#this might be bubble buddy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rebelfell · 2 months

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bells will be ringing

crush!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader x fwb!Eddie Munson

The annual Harrington Christmas Party is an elegant affair, complete with decorations, fancy food and flowing libations. But when your friend-slash-fuck buddy Eddie tires of you and Steve dancing around your burgeoning feelings for one another…he offers a creative solution. 18+, MDNI 8k

cw: MMF, allusions to poverty and implied family strife, light alcohol and weed use, kinda mean/crass Eddie, semi-public fingering/oral (f receiving), r’s hair gets pulled once.

The Harrington’s were white light people.

There wasn’t a single inch of their stately home not adorned in festive finery for their annual Christmas party. It was all silver candlesticks with cream-colored tapers, deep red ribbons tied into bows and hung at perfectly spaced intervals, long garlands of rich greenery draped along the banisters—real as shit and smelling like a goddamn pine forest.

It was a far cry from what you and Eddie knew growing up next door to one another way on the other side of town. For you two, it was scrawny and half-dead trees purchased at a discount as close to Christmas as possible when their vendors were just trying to unload them, covered in a hodgepodge of homemade ornaments and faded multicolored lights, only about half of which worked half the time. When your families could afford a tree, that was.

The Harringtons’ own stood at the far end of the house, glowing bright as a nuclear reactor with seemingly endless strands of bright white lights wound around its branches. It was methodically decorated with matching red, silver and gold baubles, each one hung precisely in place and polished to gleaming perfection.

Elegant. Proper. Pristine.

The party was already well underway by the time you arrived, Steve nowhere to be found in the sea of people. They all stood together in clumps, exchanging jovial smiles that pushed up rosy cheeks, the women cooing over each other's outfits and jewelry while the men swapped stories about their quarterly earnings. Weaving through the throngs, cater waiters floated past carrying trays loaded with hors d’oeuvres and tall glasses of shimmery, bubbly liquid.

It made you and Eddie glance around, furtive and unsure as you skulked into the foyer. The two of you might as well have been invisible for all the attention anyone paid you.

“See Steve anywhere?” you asked, peering deeper inside the house.

The former stud of Hawkins High had always been easy to spot in the hallways of his former domain, seemingly towering over everyone even after he stopped sporting that gravity-defying bouffant hairstyle. Those days were long gone now, but an occasional glimmer of his old self would still shine through, reminding you of when King Steve reigned supreme.

“Nope, nowhere,” Eddie grumbled. “I told you this was a mistake.”

His warm breath on your ear as he leaned in to whisper in it had your head snapping to the side. Some of the snow that had just started to fall outside dusted his dark, unruly curls and he still had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, as though he wanted to be ready to turn heel and run at the first opportunity. You’d seen him look more relaxed about to shoplift.

“What do you mean?”

“Look around, sweetheart. See if you can spot what doesn’t belong.”

It was kind of irritating how right he was. Everyone else in attendance tonight looked perfectly at home in this pretty picture. It was all business partners and their wives, clients who probably made more in a year than you or Eddie would hope to see in your entire lifetime, other miscellaneous friends and fellow members of the Hawkins upper echelon.

To call you fish out of water would be putting it lightly. You were like fish on a space station.

“What were we supposed to do?” you whispered back. “We had to come.”

That was debatable. Steve had invited you, yes, but he also practically tripped over himself to assure you it was totally fine if you couldn’t make it. He’d sat on the edge of Eddie’s sofa running through all his most blatant tells—hands pushing through his hair, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, foot jiggling non-stop—as he told you about the party.

“It’s all my parents' friends, so it might be kind of lame. But I’m allowed to invite people if you guys want to come. It’d be really great to see you.”

He’d worked himself up into such a state, it almost felt cruel to say no. You weren’t sure what it was—something about the earnestness with which he asked, and the way his eyes shone so hopefully when you smiled and told him you thought it sounded like fun.

Eddie’s gruff voice sounded in your ear again.

“Think we’re just here to piss off daddy?”

You followed his eyeline to the living room, gaze promptly drawn to the imposing frame of John Harrington as he reached out to grip the hand of someone important. Or at least someone who seemed to think they were. Even never having seen or met him before, he was easy to pick out as Steve’s father. They had the same square jaw, the same perfectly angled nose and rich, light brown hair. Although, John’s was cut shorter and tamed into a much more manageable style than his son’s long locks that lived in a near-constant state of tousled messiness.

“Steve wouldn’t do that,” you said firmly. “He asked us to come because we’re his friends.”

The words still felt strange to say. It made you wonder, yet again, if it would ever stop feeling so surreal that you now hung out with Steve “The Hair” Harrington on an almost daily basis.

When you were in school together, you never even landed on his radar. Eddie had some notoriety as the town’s supposed demon summoner, but you were just…around. A plain face that blended into the crowd; a background extra with no lines in the scene; wallpaper and set dressing for the popular kids who were living out their exemplary lives.

If this was only a few years prior, he probably would be spending this evening sneaking drinks with Tommy H. and Carol, or parading around with Nancy Wheeler on his arm to show her off to all his dad’s colleagues and brag about her getting into Emerson. Instead, his falling out with all of them and his subsequent fall from his high-school throne had led him here—to an unlikely friendship with The Freak and The Invisible Girl.

Whenever he came over to Eddie’s to smoke, or you three piled into his car to go to the movies or drive the winding back roads that snaked along the edge of town, it almost felt natural. And the more time you spent with him, the harder and harder it became to remember why he’d always seemed so…untouchable.

“So, what should we do?” You wondered aloud as you glanced around again, still hoping Steve might materialize somehow. Behind you, Eddie’s head shook and his shoulders shrugged.

“How should I know? You were the one begging to come tonight.”

“I wasn’t begging.”

“Oh, really?” He scoffed as he leaned in close again, raising the pitch of his voice in an overly breathy imitation of you. “Please, Eddie? Please, can we go to the party? I’ll let you eat me out from the back if you—”

“Stifle,” you hissed, jamming your elbow into his stomach.

He grunted at the sharp jab, but his lips remained curled in a sly smirk. “What’s wrong? Worried your little crush will find out what I’ve been doing to you after he goes home?”

“I don’t care if he knows,” you sniped. It’s almost convincing, but the flash of alarm in your eyes told a different story. Not that it mattered, Eddie didn’t buy it for a second anyway.

“Well, that’s good,” he tutted. “Because he already knows we’ve fucked.”

“Wait, what?” You whirled around fully now. “How?”

“He, ahh…” Eddie fought to contain his grin as he scratched at the short stubble on his cheek. “He saw that picture you let me take.”

Your eyes went wide, both horrified and enraged as you shoved his shoulder—hard.

“You showed it to him?”

“No, he found it,” Eddie hissed. “We were looking around for some weed I had stashed and he happened to open the drawer it was in.”

Your whole body—your very being—surged with white hot shame. If it wouldn’t have given Eddie so much satisfaction, you might have run straight out of the party right then and there. The thought of Steve seeing you like that…

It was almost unbearable.

The details of you and Eddie’s attachment had always been strictly under wraps. You weren’t exactly keeping it a secret, per se, but most people weren’t super accepting of the idea and you’d learned to play it close to the vest. And with how much time the two of you had started spending with Steve, you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.

It had been going on for ages. Pausing, albeit briefly, if one of you found yourself in a relationship, and picking right back up when said relationship inevitably fizzled or if it tipped into the dangerous territory of getting too serious. He was one of the few people in your life you trusted intrinsically, and it wasn’t like guys were banging down your door as it was.

The picture was a one-time thing—a polaroid you’d let Eddie snap as a belated birthday present because you’d been too busy to find him something real. You had made him swear upon pain of death it was for his eyes only. And now he’d shown it to the last person on earth you wanted to see it? Oh, you were going to garrotte him with tinsel in his sleep.

Also, Steve wasn’t your crush. He was…a preoccupation. A distraction. A vague interest.

You couldn’t even say for sure when it had begun. All you knew was just last spring, there was a month of Friday evenings where you found yourself back in the Hawkins High parking lot pulled in alongside Steve’s distinctive maroon beemer. He was leaning on the hood, waiting for Hellfire to let out so he could drive home his little horde of nuggets, and you had shown up acting as Eddie’s ride while his van was out of commission.

And that night, for the first time ever, you had a real conversation with Steve Harrington.

A fairly illuminating one, at that.

There was a sweetness to him you never would have guessed was there. And a dorkiness that brought light to his eyes when he did his elaborate handshake with Dustin Henderson, or the way he exalted along with the kids when the group burst through the double doors leading out of the school, whooping and cheering from a successful campaign. It warmed your whole body from the inside out, the feeling only growing stronger the more time you shared.

And now he’d seen your bare tits covered in Eddies cum. Perfect, just perfect.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered through gritted teeth. “That’s so humiliating.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I think he kinda liked it.”

“He…he did?”

“I mean, he was staring at it pretty hard. I think he needed some alone time with it.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his shoulder another shove for good measure, muttering a you're disgusting at him under your breath, hoping it would hide the nerves creeping across your face. Unfortunately, it only seemed to add fuel to Eddie’s fire. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gritty rasp in your ear that made shivers run down your spine.

“So you don’t wanna know what he said, then?”

Tension seized your shoulders as you glared at him, jaw clenched, ready to spit back a vicious comment—or maybe just spit—only to stop short at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, guys! I’m so glad you made it!”

Steve was beaming as he came over, his bright hazel eyes shining, the golden flecks in them brought out by the color of his sweater. He drew you into his embrace, his strong arms curling securely around your body and his gourmand scent filling your nose as you breathed him in.

Your hands smoothed over the planes of his back, relishing in the softness of the knit he wore and the solidity of his broad chest pressed against yours. Your pulse quickened, blood pounding in your ears as you did your level best to force what Eddie had just told you out of your head.

“I’m the coat check tonight,” Steve explained, tipping an imaginary cap. “There’s a guest room upstairs we can put them in.”

“I gotta take a leak,” Eddie said, already shrugging off his leather jacket and pushing it into your arms. “Take care of that for me, will you sweetheart?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Eddie just grinned back at you with a suggestive bounce of his brows behind his curled bangs. Steve pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then turned straight back to you as he tilted his head upstairs.

“Shall we?” he asked.

The sounds of the party became distant and muffled as Steve led you upstairs to the designated dumping ground for all the furs and wraps of the numerous guests. It was dark inside, lit only by the moonlight that streamed through the window and the warm glow of the lights strung on the outside of the house that cast across the heap of coats on the bed.

You laid Eddie’s jacket down on a chair in the corner before you began to undo the belt of your own tied around your waist. As the thick, gray poly-blend slid off your shoulders, you shivered at the cool air hitting your heated skin for the first time that night.

When you turned back around, Steve was much closer than you remembered.

His eyes studied you with a kind of reverence that made your body tingle with excitement in a way you didn’t dare to name. The way he looked at you sometimes…whether it through a haze of pot smoke in Eddie’s trailer, or in the flickering light of a screen at the multiplex, or beneath the harsh amber wash of a single streetlight in an empty parking lot…

It made you wonder.

“You look really nice,” he finally said, his voice as soft as his eyes.

The dress you’d worn was fairly simple, made of maroon velour with a burnout pattern of leaves you thought looked a bit like holly. It was loose and flowy, but had laces in the back you had pulled tight so it cinched in your waist and pushed up your chest, not unlike a corset. The neckline was just low enough to flirt with impropriety and it nicely complimented the length of the pendant that sat in the center of your clavicle.

A dainty (fake) gold snowflake you thought was festive.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice even softer than his as you folded your arms in front of your stomach. “I hope it’s okay. I don’t have a lot of nice outfits.”

Steve shook his head, captivated eyes still scanning over you. They landed briefly on your legs, the black stockings you’d worn in an attempt to stave off the cold now prickling warm on your skin as if it was his hands running over them instead of just his gaze.

“You always look perfect,” he said.

It’s not just the words that made you falter, but the plainness with which he states them. As if it’s something obvious. As though he thinks it all the time and he just happened to say it this time. It makes your stomach twirl and all at once, you feel like an empty-headed teenager standing at her locker, dizzy from being complimented by the cutest boy in school.

“So, this is quite a spectacle,” you chuckled, glad for the dimness of the room that somewhat hid your reaction to him. “Are there any poinsettias left in Hawkins?”

Steve smirked and took a careful step forward. There was only about a foot of space between you now, if that. “I think if there were, my mom would already have a guy on it,” he said.

Your eyes met his and you shared a soft laugh. “Well, it’s really beautiful,” you sighed. “It must have taken her ages to do all this.”

“Not really,” Steve chuckled. “She has, like, a whole team that comes in and puts it all together.”

“Oh, right. Of course.” Your gaze dropped and you gave a regretful shake of your head. Rich people stuff, you thought a bit bitterly. No wonder that hadn’t occurred to you. “But…you must decorate the tree together, at least. Right?”

“No, they do that too. I’ve, uh…I’ve never actually never decorated a tree for Christmas. I kind of thought that was just something they did in movies.”

He huffed out a laugh, trying to hide the sadness that had started to pollute his smile, and rubbed the back of his head, tugging at the hair there that curled along the nape of his neck.

All you could do was stare.

You thought about that gleaming, twelve-foot behemoth downstairs with its dazzling lights and ornaments all spaced and hung so perfectly. It was stunning—looked like something straight out of a magazine. But now it was tinged with something hollow and unsatisfactory.

Cold. Fake. Empty.

It was you who stepped closer this time, the muscles in your arm tensing as if fighting against your brain’s instructions to reach out and touch him. He was close enough now you could feel the warmth coming off his body and smell the spice of his cologne and the clove cigarette he must have smoked. Your lips trembled, parted slightly, still searching for what to say.

But words refused to come.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Steve soothed, flashing you that easy and charming smile you’d grown to love and loathe in equal measure. “I just meant, like, Christmas really isn’t a big deal to me. And neither is this party, honestly, but…”

He fell silent as his hand reached out to squeeze your elbow, the soft pad of his thumb rubbing gently across your forearm. You stared mutely at his hand where it rested, already dreading how cold it would feel there when he let go of you. Except he didn’t.

“I’m really happy you’re here, though,” he said.

Steve’s chest rose with a sharp inhale and the tip of his tongue swiped along his bottom lip to wet it. His head tilted towards you, a few stray pieces of hair falling into his eyes that were bright and shiny with the string lights around the window reflecting in them.

It made your own breath catch, praying you weren’t imagining it as he started to lean in.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

You and Steve flew apart like shrapnel, both of you too wrapped up in the steady draw of your bodies together to notice the heavy thump of Eddie’s footsteps in the hall. Steve’s hand came up automatically to run through his hair, dragging up the bottom of his sweater and flashing the briefest glimpse of torso as his arm lifted. It made your mouth dry as a bone.

“I just realized I forgot about my hostess gift,” Eddie said.

His brow cocked at you and yet another little smirk curved along his lips as he brushed past, nudging you ever so subtly back in Steve’s direction. He then started to rifle through the inside pockets of his leather jacket until he exhumed a plastic bag with a few joints inside.

“Got it!” he chimed, holding it up triumphantly. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

The little baggie sailed through the air, crinkling when it hit Steve in the center of his chest.

“Oh! Thanks, man,” he chuckled, fumbling to catch it. “That’s great.”

Turning it over in his hands, he paused, mulling in silence as he stared down at the joints and glanced over his shoulder at the open doorway. From downstairs, you could now hear the faint tinkling of a piano being played and Eddie noticeably winced at the first few warbled notes of an unrecognizable carol being sung by a particularly drunk chorus.

“You know,” Steve said slowly. “We could bail on the party. Take this out to the pool house?”

As soon as he asked, his eyes darted up to meet yours—interrupting your intense study of the side of his face. Round and hopeful, they shone with his earnestness and you felt dizzy all over again. It made your brain scramble, trying to act like you weren’t just consumed by thoughts of what might or might not have been about to happen. You smiled.

“What are we waiting for?”

Steve left the lights off in the pool house, not wanting to draw too much attention if someone wandered onto the patio for some fresh air. The three of you made your way out in shifts—you with a plate of decadent treats you’d filled from the long table of desserts, Eddie with one loaded with food he’d swiped from the circulating trays, and Steve with a bottle of champagne he’d snuck out of the kitchen while the caterers were distracted.

The satisfying pop of its opening bounced off the walls that were mostly windows, sounding all the more illicit and clandestine in the darkness. The contents of the bottle fizzed as he held it out, offering you the first swig, and you took it with a nimble grasp.

Bubbly liquid splashed on your tongue and the dry, almost acidic, taste of it surely would have impressed someone with a more refined palette. But it made you wrinkle your nose as you squinted to read the French name scrawled in a loopy script on the shield shaped label.

“Gross, right?” Steve chuckled as you handed the bottle back. “But it gets the job done.”

He took a deep swig, head tipping back and giving you a long, long moment to study his neck as the muscles flexed with his swallow. You stared shamelessly, transfixed by the pairs of moles that sat along the line of his strong jaw, head empty of thoughts except how much better thechampagne would taste if you were licking it from his lips.

Eddie coughed, all loud and fake, drawing both of your eyes to him where he sat on a rattan sofa in the center of the room. He stared at you expectantly as he slouched down further in his seat, his knees spread wide and his arms draped across the back. He’d wasted no time making himself more comfortable, loosening the evergreen tie you’d made him wear and rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt he normally only broke out for funerals or the odd court appearance.

“Don’t I get some of that?” he asked with a wry smirk.

Steve hurried to offer him the champagne, wiping away a little dribble of it that had started to trickle down his chin. You followed behind and slotted into a chair adjacent to Eddie’s as Steve handed off the bottle, making your brain short circuit when you saw the way his wide grasp nearly engulfed the entire bottom. It didn’t restart until he settled in the seat next to you.

After taking his sip, Eddie sparked up one of the joints and started it in a rotation along with the champagne. After only a few pulls from each you started to feel the effects, your head getting all light and floaty, your body warming from the blood pumping through you, your skin buzzing from the way your fingers kept brushing Steve’s whenever you passed him the joint or the bottle.

Or maybe it was from the way his eyes lingered on yours when you did.

Eventually, you dropped out of the rotation and sank back in your chair to gaze up at the house. The whole thing seemed to glow with the warmth of the party within, its windows bright yellow, the lights twinkling on the eaves. And the snowfall had remained soft and steady, dusting everything with a fine layer of white like powdered sugar.

The picture was immaculate, like a life-size snow globe. If Steve’s mother had somehow managed to pay Mother Nature as a decorator, it wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest.

“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie snorted, evidently sharing in your bewilderment. “If all this is just the weekend before, I’m scared to ask what your family does for the main event.”

A deep chuckle bubbled out of his chest as he took a long swig of the rapidly draining bottle. He’d said it mostly as a joke, but Steve’s reaction revealed a nerve had been struck. He began to cough, sputtering out his words as he pulled the smoldering joint from between his lips.

“Oh no, it’s not—they aren’t, uh…they won’t be here.”

His eyes darted to the floor as he shook his head and stammered out his non-answer, wearing that same look on his face you’d seen in the guest room. Half-sad and trying to hide it.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked. Steve just shrugged.

“They always go away for Christmas. I think it’s St. Barts this year. Maybe Turks and Caicos? Their flight is sometime tomorrow night.”

“Wait, so…they just leave you here?” you asked. “By yourself?”

Steve shrugged and shook his head again, the move almost reflexive, like flinching away from the sting of alcohol cleaning a fresh wound. “A nanny would stay with me when I was little. But from the time I was old enough…yeah, pretty much.”

You and Eddie’s eyes met, the same unthinkable thought seemingly crossing your minds. You actually felt bad—not just bad, but sad—for Steve Harrington.

“It’s not so bad, seriously,” he said, all flustered trying to salvage the mood. “I just hang out and watch movies and eat pizza. It’s fun. Honest.”

Despite his attempts, you can’t help but frown as you think what Steve’s Christmas will look like. His big house that was bursting at the seams with people right now being cold and desolate; him sitting all alone at a long dining room table eating leftover appetizers for every meal.

The thought tugged at something buried deep inside you. Something you’d packed away long ago and shoved into the furthest recesses of your mind. A box wrapped and taped and stapled and tied shut and then shoved behind a closet door. It made you turn to look at Eddie and he nodded knowingly, needing no words to know what you wanted him to say.

“You should come over,” he said, speaking so suddenly it came out loud in the tense quiet.

Steve’s head lifted. “What?”

“To me and Wayne’s,” Eddie supplied. “For Christmas Eve. We have dinner together and watch old movies and play games and shit. With this one.”

He jerked his thumb at you and you smiled as Steve’s eyes flitted over to meet your gaze.

“Only because they can’t cook to save their lives,” you said, shooting him a wink that made the corners of his mouth curl upwards.

“It’s not gonna be like this,” Eddie assured. “But it’s something, you know?”

“That, um…” Steve looked down at his lap, his long lashes fluttering as he tried to blink back the beginnings of tears. “That sounds really nice.”

Your hand moved without permission, reaching out to close around his wrist and squeeze. Steve’s head turned, staring at it like he thought he was dreaming. And as your brain suddenly caught up with the action and your body flooded with embarrassment, you started to pull it back only to feel the warmth of his palm covering your hand to hold it in place.

The only sound in the room was yours and Steve’s soft breathing and you swore you could feel the way both of your pulses were racing in time. His eyes lifted to meet yours and you became entranced all over again by his handsome face, the freckles that dotted his tanned skin, hazel eyes that shimmered as he scanned your expression, the deepness of his cupid's bow.

“I, um…I should check in with my mom real quick. You guys, uh…sit tight.”

Steve sputtered out his words as he rose to his feet, leaving your skin cold as he pulled his hands from yours. He looked around, his eyes searching to land on anything besides you or Eddie as he turned and stumbled towards the door. Eddie watched you watch Steve leave, an expression on his face as bemused as it was mocking.

“Jesus Christ, you two are exhausting.”

He shook his head, laughing to himself as he stuffed the last of the appetizers in his mouth. You glared back at him as he chewed and tried not to think about how your hand still burned where the ghost of Steve’s warmth remained.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. If I knew I was gonna have to watch you make googly-eyes at each other all night, I could have stayed home. I get enough of that as it is.”

“We’re not—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Eddie scoffed. “You are. He is. Just make a move, already.”

It was actually painful rolling your eyes as hard as you did. “Right. Sure. And what kind of move am I supposed to make? Considering how he ran out of here just because I touched his arm?”

“You’re not serious, are you? You’re pulling my dick, right?”

Eddie hunched forward as you deadpanned him, answering with a slow blink of your eyes and humorless expression until he threw his head back in a loud laugh.

“He had a fucking boner, smartass!” he cackled.

It’s not only your cheeks that warm now, but your whole body igniting like a bonfire. The feeling grips your shoulders, it’s talons digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce it to the bone.

“Bullshit,” you whispered, your mind reeling.

“You think I don’t know Steve well enough to know when he goes from six to midnight? It happens literally any time you touch him.”

Eddie was still snickering to himself as he took a final puff of the joint that had been smoked down to a nub. You stared at your hands in your lap, thoughts going into overdrive. Because this wasn’t just some random guy at the Hideout or an ex-classmate hitting on you at a house party. This wouldn’t be just a fumbled touch, grabby hands groping blindly in a dark closet that you would recount to Eddie before he gave you the orgasm you’d sorely been denied.

This was Steve. This would be something. Wouldn’t it?

“Only one way to find out,” Eddie said, as though he could hear the question you were asking yourself. “Anything’s gotta be better than this.”

“But what if he—”

The rattle of the doorknob cut you off, your eyes darted to the door just as Steve pushed it open to slip back inside. Eddie’s dark curls fell forward, sliding off his shoulders as he leaned in.

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.

Your eyes bulged in your skull, but before you could retort or argue, Steve had plopped back down in the chair next to you and your lips were effectively sealed.

“So the singing is still going on,” he chuckled. “But I think everyone will head home soon. We aren’t missing much.”

“That’s okay.” Eddie groaned softly into a stretch as he settled back into his reclined position. “I’m sure we can think of something to do.”

Heat flooded your core at his insinuating tone and you sat up a little straighter. He let his head loll to the side, his eyes finding yours automatically, dark irises glinting in the scant light.

“Hey…c’mere, doll.”

Eddie shifted down in his seat, rubbing his ringed hand across his thigh as an invitation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the fancy, and surely expensive, champagne you’d been sipping all night. Maybe it was the way Steve’s gaze followed you so intently as you stood and walked over to where Eddie sat on the wicker sofa. Whatever it was, it was working.

You laid your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you kneeled on the cushion next to him and went to straddle his lap. But his hands came up to grip your waist and stopped you.

“Uh-uh,” he said, motioning his index finger in a circle. “Other way.”

You hesitated, glancing from your crouched position over at Steve. His eyes smoldered in the darkness as he watched you—leaning forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, his long fingers laced in front of him. With a hard swallow, you stood and turned.

Eddie jerked you back against him, roughly pulling you flush with his chest. His knees pushed between your own and he spread them wide so your legs were held open, draped over the tops of his thighs. It made the skirt of your dress glide upwards, hem skimming the tops of your stockings, threatening to reveal the strips of bare skin between them and your panties.

His words from earlier still rang in your head. Follow my lead.

Well-worn hands splayed wide across your stomach, squeezing at the softness of your waist. Beneath you, his hips began to shift and the beginnings of his hard-on pressed insistently into the fat of your ass. It made you shiver all over, a gasp falling from your lips.

“So well behaved,” Eddie hummed, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips, suddenly gripping your chin in his hand to turn your face towards him. “She’s such a good girl, Stevie…. and we have so much fun together…”

The words and the deep timbre of his voice sent more shivers down your spine as he bumped the tip of your nose with his own. He pecked lightly at your lips until they opened up for him, his tongue probing the warm cavern of your mouth until you were moaning into his kiss.

It was lazy, but punishing. He nipped gently at your top lip, his own feathering with a tiny snarl as he revered back to his conversation with Steve.

“Why don’t you tell her about that photo you found?” he asked, hot breath fanning across your cheek. “Tell her what you thought about it.”

Your gaze flashed to Steve’s and you wondered if there was more light in here whether you’d be able to see a rush of scarlet covering his cheeks. His eyes had gone round with nervous energy, but they remained locked onto yours as he spoke.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he rasped, his voice almost cracking his throat was so tight. “I wish I could see it again, I…I wish it was me she’d done that for.”

The pit of your belly burned at his words, a breathy sigh fluttering in your chest and an exquisite ache now radiating between your legs. Eddie’s fingers trailed along the center of your body, over your sternum, tracing the dip of your navel through your dress until it quivered under his touch.

Slowly, he drew up the bottom of your dress like a curtain to reveal your core and the black lace your arousal had begun to seep through. The tips of his fingers stroked your entrance, mercilessly teasing your second set of lips.

“You wouldn’t believe how good she feels, Steve,” Eddie husked, his fingers holding their pace, making you grind into his lap. “Way better than that prissy cheerleader pussy you’re used to.”

The room filled with the sound of your breath and the wet schlick of Eddie’s fingers in your folds.

“Oh, sorry,” Eddie snickered. “I should say honor society pussy.”

Steve’s nostrils suddenly flared, his gaze tearing away from you and your body as if coming out of a trance. You looked back over your shoulder with a horrified look.

“Eddie—”

“Shush,” he snapped, cutting you off by plunging his fingers inside of you. They hooked upwards and your back bowed at the sudden stretch, a broken moan slipping past your lips. Steve’s eyes were drawn to your face at the sound, Eddie’s mention of his ex flying right out of his head.

“You want a taste, Harrington?” he asked, all dark and leading.

A little whimper escaped you at the thought and Eddie grinned wickedly. He smiled as he kissed the back of your neck, his teeth flashing as he nipped at your racing pulse.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? You’d like his tongue?”

“Y-yes,” you gasped, your eyes darting to find Steve’s. “Please.”

At your plaintive mewl, the very moment you asked, Steve instantly rose to his feet and hurried to kneel between yours and Eddie’s spread legs. His long fingers wrapped around the gusset of your underwear and he wrenched them to the side to reveal your dripping core.

He licked his lips as he stared at it, practically salivating. Your own lips trembled, fighting back the urge to cry out for him as you let your head fall back to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

The wet heat of his tongue met your pussy in long, languid swipes. He nodded his head with each motion, dragging it through your folds as he inhaled deep and needy breaths of your scent like you were his air. His eyes burned with lust as he looked up from between your thighs, gauging your every reaction in the way you fluttered around his tongue.

With a trembling hand, you reached out and brushed your fingertips along his brow, skimming the stray pieces of hair that had fallen forward into his eyes. The intensity of his stare, the depth of his gaze, made you glow brighter even than that behemoth of a tree inside.

He sped up his movements, working you up, the tip of his tongue pointed to swirl in a pattern as magical as it was maddening, flicking it teasingly over your clit and making you clench with each too-quick pass. At the same time, you felt Eddie’s hand creep up between your shoulder blades, fingers weaving into your hair to grasp it at the root. He gave it a firm tug and pulled your head back, bringing his lips to your ear so he could whisper to you—deep and rough and just loud enough for Steve to hear.

“Why don’t you tell him how long you’ve wanted this, huh?”

Another pitiful whimper left your lips as Eddie’s other hand squeezed a little more intensely at your chest, tweaking your nipple through your dress, loving how it made you tremble.

“Si-since Junior year,” you panted. “When he w-won the state swim meet…”

Just the thought of that day nearly has you flooding Eddie’s lap and Steve’s mouth. Your mind filled with the memories of it—visions of him in a Speedo that confirmed just about every rumor you’d ever overheard in the girl’s locker room; his arm and back muscles rippling as he pushed himself out of the pool; water spilling over freckled skin, droplets collecting on his shoulders and running down, down, down to where the small of his back met the fullness of his ass.

You had sat in the stands, thighs pressing together, feeling almost perverted staring while he celebrated with his teammates and whipped off his swim cap, his wild hair exploding out of it and making you wonder how he’d even managed to fit it all underneath in the first place.

The mere mention of his glory days seemed to have a similar effect on Steve. The movements of his tongue and lips turned more fervent, more determined to unspool you as he moaned like he’d never tasted anything as good as you.

Tremors began to roll through your body, making your thighs twitch and spasm.

“Tell him how good it feels,” Eddie husked, hips now punching up to create some friction against his own cock as it strained inside his dress pants. “Tell him how much you like it.”

“Yes, Steve, fuck—I love it so much,” you whined. “Keep going, I need it.”

The pretty lilt and waver of your voice had Steve unraveling before your very eyes. Another low groan rumbled from deep in his chest and he buried his face further, more eagerly, in your heat.

“God, you taste so fucking good, honey,” he moaned. “I could do this all night.”

The thought of having his mouth on you all night is enthralling, but there was no way you would last. You were barely going to make it another minute as it was. Steve was too good.

Every flick, every swipe, every swirl of his tongue you could feel in your entire body. Pleasure rushed across you in waves, a torturous winding upwards, that burning feeling deep in your gut coiling tighter, tighter. Your breaths grew shallow and your pulse raced until you were shaking in Eddie’s lap, fighting so hard to keep your legs spread apart that they shook from the effort.

Steve’s hands came up to grasp at your thighs, his fingers squeezing at the meat of them as he kept you pried open for him to ravish. Like a man possessed, he lapped and sucked and kissed at your entrance, his whole body seeming to move along with the motions of his tongue and lips. Beneath you, the wicker couch suddenly slid backwards and you realized it was because he had tried to grind against it—desperate to feel something, anything, against his cock.

Wishing it was you.

“C-close, close, I’m so close. Steve, I’m co—oohhh—”

Your orgasm rushed in, plowing through your body, making you lose all sense. You squirmed wildly in Eddie’s lap, almost having forgotten he was there until he reached around to give both of your nipples one last pinch—knowing how it always pushed you further over the edge.

Steve’s lips never left your clit and his eyes never left your face as he ushered you into your climax. He stared up at you, his eyes all glassy and round, searching for your reassurance as he rose from between your legs. His face hovered in front of yours and he lifted a hand to cup your jaw, his massive palm warm on your flushed skin as you panted to regain your breath.

“Good?” he asked. Hushed, like a prayer.

“So good,” you exhaled, chest still heaving. Your voice wobbled as you spoke, so overwhelmed with all your buried feelings being dredged to the surface. “Steve, that was—”

“Steven? Are you out here?”

Every hair on Steve’s head went flying as he whipped his head around hearing his mother’s voice. Through the sheer curtains, he could see her as she stepped outside onto the porch, peering into the darkness, wrapping a fur stole tighter around her elegant cocktail attire.

Panic struck his face like lightning, his mouth hanging open, his lips and chin still shiny with your spend. He looked back at you, his cheeks nearly as deep red as the velvet ribbons hung all over his house. You scrambled off Eddie’s lap to stand, frantically straightening your dress and hair, nervously wiping at your lips that were swollen from biting down when you came.

“I, um…the party’s probably over,” Steve said. “I just have to say goodbye to some people.”

He ran his hands through his hair a few more times as he strode towards the door, even though any damage you’d done grabbing it must have been righted by now. You looked over at Eddie, your own eyes swirling with questions you were terrified to hear the answers to.

His shoulders bounced, standing to tuck his shirttail back into his dress pants.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.”.

Steve was waiting in the foyer with you and Eddie’s coats when you snuck in from outside. His parents, thankfully, were too occupied giving the caterers instructions for clean-up to exchange any pleasantries at the door. You could only imagine how that would go…

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington. I’m the girl your son made come all over his face in your pool house. What a lovely party, thank you so much for inviting us.

There was still a smile on Steve’s face, though it felt almost pasted on now compared to his expression when you first arrived, sort of forced in an attempt to look more normal than he felt. He handed off Eddie’s leather jacket and then held yours open, his eyes remaining glued to you as you turned and pushed your arms through the sleeves. His fingertips trailed along the nape of your neck as he helped straighten the coat on your shoulders, his index tracing its curve all the way to your hairline in a way that felt so intentional it made your skin buzz.

With your ears pounding from your heartbeat thundering in them, you spun around to face him, your lips parted to speak only for no words to come. Because what was there for you to say? Or for him to do? Kiss you? He hadn’t even done that during, would he do it now to say goodbye?

Steve’s handsome face was as conflicted and contorted as your own. A faint blush still dusted along his cheeks and his eyes shone bright from the candlelight coming off the tapers that had burned almost all the way out. At last he drew a breath, and you felt your heart stutter.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly.

Eddie could barely contain the snort that burst out of him, even as he slapped a hand over his crooked smile and your eyes shot daggers straight into his chest.

You couldn’t get out the door fast enough.

There was only silence as the pair of you trudged along the driveway to the street where Eddie had parked his van, the snow on the ground having melted into slush mottled with gray where it mixed with excess oil on the road. Without the glow of the Christmas lights coming off the rest of the houses in the neighborhood, the darkness of Steve’s street now felt oppressive.

It made you walk a little quicker to the van, your hand curled tight around the passenger side door handle waiting for Eddie to unlock it. As the two of you climbed inside the cab, he cranked the engine and flipped open the air vents for the heat to blast, finally breaking his silence as you yanked your door shut behind you with a sharp tug.

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I thought I was helping,” Eddie muttered, his hands gripping tight around the steering wheel. “You were being so fucking obvious, I thought you needed a push.”

His chunky rings glinted in the street light as he busied himself messing with the radio, static scratching in your ears as he searched for something besides Christmas music.

“Are you really mad?” he asked, still fiddling with the dial, barely able to look at you.

You shook your head.

“I just…I don’t know, I feel like it’s weird now.” You let your face fall into your hands and shook your head furiously. “I mean, was that totally fucked up? To do that?”

“Nah, that wasn’t fucked up,” Eddie said assuredly.

He sounded confident enough that you let your shoulders actually relax and finally expelled the breath you were holding. The relief was short-lived though, when Eddie piped up again.

“I’ll tell you what might be, though.”

With a heavy sigh, you looked over at him warily. “What?” you asked.

Eddie sighed as he slumped back against the seat. His foot rested on the gas pedal and he pressed it down lightly, barely revving the engine to get some hot air flowing from the vents.

“When he comes over for Christmas Eve.”

Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate any time taken to read/comment endlessly ♥️

Started on this last year in December so that should tell you everything you need to know about my writing process. Enjoy some Christmas in whatever-month-you’re-reading-this. 😉

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic

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filmbyjy · 2 months

Note

Hehe imma send multiple

Maybe something like bf Jungwon & y/n being shy w skin ship but like both of y’all are clingy idk how to explain it

HOLD ME TIGHT

a/n: why is this me. like I am clingy but I am so shy on skinship and plus I constantly overthink things😪 also so sorry if this was bad 😭

both you and jungwon were currently at a cat cafe. since, you wanted to play around with the cats. jungwon nuzzles his nose right on the kitten in his hands. He smiles and continues to do so over and over again as the kitten attempts to lick his nose. All of this happening right in front of you and you can’t help but feel a little sad.

well the better term would be jealousy. as you could say since the kitten was pretty much getting his attention way more than you. you were just a witness to the cute action that was happening in front of you. you craved for this type of cute affection with jungwon. however, you weren't that brave to voice out your own thoughts.

while other couples in public could easily display affection, you can't help but get shy over it. it made you feel disappointed in yourself. why couldn't you over come this awkward feeling. you had a boyfriend that was probably more than ready to give you affection you craved but you always hesitated to do so.

"(name), look. this kitten keeps meowing back whenever i meow." jungwon calls out, seemingly pulling you out of your small bubble of thoughts.

he meows and the kitten meows back. he laughs before pecking the kitten's small head. oh how adorable he was. you didn't understand his cute little tangents he liked to go on whenever you two hang out. sometimes, you even wondered if he was a cat. he seemed so...cat-like and playful.

you opened your mouth to say something but nothing really comes out, it was like the words that you wanted to express to him were not coming out. "jungwon?"

he hums, "yes, baby?" he continues to give the kitten a little more attention but stops a to look up at you.

"i- nevermind." he could sense the slight hesitation in your voice and so he carefully puts the kitten down.

"is there something wrong?"

"it's nothing. just something stupid." you brushed it off but jungwon goes to hold your hand which he rarely does since he too was shy with skinship. this was a big step that jungwon took and it was completely out of concern and love.

"tell me, i want to know whenever you're struggling." he lightly squeezes your hand. his adorable cat-like eyes staring into yours.

"i- can we cuddle?" you hesitantly voiced out.

"of course, we're dating. why can't we do that?"

"i know but...i'm scared that you might not want to cuddle. besides, we are still early in our relationship." you pout.

jungwon tilts his head. "are you kidding me? of course i do. you're my girlfriend. i wanna cuddle with you."

"what if you don't like it?"

jungwon playfully scoffs, "how could i hate anything about you? you're just saying random things now." he gets closer to your face. "i like everything about you. now, will you let me be your first ever official cuddle buddy?"

you nod and so jungwon goes to wrap his arms around you. you laid your head against his chest as the multiple cats were lazing around the both of you. jungwon's heart beats were calming. it actually made you sleepy. you could feel jungwon leave a small little peck on your forehead. just a light one.

"we should back to your home. you look tired." jungwon whispers.

"mmm, we should." you tiredly mumbled.

and so you and jungwon went back to your apartment.

"we're taking steps to our relationship. i'm proud of you for voicing out what you want to do." jungwon says.

"i tried to. i don't know if i'll be ready to fully voice out. after all, you are my first boyfriend and the only person i've done some sort of affection."

"don't worry, if you can't do it. i'll initiate it first. i tried my best today too. i'm not that great at showing affection too." jungwon admits.

"really?"

he hums, "yeah, i usually some sort don't do affection. you can ask the hyungs. they probably can tell you about it."

you blushed. "so this is a first time for you too?"

"yup. honestly, i think i'll do my best. i wanna see you blush and get flustered more often. it's cute." you groaned at jungwon's words. "that blush is reserved only for me, right?"

"yes." you looked away from him. jungwon laughs.

"good. now, let's get you to sleep. my little princess."

my little princess...

you liked the ring to it. jungwon's little princess. you couldn't wait to see how the next few months and even years would go with him.

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pedroshotwifey · 1 month

Text

Should've Stayed Bored

Please understand that this is a crack fic based on this post by @bonezone44 and the comments made by @covetyou on said post ) Also tagging other commenters on that post: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog snowflake-blog@bubble-pop-eclectic @lunitawrites

Pairing: Chump!Joel Miller × fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags/Warnings: Joel Miller NOT being a sex god, left flap rubbing, mention of the clit, piv sex (if you could call it that), premature ejaculation, age gap, dad's buddy!joel miller, bad make out sessions, misplaced confidence, secondhand embarrassment, crack fic

Summary: You really need to learn to lower your expectations.

A/N: I actually had a great time writing this and think it turned out really fucking funny.

A/N pt. 2: Well, the og post got fucking deleted, but here it is again. Fucking pissed. I would really appreciate any interaction even if you already did the first time just so I can get it back out there </3

special thanks to @romanarose, @wannab-urs, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, and everyone else who helped me calm my tits and post this again. Love y'all ❤

*****

You’re bored out of your fucking mind. You’ve had four drinks and have walked in and out of the house probably a dozen times. For a neighborhood barbeque, it’s uneventful as hell. You would think that there would at least be a few interesting people out of so many. But no. So far there’s a group of old ladies gathered around the pool in sun chairs, their husbands around the grill talking about sports, and some kids—probably grandkids—running rampant around the yard.

That’s what your dad gets for moving into a retiree neighborhood. There’s only a few other households you know of that don’t host couples in their late sixties. Kind of like, speak of the devil, the Millers, who are walking in through the yard gate right now.

It’s only the two of them—Joel and his daughter, Sarah, who is only about eight. She runs off to go play with the other kids and you smile as you spot Joel struggling to carry a bowl and latch the gate back at the same time. You immediately take the opportunity to walk toward him.

You’ve always had your eyes on Joel Miller, even though he’s only a few years younger than your father. He’s a DILF in all ways that count. Sweet, responsible, and hot as hell.

“Hey, Mr. Miller,” you grab his attention as you reach where he’s still trying to balance everything. His face lights up when he sees you coming to help.

“Hey, darlin’, you don’t mind helpin’ me with this, do ya?” he nods his head to the gate.

“Nope, not at all,” you say sweetly as you get the gate latched behind him. He beams at you as he shifts to hold his dish with both hands. It looks heavy.

“Thank you. And please, call me Joel.” He flashes you a wink that makes your stomach flutter before he starts for the back door.

With nothing better to do, you follow him inside. He’s putting his bowl in the fridge when you close the door behind you and take a spot leaning against the counter. There’s nobody else inside right now, and you realize you might have just found your cure for boredom.

You slide up next to Joel as he stands up.

“What did you bring, Mr. Miller?” you ask him in an over the top sweet voice.

He shoots you a pointed look and takes a step back to put a few inches between the two of you.

“Potato salad,” he says flatly. “And please, it’s just Joel.”

“Well, Joel,” you take a step toward him again. “I’m bored.”

You swear you see him gulp, and you know you’ve got him right where you want him. He glances out the window, probably looking for your dad manning the grill.

“Darlin’,” he says in warning. “I’m sure you can find something out there to do.”

You pout at him. “But I found something to do in here.”

“Honey, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No?” you banter. “You don’t want to fuck me, Joel? I see the way you look at me.”

He surges forward, trapping you against the counter. You smile wildly at him and throw your arms around his neck.

“Get your ass upstairs, now,” he growls. “Strip and wait on your bed.”

Your pussy flutters at his command, excitement building in your stomach.

“Yes, Mr. Miller. Don’t be long.” You flash him a wink and slide from in front of him to make your way upstairs. You feel his eyes on you until you reach the top step.

He only waits a little while, presumably to cover his bases so it doesn’t look like he’s sneaking off with his friend’s much-too-young daughter, before following you up. And by that time, you’re already naked and sitting on your bed.

He comes in and shuts the door behind him, making sure it’s locked tightly before turning around. Your eyes go to the massive tent in his pants, your tongue coming out to wet your lips.

“You’re fuckin gorgeous, darlin’,” he says as he takes a step toward you, already starting to unbuckle his jeans. He pulls his heavy cock out and your lips part. You’d expected him to be big, but holy shit.

“C’mon, baby, lay back for me.”

You let him push you down on your back, and then scootch up a bit so that you’re resting with your head on the pillows. Your body is practically humming with excitement and need. Being with an older man has always been something high up on your bucket list, because there’s no doubt they know how to properly pleasure a woman. And a man like Joel Miller…you can’t fucking wait.

He leans over you and takes your lips in a sloppy kiss. You wind your arms around him and arch your back, begging silently for him to touch you already. He slips his tongue inside your mouth, and your eyes widen.

He’s just…licking.

You find it really hot when a man uses his tongue to make out with you, but. Not like this. You rear your head back, trying to gain control of the kiss. But then his hand starts to trail down to your center and you decide, whatever, you can pick and choose your battles. You’ll let him do whatever the fuck he thinks he’s doing to your mouth as long as he gets those thick fingers inside of you already.

He trails down, down, oh, there, he pets your clit and you shiver, and then—

Then he continues down…and to the left.

He starts rubbing circles on your left flap, and you furrow your brows.

What the actual fuck??

You unwind your arms and start pushing on his chest until he pulls his tongue from your mouth to gaze down at you.

“Joel, you—”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ like that, don’t you, baby?”

You just blink at him. What?

He winks at you. “I know, darlin’, feels real good, huh?” He dips back down to start kissing you again, thankfully leaving his damn tongue out of it. His fingers increase pressure, which you can only guess would feel really good if he was actually rubbing your clit.

“Joel,” you mutter against his lips again, but it comes out smushed and smothered. Kind of like your poor pussy right now. Or the outside of it, at least.

“So impatient,” he laughs. “Hold on one second, baby, Mr. Miller’s got you.”

You resist the urge to cringe at that.

He taps your abused pussy lip twice and retracts his hand to grasp his cock, which you’re now worried about. Hopefully he knows how to fucking use that thing. He guides his tip to your entrance—or tries to, rather, and you groan in defeat. He rubs it up and down your slit, prodding every second or so.

“Yeah, baby, fuckin’ love those sounds you make for me.”

You just stare at him. You’re not going to even pretend. This is just insane. How the hell did he actually make a kid??

Finally, he finds your hole—the right one, thank god—and starts to push in. You’re still pretty wet from earlier, though you’re sure there will be no developments in that department. Thankfully, it’s enough to ease the stuttering glide.

Once he’s fully in, he starts to thrust, and you grip on to him, holding on to that last hope that maybe he can nail your g-spot with that weapon of his.

“M…Feel so g-good, baby,” Joel moans.

He thrusts once, twice, three times, moaning like a fucking animal.

And then he pulls out. And shakes above you as he spills his cum on your lower belly.

You stare at him in shock as he rolls over and collapses beside you. His eyes are closed as he pants and reaches a hand over you to touch your stomach.

“You came?” he asks.

You consider lying to him, but figure he doesn’t deserve that.

“No, Joel, I did not fucking come.”

“Oh, okay. Tha’s alright. Get you next time.”

You sit up and gape at him.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

He looks at you with confusion but gets up after a moment. He yawns, tucks himself into his pants, and struts for your door.

“Don’t be ashamed to ask for more, darlin’. I wouldn’t be opposed to doin’ this again sometime.” He sends you a wink and walks out of the room before you get the chance to say something you’ll regret more than whatever the fuck just happened.

You learned a valuabale lesson today: age really does not fucking matter.

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horus-unofficial · 4 months

Text

hello hello welcome welcome. welcome 2 the HORUS guide 4 HORUS tech aka horus-unofficial.tumblr3.un gives you extremely comprehensive and very useful insight into its "pattern groups" and "licenses". we are your host harold HORUS here today to talk to you about our beautiful darling cunt of a child, the LICH

nobody knows how the lich came 2 be. some buddies of ours say they invented it 9989 years from now which is weird bcos anyone normal would wait another decade before sending that shit back in time to hit that sweet 9999 and keep people guessing as to whether these files actually are from that far in the future, or if the lucky terminal receiving this code just stopped bothering to count the years after 15015u. either way, the lich is here now, and back then, and most certainly at some point in the future, and it kinda looks like we probably did invent it so that means we are in the clear to act like we're the ones who made it!

the lich sucks! its terrible! with glass bones and paper skin and a reactor that overheats at room temperature, a gust of wind could leave a dent in this PG's plating, which is made from samples of styrofoam and bubble wrap warped straight from the insides of pre-Fall packages labeled "FRAGILE, HANDLE WITH CARE" (a perfect bumper sticker for your lich, should you find yourself piloting one sometime within the next -50 to 250 years). you can tell no former members of harrison armory's R&D department were involved in the designing of the lich because the only thing those fuckers know how to do is create industrial microwaves, and the lich's reactor is the most slipshod, poorly-coded shit in the known universe. the only code regulating the lich's reactor is "reactor = cool" and not only are neither "reactor" nor "cool" defined anywhere in the system code, but HOR_OS doesn't even use = signs.

you may ask us, "if the lich is so shit, why do people pilot it?" and we are so glad you asked! generally speaking, answers to this question fall into one of two variations: - "it's a funny mech" - "why is everyone saying i pilot a lich??? i pilot a nelson!!! what do you mean that's my lich frame in the mech bay and i've had it for years, i literally don't have a single HORUS license, @horus-unofficial please advise"

the lich's victorian orphan-esque constitution aside, its biggest strength as a frame is likely its ability to send itself to the seaside for a much needed mental health break should it encounter the slightest hint of adversity on the battlefield. its no wonder the lich is so frail, the entirety of our nonexistent R&D budget went into making this thing the most annoying roleplayer on the playground. "you hit me with your sword? nuh-uh, i dodge. oh you run me through on your spear, killing me instantly? well it turns out that that body wasn't actually me, i've been dramatically looking down upon this duel from up there on those cliffs the whole time!" <- words most commonly spoken by future lich pilots at 11 years old

this allows it to be unexpectedly versatile in combat- with a refundable get out of jail free card and a maximum speed comparable to most of SSC's catalogue, it can weave through dangerous zones in combat with unexpected efficiency, allowing it to support allies from virtually any range, and instigate the occasional skirmish if its pilot is so inclined. we dont necessarily advise that you choose violence as a lich pilot, only that its a more viable choice of function than you might initially think

the lich plays with the timestream with the same enthusiasm as a preschooler in a sandbox, both in regards to itself and anything (un)fortunate enough to be within its sensor range. for every timeline where the lich is playing support for its allies and being so kind and niceys, there's another timeline where it gleefully tears into its adversaries until it overextends and dies respawns in another timeline, and it's through this universal law that an unusually principled lich pilot might find themselves taking a hit for its allies before immediately redeeming that get out of jail free card we mentioned earlier. of course, "principled HORUS pilot" is an oxymoron, so if your squad has a lich pilot what actually happens is more along the lines of being teamed with the biggest fucking nuisance on your planet, who pretends to toodle about the battlefield all combat because the truth is they've been stuck in a time loop for 7 years, and are well beyond the point of caring.

bottom line: if you encounter a lich in combat, dont even bother targeting it. it's unkillable except for when it isn't, and its banned from every omninet roleplay forum in the known universe for a reason

#lancerrpg #lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancer lich #ooc: something possessed me today i can't believe i just wrote 800 words bullying the lich

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xvysarene · 1 month

Text

𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝔹𝕠𝕟𝕕

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader Prompt: “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you.” Words: ~2.5k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Antagonist MC, Mentions of wounds

His childhood friend exuded energy just as vibrant as her Anhausen class Evol, captivating those around her with her bubbly demeanor.

However, beneath the cheerful façade lay a calculated use of charm, a trait you couldn't help but notice, especially in her interactions with Zayne.

As a senior hunter, your responsibilities included supervising new recruits, and you discerned her manipulative tendencies over time.

"Just because you've seen me at my weakest, you’re not entitled to pass judgment on those dear to me. It proves how I've known her longer and better, as she would never stoop so low as to speak ill of you. I don’t need you babysitting me."

Quick to defend his adored friend and seemingly caught up in emotion, he voiced those unfavorable words your way.

You knew Zayne was a direct person, but being on the receiving end of those words hurt. Especially as you later realized that you harbored feelings towards the cold doctor, feelings that had unknowingly woven into what you had always believed to be a purely platonic friendship between the two of you.

“—and you’re here because?”

His voice jolted you out of your reverie.

Somehow, standing in the exact spot where your last conversation occurred, resulting in months of silence between the two of you, had clouded your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on the present moment. “Greyson and Yvonne have been trying to get in touch with you.”

When news about Dr. Zayne taking recuperative leave had spread like wildfire throughout the UNICORNS, you had considered reaching out to him.

Your fingers had hovered over the phone, composing and deleting messages repeatedly.

In the end, you completely abandoned the notion altogether when you heard his childhood friend’s not-so-subtly mentioning her plan to visit and cook for him while chatting with the short-haired girl from the Data Analysis sector.

“I’m fine,” he managed to huff out after a while.

Taking a swift glance at the unexpected mess on his kitchen counters—scattered papers and remnants of food packaging—you challenged him. "I thought we had moved beyond the superficial 'I'm fine' responses when asking about each other's well-being."

Zayne didn’t reply and you noted that he had absentmindedly leaned his long legs against the kitchen counter as if seeking support from it.

“You, the Chief Cardiac Surgeon of Akso Hospital, someone who enjoys his lack of free time, couldn't possibly have felt 'just fine' after being placed on recuperative leave."

“I wasn't aware that you still kept tabs on my whatabouts," he retorted, eyes slightly gleaming competitively. However, they lacked the usual spark; instead, they hinted at tiredness and something indefinable that looked familiar but you couldn't quite pinpoint.

“I understand that your friend has probably visited you, but my great buddies insisted I come and check on you. They didn’t want to pester, but after two days of no answer, they are beginning to worry.” You raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. “Though if I’m not welcome, I’ll leave you be.”

As you moved past him towards the front door, you felt yourself emotionally drained from the brief exchange.

“Why you, specifically?” his whisper caused you to stop in your tracks.

“They know we are—” you stopped yourself, “used to be each other’s confidant. They thought you might be willing to speak to me if not to them.”

He chuckled dryly. “Used to…”

His muttered words compelled you to turn. Your hunter’s awareness noticed how he had subtly shifted, leaning more against the counter with one hand supporting his weight while his body slightly hunched forward, facing your retreating figure.

His body trembled with involuntary shivers, and the silver-framed glasses that had been perched on his nose earlier now lay discarded on top of the black granite.

“What’s wrong?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Your eyes instantly snapped to his arms, expecting to see the familiar bluish hue and the delicate, yet deadly patterns of ice crystals.

Instead, you saw fresh cuts on the back of his hand. Both of them.

A sound must have escaped your lips because Zayne quickly tugged at his light gray pajama sleeves, trying to cover his hands. He took a step back as he heard you stomping towards him.

Helplessly, he played a brief game of tug-of-war with you before yielding to your unexpected strength.

“What the hell,” you breathed out as you took the angry red marks marring his pale skin, making them stand out more. When you rolled up his sleeves further, you discovered fresh lacerations, a chilling reminder of the frost's icy grip.

You cupped his cheeks. It took his gaze a moment to gradually refocus on you, seemingly startled by the sudden skin contact. “Zayne, what happened?”

His lips were sealed shut. He began to resist, however, as you guided him towards his bedroom, but your hunter strength slightly won over his sluggish state.

Zayne watched you intensively check his wounds after you managed to get him to bed. They were more severe than the scratches you saw after you had cradled his frozen arms and succeeded in defrosting them using your Evol. It was when you found him beating himself up in regret for failing to save your partner during surgery.

As you stood up to fetch the medical supplies, his hand swiftly caught your forearm, surprising you with its speed. "You don’t have to take care of me," he insisted.

“Respectfully, Zayne,” you began, knowing he'd grimace at your next choice of words, “Fuck your pride and let me look after you.”

Seeing his familiar disapproving grimace at the brash word, you chuckled quietly to yourself.

Your boldness and recklessness often clashed with his calm and collected nature, one that left people wondering how a friendship could blossom between two such opposites.

As the antiseptic scent filled the air and silence enveloped the room while you tended to his arms, memories flooded back to the griefful night when you had lost your partner.

He had treated your temporarily forgotten battle wounds after the frost had thawed from his arms.

“It’s not your fault,” Zayne had spoken softly as he cleaned your wounds.

Your breath stuttered, surprised by the doctor's attempt to console you. Many people regarded him as highly reserved due to the carefully crafted mask of indifference he wore.

"The other staff told me what happened. You couldn’t have known that he was bitten; a child Chlorostaga leaves a very small puncture, and it would only feel like an ant has bitten you. With adrenaline running high, he wouldn’t have felt a thing."

“He told me that his heart was racing unusually fast during the transport back,” you whispered, feeling the tears clouding your vision. “And I jokingly suggested he needed to do more exercise.

“He laughed at it until—“ you forced down the bile rising in your throat before being able to continue, “until he suddenly collapsed from cardiac arrest. We were only a few minutes out before arriving here to treat our wounds.”

Zayne continued gently dressing your gashes as you recounted the last moment with your partner. “His last memory was of happiness with you, feeling fulfilled knowing he had once again protected Linkon City from Wanderers... With his trusted partner."

The tears you had struggled to contain finally broke through, cascading down your cheeks in torrents. He held you close that day, offering comfort until every tear was dried.

From that moment, a bond seemed to form between both of you, drawing you closer from mere acquaintances to individuals you could trust with your deepest emotions. Only a few had ever witnessed each other's vulnerable state.

In the present, you noticed his breathing had calmed, and the hazel eyes that had been watching you carefully moments earlier had closed as you finished tending the last cut.

Gently smoothing out the crease between his brows, you couldn't help but wonder how troubled he must have been. “I’ve built walls, and yet they crumble when I see you,” you whispered, afraid of him hearing your secret.

You had tried to shield yourself from future heartache after you slammed his front door the day he had spoken harshly. Yet, seeing him so vulnerable, your caring for him only deepened.

Listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing, an unexpected exhaustion washed over you like a tidal wave.

Sleep claimed you swiftly, and it wasn't until you felt Zayne's gentle touch on your shoulder that you awoke.

“You’re going to strain the muscle in the back of your neck sleeping like that.”

Still groggy from the unplanned nap, you couldn’t protest as Zayne easily deposited you to the space he occupied earlier, as if you weighed nothing.

Your skin flushed hot feeling his fleeting touch behind your knees. Blinking, you met his gaze as he settled back beside your feet on the bed, already looking much better than before.

As the heat from his body permeated the wool blend of his pajama pants, you could feel it warming the tips of your toes. “Are you feeling any better?”

He nodded, casting a glance down at his arms adorned with scattered adhesive strips. Awkwardness filled the air as you both grappled with the ever-present unresolved tension.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly. You looked up, startled.

"I'm sorry," he repeated more clearly. His hazel eyes, appearing browner under the dim lighting, seeking yours. "For saying those hurtful words to you, for failing to accompany you on mourning day."

Your eyes widened, surprised that he even remembered about the day that had occurred months earlier.

When he didn’t appear at the cemetery of fallen hunters on mourning day, an annual tradition to honor your late partner whom he couldn't save, you learned just how much he cherished his childhood friend.

While he hadn't explicitly promised to join every year, he had always done so without fail. At that time, you couldn't help but feel disappointed when you discovered he had spent the day with his childhood friend instead.

And perhaps, an ugly thorn of jealousy had begun to bloom inside your heart.

"Greyson gave me an earful after he found out about our... conflict, and then he pieced together why I was absent that day. Why didn’t you remind me?”

You broke away from his gaze, not prepared for the sudden query. “You are under no obligation to accompany me, so there's nothing to apologise for."

"I absolutely have to apologise, for on the day you mourn for your late partner the most, I callously had fun with my friend."

And there it was, his childhood friend once again stealing the spotlight in your conversation. You felt the barriers you erected creeping back into place.

"It's getting dark outside, I should head home," you said, retracting your legs and hurriedly standing up.

However, a warm hand on your wrist carefully pulled you back down, knee bumping with yours.

"I was ensnared by my memory of her innocence from our childhood," he confessed, voice heavy with regret. "She envied the deep connection we share and after overhearing your conversation with Yvonne, purposefully suggested a day trip to our hometown that exact day. She exploited my weakness for her gain, knowing my fond memories of our past together."

Zayne tenderly unraveled each of your tightly clenched fingers, soothing the nail marks that had etched into your palm.

It was one of your bad habits, surfacing whenever anxiety and stress took hold. Ever the observant person that he was, it was something he was well aware of.

Your breath hitched as he wove his fingers with yours, larger palm easily covering your smaller one.

"I'm the one who foolishly let myself be blinded and stooped so low, wrongly accusing you when your intentions were nothing but good-hearted." He swiped a hand over his face in frustration. “People praised me for my good judgement, but I evidently failed to make the most important one."

“And so this happened?” you gestured towards his arms with your other unoccupied hand. “Punishing yourself because you felt guilty for your lapse in judgment?”

She had heard bits and pieces of what happened from Greyson. The Chief Psychologist in the hospital had noticed Zayne’s peculiar behaviour for weeks—moments of zoning out and evident emotional distress.

Not wanting to jeopardise his patient’s health, he agreed to take a leave until he felt mentally prepared to return to his responsibilities, which required a clear mind above all else.

"No, it's me losing myself because I've taken advantage of the only person who understands me; to the extent of hurting that one person who, despite knowing her for a shorter time, has selflessly always been there for me." He placed a kiss on the back of your hand. "And fearing I may have already lost her, as I come to realize the depth of my feelings for her."

You whipped your head to fully face him, face flushed at his confession. His gaze unwavering, trapping you with fierce affection.

“You don’t need to say anything—”

“Zayne—”

“I just want to let you know that I’m sorry for causing you pain—”

“Zayne, I—”

“And I would understand if you don’t want to do anything with me again after everything that’s happened—”

"Zayne!" You moved to cover his mouth and lost your balance in the process, tumbling together onto the bed.

Him beneath you.

As you stumbled, his hand found the curve of your hip, supporting you from falling on top of him. While his other arm remained thrown over him, fingers still intertwined with yours amidst the sudden movement.

You could see him trying to mask his discomfort, no doubt feeling some of the deeper slashes being tugged.

"God, you really need to shut up sometime," you blurted out, catching Zayne off guard with your abrupt remark following his heartfelt revelation.

This close, you could see his pupils dilating at your close proximity, almost consuming the green in his eyes.

With profound confidence and a fuzzy feeling spreading inside your heart, you eased his mind. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The content smile painting his lips tugged at your heart. It was a genuine happiness that chipped away his usual cold demeanor.

He squeezed your hip and slowly urged you to lay on top of him, a silent invitation to be closer. Strong arms circled around as you nestled your head against his throat, enveloping you in his scent—grounding, and slightly musky, like the scent of a forest after rainfall.

“I never want you to lose control of your Evol over me again,” you warned him, eyes closing as you felt his lips pressing on your forehead.

“I can’t promise, but—” he interjected before you could interrupt him. “I’ll work on myself for the better. It’s the least I can do for the one who holds the dearest place in my heart.”

When you opened your eyes again, you could finally pinpoint that familiar glint in his eyes, the one you noticed when you confronted him hours earlier in the living room; it was endearment.

As you lay down on his bed that night, fingers gently combing through his tousled midnight-black hair as he rested against your chest, it dawned on you that the glow of affection had been there all along, subtly shimmering in his eyes throughout the years whenever you were by his side.

#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x y/n #love and deepspace x you #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x y/n #zayne x you #hurt/comfort #fluff

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year

Note

John B screwing his ex to get back at Sarah Cameron for hooking up with Topper, in the boat that they arrived back on, John B not realising that it is a Cameron boat so double win.

On my boat?

pairing: john b routledge x fem!reader

summary: see above

warnings: unprotected sex, oral, hair pulling, chocking, language. (18+ content)

a/n: as you read you will notice I felt the need of making reader the dominate one.

John B stormed away from the crowd; JJ tried to keep up but decided to let him go off alone. He knew he needed some time alone; no one would have expected Sarah to hook up with Topper.

John B was hurt, they were meant to be married. It was supposed to be, until death do us part. Apparently not for Sarah, she had different ideas.

His knuckles ached from the punches he threw at Topper; he knew topper didn’t try to fight back. He knew he would have been the one on the floor. He’s thankful that he got a few punches in, it helped with the anger that bubbled in his chest.

But he was half wishing Topper had fought back, he wanted to feel some sort of physical pain. It would be a lot easier to handle then this emotional pain he was going through right now.

“Yo John B”

He turned around to see you crossing the street, dressed in short shorts and a white crop. He could see your nipples through the thin material, usually he wouldn’t look but that’s where his eyes landed tonight.

“Eyes up here buddy” you laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. You had just finished work, walking along the kook side of the island. You worked for some fancy schmancy guy, he paid you well for what you did.

Of all the people you didn’t expect to see John B, you hadn’t seen him since he ended things with you and started dating Sarah. You didn’t have any hard feelings towards him, but you did hate Sarah, of course the kook princess would get the hottest pogue on the island.

You kept in touch with the rest of the pogues but with everything going on you hadn’t heard from them in a while, you also didn’t want to be caught up with the shit they were going through. Already having the cops on your back about the weed they found in the backseat of the car you may or may not have stolen.

“Y/N, what are you doing out so late?” John B questioned; you could already tell he was upset. His hair was dishevelled, and you could only guess the wetness on his cheeks where tears.. “Just finished work, you?”.

“Looking for a boat”

“Ooh sounds like another adventure” you winked; he nodded his head but didn’t say anything. Turning his head to look over at the water, boats littered the area.

“That’s the boat your friends came back on” you point, the huge white boat stranded on the side of the island. Well, you assumed stranded, you weren’t aware it was in fact the cameron’s boat.

“How do you know that?” He questioned, he started walking towards the boat. You stood on the spot unsure whether you follow or leave, but your question is answered when he stops and looks at you. “Seen them hop off it the other day”.

You both walk in silence; he helps you aboard the boat and you both look around. Checking to make sure no one was lurking around, every so often. The street lights gave you little light, you reached under a cabinet and grab a torch, walking away from John B you went down the stairs.

It was a large bedroom, the bed unmade. There were wrappers everywhere and empty cans of beer. You assumed the mess was from the pogues and rolled your eyes. “They made quiet the mess”.

John B’s voice made you jump, turning around to see him standing close to you. “Yeah, might need to teach them what a bin is” You laughed, looking up you were met with his chocolate brown eyes.

His skin had a slight burn to it from the deserted island sun, his hair was golden and messy. You quickly looked away when you noticed his eyes dropping to your lips, taking a few steps away you began to walk around the boat.

Rummaging through draws and cupboards until you came across the hidden liquor, pulling out a bottle of tequila. “Shots?”.

You didn’t wait for an answer and took a swig from the bottle, the liquid burning your throat. But you refused to have a coughing fit in front of John B. You could feel his eyes on you, pushing your arm out he grabbed the bottle.

“So, what’s got you down?” you question, you can see him physically wince at the question. Brining the bottle to his lips again and taking a longer gulp, this time he coughs as he swallows the liquid. “Damn, must be bad”.

Your dumfounded, was this chick stupid? She gets John B and runs back to her Douch bag ex? He looked like a foot compared to him.

“She hooked up with Topper”.

“Well shit” You sigh, grabbing the bottle from John B and take another swig. You walk over to the bed and sit crossed leg in the middle. “I have no words to give you friend”.

You really had no words, well you had words, but they were cruel and no doubt he didn’t want to hear about how Sarah was stupid and that you would gladly take him back.

“I don’t want to talk about it, just want to forget” he says, he joins you on the bed. Sitting crossed legged in front of you, reaching his hand out for the bottle. You pass him the glass and watch as he takes a swig, mentally slapping yourself for thirsting over your ex-boyfriend.

“Alright, well want to tell me about the deserted island?” You ask, he shakes his head though. Looking up to meet your eyes, that’s when you catch onto what he wants.

He’s moving himself from his crossed leg position and you find yourself untangling your legs and letting him crawl between them. “Can I kiss you?”.

“Thought you’d never ask”.

You let his lips touch yours, it’s soft and sweet like how it used to be. You don’t want to be like how it used to be, you know that’s exactly how he is with Sarah. So, you grip him by the shirt and flip the both of you over. Moving your legs to straddle him, you put more urgency into your kiss.

You tongue being the one to gain dominance, he let’s you grind yourself on him. Hands running up the length of your thighs until they sat on your hips, guiding you to dry hump against his board shorts. He was shamefully already hard.

“Shit-t when did you get this feisty” John B groans, you bite down on his lower lip pulling it slightly. Your vixen eyes stare up at him through your lashes, you pressed kisses down his jaw, using the palm of your hand to push the side of his face into the mattress and attacking his neck.

You had gotten rather adventurous in the bedroom since things ended with John B, not that they weren’t fun when you where together but now you dominated, and you made the men beg.

“Can I take this off” You mumbled against his skin, your fingers twisting at the buttons his t-shirt. He gives you a grunt of approval, you tear his shirt off and kiss down his chest. Letting your hands wonder over his toned stomach, flashes of old memories pop up in the back of your mind.

“How far do you want to go John B?” You question, your fingers on the waistband of his shorts. You wanted him to fuck you, wanted him to use you to forget her.

John B sit’s up and for a moment you panic he is going to change his mind, instead he grabs the material of your shirt and rips it over your head. His hands pressed against your spine, pulling you close to him. His mouth enveloping your nipple, tugging, and sucking.

You bite back your moans, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. “I want to be buried deep inside of you” He moans, jutting his up against you. Accidentally letting out a loud whimper, you can feel his lips smirk against your skin.

You push him back down roughly, reaching down between you again and you reach inside his shorts. Wrapping your hand around his length, he sucks in a deep breath presses the palms of his hands into his eyes. You were dripping from his reaction.

You sat to the side of him, pulling his pants down and let him kick them off his ankles. You spread his legs so you could sit between them, holding firmly onto his throbbing cock. He looked down at you, begging you with his chocolate eyes.

“What do you want me to do John B” you purred, you got down to the level of his red tip. Leaving a soft chaste kiss before pulling away, you could see his stomach muscles clenching as he fought the urge to rock his hips up into your face. “Please Y/N”.

“Hmm? What was that?” You questioned, moving your hand softly against his shaft. Giving him just enough friction to edge him on but not enough to stop him from begging. “Y/N, put my cock in your mouth” he demands.

You’re squeezing your thighs together at his bluntness, not used to being told what to do from him. You open your mouth and take him in, you had been working on your deep throating. You were much better then when you had been together. “Holy sh-itt” he gasps, gripping onto the white bed sheets for dear life.

“Hmm” You gurgled around his cock, the vibrations of your mouth sending him into a frenzy. Your nose brushing against his trimmed pubic hair, sliding your hand under you begin to massage his balls, he lets out a strangled moan.

His chest is heaving, and his arms shake as he grips the sheets, you’re watching his face up through your lashes. He finally looks down at you, in that moment you know you have him hooked. He reaches down and grips your hair, rutting his hips up against your face.

You gag slightly from the roughness and your spit begins to drip around his cock, you can feel him twitching inside of your mouth. He is pulling your off him, his cock leaving your mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. “Sit on my face now”.

You reach down and quickly strip your shorts and panties off, leaving your bare in front of him for the first time in months. “Face down here, ass up here” John B states, he signals for you to do 69. You nod your head and reach over his body, before you can even set yourself up, he reaches around your thighs and bring you down onto his face.

His tongue brushing through your folds, you let out a pornographic moan when the tip of his tongue presses against your bundle of nerves. You weren’t going to let him get his dominance back, instead you pushed your mouth down onto his cock again.

Sucking and swivelling your tongue against him faster than you thought was humanly possible, fingers caressing his balls once more. He licked and sucked like it was his last meal, pushing two of his fingers inside of you. The vibrations from both your moans had you both tipping over the edge and coming, his warm seed hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed quickly as you came down from your high, your juice coated his face.

You were shocked when he licked his lips, something he had not done before. Before you could even think more into that, he was flipping you onto the bed and leaning over you, His lips on your again, fingers laced around your throat, giving you a soft squeeze.

You stared at each other while you kissed, both your tongue battling for dominance. You used all your strength to push on his chest until you were back on top, straddling him once again. “Buckle up big boy” You whispered, giving him a kiss on the chest.

You reach down between you and grasp his cock, looking up at him for approval he grabs your hips and pushes you down instead of giving you an answer. You moan in sync; your nails dig sharply into his stomach. You begin to rock your hips slowly, enticing him with the cushion of your walls.

He reached up to massage your tits that were squeezed together by your arms, your head thrown back as you road him. His fingers where suddenly around your throat and pulling your down to look at him. “Fuck, seriously how are you so good at this” he moans, his eyes boring into yours.

“Practice honey” You purred, moving your hips a bit rougher. Your ass bouncing against his thighs, you reached down and gripped his throat as well. Giving him a harsher squeeze then what he was doing to you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in delight.

Who would have known John B would like to be chocked out you thought, you let out a soft snicker and his eyes pinged open. “You’re the devil” He states, he wraps his arm around your waist and begins to slide the both of you off the bed.

Walking over towards the seat that ran along the windows that had a view of under the water, fishes looking upon your naked sweaty bodies. He pressed you against the glass, pushing in and out of you at an ungodly speed. Biting down on the skin of your neck, pulling your hand away from his chest he puts your arms above your head and presses them against the window. Your chest and his pressing against each other.

“Harder John B, show me how angry you are” You moan, using your hips to grind into him. He drops his head into the crook of your neck and grips your waist, his speed intensifying. The sound of your wet skins filled the room, the boat felt as though it was swaying.

“Come on John B” You were pushing off him now, pushing him towards the end of the bed. He sat up as you sat back down on him, he wrapped him arms around your waist and let you take control, he was so close to coming, he didn’t have the energy to keep fighting.

“Come on baby, show me what you got” You whispered. Gripping his throat for a second time tonight, pressing your lips to his. Tongues and spit exchanging, both your hips moving in sync as you met each other in the middle, your clit rubbing against his stomach each time. “Yeah, just like that” You cried, dropping your head back and holding onto his shoulders.

He watched your skin glisten with sweat, your perfect perky breasts bouncing with each thrust. He was in another world; he couldn’t hold on anymore. “Y/N” he started, but you squeezed around his throat again to shut him up. “I’m gonna c-”

He didn’t get a chance to warn you as you came first, loud, and fast. Walls squeezing and fluttering around him, causing him to let go and cum inside of you. Both of you moaning and crying out in pleasure, your fingers still wrapped around his throat.

When you finally both caught your breaths and vision, you slid off him. “Well shit John B” you laughed, you began gathering up your clothes, searching for your panties. “More like well shit Y/N, your fiesty” he says, he however doesn’t reach for his clothes and watched you intently.

You turn your head to the door when you hear voices and the door rattles, head snapping back to John B who begins to rush around.

“I told you he would be her--” JJ begins, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees the both of you trying to get dressed quickly, eyes giving you a once over before offering you a wave. You give him a quick wave as he ushers everyone back and closes the door.

“In my fucking boat, John B?” You hear Sarah scream; you give him an apologetic smile and make your way to the door. Pulling it open, Sarah’s eyes meet yours and her eyes widen when she realises, he went to you not some random touron.

“Next time, try this in bed, he Loves it” You purred, wrapping your fingers around her delicate throat. You expect her to grab your arm, but she is too shocked to speak.

giving her a wink before walking away from the group, all eyes on you. You get a sudden rush of euphoria knowing you just fucked her boyfriend on her boat.

Part two

#john b fanfiction #john b smut #john b outer banks #john b routledge #john b x you #john b x y/n #john b x fem!reader #john b x reader #john b routledge smut #john b routledge x you #john b routledge x reader #chase stokes smut #outerbanks smut #outerbanks fic #outerbanks fics #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks x you

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smuttysabina · 7 months

Text

Gahyeon vs The Tentacles: A Tale of Interdimensional Terror and Sex

(Gahyeon x Tentacles, 2.7k words) CHECK THE TAGS

Tags: Filthy sloppy demonic sex, highly dubious anatomy, extremely questionable interdimensional reproductive cycles, tentacle sex, more tentacle cum then her body has room for, tentacle impregnation, egg laying, call your therapist- tell him he's a rich man, no orifice is left un-violated (okay well actually a lot are but...), illegal demonic summoning, birth, unspeakable degeneracy, consensual sex

Happy Halloween you degenerates

Gahyeon flips through the pages of the grimoire, bored beyond belief; who would have thought that finding a good demon for an orgy would be so hard! She scowls as she haphazardly tosses the book aside before snatching another one from the pile next to her roost in the old armchair. Halloween was fast approaching, and it was Dreamcatcher's hallowed tradition that every member would have to bring a demon along for their yearly spooky gangbang. Gahyeon's demon for last year had been a terrible disappointment, a Baphomet with meter-long cock; what the fuck was she supposed to do with a dick that huge? Okay, it had been pretty fun getting literally hosed down with demon-semen, but still! Flicking peevishly through the pages, she spots something that catches her eye, now this might work! Gahyeon would have to test it out first though, nothing was more embarrassing than trying to summon an interdimensional sex-partner only for the spell to fizzle in front of everybody...

Moving with confidence, Gahyeon quickly gathers the materials needed for the summoning; thankfully no virgin blood was required this time. Do you know how hard it is to find a virgin working at a Kpop company? Slopping her brush in the bucket of (ethically sourced) blood, Gahyeon swiftly sketches a pentagram on the library floor, then she bends over to draw the circle enclosing the symbol. Fell hieroglyphs and bizarre runes are carefully added around the perimeter ring, as Gahyeon busies herself with the fine details. She adds candles to every point of the pentagram, before as a final touch she dumps some leftover calamari in the center as a medium. Perfect. (What, its totally normal for an Idol to trespass the dark infinites to find a fuck-buddy; do you really think your favorites aren't doing it too?) Gahyeon calmly adjusts her outfit, as she prepares to start the incantation; first impressions are Important, you can't just greet your new friend butt-naked and bent over! (Well you can, it's just impolite) Unwords spill from Gahyeon's perky lips, scarring the air itself as she slowly makes several circuits around her summoning circle. An unhealthy light begins to grow around the discarded food-scraps, until they are burning with unnatural colors; then with a disgusting shlorp they disappear. Gahyeon blinks, did it work? Then a glowing pool of liquid appears, filling the circle until it is bubbling up the wards on the sides; a success!

Gahyeon squats in front of the unearthly puddle, impatient for any sign of the being she had supposedly just summoned. She starts as a long pink tube languidly rises out of the liquid, halting when level with her face and swaying gently. Gahyeon perks up, and cheerfully introduces herself, "Greetings almighty TZARNIGLOTHIFLORGUMALRQ'VSHYTUOPLONOAL, I was wondering if you wanted to go to an orgy next week with me?" The tendril bobs excitedly, and she beams, "Awesome! But um, let's get to know each other a bit better first okay?" The tentacle palpitates before ducking back into the pool, making nary a ripple. Gahyeon blandly stares at the pool, did she just get dumped...? Then a new tentacle erupts from the portal, much thicker and more purple than the last one, with a bulbous, fleshy tip. It quests slowly towards Gahyeon, pausing at the edge of the barrier; she rolls her eyes, and with a wave of her hand dispels it. The tentacle kisses her lips, and she opens her mouth to allow it inside of her.

The tentacle fills Gahyeon's mouth, probing towards the back of her throat before pausing, lulled by licking of her tongue. She slurps upon the squishy appendage, playfully sucking it off with surprising skill, her hands stroking its length. A sickly sweet fluid starts to appear in her mouth, and she redoubles her efforts, realizing that this must be some sort of precum. The tentacle wiggles and pulsates inside of her mouth, expanding until her tongue is pushed entirely down, leaving her throat clear. Warm, slick liquid spurts into Gahyeon's mouth, which she handily gulps down, but it is soon followed by a flood of gummy balls that slide easily down her well-lubricated throat. She gags, arms flailing as she tries to swallow the seemingly endless stream of boba-like spheres pouring into her stomach. Eventually the deluge ceases, and the tentacle deflates and withdraws from Gahyeon, leaving her coughing and clutching at her belly. She rubs herself while glaring at the now spent purple appendage, why does her tummy feel so strange, just what sort of demonic semen is inside of her? One thing for sure, Gahyeon feels a bizarre need for anal sex, like, deep, hard plowing. With a mischievous smile she lifts the hem of her dress up and pulls down her panties, "Well, surely you've got more to show me..."

Smooth, pink tentacles erupt out of the eldritch pool, slithering around Gahyeon's body and lifting her into the air. More tentacles hold her legs open while others snake underneath her clothes and slither sensuously around her breasts. She simpers at the overwhelming sensations assaulting her skin, so focused is she on her own pleasure that she barely notices the growing pressure against her anus. Gahyeon gasps as she feels something hot and slimy enter her ass, slowly but steadily pushing deeper inside of her; expanding to fit the contours of her innards. The tentacles coiling around her body begin to secrete the same fluid that had presaged the purple tentacles orgasm, coating Gahyeon in a thin layer of slime. She moans, writhing in the tentacles grasps, her nerves made extraordinarily sensitive by the tentacles' fluid; demanding that her demonic lover continue rubbing her. She climaxes messily when the tendril inside of her quests even deeper, delving into her small intestine as it slowly fills up her belly with its fleshy length. Gahyeon's eyes roll back as she cums repeatedly from the novel sensation of having her guts fucked; her tummy bulging obscenely. Then the tentacle within slowly begins to wind its way out of her, leaving behind a warm, slippery trail of fluid that makes her tremble with a strange excitement. Gahyeon's eyes widen as she feels something start to flow down her guts, what the fuck...?

A smooth, pliable ovoid plops wetly out of Gahyeon's ass, making her shudder with sickening delight. She groans, "What the fuck is that?" before any further questions are stopped by a veritable flood of eggs spewing out of her anus. Gahyeon's arms spasm frantically as her asshole sputters noisily, as if the world's longest string of anal beads was getting yanked out of her ass. She cums so hard from her sensitive ass getting violated that she blacks out, only regaining consciousness some time afterwards; her ass gaping in the cool air. Breathing heavily, Gahyeon manages to gasp out, "Did- did you just impregnate my fucking guts? Ugh... Fuck that felt so good though!" A salacious gleam fills her eyes, her mind hazy with lust, she reaches down to spread her other hole, "You dummy, don't you know you're supposed to knock up a human using this hole? Fill me up again! I want to birth your spawn using my cunt this time," Gahyeon haughtily demands. A pink tendril noses at her entrance, but she bats it away irritably, "No! Use a purple one I said!" She licks her lips when she sees another bulbous, purple tentacle emerge from the pool, wiggling her hips with excitement as it approaches.

Gahyeon moans as the tentacle slides inside of her sopping pussy, squirming around as it examines her hole until it pokes at her cervix. Its flesh tip kisses the entrance to her womb, before worrying at it as the tendril seeks to enter her most sacred place. Gahyeon slows her breathing, drawing upon her lessons with Jihyo to relax her cervix, allowing the tentacle to slither inside of her uterus. She spasms a little as the fleshy tube explores her womb, now this was certainly a new sensation for her! Gahyeon grunts as she feels a surge of warm fluid and eggs spewing inside of her, thank goodness her cavity was designed to be stretched out... The purple tendril slips out of her pussy, before a familiar pink tentacle takes its place, already slopping lubricating fluids all over her crotch. Gahyeons pouts in annoyance, "This is the most boring tentacle rape I've ever been to. Like, I don't mind being forced to birth you eggs and shit, but can you at least fucking violate me while I do? I want at least, one tentacle fucking all of my holes at all times; and I had better be getting pumped full of so much cum I look pregnant! What's the point of screwing tentacles if I'm not getting ruined? Oh- and if you could fuck my tits too that would be great." The tentacle poised to insert itself pauses for a moment, as Gahyeon blandly watches the shimmering pool for an answer. Several dozen more pink tentacles menacingly rise out of the water, and she claps her hands in delight; now this is more like it!

Gahyeon gurgles happily around the fleshy tube shoved down her throat, sucking upon it with all her might. Two more pink tentacles make an absolute mess of her cunt, slopping fluids all over the floor, while another is busy filling her ass with cum. Several small tendrils also invade Gahyeon's more exotic orifices, wriggling inside of her nipples and urethra before filling those with creamy liquid as well. Under such an assault, its no wonder that Gahyeon is orgasming almost continuously, her abused holes spasming around the tentacles fucking her brains out. The tentacle occupying her esophagus pulsates, and she feels a seemingly endless surge of hot liquid spew into her stomach until it sloshes with every movement she makes. Finally spent, the tentacle unclogs Gahyeon's throat only after her face has turned rosy from lack of oxygen. Panting, she still manages to tongue it gratefully as it withdraws, sucking on it until it emerges from between her lips with a sensual pop. Then the tendril squirming between her huge breasts explodes all over her chest, painting her chain and neck with a slick of filthy fluid.

Now thoroughly in heat, Gahyeon rubs the resulting aphrodisiacal mess into her breasts, causing her nipples to swell up even as they are toyed with by smaller tentacles. An utterly perverse idea crosses her mind, and at her urging, two fresh purple ovipositor tentacles nose at her teats. Her nipples are forced wider as the ribbed tendrils slowly press inside, before starting to pulsate with a now familiar rhythm. Gahyeon groans with ecstasy as her breasts are impregnated, as eggs slop into her unused mammaries until they are heaving with slick spheroids. She gropes herself forcefully, relishing in the feeling of her already large breasts now swollen to capacity with weighty eggs. But it's still not enough for the lustful slut, who is now indulging in her wildest fantasies. Even as the pink tendrils return to lubricating the insides of her tits, she hauls another larger one towards her mouth, "Don't stop until you come out the other side..." Gahyeon accepts the tentacle into her mouth, allowing its meaty length to curl down her throat and towards her stomach. In bends slightly, allowing air to flow into her lungs, while plumbing ever deeper. Now it was literally in her stomach, already roiling with lubricating fluids, before pushing onwards...

Gahyeon squirms as the tentacle winds its way down through her innards, cumming as she wordlessly demands her for her cunt to be stimulated. Then the tentacle was through the tight confines of her organs, and was freely wriggling its way out of her already abused guts. She whines as she feels her asshole birth the thickening coil, her eyes glazing over as it raises back up to her face, as if showing off. Gahyeon convulses, she was being impaled, she had been reduce to filthy fucking meat-tube! Only after enduring what seems like an endless orgasm, does the pink tentacle deign to withdraw, leaving her feeling worn and violated; not that she was slowing down. The tendrils fucking her breasts had not been idle while Gahyeon had been filled all-the-way-through, and her tits were now burning with a grotesque heat. She looks down in shock, that was fast, her hands squeezing her boobs as they start to leak and pulse. Gahyeon squeals as the first oviod forces its way out of her gaping nipple, rolling down her shaking stomach before falling to the floor. A tide of eggs follows, spewing out of both of her breasts as she watches with amazement the sight of her tits giving birth. She croons as she gently massages her blown-out breasts, fuck she needs more and more! With daemonic energy she demands that the ravaging of her holes recommence, Gahyeon doesn't need to rest, she needs to get destroyed!

After nearly another hour of rapacious hole-fucking, Gahyeon writhes from overstimulation, as she feels a familiar heat begin to grow in her belly. She looks down in surprise as several more tentacles snake inside of her, filling her holes to capacity and more; gushes of fluid pouring out of her with every thrust. Her moans grow higher in pitch as the supreme moment approaches, her uterus pressing downwards against the knot of tendrils occupying her cunt. Gahyeon gasps as her cervix slowly begins to open, the pressure within forcing its lips to part, "Oh my god its coming out! Oh fuck I'm giving birth! It hurts so good!" Gahyeon wails as the first egg squeezes its way out, the tentacles swiftly pulling out of her pussy to give her space. Then the next one emerges, followed by several dozen more; every egg prompting her to moan and squirt, the tentacles in her guts continuing to pleasure her innards. Her hands frantically stroke the tendrils in her hands, milking them one-by-one into her mouth in a frenzy of degenerate lust as her mind goes blank...

When Gahyeon had finished birthing the slimy ovoids, the tentacles gently lower her to the ground, leaving her on her knees in a puddle of lubricating fluid. Her blown-out holes sputter weakly, and she clutches at her belly that was so swollen with cum it looks as if she was pregnant. Then Gahyeon notices that she is alone once more in the room, the portal of glistening liquid fast receding. She pouts, is it over already? A singular purple tentacle emerges from the pool, fluted and ribbed; bobbing gently in exhaustion. With a mischievous smirk, Gahyeon grasps the flesh tube and takes it in her mouth, her wily tongue slithering inside of the tendril's hole. Holding it steady, she teases and plays with the pseudo-cock until it is leaking into her mouth; then she starts to suck and it quivers. Gahyeon gracefully swallows egg after egg, her throat so well lubricated that even though they are larger, the gummy balls slide down her gullet with ease. When it is finished filling her with its spawn, she removes it from her mouth, before giving its bruised tip and sloppy kiss. "So, I'll be seeing you in a week, right? I'll incubate the babies you plopped into my tummy until then, but next time... Next time you had better impregnate all of my holes, oh and violate me even harder; the fact that I'm even conscious right now is really not great." The tentacle pulsates in her grasp, and Gahyeon finally allows it to escape back into the hellish dimension from which it came; the portal closing behind it with a wet shlorp.

Gahyeon staggers towards the exit of the library, her leaking holes leaving behind a slippery trail of fluids. She was looking forward to having her innards invaded again, the other girls would be so jealous of her! She doesn't think any of them had given birth while getting fucked before either, so she was really going to be able to show off! Gahyeon tenderly strokes at her protruding belly, feeling the eggs squirming inside of her; who knew that serving as the breeding-pouch for an interdimensional demon would be so fucking arousing?

Well, maybe Gahyeon, but she did read a little too much hentai for her own good...

#kpop smut #dreamcatcher smut #gahyeon smut #tentacles #smut

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billthedrake · 2 months

Text

WINGMAN

I generally had a clean lifestyle, at least lately, but it was Mike Gelson's bachelor party, and we five dudes were partying it up in Nashville. I may have been doing my goody two-shoes Brendan Peters thing and getting club soda every few rounds, but my tolerance was down and I was getting good and truly wasted.

My best buddy James Carducci noticed, too. Like me, he was a big guy, a former tight end who carried a lot of muscle on his 6'5" frame, but unlike me he could hold his liquor.

"You gonna get laid tonight, Peters?" he growled in my ear as we entered the room we were sharing. "It's fun to see you let your hair down."

I gave him a scowl but knew he was just ribbing me. It's what buddies did. "Why can't we have the bachelor party in New York or something?"

Carducci knew what I meant. He plopped on one of the beds, his big frame taking up most of the double bed mattress. "Bro, you could have all the gay dudes around you and you'd still be too fuckin' picky."

I lay down on the other bed, looking over at my best friend. We'd both moved to the same city after graduation. Coming out had been a big messy process for me, and James had been the most supportive of my college friends. He was enthusiastically bisexual - not advertising it or anything, but we quickly realized we could switch from teammate-buddies to guy talk and back.

Still, we were opposites in a lot of ways. "Dude... it's easy for you. You just want to get your dick wet."

We'd had versions of this conversation before. He grinned. "Bro, maybe you should get your dick wet for a change. It'd keep you from being a cranky bitch." Yeah, Carducci could get away saying stuff to me no one else could. Then turning his meaty body on his side, he looked right at me. "I get it, Peters. But maybe while you wait for Mr. Right, you can have some fun. I mean, Kevin Murphy's not gonna suck your cock."

"What the fuck?!" I played dumb. Kevin had been the kicker on our D1 team and was Mike Gelson's best man. He was my type to a T... shorter than me and leaner, boy-next-door cute, tight body and a bubble ass.

James lay back again and put his arms around his back, arms knotted and pumped. If I was into big dudes like myself, there might be sexual tension between us. "Bro, it's all over your face. Remember, I know your fuckin' type."

"C'mon, JC," I pleaded, using my nickname for him.

He grinned. "Don't worry, Peters, I'm not gonna say anything to anyone. You know that. Crush out on Murphy all you want. You're just barking up the wrong tree."

"Yeah," I sighed. "It's majorly against the bro code." I was starting to get resentful of how being a horny gay dude and an ex-jock living by the bro code were not exactly compatible.

That got a deep laugh from JC. "So's fucking your buddy's dad."

I sat up, the alcohol and quick movement making my head dizzy. "What?!?!" Normally I'd write off the comment as Carducci being a jokester but the way his words came out made them seem real.

He now sat up and reached down to paw at his crotch to rearrange his junk. "This stays between us," he warned.

"Scouts honor, man," I replied.

My friend got a wild look on his face and a leer as he said, "I banged Gelson's dad."

"Mike Gelson," I clarified. "The fucking groom."

He seemed annoyed. "What other Gelsons do you know, dumbass? Yeah, Mike Gelson's father. It was a couple of years ago, when Mike invited a couple of us to his family's lake house." James was closer to Gelson than I was, which only made what he was describing seme more transgressive.

"Dude, isn't Mr. Gelson like 45?" I'd briefly met the man once but he didn't make too much an impression on me, I guess.

Carducci leered. "He was 50 then, and it was fucking glorious. A whole week, both of us enjoying sneaking around." I knew JC had a bit of a kink for married men. We didn't overshare, but I'd very occasionally hear about a hookup or, more often, I'd unload about a date that didn't go like I wanted.

I had to rib him now. "What, you going for the daddies now, JC?"

Without missing a beat, he looked at me with his brown eyes. "Abso-fucking-lutely, Peters. Exclusively even. You should try an older dude for a change."

I didn't think I was easily shocked but the turn of the conversation had indeed rattled me. I went silent before I said quietly, "Man, I couldn't date a guy my dad's age. What the fuck?"

He laughed. "Dude, who's talking about dating? You're a hot fucking dude, you should be having sex nonstop... " He paused. "Can I be honest, bro?"

I nodded, bracing myself for the barrage of criticism. But this was Carducci, I knew he was looking after me.

"Well," James started. "You always go for the unavailable ones like Murphy, or for the stuck up ones who think they're the shit for having an Insta following." For all of our odd-couple conversations, Carducci had never spelled it out for me quite like this. But he was totally right. "I dunno, maybe you should go outside your type just to see. There are so many daddies out there who'd be so fucking appreciative to make it with a guy like you.... You could use the ego boost, bro."

I thought it over. "Is that what older guys are to you?" I asked. "An ego boost?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I have a pretty massive ego already, bro, I don't need help with that. I just love sex with an older guy." I watched as he pulled a spare pillow down to cover his crotch. I knew why: Carducci was boning up talking about sex, and while we shared a lot there still was the bro code between us. "Some of em have a wild side, like a drunk sorority chick."

I shook my head. "Jesus, JC."

I knew the alcohol was getting us both to open up to this conversation. "It's not like that, Peters. I mean, you know you're with a dude, a real masculine dude at that. But there's that wild, naughty streak beneath the surface. I fucking love it."

He reached over and picked up his phone.

"What? Are you gonna show me a picture of one of your conquests?" I asked.

He looked up and winked. "Perv. No, bro, I'm lining up a blowjob. There's gotta be a horny daddy staying in this hotel."

I blushed. "You serious?"

"Sure, I'm serious," he said, now not taking his eyes off the app as he scrolled through. "Jesus you can be such a fucking prude."

I lay back, feeling insulted but mostly angry that he was right. I'd set up a Grindr profile and used it some but then swore it off over the last year. "Well, you're not bringing him back here," I said.

JC now looked up. "Like I said. Cranky bitch." There was teasing sure, but I think I'd actually pissed off my buddy. I almost apologized but I was stubborn.

Anyway, he was now getting off the bed and putting his shoes back on.

"Already?" I asked with astonishment. JC hadn't been on that app much longer than five minutes.

He laughed. "What can I say, bro?" He smiled. "Daddy wants this..." he used his hand to gesture to his tall muscular body. "I'm in Nashville, I'm gonna have a little fucking fun." He had his phone and key card and seemed good to go. "You should too, Peters. For real."

I didn't say anything but I gave a look that was my attempt at an "I'll think about it."

And like that, I watched my best friend leave our room.

***

The lamplight was still on when I woke up. I'd conked out in my drunkenness. I was massively hungover but I always wake up pretty quickly. Light was coming in and the clock said a little after 8.

Carducci's bed was still made and still empty. The fucker.

I got up and pissed and popped a couple of aspirin, hoping they'd help. My head pounded. And we still had another night of this fucking bachelor party weekend. I wondered if these dudes would want to come to mine when the time came. Hell, I wondered if I'd have one.

I brushed my teeth to get the stale beer taste out of my mouth. My hair was mussed up and I did my best to comb it down.

Fifteen minutes later, after a trip to the lobby to get some coffee, I was feeling more alive. Hungover still, but better. I didn't feel like eating anything, but the aspirin was helping.

I picked up my phone. I'd uninstalled Grindr but it was easy enough to re-install it. It took me a second to remember my login, but I used one of my common passwords. One of these days, I'd need to choose something more secure for my shit.

There were some hot guys in Nashville, but I'd gotten spoiled by the city I lived in now. There was a certain type I was seeing here - either bigger, beefier guys, or else younger thinner twinks. My type was always in between that. I wanted more Dierks Bentley and was seeing a lot more Garth Brooks types, even among the 20-somethings.

I'd been replaying my conversation with JC in my head. He could bust my balls, and maybe in a way I didn't like. But I told myself, I'd give this a try. I changed my profile language to make it less picky and judgmental and adjusted my looking-for age range.

It was early and I didn't see any hits in this hotel, but there was a good looking older guy in the hotel on the next block. Kind of average looking, balding hair, 49yo, but his pics showed off a very fit body, lightly hairy, probably trimmed. Looking for now. If I had to make it with an older dude, this was probably as good a match as any. I'd focus on his body if need be.

"Hey," I typed in a chat. "You're up early."

"Hi man." Then. "This is early?"

"In Nashville it is," I replied back.

"True, ha."

I was never great with the quick hookup thing, but one thing I'd mastered was the art of messaging. Some guys were too direct, not flirty enough, but some guys were too passive and conversational. My style didn't work with everyone, but it was working now, I knew.

"What brings you here?" I asked.

"Business. I thought I'd tack on an extra day for fun. And you?"

"Bachelor party."

"Of course, ha." Then, he added. "You're quite the hunk."

"Thanks man," I typed. "You're hot, too." I wasn't sure how much I thought that. It's not that he wasn't hot, because he was in a way. But in my fucked up way, I knew he wasn't Brendan Peters-worthy hot. Not in my league. But I tried to embrace the Carducci way. "You say you bottom, right?" His profile had read vers-bottom.

"Yep. You wanting to fuck?"

After my conversation with JC, I'd initially been thinking of a blowjob. Baby steps. Something to take the edge off. But now I realized it had been WAY too long since I'd fucked a guy. "God yeah. You able to host?"

"If you can give me fifteen minutes."

I pawed my crotch now. I was getting boned good. "Make it twenty?" I wanted to shower up.

"Sounds good, man."

***

The profile had sold the guy short. He didn't look hotter than his pictures but as he ushered me in, he had a deep sexy voice. Almost gravely, with a New York accent. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and I could see how dense his muscle was on a frame that was about 6 inches shorter than mine.

"Looks like I hit the jackpot, huh?" he smiled. Then as his eyes swept up to my face, he added, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna gush. You know you're smoking hot."

OK, maybe JC was right, I could get used to the ego pump. With a grin I stepped up to the guy and wrapped my arms around his naked torso, drawing him in.

"I wasn't sure..." he started to say in his deep voice befor I cut him off with a kiss.

He was a good kisser. This was a hookup, just a hookup, and our making out wasn't romantic, but I really enjoyed this part of sex, and this man knew how to respond to my groove. His hands felt up my chest as he did his best to match my tongue work.

Maybe it had been so long since I'd had sex, but the feel of his bare skin and hard back muscle under my fingers had me rock hard. This guy wasn't my type, but he was masculine and real and he wanted me. I pulled off his towel and broke the kiss so I could reach down and paw at his thick ass. It wasn't a young bubble ass, it wasn't Kevin Murphy's kicker's ass, but this man went to the gym regularly and had for years.

"Yess.." he hissed.

I kneaded his ass for a minute longer then stepped back, in full ready to fuck mode. As I reached down and started undoing my shorts and kicking off my shoes, my trick looked at me with horny anticipation, his daddy dick hard and leaking, a solid six-incher that stood out from his trimmed but hairy crotch.

"I guess we didn't talk about specifics," he said, stepping back to the bed. "You a missionary or doggy position kind of guy?"

God, this was 180 degrees from my normal Grindr experience. I always met freaks who'd get real porny and weird, or I met guys who were bossy about their needs. This man had a fun laid-back vibe, even as we were getting to brass tacks.

Usually my answer would be missionary. "Doggy," I leered, letting my thick long cock fall out as I pushed my underwear down.

"Fuck," the daddy hissed. "You didn't exaggerate the measurements. Take it a little easy at first, then I'm good to go." I watched as he got onto the bed, on all fours. It was clearly the body of a man in his late 40s, but I was going to enjoy it all the same.

I got up on after him, letting the mattress sink with my weight. I'd hit almost 240 in college ball, and while I'd leaned down a little since then, I still was 230 pounds of tall muscle.

I remember one time I'd started eating out some model looking guy I'd hooked up with and he about freaked out, telling me he wasn't into getting rim. But as I kissed along this man's lightly furred ass cheeks, one side then the other, he spread his legs in an unmistakeable green light. I dove in and licked.

Fuck, this daddy loved it. I thought about what JC said. Masculine dudes with that drunk sorority chick worthy wild streak. He was some regular guy on business, and he was enjoying me eating him out and munching wildly at his clean pucker.

"Holy fuck, dude!" he growled, the deep voice making his words seem more sexual. "Eat my fucking hole."

I did. I wasn't even expecting an extended rim session for this. I almost thought it would be a pump and go, but I now rode the experience, gripping his cheeks, pulling them apart and tongue fucking this man who indeed was old enough to be my father.

I could have kept at it, too, but I needed to fuck. I leaned up, wiped off the spit from my chin and reached down to wet my cock.

"There's lube and condoms," he said, nodding to the night stand. "I'm on PREP so do what you want, man." Again, that deep voice had my balls twitching.

I slathered on some lube and lined up my bare prick. Daddy was gonna get raw dogged. I gave a two-mississippi pause then pushed to enter him.

There was some snugness at the ring but otherwise no real resistance. I popped in, making the man grunt a little, but he braced his upper body, took a deep breath, then nodded. I pushed my way all the way in, deep into his hot tightness. I forgot how amazing a good fuck felt. Bottoming out, I gripped his waist and began a slow pump.

"Jesus, you're a big boy," he grunted, excitement in his voice.

"6-four," I teased, now fucking him with firmer strokes.

"I meant your cock," the daddy said.

"I know," I hissed. "You're taking that big dick."

"Christ, man," he replied. "Fuck me! Fuck me big guy!"

I did. Getting more and more into it. I was enjoying this position of holding his waist and using that leverage to pull his leaner muscular build onto my hard pistoning cock as much as I was pushing into him. But as I got more excited and more into the mounting pleasure, I felt a need for something more animalistic. Leaning forward, I covered his back with my muscular chest and torso and just started hammering him with hard short strokes.

"Oh fuck oh fuck," he hissed. Loving it, but feeling the challenge of taking me that way, given my strength.

It wouldn't take long though. I now supported my weight with one arm while the other one wrapped around him, pulling his hard body next to mine for maximum contact and steady penetration.

He too was braced on one hand now while the jerked off to my inward strokes.

He came a second before me, but it was a photo finish. I let out a deep heavy growl and enjoyed the most amazing orgasm I'd had in a LONG time.

He finally withdrew his hand and let my weight push him down into a flat lying position.

"Am I too heavy?" I asked as I kissed his neck softly. I didn't want to pull out just yet, the aftershocks felt pretty amazing.

"I'm good," came that deep voice. "I like it, actually."

I kissed him more, along his neck. It's a weird thing of mine. Some guys lose interest after getting their nut, but I get in a real romantic headspace after cumming. It's freaked some men out.

Daddy picked up on it. "I thought you'd be a fuck and go kind of guy," he said with a soft laugh.

"Sorry," I said, pushing myself up off him some.

"Don't apologize, it's nice."

I ran my hand along the man's arm. Strong, not as big as mine, but there's something about an older man that meant more seasoned muscle. "I know this is just a hookup," I said. "I just like talking with a guy I have sex with. I'm weird, I guess."

He got quiet, but his reply felt calm and measured. "We can grab brunch if you like. I can learn more about the guy who just gave me the fuck of my life."

"Yeah," I said.

Now as we uncoupled and rinsed off in the bathroom before getting dressed again, I was having second doubts, and maybe I was leading him on too much. I absolutely didn't want anything serious with this guy. After today, I'd probably half forget him. This was just my hormones talking.

He seemed to read me. "You OK, man?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He gave me an empathetic look. "Don't worry, I know I'm just a piece of tail to you. But I'm starving... why don't we get a bite and then you can get back to your bachelor party duties?"

I smiled. "Sounds good," I said. I stepped up and kissed him, softly. Wrapping my arms around his waist and enjoying the height difference.

"My name's Curt," he said.

"Brendan," I said.

#drakestories

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