like a careless and heartbreaking playboy? Nah, not around your watch.

"So good, you feel so good", eita commented, dick silding in and out of your squeezed together thighs. "Mhm? think you deserve to be inside of me?", you inquired in a teasing manner, smirk adoring your lips at his ragged breathing.

He didn't say anything, already knowing the answer. "That's what I thought. Next time, you better not act out of line again, hm?"

Even though he was on top of you, you were the one in control. Always.

He nodded, completely falling under our spell, enjoying the feeling of your plush thighs around his aroused length.

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ #♡˳ᴮᴸᴸᴷ #lec writes!۵ #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk fanfic #blue lock x you #isagi yoichi #isagi smut #itoshi sae #itoshi sae smut #shidou x you #shidou smut #otoya eita #otoya eita smut #shidou ryuusei smut #bllk otoya

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creedslove · 10 months

Text

MEANT TO BE ❤️‍🔥

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You and Joel seemed you were meant to be, but he broke your heart thinking he was doing you a favor. You're back in town and Tommy ends up inviting you to his brother's birthday party

(I don't know if this will be a series or not, but enjoy it ❤️)

Warnings: screwed up timeline (no outbreak but the story takes place nowadays, Joel's in his mid/late forties, Sarah is in her late teens/early twenties), age gap (reader is in her mid/late 20s because well, she's me), angst, hurt, breakups, broken hearts, two idiots in love, fluff

A/N: I don't know besties, this is just a very specific scenario that got stuck with me for DAYS because all I do is daydream I'm Joel's housewife and well, I had to write it down eventually because just imagining it wasn't enough I had to share. Also, this is extremely self-inserted so I'm sorry if you guys don't like it but I deserve to be happy with Joel 😭

3.2k words

"So, you're breaking up with me Joel? Is that it?" You asked him, pacing the living room, trying to hold back your tears and not let the anxiety get the best of you just yet, and instead, look at the situation with a rational attitude. Joel couldn't possibly be breaking up with you, not after the time you spent together, - a short one, you had to admit, but it was enough to see you two were meant to be together. Everyone seemed to agree. His brother was nothing but nice and sweet to you, sometimes even protective of you, as if you were his sibling and not Joel, his daughter was thrilled to see her dad in a relationship after a lifetime of loneliness, even if you didn't see each other very often, only when Sarah was home from her school breaks, always making Joel the proudest dad to see her impeccable grades, a clear reflection of the scholarship she got, she was always so friendly, treating well the woman his dad loved, because she knew he deserved to be happy.

And your family? They really liked Joel too. Your parents admired him for being so hardworking and successful in his business, the way he managed to raise a daughter by himself and your grandmother simply loved Joel. She was a supporter of your relationship from the beginning, always telling you to ignore any mean comments you might get just because he was older than you or anything like that, she just loved to see how good Joel was to you, how happy he made you and what a gentleman he was whenever he visited your family, despite being nervous and blushing slightly like a young boy. And for that, your grandma always baked him cookies or cakes, just a small, sweet way to thank him for being so good to you.

So it came as a shock, when he broke up with you.

"Yes, Y/N I'm breaking up with you" he said simply and looked down, his heart clenched and he felt so upset to be letting you go, but he knew he had to, you had been offered a great job, a great opportunity, high salary and you couldn't just stay with him, living a small town housewife life, you had so much potential, you were so pretty and full of life, Joel didn't want to trap you there, you deserved better than that, you deserved to be successful and free, and not with an old guy like him, Joel didn't have the same education you did and he felt bad about it, he would never want to embarrass you because of it.

"You and I are never gonna work, we had our fun, it was nice, but you want to live your life and I've already loved through all that. I've been married and I'm not marrying you, Y/N. You want kids and I don't want any more kids, we're incompatible, can't you see that?" He said "just take your job and go live your life, think of us as an adventure and nothing else…"

You swallowed and took one step forward, grabbing his shirt and making him look at you "w-was I just an adventure to you?" You needed to know the truth, it didn't feel like just an adventure to you at least, it felt like true love, intense and real. You thought Joel was the real deal, you thought that maybe you found each other and you would stay together, of course the opportunity you received was good, but you were ready to give it all up. You'd never thought of your life together as something bad, you liked the simple, you liked the calm quiet evenings with Joel, you liked waiting for him with dinner ready after a long day of work, and all that because you loved Joel and up until then you assumed he loved you too. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his hand running through his hair as he sighed

"Yes, you were an adventure, you were a hot young girl giving me your attention and your body, I enjoyed it a lot at first, but now it's just getting old" he sighed, hating himself for breaking your heart, but he also knew that was the only way you would leave him behind and start living your life. He was lying, he would marry you, he had actually already bought a ring, a very simple one though, he wished he could buy you something better, but he had gone with the cheapest option and now he felt ashamed of it.

"Just… don't make this too hard on the two of us, leave and take the job, you will be happier that way" Joel turned his back at you and waited until he heard you slamming the door. He sighed and tried blinking back his tears, he hated to seem weak and vulnerable around whoever it was.

•••

Eight months had passed ever since you broke up with Joel, or rather Joel broke up with you. Eight months you'd left Austin behind and moved to a bigger city, got into a better-paid job and made more money. Eight months you were earning well but you were feeling miserable, because you were away from your family, your friends and the man you loved, even if he didn't love you back, even if you were nothing but an adventure to him, you still missed him everyday.

It wasn't just the sex - although that party took a heavy toll on you, as it was so intense, good and hot. You had never been fucked properly until Joel Miller fucked you, that was for sure. But you missed the everyday with him. The domesticity with him, the evenings spent together, the lazy weekends you would stay in his bed, just cuddling, sleeping, fucking and doing it all over again. You missed how his big, rough hands would hold you at night, how you would snuggle closer looking for his warmth, or how you'd play with his hair as Joel rested his head on your lap whenever he watched some cheesy action movie.

Yes, the money was good, you couldn't deny it was good being able to pay for your expenses and also save money and also spoil yourself to clothes, shoes, restaurants and anything else really, that part was great, but you would be lying if you said you wouldn't trade that for a happy life with Joel in a heartbeat; you hated to be still in love with him, he didn't deserve your love, you knew that. He had treated you just like an adventure, like an ordinary affair he could enjoy as he pleased and then discard you once he got tired of it. Still, it puzzled you how genuine he seemed, how caring and lovely he was towards you, how he actually made you believe he loved you. You felt cheated, tricked, and embarrassed to think you were so easy to fool like Joel had done to you.

One of the perks of your job, was able to take a few short trips to your hometown every couple of months, it was good to revisit your family, especially after your grandmother fell ill and you felt the need to see her as much as you could, but with those trips back to town always brought your fear of encountering Joel.

You didn't know how you'd react to seeing him again, maybe you would feel emotional? Or sad? Would your heart still beat fast? Probably a mix of those all.

You shook your head wanting to push those thoughts aside and got ready to enter the clothes store downtown when you heard someone calling your name. You knew that voice, but thought maybe you were just confused, but still, you turned around and saw as a smiley Tommy Miller walked towards you

"Y/N hey… you look great! Nice seeing you?" He was definitely the friendly brother.

"Hey Tommy, I missed you. How've you been?"

"Good.." he placed his hand on his hips - very similar to his brother - and the two of you made some small talk, catching up on things as you hadn't seen each other in nearly a year. "So listen… it's Joel's birthday today, I don't know if you remember" you nodded with a sad smile "and well, I'm throwing him a party tonight, maybe you should show up, I know he was a dick to you, but I'm sure he didn't mean it, he misses you a lot" you bit your lips and shrugged softly, and Tommy didn't need to say anything else. He just hugged you goodbye and told you again how nice it was to see you.

•••

"You did what?" Joel asked with annoyance and shock as his brother stood in his kitchen, a bottle of beer in hand as he placed the plastic bag with a few things for Joel's party that night. Tommy blew the air out of his mouth and scratched the back of his neck "what? You like her, I mean, no, you love her, Joel, so I thought you'd appreciate it if she showed up, it would be like a nice present to you after all" he shrugged simply as it made perfect sense in his mind. Joel, on the other hand, couldn't believe how stupid his brother was. How could he simply invite you as if nothing had gone on between the two of you.

"First you simply plan a party without even asking me, inviting a bunch of people I don't even know-"

"Because you have no friends…" Tommy interrupted and it made Joel's blood boil, he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath

"What I am saying is that I didn't want a party and now I will have to face a party I didn't want and possibly with the presence of a girl whose heart I broke and-"

"You broke her heart because you are a moron" Tommy shrugged again and folded his arms "you are a real big fat moron who can't see shit even if it's hanging in front of you! You love her and she loves you, and don't give me that pathetic talk about you not wanting to trap her because I know you bought her a fucking ring, Joel! A ring! And if you had proposed she'd be here, either planning the things for your wedding or you'd be already married, and don't start with the shitty baby talk either because you practically drool when you see her holding a kid, I'm sure if she asked you'd be on your second Miller kid right now!" Tommy told his brother, running out of patience at how stubborn his older brother was "so yeah, I invited Y/N and I doubt she'll come because you are a dick and you don't deserve her attention, in fact you don't even deserve this party, I was just trying to do something nice for you, so I'm sorry I'm such a terrible brother" Tommy groaned and went upstairs.

Joel didn't want to admit it, but he did spend the whole day checking his phone every five minutes to see if he'd get any messages from you. Joel was a man to receive and give phone calls, he didn't like texting, but most people insisted on doing that so he had to surrender, even his daughter would rather text than call, which Joel hated but he had to do it eventually. On your birthday, Joel spent the whole day battling if he should text you or not, on one hand he didn't want to simply pretend he had forgotten about your special day; on the other hand he didn't want to make things weird between the two of you, well, more like, more weird. What was he supposed to say?

"Hey babe, happy birthday 🎈 I know I said you were just an adventure but I miss you"

No, that'd be too awkward, so eventually he went to bed that day and ended up not texting you.

Another thing Joel didn't also want to admit was how he had showered, applied some cologne and put on the flannel shirt you always told him looked good in him before the party started. Fortunately, his argument with Tommy didn't change any of his plans and in the evening people started to arrive. Joel smiled politely, made some small talk, thanked people for the gifts but he kept glancing at the door frequently, always in hopes to see you walking in. He felt so stupid for even expecting that, so he tried focusing on his party. He saw the girls his brother had invited but didn't care about any of them; they all chatted and giggled and Joel watched it from afar as if he were an outsider at his own birthday party. Joel grabbed a beer and walked outside, sitting by the front steps and watched as the hours passed by and people eventually began leaving the party. He just enjoyed his own presence, knowing you wouldn't come, clearly you'd never come again and he had to face that, at the same time he silently thought of what his life had been like and what was left for him to do in the future, when a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Joel?" You called him, hesitantly at first, as you swallowed and looked around, it was kind of crazy to show up at your ex's birthday party after he dumped you in a cruel way like he did, but you also felt like you had to do it, ever since Tommy had invited you, something in your heart begged and screamed for you to go see Joel even if it was the last time.

When he saw you, his eyes widened, he didn't trust them at first thinking it was just a trick of his longing imagination, but as you walked towards him, he could see you were real. And you looked gorgeous, making that fool old man's heart beat fast.

"Darlin'..." He said but you placed your index finger gently against his lips, the way his beard tickled you brought a warmth within and you felt like you could melt at that moment.

"I'm here just to wish you a happy birthday" you said with a sad smile and handed him a bag. Joel frowned softly, clueless to what it was but a soft smile appeared on his face as he saw it was his watch. He had forgotten about it as it had been so long since the last time he saw it.

"Remember your watch stopped working after we jumped in the pool on the last fourth of July we spent together? I had it fixed but then we bro-" you interrupted yourself "anyway, I know it's been a while but it's yours"

"Thank you darlin' I don't even know what to say… it's already a gift you're here tonight" Joel could swear he was blushing and that embarrassed him, he was a grown man and shouldn't be acting like that, but still, there he was.

"Did you get the cake?" You questioned him curiously and only then Joel noticed you had a second bag in hands

"I forgot" he rubbed the back of his neck and you laughed softly, that was just so Joel it felt kind of stupid.

"So this is yours too…" you offered him the second to which he grabbed it even more puzzled. Two presents? Joel Miller was a simple man, and quite shy, he didn't know how to act properly when he was given gifts, let alone two in a row and especially when it came from you.

It was his turn to laugh when he found a box with cupcakes inside. He raised his eyes from them and smiled at you, taking you by the hand with no warning and sitting you next to him, on the front step.

He helped himself to one and insisted for you to take another, and even if you should have just wished him a happy birthday and driven back home, you obliged and took a small bite of yours, and that cupcake was indeed really good.

After the cupcakes were long gone, you and Joel still caught up on everything: he told you about his job and you told him about yours; you asked him about Sarah and he asked you about your grandmother's health, just random, ordinary things like it should be between two people who once knew everything about each other and now spent long enough apart to step on eggshells around each other. Though the party had pretty much ended, Tommy's playlist was still at full steam inside the house and when Joel recognized that guitar strumming he smiled, the lyrics coming back to him as it took him back to one of his favorite moments with you.

"Listen, it's our song"

"What?" You frowned softly "our song? What do you mean?" You questioned curiously not exactly knowing where he wanted to get.

"Californication, it's our song" he blushed softly and felt upset to see that maybe you didn't remember the summer night you spent listening to music sitting in the back of his truck, and how you two sang it together. Maybe that wasn't as special to you as it was to him, but at that night he'd felt so young, so full of life and hope. You finally nodded and closed your eyes, listening to it and thinking of the same sweet memory you and Joel shared.

"I just didn't know it was our song, Joel" you said amused and he shrugged, getting to his favorite part of the song and taking your hand in his, your eyes locked as his lips moved

"Marry me girl, be my fairy to the world, be my very own constellation"

He sang along, even if it wasn't a romantic song, that part was for you, it had always been for you. When he saw you sing that specific part of the song for the first time he knew he wanted to marry you, he wanted you to be his fairy to his world and be his very own constellation. It was cheesy, but he didn't care, he was just in love at the time, and he continued so.

You blushed and looked down, knowing it was time to go, but before you could get up, he squeezed your hand gently

"Do you want to get inside?" His eyes were full of hope, maybe and just maybe you could say yes and you could maybe pick up from where you left off but you shook your head "I'm sorry, I have to go Joel" you got up and ignored his sad eyes, even if they were your weakness, you two were finished and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Joel?" You called one last time and he got up, walking to you, still hopeful you'd give him any crumble of affection.

"Yeah?" His voice was a soft purr, the anticipation burning bright inside of him

"Happy birthday" you said and went to your car, leaving him standing there, his mind full of might-have-beens and his heart breaking as it did every time you walked away from him.

_____

A/N: don't yell at me besties, i've had this idea of joel being sure he would want to marry reader (me/us) while listening to this part of the song and Californication is a very delicate subject as I sang this song in a karaoke session at the mall yesterday in front of hundreds of people and I was so nervous at first but then I relaxed and had such a great time and it was amazing 😭 I know it's not a romantic song but I want those lyrics to be about joel and his beautiful wife 😭 I hope you've liked it besties ❤️

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antimony-medusa · 8 months

Text

"They're honestly so sibling-coded."

I grew up in a conservative, rural area where people got married young. It was not uncommon to see marraiges happen when the people involved were 19, 20, 21, and there was this sort of expectation that any relationship you were in in your teen years had like a 70% chance of leading to marriage. More, if you were especially religious. This attitude was so pervasive that if a woman was friends with a man, or even hung out together, there was this automatic societal assumption that you were early relationship, which led into late relationship, which led into where you were going to get married, which led into babies and a family.

And I hated it. I hated it because I was aroace and didn't know it yet, but even just as a baby feminist feeling out what it meant to be a woman and how I was perceived in the world, I hated the assumption that all my m/f relationships were only worth something if they were leading to romance and marriage (and babies). The idea that men and women couldn't be friends, because men only thought about women in a romantic/sexual way, was actively taught me by everyone from pastors to helpful older coworkers. I even got told that f/f friendships were basically killing time until you got into a romantic m/f relationship, which is where you'd find actual fullfilment and happiness. It sucked.

And then I moved away, and I got out of the conservative religious circles, and then in my 20s, people kept saying the same thing. At least it wasn't saying "god made you for relationships (and babies)," but it was still saying that y'know, men are only interested in one thing, and it's cruel to lead them on, and so on, and so forth. Half of the world is going to only think of you in terms of what you're good for in relation to their relationship status, and the other half of the world is going to tell you to suck it up and deal with it.

This is still the background radiation of much of the world, still. I am getting this less in my 20s because many of my male friends are married, (or gay), but still, as soon as I meet someone new the interested looks start to pile in. As a person who doesn't plan on getting into a romantic relationship, I do not love this.

Immediately seeing a m/f friendship and going "ooooo they're KISSING" is not respectful of the guy's ability to have friendships with people he's not having sex with, but let's look at what it messages about the girl in this scenario.

A) women are only worth talking about in terms of what they can do to for men, what they are in connection with men B) friendship is unimportant and not real, women only exist to be romance options

So I feel strongly about allowing women to be percieved as their own beings and have cross-gender friendships without turning it into romance.

This is not an uncommon take on the internet! I see a lot of people talking about allowing people to be friends without defaulting to shipping.

But I don't know how to tell you that seeing a m/f relationship and saying "Oh they're siblings", when we're talking about celebrities/streamers is still sending a lot of the same messages. The core thing you're communicating is still the same. It's falling into the same traps.

I get the sense that a lot of people see a relationship they want to sort of celebrate and enjoy, and they know that shipping is bad, so they just shunt the "oh they're special to each other" to the left into a family dynamic. I will just say they're siblings, that way nobody can accuse me of shipping, and I'm good!

But what this does is still messages a) woman are reduced down to their relationship with a man, into what they can do for the man, and b) friendship is unimportant and not real, women only exist to be non-romanceable family and the rest of them, the romance options.

If the only way you can conceive of a woman as being important to a man is either being romantic/sexual with him or by saying that they're related, that's still bad. If you literally have to put one of the strongest relationship taboos in our culture in the way or you'll just default into kissing I guess, that's still messaging some really concerning things about how you're portrating women.

And once inside the family dynamics, jesus fuck, you guys. Family dynamics have such a trend to slot women into nurturing and protective roles, where the "older sister" "is the one with the brain cell" and "will take care of him" and will be there suborned to his story to be a surrogate mother figure that takes care of him. This, frankly, sucks.

I am an older sister as a fairly important part of my identity. I love being an older sister. But the way this fandom treats older sisters as tiny non-sexual mothering machines with no interiority or autonomy is not good at all, when it comes to actively respecting women as people.

Honestly, I don't like either option, but when you look at how women get treated when sisterified in fanon (older responsible figure who will take care of our precious baby boy) and how women get treated when shipped (mothering options still exist here but also sometimes they dom him), I might prefer the shipping. And I just did a whole multi paragraph about how much the shipping sucks!

I'm not even going to get into what happens when women get actively assigned mom in a family dynamic. All the worst parts of shipping with none of the fun smut.

I am aware I am talking about the worst excesses of family dynamic here, because this fandom offers lots to choose from, and there are ways to do family dynamic in a good way. Some of the most important relationships in my life are familial, and when actually delved into, you can absolutely still portray a full and nuanced portrayal within a family dynamic. This is a possibility. But god, when I look at the fandom trends and what rises to the top of my dash, oof.

And like, there's a larger trend in this fandom where people seem to be incapable of thinking of friendships as valuable and worthy, if you see them as important to each other it must be familial, but when you do it with women, damn.

Can we give seeing women as full autonomous being who are capable of their own opinions and desires a shot? See them as more than just romance options or [illegal to romance] options? Just let them be friends? Please?

#discourse #fandom meta

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ultralightpoe · 7 months

Text

Carried Me With You - Jake Seresin

Authors Note: I am back, but as we all know I will probably disappear in another 3 days. Enjoy.

Word Count: 3,000 (UH HUH, EVEN BABY EVENNNNNN)

Warnings: Sad, a little family angst for y'all.

Description: Hello! The wonderful @fangirlvibez tagged me in this challenge back on September 9th and I saw it when I logged in today so you know I had to do it lovies. Thank you so much @fangirlvibez for tagging me, I am so sorry for the late reply but I hope you like it. And feel free to tag me for any more little challenges or prompts you had because I absolutely loved this one. <3

(Psst..... The song of this imagine is - Carried Me With You)

Enjoy! (pssst, song choice is -Carried Me With You- Listen and read for a top tier experience lovies.)

The Build A Bear employee looks extremely suspicious when Jake brings the empty coat of a bear up to her, a fake smile plastered from ear to ear as he holds it out as if he just ran into the woods to hunt it himself.

Honestly he was sure he looked like a massive freak, from the 20 minutes he spent looking at all the display bears to choose and up to now where he probably looked like he had been one of Jokers goons in Batman. But he couldn’t help it, he was doing his very best not to breakdown and cry in front of this poor teen.

She blinks up at him, back to the bear, and then back to him.

“This is the bear you’ve chosen?” That one question has him debating everything, eyes widening as he pulls it back to himself quickly.

“No. Yes. I have no clue.”

“Okay, cool.” The worker, a young girl decked out in the most goth punk outfit he had ever seen, smiles and moves to grab it from him. Her long black acrylic nails snag the poor pelt from his hands and she pulls it to the stuffing machine. “We have multiple hearts that you can choose from for your little buddy here. We have classic, plaid and then a beating heart. Go ahead and take a look.”

Jake nods, moving to grab one slowly before turning back to her. “You guys have sounds, right?”

“We do indeed.” She smiles, nodding her head to show him the sound station. “Go ahead and pick or make a sound.”

She turns back to fix one of the spikes on her boots as he does so, rushing over to start recording the sound. The little script he wrote that morning on a sticky note was hard to read but he managed it, making sure to use that southern drawl he knew his baby girl loved before coming back to the stuffing station and handing it to her.

“Alright, do we want our little buddy to be firm or plush?”

“I think…. How about firm?”

“Sounds great, and let’s go ahead and bless the heart while I’m doing this. First I’m going to have you rub your head so our buddy is smart. Perfect, now lets rub our belly so our buddy always has a good appetite. Awesome. Don’t forget to rub your knees so your furry friend always kneeds you. Jump up and down to get the heart beating and rub it against your heart so they always know how much you love them. And lastly close your eyes, make a wish and give it a kiss.”

Jake follows her word for word, going with the ceremony even though he knows it’s for kids. And when he closes his eyes he wishes ‘Keep my babies safe and happy’ before kissing the heart and handing it to her. She ties the bear up and hands him off, the teddy looking straight into Jake’s eyes as he walks off to find it a cute little outfit.

By the time he makes it to the register Jake has the bear in a little naval outfit, hat and all, and the worker is grabbing the birth certificate from the printer with narrowed eyes.

As she rings out the clothes he watches her closely, heart beating against his rib cage each step of the way. She was very goth, from the badass makeup to the spiky hair and spiky collar, not to mention the huge boots. It was like wednesday adams went punk and then got a job as Build A Bear as a joke.

Then she turned to expose the backpack holding the pink stuffed animal decked out in rainbow and he couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s her name?”

“Cannibal, but when the kids ask Cami.”

“Cami the Cannibal, I love it.”

She finishes ringing everything up, raising an eyebrow. “Bugs?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s for my darlin’. You see I call her mom ‘Bubs’ and I call her ‘Bugs’.” Jake explains, whipping out his card as she begins dressing the bear.

“This is for your daughter? How old is she turning?”

“Oh, it’s not for her birthday. I’m being deployed so this is my….. Something she has of me while I am gone.”

Her face goes slack and she blinks at him before shaking her head. “How old is your daughter?”

“Four.”

“Then I’m saying this is a birthday bear. You only have to pay how old you’re turning for the bear.”

He thanks her, and before he knows it he is buckling Bugs into the backseat and driving home to see his two girls.

Bugs sits at the top of your closet for the next 5 weeks, you both break the news to your daughter four weeks out. She begs him not to leave and you let her sleep in your bed to try and soothe her tears.

She sleeps in your bed every night after that.

2 weeks out Jake’s mother throws a going away party for him, your daughter cries the entire time.

Then the time came.

Jake woke earlier than you, desperate to let you both get a little more sleep as he shuffled into the shared closet and reached up to find the box that held bugs. Dusting the bear off and making sure he looked good before moving to set it in the living room by his deployment bags.

He kisses both your foreheads before jumping in the shower and getting dressed into his uniform. His throat is tight and his eyes burn but he does his best to keep it together, by the time he is dressed and ready to go he finds both of you sitting in the living room crying softly.

You are doing your best to stop the tears, and Jake feels something shatter in his chest at the sight before the blur of the four year old is dashing to him.

“Please don’t go.” She sobs, hands gathering the fabric of his uniform as he swipes the tears from her cheeks.

“Easy now, Bugs. I’ll be back. It’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go daddy! Tell them you can’t go!” From the corner of his eyes he sees you shuffling closer with the box, and he nods, reaching a hand out for the bear.

“Daddy needs you to do something for me, okay bugs?” The tears are falling freely now as she shoves her forehead into his chest. He has to pull her back a bit so she sees the bear. “This? This is my friend Bugs, and Bugs is very very important to me. You wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because Bugs promised to take care of you for me. And he is gonna do a great job of it. But I need you to keep Bugs with you so he can do that. Yeah?”

She shakes her head at first, sobbing loudly as he kisses at her forehead, before her hands reach out to pull the bear to her.

12 minutes later you are holding her in your arms, crying as Jake gives you both one more kiss and heads out to the truck, waving as he pulls the car out even if he feels his heart shattering in his own chest.

You keep y/d home for the day, making her mac and cheese for lunch ans trying to play all her favorite movies in an attempt to cheer her up a bit. Nothing seems to work and she sobs all day, not that you were much better.

By the time you are ready to tuck her in your eyes hurt from the amount of crying you had done and you felt drained and dehydrated. But nonetheless you hold your daughters hand as she shuffles into her room where Bugs now sat on the bed.

You dress her in one of Jakes soft shirts for pajamas, tucking her into the blanket softly and rubbing her cheek.

“Daddy always is here to say goodnight too.” She cries and you nod slowly, reaching for the bear.

“You really think he would forget?” You smile softly, pinching the bear's paw.

Jake’s southern voice rings out, a little frazzled out but there nonetheless.

“The sun is setting in the sky.

Let's light the moon and bring it high.

The shimmering stars sparkle and twinkle.

I work out my wiggles as stardust I sprinkle.

The tree stands tall as the owl hoots.

I send all my worries right down through my roots.

A moonlit lake, as I sit on the shore.

Reflects three things that I am grateful for.

With my hands on my heart, love is swirling around me.

So I send it out to my friends and family.

As I lie down I breathe one, two, three.

And feel the love come back to me.

Goodnight Bugs.”

She curls around the bear, sobbing loudly as you kiss her head. Truly not knowing how to fix this.

Three months later, you are holding her hand as she leads you through the mall, Bugs wrapped tightly in her other arm.

She had played the sound so much that it sort of stopped working and instead of the entire poem all the bear truly said now was ‘Goodnight Bugs’. But that would have to do for now.

You had done so many emergency surgeries on the bear since she refused to leave him behind. The poor thing had barely survived the kindergarten recess debacle before her teacher had to cut in and take the bear from her and the kid who had been wrestling to steal it.

She had come home that day a blubbering mess until you sewed the arm back on and she kissed it better.

She had taken Bugs to the daddy donut day her school ran, and though she still her her grandpa there that day you were eternally grateful she had that bear.

But Jake’s birthday was coming up, and you knew it would be rough on her no matter how many facetime calls he managed to sneak in. So you had asked what she wanted to do for his birthday.

Which leads you here, staring at all the bear options in front of you as she tries to figure out which one she wants..

There was a goth girl waiting at the stuffing station, and you couldn’t figure out if she was glaring or trying to recognize you.

“How about this one, bugs?” You ask, showing her the stitch before she shakes her head and snatches a brown bear.

“It’s got to look cool mom.” Another milestone that you were positive Jake was devastated about. While he was away it had gone from daddy and mommy to dad and mom. It wasn’t much of a difference but it still made your chest ache every time she called you it.

Before you know it she has snatched a bear and dashed to the sound station, not bothering to see if you would follow.

By the time you make it to the stuffing station you are doing your best not to cry, handing the girl the sound and the bear as she smiles.

“I see we have a bear, is this going to be his buddy?”

“YES!” Your daughter smiles, bouncing on her feet as you move to grab Bugs.

“How about I hold this so you can create him. Yeah?”

She reluctantly lets go, moving to pick a heart as the girl asks about the pressure.

“I want him so soft that you can squeeze all the love!” Y/d giggles and you can’t help but smile at that. The worker smiles to, her black lipstick making it all more of a victory. “I like your bear, what’s her name?”

“Cami.” The worker smiles and y/d shakes her head. “No?”

“No, how about….destroyer?”

“Oh, I like the way you think. Okay now touch the heart to your toes so your furry friend is ‘toe’tally awesome. Great job. Touch the heart to your knees so he always ‘knee’ds you. Good good. Now rub the heart between your hands so he always stays warm, don’t forget to rub your ears so he always hears you. And Now your eyes so he always sees you. Now rub your heart so he always has love and jump up and down three times to get that heart beating.”

Y/d does everything with a huge smile lathered on her face, and the worker has the same excited smile on her own.

“Now I need you to close you eyes and make a wish before you kiss the heart.”

She does as told, squeezing her eyes shut before saying ‘Make sure my dad is happy.”

And then the workers face falls into one of recognition, her eyes casting to the bear now held in your hand and back to the one she had been stuffing.

By the time you have an outfit picked out she already has the certificate in her hands, nodding.

“Bubs. I like it.”

“Thank you. It’s what my dad and mom call each other.” Your daughter smiles, standing on her tiptoes to look up to the worker.

“Let me guess, your bugs.”

“I AM!” And just like that a wide smile is splitting across her cheeks as she slides the bear across the counter to your side.

“It’s your lucky day. This bear is a part of the lonely hearts foundation. Which means so long as he is adopted into a happy and loving home he comes with no charge. Are you happy, bugs?”

“Yes.”

“Are you healthy, bugs?”

“I eat my broccoli, yeah.” You try not to snort, remembering that you had to bribe her with 6 oreos after a 2 hour dinner table stand off.

“Then Bubs has found the perfect home.” You mouth a thank you to the girl as you leave, giving your daughter bugs back so you can carry the box.

Jake Seresin was absolutely miserable the day he got his birthday package.

He was sweaty from the jets, irritated by his team. But most importantly he was completely lost without his girls.

It had been four months since he last got to hold them and he was beginning to lose it. Sure, he got to facetime them which was a lot more then some of the other guys but he missed them terribly and he wanted nothing more than to be with them.

He had gotten an extra thirty minutes of call time on his birthday a week ago, to which you had promised him you sent something out before y/d interrupted with a sassy tone “don’t ruin the surprise for dad, mom.”

He tried not to get upset at the dad part, but he couldn’t help it. He left while his bug called him daddy and stil had the chubbiest baby cheeks in town and now his little darlin’ was growing up and he couldn’t actually see it.

But you had told him to expect the package and he did, finally a week later it was mail day and he sat on his bunk surrounded by his squad as they tore through letters. He sliced the tape of the box open, lifting the lid to reveal the cutest bear dressed in a texan jersey with glasses that reminded him of BOB.

A laugh slips from his lips as he reaches to pull the bear to his chest, noting the cotton candy scent before his eyes snag on the letter.

“Dear Bubs,

This bear was sent out with a promise to keep. He promised both me and your daughter that he would keep you happy and healthy and bring you home to us. We made him knowing that only the bravest of bears could do this task and we made sure he was stocked up for the flight over. In the box he took your favorite candies. A stack of photos and a really cool beaded bracelet your daughter made at school. He was given a cotton candy scent to help block off the stuffy scent from the box but most importantly, he carries a top secret message that not even I was allowed to listen to.

We hope Bubs takes care of you until you are allowed back into our arms, until then stay safe and don’t forget we love you.

Love, Your bubs.”:

There is a little monster drawn on the paper in crayon that makes his heart swell as he traces his fingers over the words and drawing before reaching to the bear.

He lays with it as a pillow, pressing his cheek to the chest as he presses the hand to reveal the sound.

His daughter's voice fills his ears, in the cheesiest southern accent he had ever heard. “I breathe one two three and feel the love come back to me. Good night daddy.”

The next set of photos you receive in the mail are all photos of Jake and Bubs on journeys, and Y/D’s favorite was the one of the entire squad posing with bubs. Bob and the bear having switched glasses.

You, of course, begin sending adventures back. One of Bugs and your daughter baking, another of the two on a swing set.

Jake sends back a photo of Bubs ‘flying’ a plane.

Over and over you both send the photos back and forth, everything is a little bit better when you carry a piece of each other with them.

Your daughter asks you at dinner one night, between shoving her chicken in her face and avoiding the broccoli, if you had wanted a bug and bubs bear.

All you can do is smile, booping her nose as you mumble. “You were my bear last time he was deployed.”

“What did you send him?”

“A pee stick.” She doesn’t find it as funny as you did, but she makes sure to have bugs kiss your cheek goodnight before dashing to bed.

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gabessquishytum · 9 months

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more childhood puppy love than slut hob. So Hob is out playing one day when he sees a another little boy about his age at the edge of the woods. He's a lonely kid himself, so he goes over to say hi. The little boy and him share a snack and talk about books. He and the little boy, Dream, meet every now and then, and Hob is pretty sure his best friend isnt human, but he likes talking with him, so he continues to talk out with the little boy. They grow up together and one day when theyre older in their late teens, they fall in love and have their summertime teen romance. Then one day, Dream says that he has to go to the magical other world. He's clearly very scared, and he begs Hob to wait for him. Dream doesnt know how long he'll be, but he knows it will be easier if he knows Hob will be there when he gets back. Hob promasses to wait until he finds his first silver hair. Dream leaves. For the first 10 years, he's worried that Hob will go back in his promise. Mean while, Hob has every intention of waiting for Dream. He didnt think it would take this long, but he doesnt understand fey time. He gets a job and slowly moves up. Dream has reached the end of his task at 12 years, but there's still a matter of getting back, and he doesnt know when human hair turns silver. At the 20 year mark, Hob is 38 and hes begining to wonder if his childhood sweetheart was real or something he made up to feel less lonely. He's getting a coffee when he sees a very disheveled looking man across the street. He begins to think "there's no way" when Dream looks him in the eyes and says "Your hair still looks as dark as the day I left. I hope this means you are still waiting for me Hob." And Hob sweeps him up into a kiss.

This is so adorable. I'm going to add a little twist, because it inspired me.

The truth is, Hob started going grey rather earlier than he'd expected - in his early thirties, perhaps. He was horrified to see that first grey hair, because he wasn't ready to stop waiting for Dream yet. So he quickly shut his eyes, fumbled away from the mirror, and hurried his way to the nearest store selling boxed hairdye. By sunset on that day, Hob’s hair is a couple of tones darker than it used to be, and there isn't a grey hair to be found in sight.

Over the next few years he is very strict about dyeing his hair. It never gets a chance to fade out before he's putting on the plastic gloves and giving the whole thing a good going over with fresh dye. His friends tease him about his vanity and he just smiles.

He's approaching 40, and starting to feel a little insecure. Maybe Dream won't come for him. Maybe this is a mistake and he should just let the dye fade out. His hair would probably thank him for it after almost a decade. But he decides to wait just a little longer...

And just a few days later, there's Dream. Taller and skinnier but still Dream. He mentions how Hob’s hair is still so dark, and Hob just wants to laugh. He kisses Dream instead, and guides him up to the flat where he lives.

He shyly shows Dream all the boxes of hairdye in his bathroom and Dream just... melts. He clings onto Hob so tight, unable to speak. Overwhelmed that Hob would do such a thing for him.

A few months later, the grey and silver streaks at Hob’s temples proudly show through, as he even more proudly walks hand in hand with Dream. Waiting was entirely worth it.

#babyyodagirl #the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 3 months

Text

it's finally here! one month late, and a couple thousand words more than i thought it'd be! happy leap yeap!

Here's my entry for Lex's (@thefreakandthehair) Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge! I had dialogue prompt #22 "Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?”

pairing: steddie | word count: 10,446 | rated: E | on AO3: hey you really turn me on

Why in the hell did he agree to this? It’s 20 fuckin’ degrees out and he’s outside?? In the snow?? Voluntarily?

If the boys could see him now.. “Who are you and what’ve you done with Eddie?”, “Since when do you do shit outside?”, “All this for Steve fuckin’ Harrington…”.

And that’s the rub, it is because of Steve. Hopeless crush aside, Steve is the reason he’s there. Why they’re all there in the first place.

When Steve got the call, Eddie and the other older teens of their world-saving group were just hanging out; movies, beer, snacks, a little weed, music playing low…all in all, a great kick-back.

Then the phone rang.

It was relatively late too, 10 maybe?

Steve went to answer it of course, the conversation muffled through the living room and kitchen walls, but after a minute or so he came back. The long phone line stretched across the hall back to the hook in the kitchen.

“When is this again?” Steve says into the receiver, waving towards the sound system. Robin had scrambled up immediately, nearly falling back on her face to turn the volume down.

“Uh huh. And you and Dad won’t be there? Mm hmm.” he nods.

Eddie looked over to Robin first, eyebrow raised. She only shrugged, as does Nancy when he turned the look to her.

“And how many rooms?” Whatever the answer is causes Steve’s brows to shoot up. “Wow, okay, yeah we–”

Eddie was closest to him, previously starfished out on the carpet, but had sat up and leaned back on his palms when Steve returned, so he could just barely hear the sound of another voice on the other end of the line.

“Yeah of course, that’d be great, we definitely will. Thanks Mom.”

Steve had sounded actually…happy to be talking to his mom. And here Eddie thought the Harringtons were objectively the worst.

“No, they’re going to love it, Mom, I promise.” another pause, “Nope. They’ll all be on their best behavior.” Steve glances down at Eddie, “We all will be.”

He scoffs up at Steve from his spot on the floor. Rude.

Steve only waves him off with a smile, “Yeah, the usual.” he says, “Rob, Nance, Jon, Jon’s friend Argyle–yeah, he’s the one from California, and Eddie.” Steve’s eyes flash down to Eddie again and his stomach twists sharply. Aw fuck, here it comes; the scolding, the yelling, the berating about how Eddie’s no good for him to be associating with, why are you stooping to his level, he’s a murderer, yadda yadda yadda.

“Yeah, he and Wayne are doin’ much better now, I’ll have to tell you about it next time, okay?”

Uh.

What?

“Yeah, that’d be great if you don’t mind! Yep, Wheeler, Henderson, Sinclair,” He looks again at the other people in the room, they’re still just as puzzled as he is. What do the kids have to do with this? “I’ll talk to Hopper and Joyce, and I’m sure Ms. Mayfield would let Max go. Oh absolutely,”

Steve starts back into the kitchen, and Eddie can hear him all the way back to the hook. “No–Nope, it’s fine, I actually have a couple people over right now so I want to–yeah. Yep. Okay, love you too. Bye mom.”

Eddie looks around at the others; Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, even Argyle, though he’s not looking around wide-eyed at what all just occurred like the others are.

Steve comes back into the living room. “So…” he lets out a long breath, “How do you all feel about skiing?”

-x-X-x-

So yeah. Here they all are, at some ski resort up in Michigan. Boyd Mountain…or Bowie? Something with a ‘B’.

Turns out, Steve’s parents had a four-room cabin rental set aside as a perk for some deal they were trying to barter. It fell through though, and they wouldn’t be back from Colorado themselves until after the reservation would’ve expired so they offered it to Steve and whoever he’d like to invite.

They took care of everything too; got lift passes, boot and ski rentals set aside for each of them, even sent a whole ass passenger van to be dropped off in the Harrington driveway for them to make the drive; A huge 15 passenger one that even with the three extra seats, still barely held all their crap for the long weekend.

All of them piled into the van in the dark on a Friday morning, sleepy-faced and crusty-eyed; Robin as Steve’s co-pilot, and each of the rest of the older teens and the party piling in wherever they could (they’d fight about their seats when they woke up more, Eddie was sure of it).

The first rest stop on the way up went by without incident, but by time they stopped for late breakfast/early lunch at another, everyone was stir crazy. Sandwiches were passed out, gas was gotten, bathroom breaks were taken, and almost as soon as they got back in the van, Robin was snoring.

“Damnit, if I knew she was gonna tank like that I would’ve had someone else sit up here.” Steve had groused.

“I’ve gotcha big guy, I won’t let you fall asleep.” Eddie said, now seated next to Dustin and El on the first bench behind the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, me either.” Dustin agreed.

He was snoring an hour later, El leaning into him for her own nap.

“That’s cute.” Was the first thing Robin said after waking back up.

All in all, not a bad drive. The worst part was tramping through the snow to the cabin after they’d arrived.

“Goddammit Steve, How am I supposed to get through this week in only my jeans?”

Steve sighs, “Eddie, you have made the same argument ever since my mom called; and every time you did, I told you everything would be here for you.”

He finally gets the door open, shoving it wide for them all and gesturing them in, “Get comfy guys, I’m going to grab the cooler with our groceries.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Jonathan says, following Steve back out to the van.

The large open main floor has a full kitchen with a raised bar counter and four stools, tall peaked ceilings, a fireplace on one wall with two couches and a rocking chair situated around it, and a sliding glass door to a balcony off the back side of the building overlooking the trees below.

There’s stairs too, a set going up and a set going down, and at least one bathroom here on this floor, off the kitchen.

Eddie wanders into the living room, picks out some pieces of kindling from the bucket on the stone beside the fireplace and a couple logs from the stack nearby, and busies himself with starting the fire while the party pokes around the place.

He glances over his shoulder when he hears the fake leather of the couch cushions squeak together, only to see Argyle has perched himself on the backrest, squashing a cushion beneath his feet.

The fire takes less than no time at all, and once it’s going and he’s re-situated the trifold metal screen back in front of the fire, he sits down beside Argyle’s shins and is immediately entranced by the flames.

Steve and Jonathan return not long after, lugging their things with the cooler hanging between them.

“So how do y’guys want to split up the rooms?” Robin asks aloud, ignoring the yelling the other teens are already doing about the same thing.

“I’m not picky.” Eddie shrugs, standing up to stretch again, deciding he really did not want to be sitting anymore.

“Me either sister, whatever you decide is cool with me.” Argyle agrees. “What’re the rooms like?”

“There’s a master up here!” Max calls from above them, looming over the log railing at the top of the stairs with El.

“We walked right past it, but there’s a room with a queen off the front hall there,” Jonathan says, shuffling his bag against the kitchen bar.

“Hey! Assholes!” Steve yells down the steps, the boys must’ve gone down there. “Go get your shit out of the van and we’ll head over to the main lodge!”

The four thunder up the steps, how any of them can understand any other over the other is beyond him.

“Will,” Nancy calls as he rounds the stairs last, “There are bedrooms down there?”

“Yep!” he grins, “Two rooms with queen beds, and a bathroom.”

“I don’t mind taking one of the queens,” Nancy says, “Robin, wanna share with me?”

Robin starts to splutter, still somehow not convinced that Nancy’s got a thing for her. It’s obvious to him, but he and Steve have both tried to tell her this. To no avail. Even after Jonathan and her had confirmed they’d split and that he was moving back to California with Argyle come spring.

Steve rescues Robin from her spluttering. “It’s only fair that Argyle gets next dibs, since he’s the one that’s offered to cook for us.” he says, lugging the cooler over to the kitchen to unload it.

He’d insisted on picking up groceries for their stay, saying “There’s a restaurant, sure, but that’d get expensive quick and we’ll have a full kitchen so why not?”

“Appreciated my man; y’wanna bunk with me, Jonny?”

Eddie follows Steve, leaning on the bar across from the fridge from him, “So where’s all my snow gear, Stevie?” he asks the back of Steve’s head.

“Eddie, I swear to God.” Steve huffs in return, bending down into the cooler at his feet to fish out a couple of cartons of eggs.

Eddie does not watch how the denim of Steve’s jeans pulls tighter over any part of him, thank you very much.

“Mom called ahead and has everything we might need set aside in the main lodge, we’ll go there first before we hit the slopes.”

“Oh my god, did you really just say that?” Eddie asks as Steve stashes away two jars of jelly, one strawberry, one grape.

“Say what?” Bacon and some packs of lunch meat are next.

“Like, that’s an actual thing that people say? It’s not just in the movies?”

Steve sighs, finishing off the groceries with a couple 12 packs of pop stashed on the bottom shelf. “What is just like the movies?”

“‘Hit the slopes.’? Really?”

“You’re super annoying, you know that, right?” he says, closing the fridge and pushing the lid back onto their cooler.

“Awe, c’mon baby, you don’t mean that.” Eddie coos, slipping around the counter to cup Steve’s face in his hands, “What happened to the man who loves me for my antics, huh?”

“Get off me, dude,” Steve laughs, batting Eddie’s hands away, his cheeks tinged pink.

‘Yes! Success!’ When did he decide he was trying to fluster Steve? Eh, whatever. No harm, right?

“So, did you guys figure out the sleeping situation?” Steve asks the rest of the group, walking back around the bar.

Eddie follows, leaning back on the counter in his previously vacated spot.

Nancy nods, “Jon and Argyle will take the room on the main floor, us girls will take the two downstairs, you can take the master, and the boys will take the couches.”

The boys return with their bags then, and Mike immediately starts complaining about being relegated to the fold-outs. Eddie also hears Dustin and Lucas trying to talk him down, saying things like “Dude, that means we’ll be close to the fire!”, “We can throw things in it!,” and “We can make s’mores!”.

Steve doesn’t seem to hear them though, otherwise he’d be shutting that shit down. Instead, his face only scrunches in confusion, “What about Eddie?”

Nancy looks surprised for a blink, then disgruntled, like she’s pissed she forgot someone.

“I’ll just crash out here on the floor with these losers, no worries.” he shrugs.

Steve turns toward his voice, a deep crease between his brows. “That’s not fair.”

“I promise I’ll survive Stevie,” Eddie chuckles. At least he’ll be the warmest out here in front of the fireplace. “I’ve slept on worse, believe it or not, I’ll be sleeping like a king compared to then.”

Steve’s brows scrunch almost all the way together, then spring apart and settle into determined lines. “You’ll sleep with me.” he says with a nod, his arms folding across his chest.

A beat passes.

Eddie can’t resist.

He leans close to Steve’s side, “A bit presumptuous, Stevie darling,”

Steve’s face practically glows with the flush that appears in the next beat, mumbling something to himself as he walks to the door and starts to pull on his coat and boots.

Eddie pushes off the counter and follows, obnoxiously holding a hand up to one ear. “What’s that, sweetheart?” he teases, walking to his own tossed-aside boots, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“We going to the lodge now?” he hears Lucas ask as he passes.

“Finally.” Mike adds, unhelpfully.

Steve huffs, standing up again and leaning close to Eddie’s cupped hand, “As if you hadn’t thought about it, darling.”

Four of the other ten are in their coats and boots and out the door after Steve before Eddie comes back online.

-x-X-x-

So here he is: outside. In the snow. With skis strapped to his feet. All because of Steve and his surprisingly generous parents.

He watches, amused, as Robin stands as still as she possibly can, arms spread wide, while Nancy helps strap her into her skis. As soon as the skis had gotten remotely close to being attached to her, it was discovered that no matter what section of ground they may be standing on, Robin would start to drift away. Sliding down some sort of unseen incline backwards, frontwards, and/or sideways.

Jon and Argyle are already almost to the closest lift, and Eddie watches as they do a weird half-jump onto the bench as it comes up behind them.

The gremlins had scattered after Steve’s ‘be careful’ lecture, telling them all when to be back to the van by, or back to the cabin if they will be coming off the slopes near there, telling them all to be safe and to keep to pairs or more so they can be radioed.

They’d all brought their walkies with them, and Eddie can see where the boys are still huddled together, swapping out their batteries.

He watches them split off soon after, Dustin and Lucas pushing off to where Max and El are waiting at the standing lift to the top of the training hill.

Mike and Will scoot off together in the opposite direction, toward the centermost lift a few dozen yards away.

“Guess we’re the only two without dates, huh?” He says as Steve slides to a stop on his own skis beside him.

He’d meant it jokingly, was probably going to follow it up with some jabs about being Steve’s wingman if he needed (there were already a few ladies he’d seen giving Steve some looks while they waited for their gear in the main lodge), but Steve shrugs and says: “I’ll be your date this weekend, Eds. Wouldn’t want you to feel left out or anything.”

Eddie whips his head around to look at him, “That’s not–” he starts, but cuts himself off at the look Steve is giving him. His goggles have been haphazardly pushed up his face, trapping a few loose locks of Steve’s hair between them and the roll of his beanie, his cheeks are already bitten red with the cold, and he’s smiling so painfully sincerely under that damn teasing smirk that all Eddie can do is acquiesce.

“You better be the best date here then, Stevie,” Eddie chides, starting off toward the lift Jonathan and Argyle had disappeared up, “I won’t settle for anyone other than the bes–” he pitches forward suddenly, one of his skis sticking to the snow under it more than it should’ve.

Steve catches him, of course, and says “Will I get points taken off as ‘Best Date Ever’ if I make you go on the training hill?”

They do go to the training hill, lovingly called the Bunny Hopper, but he and Robin are thankfully saved from the embarrassment of actually being taught by the volunteers there; Steve and Nancy taking them to the slightly taller ‘big kid’ hill and teaching them there.

Surprising even himself, Eddie picks up on the motions and the feeling of being on skis easily. The whole ‘pizza’ thing about stopping was still iffy but the rest is no problem. Fun, actually.

“That was great, man! You’re a natural!” Steve beams at him, his grin lopsided from the meat of his cheeks being squashed under his goggles.

“I just had a great teacher,” he brushes off the compliment, elbowing Steve playfully.

Steve somehow grins even bigger, and Eddie’s heart stammers.

“You ready to go to the real hill now?” “This isn’t a real hill?”

He’s positive Steve just rolled his eyes under his goggles. “C’mon smartass, let's get in line for the lift.”

Eddie bows him forward, “After you, sweetheart.”

He follows Steve to the end of the line; thankfully it’s not too long, now that it’s late afternoon and will be getting dark soon.

Steve seems to notice this as well, lifting his goggles off his face again. “We’ll have to call the gremlins back sooner than I thought. It’ll be dark soon.”

“Stop reading my mind, Stevie.”

Steve looks over at him, squinting hard and pursing his lips (Eddie’s stupid lizard brain has a split second thought of those lips pursed around something). “Ugh! Ew, gross Eddie, what would make you think about that?!”

He feels his face blanche and scrambles to recover. “I was only thinking about our good friend Robin, Steve-o, you saying Robin is gross?” He pitches his voice higher and glances down the line to where he can see Robin and Nancy.

Robin flips her mitten up at him, and he can infer the gesture just fine, thanks.

“Shut up, asshole.” Steve laughs, pushing him out of the line on his skis.

They’re the next to hop up on the moving bench, and Steve’s…everything…seems to seize up as soon as they’re seated and on their way.

“Could you imagine?”

“Hm?” He’s still looking down anxiously, so Eddie scoots just a bit closer, pressing what he hopes is comfortingly into Steve’s side.

“If we could read each other's minds? If the bats biting us both somehow linked us together?”

It works a little; Steve tears his eyes away from the ground as it drops away from them, huffing out a short laugh, “I don’t think I would survive inside your head, it’d be even more chaotic than you already are.”

“As if your head would be any better.”

“Hey, my head is great!”

Eddie grins wickedly, “You get told that a lot, Stevie?”

Steve seems unphased, smirking slowly. “I do, actually. Why? You tryin’ t’see if it’s true?”

His cheeks start to prickle, “You offering, big boy?”

“Maybe I am,” Steve shrugs then leans closer, “Now the real question is if you’re gonna take me up on it.”

Eddie’s head reels in the couple seconds he takes to respond.

Where in the hell is all this coming from? Is it just part of the ‘date’ thing? There’s no fuckin’ way Steve is actually into him, is there? He’s always been flirty, just like Eddie is himself, but there’s no way there are any actual feelings behind it… So there’s no harm in playing along.

“I’m gonna have to now, aren’t I?” he grins back, “Gotta see if it lives up to the hype.”

Steve smirks, his eyes hooded. He’s good at pretending, he’ll give him that.

His eyes glance away, then back to Eddie’s face. The sultry look he’d been hamming up for his sake is gone, just an easy smile remains. At least this sudden flirting Steve’s decided to do isn’t going to ruin their surprisingly solid post-apocalyptic friendship.

“It’s almost time to get off, ready?”

Eddie looks ahead to where the couple on the bench before them are hopping off. They stand up off the lift easily and don’t end up in a heap, but he is starting to feel the anxiety Steve was feeling only minutes ago. How’s he supposed to get out of the way fast enough, isn’t there a drop? That looked way too easy.

“As I’ll ever be,” he gulps.

“Give me your hand.” Steve says, not waiting for a response and snatching up Eddie’s hand in his, “Okay, when I say so, you just gotta stand up. Ready?”

“Stand up, what do you mea—” he feels his legs lift a bit as the ground rises to coast under his skis, and it makes sense.

“Now!”

Wait, no! He wasn’t ready!

He stands just a breath after Steve, but isn’t fast enough, the lift continues up on its path and catches him again, forcing his butt back into the seat.

“Eddie, you gotta–”

He tries again at the same time Steve pulls him forward and he pitches forward, landing with an “Oof–” on top of Steve and forcing the breath from the other man’s lungs.

“Aw fuck, sorry Stevie!” He rolls off of him and out of the path of the upcoming lift chairs. “That went exactly as well as I thought it would.”

Steve wheezes out a breathless laugh, standing back up on his skis with no problem at all. Wait, how did he do that? How’s he supposed to get up with these things on his feet?

“Here,” Steve arranges his skis for him, putting one long side of each onto the snow, “Give me your poles, and push yourself up with your hands. You want to get your feet under you.”

He does as he’s told and walks his weight around on his hands to the fronts of his skis until he’s bent forward at his hips, standing straight out of the bend.

“...Huh.”

“Good job, man!” Steve grins, handing him back his poles, “Getting up on skis can be a bitch and a half; way to catch on quick.”

Eddie grins mischievously, deciding to be a little shit. “I dunno, you’d think my date would like seeing me bent over for him, huh Stevie?”

Steve just rolls his eyes, snapping his goggles back down with a smile, “C’mon, asshole, let’s get out of the way; the run to the right of the lift looked shorter on the map.”

Thankfully, the chair behind them had been empty, but the next one had a full four people on it and it was coming up fast.

“‘Sides,” He says, pushing off toward the top of the run, waiting for Eddie to scoot in next to him at the crest before leaning in and murmuring low into his ear, “I’d rather wait ‘till we’re alone to bend you over properly.”

Steve’s a good 20 feet away by time Eddie comes back to himself enough to follow.

They get about an hour and a half in on the hills, a grand total of six wipeouts under Eddie’s belt, and a couple others under Steve’s, with one successful landing off one of the jumps on the main drag to finish off the day.

“Didja see that?!” Steve yells, pulling down the balaclava he’d unceremoniously added to his getup about an hour ago.

“Hell yes Stevie!” Eddie calls, breathless, still coasting to the bottom of the slope after him. “You landed it!”

“I landed it!”

Steve holds his arms open as Eddie once again fails to slow himself down properly, and catches him at the bottom in a crushing hug. His cheeks are flushed with adrenaline, bitten with the cold, his eyes bright in the setting sun and smile nearly as beautiful.

Damn he’s pretty.

Courteous as ever, Steve waits until Eddie’s arranged his feet the right way again before letting him go to spin the pack off his back for their assigned walkie.

Steve radios the party, and everyone is packed away in their van a scant ten minutes later. The older teens had already made it back to the cabin, letting themselves in off a run near there, so it was only the similarly flushed and excitement-filled younger teens babbling away in the back seats.

There’s overlapping stories of their own wipeouts (including one Robin took that Max swears was hilarious), Dustin insisting he saw a brown bear through the trees at one point, and all six debating whether or not they’d want to go to the main lodge for the waterpark tomorrow instead of back onto the hills.

They are still debating amongst themselves when they pull into the driveway. “Alright dorks,” Steve calls over the bickering, “Go inside and hang up your shit next to the fireplace so it can dry out.”

Eddie follows the troop into the living room and watches them pile all their outerwear together on the two hooks closest to the stone fireplace, then tear off downstairs where he heard there may have been a Nintendo stashed in one of the bedroom dressers.

Jonathan and Robin start methodically re-arranging the coats and snow pants on the hooks so they’ll dry easier, while Argyle pushes up off one of the couches to start on dinner.

“C’mon Eds, get comfy,” Steve says, coming up beside him and gesturing to the loveseat directly across from the roaring fire. Eddie can already feel the burn of it across his frigid skin, “I gotta make sure I get you unthawed before I get you into my bed.” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s ear.

And isn’t that a whole new type of torment. They will actually be sleeping in the same bed tonight…the next three nights!

Steve turns back to the kitchen when Eddie drops cross-legged onto the sofa, and the tingling feeling in his cheeks has nothing to do with the fire.

It’s half from Steve’s scarily earnest-sounding flirting, but also about half from the look Robin is giving him while she takes the spot next to Nancy on the other couch.

“What? What’s the look for?”

Robin shrugs, picking up what must’ve been her discarded book from the end table between them (which she’s got the already read half curled backward around its spine, like a heathen), “Nothin’ at all, Eds.”

His face is burning hotter than the fire by the time Steve returns.

He passes them each a mug of cocoa, then flops down on the floor in front of Eddie’s knees.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Eddie asks, surprised at the nonchalance he was able to muster up. He reaches forward and tugs on a lock of Steve’s hair without even thinking about it (and ignoring the muffled giggle coming from somewhere to Robin’s left. Oh great, Nancy’s in on his torment too?).

Steve lets out a contented hum, dropping his head back to lie heavily in Eddie’s lap, “Argyle’s whipping up some burgers.”

Eddie leaves his fingers in Steve’s hair, absentmindedly pulling them through a few tangles left behind by his hat.

Steve’s head lolls around in Eddie’s lap with the motions of his fingers for a whole thirty seconds before he snaps it back up, “Oh–ugh–wait, don’t do that,” Eddie pulls his hand away immediately, an apology on his tongue, but Steve continues, standing up and saying, “I’m all gross and sweaty, man, at least let me take a shower first. Be right back.” Steve grins, and heads upstairs to the master bedroom.

Eddie blinks into the space left behind by Steve’s departure, then Nancy is standing as well; “That’s a good idea,” she says, unfolding from her spot at Robin’s side and walking around the back of the couch, “I’ll be back up soon.” She gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze, and heads downstairs.

Not a full five seconds pass before Robin says, “So...Steve’s super into you.”

Eddie balks at her, his eyes darting around the room automatically. Jon’s helping Argyle chop up toppings for their burgers, the two of them paying less than zero attention to him or Robin, there’s a yell from downstairs followed by laughter, the sound of a shower starting from the open balcony to the upstairs bedroom..

“You can’t just say shit like that, Birdie.” he whispers, his tone harried.

“What, the truth?”

“He is not into me.”

She nods in sarcastic understanding, “Ah, so you’re into him.”

“No I’m—” she levels him with a look. He sighs, glancing around at the no one around them, “Okay fine, yes, I am super into him. But he is not into me.”

Robin shrugs, going back to her book. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think he is. And I think you should make a move.”

“Make a mo—He’s straight as fuck, Robin!”

She gives him a glance, her brow furrowing for a split second then smoothing out. “Did he tell you that?”

“He didn’t have to.” he says, sinking back against the cushions.

She doesn’t say anything else, and he goes back to staring at the fire.

“If you make a move on Steve, I’ll finally make a move on Nancy.” she says a handful of minutes later.

He processes that slowly, takes a deep breath, then shoves his hand towards her without looking over.

She takes it, giving it one hard shake.

As soon as he takes his hand back, Argyle lopes into view with a plate in his hand, “Food’s ready my dudes.” He says, sinking into the armchair closest to the glass balcony door.

Robin snaps her book shut and sets it down on the little end table between them (the cover curls back up immediately, the poor thing), standing up and heading into the kitchen.

Eddie has just let his feet fall to the floor and has scooted to the edge of his seat to stand up himself, when Argyle yells out “Nice tits!”

“Whose tits are out?” Eddie asks, following his gaze automatically.

Argyle goes back to his plate. “Steve’s.”

Uh…Yeah…He can see that for himself now.

Steve is standing at the railing of the upper floor in nothing but a towel. One hand is flipping Argyle off, and the other is preoccupied with scrubbing a second towel over his damp hair.

The towel wrapped around him is slung low on his hips, and Eddie’s eyes start to roam on their own.

Steve’s stomach is solid yet soft-looking with all its faded pink scars, and it and his chest are still as hairy as Eddie remembers; strong shoulders, solid jaw, dusty lips that pull up into a smirk, all of him is so fucking perfect.

“Hurry it up, dingus, food’s ready!” Robin calls, startling Eddie out of his gawking.

His face goes hot with embarrassment, chancing another glance up to Steve and hoping he didn’t get caught…

Steve winks at him, then turns out of sight, disappearing just as his hand comes down to grab the towel twisted around him.

His face burns, and doesn’t stop burning until long after Steve returns from upstairs.

He makes up a burger for himself, and once each of them have theirs, they call the rest of the hoard upstairs. The six teens all but destroy the remaining burgers, two whole bags of chips, and would have gulped down at least one whole 12 pack of Coke if Nancy hadn’t relegated them to one can each.

Steve’s about to herd them back downstairs when El pipes up and says that they’ve decided they want to go to the waterpark in the main lodge tonight instead of tomorrow. Surprisingly, Steve agrees to drive them over there on the condition “you shitheads are careful, and are ready to go as soon as the pools close at midnight. Got it?”

“Agreed.” they say in unison, splitting off in all directions to grab their swim stuff.

“I’m surprised at you, Stevie, letting them go off on their own.”

He just shrugs, “There’s lifeguards.”

The troops are back in the living room within ten minutes, and in their boots and out the door in 12.

Once they’re out the door, Robin goes back to her book, Jon and Argyle step out onto the balcony to smoke, and Eddie follows Nancy into the kitchen without even thinking about it, grabbing up the hand towel hanging from the oven door and placing himself to her right.

“Thanks,” she says, handing him the first wet plate from the mess of suds in the sink.

They work in silence for a few minutes, listening to the crackling of the fire, the clanging of silverware in the sink, the muffled voices of the two on the porch.

“Nancy?”

“Yeah, Eddie?”

“If I–If Ste–” he wasn’t sure how to ask this, how to even approach the topic, “Robin said—”

“He’d be lucky to have you Eddie, and you him.” She says, not looking up from the sink.

“How’d you–?”

“Robin tends to ramble when she's nervous, have you noticed?”

He stares down at her, dumbfounded. Her lips quirk into a smile. “She’s like that around me a lot, actually.”

“I’ve noticed.”

They fall back into silence again; on the last plate, she says, “Robin’s already had this conversation with Steve about me, so I only assume it’s fair that you have it with me about him.” She passes the last plate to him and pulls the drain from the water.

“Just remember Eddie,” She pauses and turns to face him, one hip cocked over to lean on the edge of the counter. “If you’re gonna go for it..Steve loves with all of him at once. Don’t take it for granted.”

He sets the dried plate onto the rack beside the sink as she passes behind him, patting him on the shoulder as she does.

He wants to take a moment to process all that, but just his luck, Steve returns then, passing in behind him where Nancy just left to grab up a six-pack.

Steve hands one to Eddie as he leaves, “You okay, Eds?”

“I’m good, thanks Stevie.” he says, fixing his face into an easy smile.

The six of them lounge around the rest of the evening, slowly sipping on their drinks while they play cards in front of the fire, but there’s a catch: Eddie’s going absolutely insane.

Steve’s touching him everywhere. His thigh and foot are sitting comfortably under Eddie’s own thigh where it’s crossed above it, his arm is draped across the back of the couch behind Eddie’s shoulders and methodically twirling long lengths of dark hair between his fingers.

Eddie’s been doing his damndest to ignore it, and succeeds, actually, for short periods of time while they are playing Uno, but every time Steve leans back from dropping his next card on the coffee table, he casually puts his arm back where it was, and grabs up a new lock of Eddie’s hair to torture him with.

And each time he does, Robin gives him the same knowing look.

It’s. Agony.

He wants to relax, wants to scream, he wants to swing his leg over Steve’s lap and press him into the cushions with heated kisses, he wants to haul the other man upstairs and throw him onto the bed…be thrown onto the bed.

Finally, Nancy calls it, breaking their little bubble to stand into a long stretch around nine. Steve hops up off the couch after Robin to gather up all the rest of the cans, and Eddie helps Jon and Argyle pull apart the couches enough to fold out the beds for when the goblins come back.

He escapes upstairs after a short goodnight to the two, Robin and Steve are still bickering in hushed tones about something in the kitchen, and pulls out his bag. He’s fishing out a new pair of boxers when Steve finally gets upstairs, shutting the room’s double doors behind him and heading into the ensuite.

He left the door open in his wake, so Eddie grabs up the rest of his things and follows. He drops his pile of stuff onto the closed lid of the toilet and shucks his shirt unceremoniously, tossing it to the floor.

The glass door of the huge half-walled stone shower squeaks softly on its hinges when he opens it to start the water, squeaking again when it swings closed. He reaches up to a shelf above the toilet to pull down one of the provided towels, turning to hang it on the hook beside the shower.

It’s while he’s turning back to the hook that he chances a look at Steve.

Steve, frozen at the sink with his toothbrush hanging listlessly in the air and a glob of foamy toothpaste slowly drooping off his lip, is staring.

Unabashedly.

At Eddie’s bare torso.

Eddie caught and cataloged this in the split second it took Steve to realize Eddie was staring back, but it was enough.

The flirting had been one thing, a natural, goofy continuation of their friendship that led to their ‘date’ today, the soft touches and hair-playing had been another, something Eddie could explain away just as easily. Steve is a touchy guy once you get close to him, and had been with Eddie since they’d gotten closer after spring break.

But this?

He’s looking at him with the same wide-eyed look Eddie’d given him earlier: gobsmacked and slightly hungry.

Steve turns away quickly, spitting into the sink and mumbling something under his breath while he finishes rinsing out his mouth.

Eddie snorts, shaking his head and finally hanging up his towel.

“Oh, what, now you’re gonna be all shy?” he grouses, twisting around to scowl at the back of Steve’s head. Steve looks over his shoulder to glare at him in return, his cheeks glowing red. “Really? The guy who was joking about bending me over only a couple hours ago? The same guy who was winking at me in nothing but a towel earlier?”

Steve flushes darker, and it irritates him to no end. “Honestly Steve?” Eddie starts, turning back to the shower and pretending to fix how his towel is hanging, “If you’re into me, just do something about it. Otherwise, just…back off, okay? I’m super into you but I can be a big boy about it because honestly, I’d rather keep you around as a friend if nothing else and—”

His rambling is cut off by the click of the bathroom door closing.

Eddie lets out a long breath, “Yeah.. that’s about what I expected.” Robin was wrong.

He takes a moment to collect himself, but just as he pops open the button on his jeans, Steve’s voice breaks through the sound of rushing water.

“Were you being serious?”

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie yelps, spinning around to face the man who’s still very much in the bathroom with him. “What the fuck, Steve?”

“Were you?” he asks, pushing off from where he’d been leaning back on the door.

“...About what?”

“About how you’re ‘super into’ me?” he grins.

Eddie crosses his arms across his chest defensively, “You don’t get to be an ass about it, Steve.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve says softly, reaching out to unfold Eddie’s arms. His fingers follow the length of them and grasp Eddie’s in his, “I wasn’t trying to be, promise; I’m just surprised is all.”

“Surprised?”

“Well yeah,” he shrugs, “The super hot metalhead you’ve been mooning after since March confesses he thinks you’re also super hot? That’s kinda hard to believe.”

He can feel Steve’s shirt brushing faintly against his stomach now. “I never said you were super hot.” he manages to say.

Steve catches his eyes, smirking at him with an obnoxious head tilt, “Didja have to?”

“Shut up..” Eddie snorts out a laugh and pushes lightly at Steve’s chest; he’s laughing too. “Okay, okay, now leave me alone so I can shower.” he says, pushing a bit harder this time. “I’ll be out soon and you can do with me what you wish.”

Steve’s leaning his weight against him, fighting going back to the bedroom, “Or…”

“Or?” Damn, he’s heavy what the fuck!

“I could, maybe, if you want..Icouldgetinwithyou.”

Eddie stops pushing.

Steve scratches at the back of his head in embarrassment, “I mean, I’ve been wanting to get you naked for months now and there’s a perfectly good reason right there, and I think it’d be nice to shower, y’know…together.. and wow, I am being super awkward, actually..so I’m just gonna…yeah.”

Steve gestures over his shoulder toward the bedroom but he doesn’t even move to turn before Eddie is pulling him back the other way.

He lets him go a couple steps away from the glass shower door, “Better get t’stripping big boy, can’t shower very well with clothes on, can you?” he winks, then faces away from Steve to finally shed his jeans (and for his own sanity).

Eddie can hear the split second it takes for Steve to start pulling off his clothes, taking another second for himself before pushing his jeans and boxers off his hips.

He had been trying to be in the shower under the spray before Steve was even out of his clothes, but one of his legs got caught, then he had to pause further to pull off the stubborn sock that decided not to come off with his jeans.

Which of course led to him nearly toppling over.

He caught himself on the wall, but not before Steve’s hands caught him around the waist too. “Careful, Eds.”

Oh fuck. Steve’s hands should not feel that good against his skin..also, dammit! He was trying to be all suave and cool by getting in under the water before Steve could see him fully, and now his bare fuckin’ ass is out for all to see…

Eddie laughs to himself.

“What?”

“Nothin’, I just thought I’d be…better? At this?”

“At what?”

“Stupid fuckin’—” Eddie finally gets his sock off, then sighs, “I dunno, being sexy, or mysterious I guess? Coy maybe?”

“Why would you need to be any of that?”

Eddie shrugs, stepping out of Steve’s hold and into the shower and under the spray, staying faced away from the door while Steve follows.

“Are you gonna look at me?” he asks, voice devoid of anything but concern.

Taking a breath, Eddie steels himself and turns to face Steve in the large shower.

Steve’s expression is calm, open, but skews slightly into concern under Eddie’s gaze.

The long lean lines of his torso are just the same as the other two times he’s seen them, but they’re close now, and in good lighting too; Eddie can see a few other scars other than the ones from the bats, others he’s gotten over the years protecting the heard of goblins they’ve been co-parenting since last September.

He watches rogue droplets of water slough down the now-damp hairs on his arms, his legs, his chest, the ones that follow the path of darkening hairs down his stomach to his—

Steve steps closer, sharing the warm, wide spray of the shower with him.

He lifts his hand and brushes the damp hair back from the scar that marrs Eddie’s face and neck, stepping forward fully and cupping the puckered flesh in his palm when the hair settles wetly behind his shoulder

Eddie feels time stop for a brief moment.

All of Steve is pressed into him and they line up perfectly, like they were made to share the same space. Steve’s other hand slides onto Eddie’s hip and it tugs him closer. Steve's half-hard length slots into place beside Eddie’s own, into the crevice where his crotch meets thigh.

Eddie shudders a breath at the feeling, opening his eyes to study the planes of Steve’s face and the way he is seemingly drooping forward into Eddie’s orbit.

Steve’s smiling softly at him, the soft spray of water reflecting off their chests is misting up onto his cheek and lashes. His eyes are so much more green than he’d thought before, besides how little of the color he can see around the much larger pupil.

“Gorgeous.” Steve says, his voice is breathy and low, full of admiration, of longing…and it takes Eddie out of his reverie.

“Wha?” He says, eloquent as ever.

“You’re gorgeous, Eddie.”

Then, Steve’s lips are on his, tentative and sweet; soft, but becoming heady fast.

The next time their lips meet, it’s punctuated with a short huff of air from Steve’s lungs when Eddie spins them, pressing Steve into the stone wall beside the shower knobs. He parts his lips to mumble out an apology, but Steve’s tongue decides to fill the space instead.

The hand Steve had on Eddie’s jaw snakes down to grab hold of his other hip and pulls him even closer, using the both of them to roll Eddie’s hips into his.

Their tongues slide languidly against the other, the fast pace they’d been building into falling off in exchange for slow, sanguine kisses instead.

Eddie lets out a shaky breath when they do part, blinking across the short distance between them at Steve’s kiss-bitten lips for only a second before letting his eyes fall shut with the exhale.

“Steve…is this—Is this real?”

Steve breathes out a shaky laugh of his own, “Why wouldn’t it be real, Eddie?” He asks, gently tracing the length of Eddie’s nose with his.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve had this exact dream before; are you sure I didn’t snap my neck during one of those falls earlier?”

The younger man laughs fully this time, and Eddie relishes in the slippery feeling of the wet skin of Steve’s stomach rippling against his own. He can’t help but grin in response to both the laughter and the funny feeling, his eyes opening without a second thought.

Steve looks like he’s floating, his face soft and dripping with a bright beaming smile..

“Do you need me to pinch you?” Steve asks, finally coming down from his brief fit of laughter.

“I don’t know if I want to find out this isn’t real.” Eddie grins in return.

One of Steve’s large hands leaves his hip then, snaking around to pinch the underside of Eddie’s asscheek.

He sucks in a short hiss of pain and lets out a soft whimper of something else (holy shit, when did that become a thing??) in the same breath.

“Okay…” he gulps down a mouthful of nothing, “Not a dream.”

“Not a dream..” Steve repeats.

There’s a beat, two full breaths of more nothing before Steve spins them around and pushes Eddie back into the cold stone instead, his arm wrapped around him and up to cup the back of his skull protectively against the tile.

He presses a thick thigh between Eddie’s and does three things almost simultaneously.

The first, a second before the other two: He locks his heavy-lidded gaze on Eddie’s; two and three: presses the thigh between Eddie’s legs up, and pulls the hand at the back of his skull down along with a fistful of dark curls.

“Aahhh—ohhh fuck, Steve…” The sting from his scalp pulls a moan from his exposed throat, and Eddie scrambles to grab hold of something.

His nails dig into the slick skin of Steve’s back automatically, and he opens his mouth to apologize the same moment Steve latches onto his neck with a low groan of his own.

The hand not tangled in Eddie’s hair is starting to pull him down in waves against Steve’s thigh and hips, both of them hissing in pleasure with each pass of the other’s length against theirs.

“Mmmm, Eddie..” Steve moans, unlatching from the bruise he’s sure to have left on Eddie’s throat to lave his tongue and lips against his jaw instead. “Baby, you feel so good against me.”

“AAaahh—mmm..”

“Ooh, and you sound so sweet..” His lips trail down from his jaw back to the definitely sore spot on his neck, one that he prods lightly with the tip of his tongue before continuing on to nip at the taught skin of his collarbone, kiss lightly over the skin of his scarred pec, finally landing tongue first onto Eddie’s remaining nipple.

The reaction to this is immediate; Eddie arches his chest further into Steve’s mouth. Steve, the sonofabitch he is, suctions his lips away from Eddie’s flushed skin in response.

“Hhnng—what the actual fuck, Steve?” Eddie glares best he can though the panting, “Get that mouth back over here.”

Miraculously, Steve obliges, sliding forward into a saccharine kiss and pulling Eddie away from

the wall and back under the spray of water.

“C’mon Eds, tilt your head back before the hot water runs out.”

Eddie just gapes at him, at his dick, both their dicks, still standing at attention, back up to his face.

Steve just purses his lips together as if holding back a grin and tugs Eddie’s head back by his hair again, soaking the strands through under the water.

He lets Steve turn him this way and that, reveling in the feeling of the other man’s hands in his hair, slick with soap on his skin, the gentle nudges and pulls relaxing him further into this weird world where Steve’s totally into him and also they’re naked in the shower together.

Finally, when Steve tilts his head back for the final time to rinse the conditioner out of his hair, Eddie decides to be a little shit, pushing his hips forward to clash their (still half-hard) dicks together.

“What are you—really? A sword fight?”

Eddie lets out a long cackle, “What? You knew what you were getting into with me, didn’t’cha Stevie?”

Doubt crashes into Eddie’s chest the instant the words escape his mouth.

He did, didn’t he? He likes him for his antics right? Oh fuck…How long would it take for Steve to get sick of his shit?

Despite Eddie’s near-crushing doubts, Steve smiles and says, “That I did.” easy as breathing, then pulls Eddie flush against him in another heated kiss.

Steve walks him backward after a moment, and Eddie drops his hands behind him to feel for the inevitable press of cold stone on his back, shuddering when it finally makes contact.

His gasp from the cold tile only seems to egg the other man on, hunching down to grip him around the backs of his thighs.

Eddie’s legs lock around Steve’s waist in panic, but pleasure shoots through him with the motion too, the horny thrill of being picked up so effortlessly along with the pressure of Steve’s stomach against the underside of his dick.

“Mmph—Steve holy shit,” he’s only just managed to thread the fingers on one hand into those sleek brown locks when he has to stifle down a long groan with a bite to his knuckle. “Hnngh–Steve, Steve, you gotta—oh fuck..”

The muscles of Steve’s stomach bunch under him as he grinds up in slow, torturous rolls..

“Oh, fuck—” the words spill out of his mouth, loud and long; his palm snaps up to hold them in as Steve pushes his shoulders into the tile behind him and leans back, leaving Eddie’s body balanced between strong thighs and shower wall.

The tile hits hard on the back of his skull when Steve wraps one of those hands of his around both their lengths. Eddie manages to look down, only to knock his head back again at the sight.

Even with the added height of being on top of Steve’s thighs, their heads are exactly level, disappearing over and over again into the water-warmed skin of Steve’s fist.

Steve hunches forward again, pressing kisses into Eddie’s sternum. “Gorgeous.”

“Steve...” he whispers in return, grinding as much as he can against the length slotted along his.

Again, too soon, Steve is pulling away, releasing his grip on them both.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, already moving to drop his legs back to the floor.

Steve stops him, hoisting his legs back around him and lifting him off the wall. “I’m taking you up on your offer.” He says, twisting off the now-cold stream of water and carefully stepping over the lip of the doorway through the glass door.

“My offer?”

“You said that after your shower, you’d come back out here to the bedroom and I could have my way with you.”

A half whine, half moan curls out of Eddie’s throat to his utter embarrassment.

“D’ya like that idea, sweetheart?” Steve says, grinning mischievously.

Eddie manages to scowl at him as they leave the steamy bathroom, and is dropped down onto the mattress soon after.

“Aw shit!”

“What? What happened?”

It’s cold as shit, that’s what.” The air-cooled temperature of the covers against his skin has him breaking out in goosebumps.

Steve winces, “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.”

What was calm and collected confidence flickers off his face, and Eddie can’t have that. “Jus’ come over here and warm me up, big bo–wait,” He sits up and stops Steve when only one of his knees has made it onto the bed. “Lemme look at you.”

He looks down at Steve, and yep. Big Boy is very accurate. He’d felt it against him already, Steve’s too-gorgeous-to-be-real dick; he’s longer for sure, cut and curved up like something out of a wet dream.

“Oh, definitely big boy,” Eddie grins, looking up at Steve’s somewhat embarrassed expression.

“It’s nothing special.” he shrugs, his cheeks heating up as he climbs up Eddie’s damp body. He lowers himself down lay between his legs, his dick slotting itself beside Eddie’s once again.

He hunches over to kiss lightly up the scars on Eddie’s left side, lips brushing along the healed edge of the biggest one. It tickles, then it doesn’t, then does, then doesn’t, his lips pressing halfway onto skin and halfway onto puckered pink flesh.

“Steve..”

“Yeah baby?” he responds after a few more kisses.

“You’re giving me more goosebumps.” Eddie says, somewhat breathless.

Another kiss, “Mmmm.. You’re welcome.”

That shocks a laugh out of him, “You’re such a dork.”

Steve takes one of Eddie’s hands where it lays on the mattress, lacing their fingers together and pressing them back into the mattress beside his head.

“Says you.” he affirms, locking those ridiculous hazel eyes on his.

Eddie’s about to crack off another one liner, say something to…all that, but it’s completely erased from his mind when Steve ducks his head down to find his nipple again.

“Oh fuckin–nnng..” his hips buck up hard into Steve’s, who presses down into him in return.

He can feel it when Steve grins against his skin. “Shut up, asshole, that fee–ee–els so good.”

“Hmm, tell me about it, baby.” He’s grinding down slowly now, adding to the exponentially increasing Steve-addled brain fog he’s currently experiencing.

“Ahhh—I want to but–”

“But what?” Steve’s breath over the spit-slick spot on his chest sends a chill through him.

“Oh fuck–If any of them hear us, we’re never going to hear the end of it.” he tries to warn around another stifled moan.

The Menace is undeterred, swirling his tongue around the little nub open-mouthed and hot once more before moving upwards, trailing his lips up Eddie’s breastbone until he’s sucking kisses into his throat once again. He continues up along the length of his neck until he reaches his ear, “Then you’d better keep it down, huh?”

Well that didn’t help. He lets out a long moan in response, clamping a hand over his mouth way too late.

“You sound so good though,” Steve says, continuing his slow grinding, “I can’t wait to get you alone so I can fuck you properly.”

That pulls another moan from behind Eddie’s palm. “Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie bucks his hips up as much as he can, but Steve's palms move down to hold him in place.

“Can’t have that now, can we?” Steve chides, trailing his lips down his stomach as he slides back to the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Wh–Why not?”

“Because I’d prefer,” a kiss above his belly button, “to choke,” a kiss below, “on my own accord.”, then swallows Eddie down in one go.

“Oh fffuuck—”

Steve hums in agreement around Eddie’s dick and the vibrations course up his spine to rattle around in his brain.

“Oh shit, Stevie, that feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes, twisting his fingers into Steve’s hair.

In response, Steve starts to bob his head, swirling his tongue around Eddie’s on the upstroke, and sucking with fervor on the down.

“Steve, sweetheart–fuck–if you keep going I’m gonna—haah—”

“And what if I want you to?”

“And what if I want to to-together?”

Steve releases him with a wet pop, kissing his way back up to Eddie’s lips, humming in satisfaction when he reaches them, like kissing Eddie is the best part of all this.

And doesn’t that make his head spin.

“All you’d have to do is ask.”

Eddie pulls Steve back to his lips and bucks up into him again. “That’s me asking.”

Steve grins down at him and re-starts his slow, tortuous pace.

He’s rock hard against Eddie’s thigh, and this is getting fuckin’ ridiculous.

“Alright, you know what,” Eddie pushes his hips up hard and flips them over, straddling Steve’s thighs in no time at all.

“Holy shit—“ Steve blinks up at him in astonishment, like he’s surprised that he’s been flipped so easily.

Eddie grinds down onto Steve, “You don’t get to tease me like that, big boy.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles, then groans when Eddie wraps his hand around their lengths. His hands grip onto Eddie’s thighs, squeezing tight to match the hold on them.

Eddie fucks forward into his fist, pulling his hand down to meet each thrust and watching as Steve’s head drops back onto the mattress.

He lets out a long groan. “Eddie…”

“Yeah, Stevie?”

Eddie runs his fingers over both their heads, adding to the slight slip of pre with a well aimed glob of spit that makes Steve hum out a short breathy moan as it makes contact with his head.

More noises of appreciation are pulled from the man under him as he rubs the pad of his thumb through the mess and under the head of Steve’s cock in small circles.

“Mmhm oh fuck..”

“You like that?”

“Mmhmm,” he nods dazedly “Keep moving though, feels so good, Eds.”

“You got it, sweetheart.” Eddie grins, wrapping his palm around them again and pushes forward into his fist.

Steve’s head drops back onto the pillow beneath him, “Just like that Eddie, fuck.”

He gives them a few more strokes, then Steve’s hands start to move; his warm palms skirt along the wiry hair on his legs, one traveling around to grab onto Eddie’s horribly non-existent ass, and the other comes up to his remaining nipple, pinching it between two digits.

That did it. The hot coil of pleasure already broiling in his stomach twists even tighter. “Ahh—Stevie..I’m so close, Jesus Christ…”

“Me too..”

“Yeah? Well c’mon sweetheart, give it to me.”

A scant two passes of his hand later, Steve shoots hot across his stomach, and Eddie follows a half stroke later.

He sinks down to the bed against Steve’s heaving ribs, tucking his shoulder under the other man’s arm.

After a few more breaths, Steve pulls Eddie into him and presses his lips to Eddie’s still-damp forehead.

“Ew gross, don’t do that, I’m all sweaty.”

“Don't care.” Steve mumbles softly into his hairline.

In return, Eddie wipes his soiled hand off on Steve’s stomach.

“Ew! Gross!” Steve laughs, shoving Eddie away with no actual intent behind it.

A few minutes later, Steve breaks the comfortable silence. “So,”

The word sinks heavily into Eddie’s gut. “So?”

When Steve doesn’t continue, Eddie turns his head to find Steve gazing at him with soft eyes, and even softer smile.

It morphs into a teasing smirk. “Did it live up to the hype?”

—--

One snooze and another heated shower later, Eddie crawls back into their bed and gets comfy while he listens to Steve pull his clothes back on to go down to the main lodge for the hellions.

He hears a short shuf when Steve’s leg skirts around the end of the bed. “I’ll be back in 15,” he says, kissing the damp hairs on Eddie’s temple. “Go to sleep, Eds.”

“Hmmm…” he hums in return, cozy as ever, and is out as soon as the door clicks shut.

Too soon, the sounds of the shitheads scrambling into the house interrupts his dozing, the door to the bedroom squeaking open not long after.

“Eds? You awake?”

Instead of answering, Eddie simply opens his arms.

He listens to Steve strip off his clothes, beckoning the man forward again when he feels the end of the mattress sink under the other man’s weight.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, hold your horses.”

“My horses have been patient enough.” Eddie grumbles as Steve finally shuffles between the sheets and into his waiting arms.

-x-X-x-

“Dude! What the hell happened to your neck?! Did you get attacked by a vampire?”

“Henderson, you are way too loud for how early it is.”

“It’s 10 am, Eddie.”

“Exactly.” the barstool creaks as he climbs onto it, gratefully accepting the plate of eggs and bacon Argyle passes him.

“Leave him alone, guys.” Steve says, coming up behind Eddie on his stool and kissing his cheek as he passes into the kitchen with his empty plate.

There’s three whole seconds of silence before the younger teens burst out into a cacophony of various outbursts.

“Aw, what? Eddie! Steve’s way too lame for you to be dating!”

“Steve, did you fuck my DM?!”

“I fuckin’ knew it. I told you they’d get together, didn’t I? Dustin, you owe me 10 bucks.”

“I don’t owe you shit, Maxine.”

“Holy shit, congrats guys.” Lucas is his new favorite… Will and El too, nodding along to Sinclair’s assessment.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough; All those heading back to the waterpark better be ready to go in T-minus three minutes otherwise I’m leavin’ without you.” Steve calls out over the noise.

The complaints follow him out of the kitchen and into the tiny laundry room off the entryway.

“Why don’t you guys get yelled at?” Eddie grumbles, poking up a forkful of egg.

Robin snorts a laugh, “Because none of us are sleeping with the babysitter.”

okay, some notes:

steve's mom is a lawyer in this canon and she's the one who paid for eddie's legal counsel/helped with clearing his name after s4

wha?? steve harrington has good parents?? insanity

"canon" hawkins is about an hour outside of indianapolis so i used shelbyville, indiana as my base and from there to boyne mountain is about a 7 hour drive. if they left at 6 am from hawkins, they'd get to the resort around 1 or 2 and have a good couple hours to ski before it gets dark again at 6 (daylight hours in the midwest during winter are a bitch.)

i did way too much research into the ski resort i based this at, only to realize that neither the cabin itself OR the waterpark were there in the 80s. so...let's all just pretend, okay?

the map above is a trail map of the resort from 1985

when i asked my husband what i should add to 'my most recent blorbos' he said 'nice tits!' so that's why that line lmao

who'da thought this'd go from skiing to shower sex? cause i didn't

i got stuck on the smut part of this for way too long and i am so glad i am a) done with it and b) that it actually turned out relatively coherent.

on that note though, i have been looking at this damn fic for so so long that i don't know if it's actually good or what. 'cause to me, it's complete garbled garbage

the title of this is from 'Object of My Desire' by Starpoint

lex i am so sorry this is late ilysm 🫶

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