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joelsgreys · 3 months

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captive

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.

It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.

It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.

Loud. Much too loud.

You roll over, settling yourself on your side.

The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.

You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.

Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.

He always gets the room with the bed.

As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.

It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.

He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.

You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come.

His absence is starting to bother you.

You’ve been with him for an entire season now.

You’re getting used to him.

The sound of his voice.

The warmth of his body.

The taste of his lips.

You can’t even sleep without him next to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.

How was it possible? How could you be missing him?

He had taken everything from you.

Your family.

Your home.

Your innocence.

He was holding you captive. He was a monster.

But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.

Doesn’t clothe you.

Doesn’t feed you.

Doesn’t protect you.

He did all of those things and more.

Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?

Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?

You fucking hated him for what he’d done.

Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.

It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking.

Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.

“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”

You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.

His worn leather boots being kicked off.

His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.

“How was the hunt?”

You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.

Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.

There’s a swoop in your tummy.

Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.

He’s got such a handsome face.

Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”

Of course you weren’t.

Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.

When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.

He takes care of you.

“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”

It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.

You’re being sweet to him.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”

He’s not just talking about food and you know it.

You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.

Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.

“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.

You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.

“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”

The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”

Surprised, he turns around.

Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.

Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.

“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased.

“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”

His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.

“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.

It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.

Now your heart was starting to do the same.

And then there was your mind.

What if that stopped fighting him too?

Part of you is afraid it already has.

Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.

“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”

“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.

Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”

He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.

“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”

Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.

You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him.

And you shouldn’t be.

He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.

You choke out a sob.

It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.

That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.

“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”

He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.

Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.

“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.

That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.

You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.

Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.

divider credit to @saradika🤍

#tw dubcon #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #raider joel #raider! joel #dark!fic #dark! joel miller #dark joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #joel miller fanfiction #tw daddy kink #dark!joel x reader #fic: captive

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lovebugism · 6 months

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eddie fucking you in the back of his van whilst it’s raining😫

hope you like it lovie!! — after a series of ruined date nights, eddie makes up for another failure the only way he knows how (established relationship, smut 18+, 1.4k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie was gonna take you out, come hell or high water — literally.

It was like the universe was conjuring up ways to keep you apart. He tries to plan a date night with you, and suddenly you have to pick up your coworker’s extra shift and the brakes in his van don’t work anymore.

He takes you to a drive-in to see some black-and-white horror movie, and for the first time in weeks, things are actually looking pretty good. With some candy he brought from home, the two of you settle under the covers in the back of his van, lazing against one another as the projector flickers on.

And then it just starts fucking pouring.

It’s like he blinks and the whole thing gets canceled and the entire parking lot is empty.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he grumbles under his breath, not unlike the black storm clouds rolling overhead.

You giggle at his dramatics. The heavenly sound melts with the wild cadence of rain, tapping rhythmically against the rusted tin roof of the van.

You’re still being a good sport about the whole thing despite the circumstances. You don’t care what you’re doing, really. You’re happy just doing nothing with Eddie.

“They refunded us for next week. We can just come back Saturday.”

“I wanted to do it this Saturday,” he whines, all boyishly angry. With his arms crossed over his chest, he leans his head back and bares his milky white neck. “This was supposed to be our night together— why does everything have to get so fucked all the time?”

“It’s not like everything’s totally ruined,” you assure him, practically cooing as you smooth out the frown between his brows with your thumb. “At least we’re together. Who cares about the rest of it?”

“I know, but… You were really excited about it. And I was really excited to watch you watch the movie.”

Eddie tries to be serious, but he’s grinning the second he makes you laugh.

“Shut up…”

“I mean it,” he tells you, serious and quiet with it. His cheek squishes against his shoulder when he pouts at you. “I think I might be heartbroken, babe.”

You know what he’s playing at. You lean into it, anyway.

“Yeah?” you hum with narrowed eyes.

He nods.

“Want me to make it better?”

“Please?”

You close the short distance between you to press a kiss to his mouth. It’s the chastest little peck — you’re practically gone the second you’re there. Eddie chases you when you pull away, tasting of nicotine and pink starbursts when he kisses you deeper.

You get lost in him like it’s nothing, sighing when his soft tongue juts gently against your own. He’s sucking softly at your bottom lip one second, and the next, you’re lying on a pile of fuzzy blankets.

His rings and cold knuckles brush your sides when he tugs at the hem of your shirt, a silent plea for its removal. You come to then, pulling back from him with a low click sounding between your kissed mouths.

“Wait…”

“What?” he wonders, lips rosy and swollen. His deep, chocolate eyes dart between both of yours, looking for any sign that something might be wrong.

“Won’t we get in trouble?”

“No— Everyone already left.”

He’s breathless from having been kissed so ardently. He leans down for more anyway. His stomach twists with rejection when you press against his shoulders to stop him.

With a sigh, he concedes and rises off of you again. His shirt is wrinkled and skewed around his neck from your passionate touches. Still on his knees, he reaches for the metal handle of the back door and shouts into the roaring rain — “Hello? Anyone out here?”

“Eddie!” you shout, giggling and jerking backward when rogue droplets sprinkle inside.

The van shakes when he slams the door shut again.

“See?” he lilts with a lopsided grin. “No one.”

You shake your head at him. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“You love me, though,” he mutters as he settles back over you. The weight of his body is warm against your own. With your hands on his sides, you pull him somehow closer.

“Unfortunately…” you gripe, kissing the breath from his lungs a second later.

When he reaches for the hem of your shirt again, you let him take it off.

—————

The thundering rain against the roof almost drowns out your gentle moans. Eddie’s glad you’re breathing them right into his ear, so he can hear everything he’s doing to you.

His thrusts are slow and measured. Almost painfully unrushed. He shushes your begging to go faster — “Just let me make you feel good,” he mutters, slurred and low, “Let me hit that spot.” He pierces you with his cock, tilting his hips to hit deep inside you until you make a pretty noise for him, then he creeps back out again.

He never pulls all the way out, though, ‘cause he might die if he left the warm velvet you are around him. He keeps his pelvis pressed intently against your own, the coarse hair at the base of his cock steady on your pussy. The pressure against your clit is merciless.

“Put your legs around me, baby,” he mumbles against your mouth because he knows the different angle will make it better for you.

He almost smirks when you obey him without thinking, but his mouth parts with an unexpected moan before he can. You pull your knees back and tuck your ankles around his waist, heels pressing gently above his ass.

Your cunt widens and suckles him further in.

Eddie grumbles a hearty, poorly muffled moan into your neck.

“There you go— just like that,” he praises. “Doing so good for me, pretty. Always so good for me.”

You whine again, high and light, like the praise is equally as pleasurable as his cock.

His metal chain glides between your breasts when he pulls back from you. He tucks his ringed fingers into your waist and sits back on his haunches, balls resting warm and wet against your ass. He keeps rocking into you, unhurried.

“What happened to that mouth you had before, huh?” Eddie wonders, still breathless.

He smirks when you moan in response. He knows you don’t have the words to answer him. He knows he’s fucked you far too stupid.

“Thought I was incorrigible, remember? What happened to that?”

Your mouth parts in a silent whimper, back arching and brows pinching when his cock hits deeper than you think he’s ever been. The pleasure feels borderline electric — makes your spine tingle and your legs go numb.

“Yeah… For someone who loves mouthing off—” Eddie continues to tease despite his breathlessness. You clench around him, and he has to remember to exhale. “—You open up so easily for me. Don’t ya, honey?”

You wanna say something. You think you almost do. But his thrusts are as merciless as they are slow. He presses impossibly deep within you and keeps hitting that spot until you tremble. The words get caught in your throat, along with a silent moan.

“That’s okay, honey. Just let me fuck you. Let me make you feel good,” Eddie slurs, mumbling like he’s talking to himself. “Go dumb for me like you always do. So perfect at that— god.”

He tilts his head back to howl a groan. Through fluttering lashes and a blurry vision, you see his clenched jaw and taut neck and heaving chest.

Eddie always talks a big game when he gets you all sweet and pliable underneath him. He loves to be dominant while he tears you apart, but as his own orgasm crawls up his spine, his true colors start to show.

He leans back over you again, caging you beneath his warm weight. He stops hiding his pathetic whines and whimpers and instead buries them into your sweat-slick shoulder. He babbles in your ear, a bunch of garbled nothingness because words are starting to lose meaning.

“Fuck, honey. Oh, fuck— you’re so fucking— shit. You’re so goddamn pretty, baby, you know that? So good for me. So soft, too. Shit. This pussy’s gonna kill me.”

He tucks his face into your neck and tries to kiss you through his whines. His ringed fingers crawl behind your back, holding you like his life depends on it while his measured thrusts grow rapid and sloppy.

Eddie begs you to cum, or rather demands it because he can feel himself about to explode. “Cum— Cum for me— right fucking now.”

You do. You’ve been hanging by a thread the whole time, really. And like you expected, Eddie’s not too far behind you. Your unabashed moans entwine, mixing with the wild cadence of the rain against the tin roof of the rocking van.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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ram32389 · 2 years

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Sleep Instantly 10 Hours Heavy RAIN with Thunderstorm https://youtu.be/SY9V-_4CuzA

#Sleep Immediately #Rain #Heavy Rain #Rain Sounds #Riotous Thunder #Riotous Rain #Rain and Thunder Sounds #Rain on a Tin Roof #Rain at Night #Rain and Thunder at Night #Rain on Metal Roof #Rain Sounds for Sleeping #Riotous

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writing-wh0re · 4 months

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“That's my girl, you take cock so well.”

♥ pairing: professor!nanami x professor!reader

♥ summary: Based on this ask “Reader is a new young and fun professor at the college and works in the same hall as Nanami. She challenges Nanami and his old school ways. Nanami ends up folding her up in his expensive car after class ends and makes her submit to him. ”

♥ warnings: smut 18+, oral, female performing oral, spit, slight throat fucking, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, car sex, cowgirl, mention of hickies, slight begging, pet names: baby, little plot with banter.

♥ wc: 2,523

♥ masterlist & taglist

You watch the tall blonde man in awe, with every comment written against the exam, his arm flexes ever so slightly, tensing the muscles with each stroke. God what you would give to feel his arms around your body, his hands on you.

Nanami reaches up to adjust his glasses causing a small panic to rush through you, not wanting to be caught eye fucking the man. You quickly move your mouse around, clicking blindly on the screen, fringing busyness.

“Y/n.”

You look up towards Nanami, embarrassingly quick, your mind in two places, hoping he didn’t catch you.

“I’m half way through these exams, could you cross mark this pile for me?”

You eyes glance over at the stack of stapled paper, at least 30 students work all compiled together.

“Paper exams? C’mon Nanami, that’s just punishing yourself.”

Nanami smirks slightly watching you move from your desk to his.

“It keeps my students honest.”

“Yeah and bored, I’m surprised anyone has a pen on them these days.”

You grab the stack of papers and head back to your desk before stopping yourself.

“Speaking of pens.” You trail off as Nanami presents you his red pen, knowingly having a pencil case full of others.

“Thanks.” Blush nips at your cheeks, adding a mental note to buy yourself pens.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence, each going over the exams. After a while your wrist starts to cramp.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“Hmm.” Nanami hums, keeping his eyes on the test in front of him.

“How is your wrist not killing you? Cross marking my exams will be so much easier.”

Nanami chuckles, his eyes finally leaving the paper and connecting with yours.

“Why don’t you print yours out for me?”

“Why don’t I just give you a lesson in technology?”

A small smirk crosses his lips as he sits back in his chair, loosening his tie and crossing his arms over his chest.

“I have all night if you do.”

“Oh Nanami.” You sigh, wait, is that blush on his cheeks? You quickly push past the thought and continue. “You doubt my abilities, I’m a great teacher, it won’t take all night.”

Nanami smiles, looking at the window as thunder rumbles through the sky.

“Although, with your elderly ways yours might be the most time consuming.”

Nanami laughs, shaking his head at you before picking up his pen and continuing with his marking.

God, you wish you could have recorded that sound.

| | |

“Okay, now this document allows for students to collaborate virtually, I use these documents to not force students into sectioned group work”

Nanami sighs, sitting back in his chair that is now squeezed in beside you.

“You’ll have to write this down for me.”

“The more you do it, the easier it will get.” You smile at him, watching as he nods, a slight frown over his brow.

“Hey, if you’d like I can come into a class when you’re introducing it to your students and help along the way.”

“The students won’t need help.”

“I wasn’t talking about the students.”

A silence falls between you two, the sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, the wind howling against the windows as rain begins to pitter patter against the tin roof.

“I’d appreciate that.” Nanami smiles, looking over his shoulder at the window.

“We should head home, before this storm keeps us here.”

“Uh yeah, you go, I decided to take the bus this morning so I’ll wait it out.”

“The bus?”

“Yeah, it's this huge metal box on wheels with little to no personal space.”

Nanami scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll drive you home, smartass.”

You heartbeat picks up, he will drive you? God sitting next to him at your desk was hard enough but contained in his car? Fuck.

“You really don’t have to, I wouldn't want-”

“Y/n, it wasn’t a question.”

You huff slightly, his authoritative voice sending a wave of arousal to your core.

The wind outside picks up as Nanami packs up his papers.

“C’mon, I don’t want us caught in the storm.”

You nod, quickly packing up your desk and following behind the tall man. While trailing behind you reach into your bag, quickly spritzing yourself with your perfume the hints of vanilla and bergamot floating in the air.

Nanami holds the door open for you. You gingerly step outside, although under cover, the wind blows your hair across your face, the chill causing you to shiver. You tense slightly as Nanami places his hand on the middle of you back. He bends down, the rain picking up as he whispers in your ear, his warm minty breath fanning against your cheek.

“I’m the blue mercedes over there.” He presses his car key causing the yellow lights to flash once. “It’s unlocked but we’ve got to run, the rain won't slow for us.”

You simply nod at his instruction knowing your voice would struggle to compete against the downpour. Nanami’s hand leaves your back, he quickly checks his surroundings before rushing into the rain. You’re quick to follow behind him, stepping in a few small puddles as the water splashes against your bare legs, your skirt not providing any warmth or coverage from the water.

You slide into the passenger seat, the leather slippery under your rain soaked skin.

The air of the car is filled with both of your heavy breathing, both of you taking a moment to catch your breath from the rush. You look over at Nanami, his blonde hair dripping water down his face, the droplets falling from his strong jaw. His eyes lock with yours, your hair also wet and sticking to you. Small droplets are stuck to your eyelashes, running down your face with each blink.

Both of you smile at each other, laughter filling the air at your small adventure. The rain picks up, accompanied by lightning and thunder. The front windscreen mimics a waterfall, the car ever so slightly rocking from the gusts of wind.

“That’s one way to get me wet.” You joke as Nanami leans his head back against the headrest.

“Not how I intended.” Nanami whispers, if you weren't so close to him you would have missed it.

You look over at him, his blue shirt stuck to his toned chest, his skin silky with water.

“How did you intend?”

The words leave your lips in a breath, almost inaudible, not sure where it could take you or if you want him to hear.

Nanami stays quiet, a deep sigh falling from his parted lips. You almost want to take it back and act like you asked a different question but his eyes capture yours, his hand falling to your knee.

“Taking you out, treating you to dinner and maybe, if you considered me lucky enough, spending the night with you and showing you how to use that smart mouth of yours.”

Your breathing hitches as his fingers trace shapes on your thigh. You take in what he’s just told you, your heartbeat picking up and your body becoming warm as the water on your skin feels sticky. Nanami goes to pull his hand away from you, believing he has overstepped but you grab his wrist.

“Show me.”

Nanami smirks at you, dragging his fingertips up your body, his hand caressing your cheek and turning you to face him. His thumb hovers over your lips, his eyes darken as you press a kiss against his fingertip. He drags your bottom lip down, your tongue licking against the digit as he slips it past your lips.

“Fuck.” He breaths, watching your lips wrap around his thumb, your tongue slowly swirling around it. He pulls his hand away from your mouth, tangling his hand in your hair and pulling you closer to him, your lips ghosting against him.

“Kento, please.”

Nanami swallows harshly, his forehead resting upon yours.

“Say that again.”

“Kento.”

He groans before connecting your lips together. Your hands fly to his face pulling him against you. Your tongues tangle against each other, his fingers scratching against your scalp. You rest one hand on his shoulder, the other running down his chest. You moan against his lips as you touch his body, your fingers pulling on the buttons.

He pulls away from you, your eyes locking with his tiny water droplets on his glasses from his hair.

“Get in the back.”

You quickly shuffle into the back, more room that you thought. You wait in the middle as Nanami pulls his tie off, opening his door and stepping into the rain before sliding in beside you. The windows in the car begin to fog up at the brief edition of cold air.

Nanami rests against the seat, looking over at you and gesturing for you to get on top of him. You’re quick to straddle his waist, your skirt bunching up around your hips, the blue lace of your panties sticking to your dampening core. His fingers grip your waist, pulling you against him as your lips mould together. He leans forward slightly, holding you tight and kissing down the column of your throat as your moans fill the air, competing with the rain. His hands slip under your skirt, guiding your hips against his crotch, his moans mixing with yours.

Your hands slip between your bodies, fumbling with his belt and pulling his shirt from the waistband. You move to slip your hand into his pants before he stops you.

“Oh baby, I haven’t used your mouth yet.”

You nod at his statement, wiggling on the seat and slipping down into the footwell as Nanami chuckles at your eagerness. He helps you free his cock which has your mouthwatering, the long member throbbing at it’s freedom before you wrap your hand around the base.

Nanami rests one arm against the head rests of the back seat, his other hand caressing your cheek as you trail your tongue up his cock. The moment your lips wrap around the tip he thrusts into your throat, a gag filling the air as he coo’s at you encouragingly.

“You can take it, show me baby.”

You move your mouth up and down his member, his hand moves from your cheek to your hair, holding it away from your face to ensure he doesn’t miss a moment of his cock disappearing past your spit covered lips.

Nanami slowly rocks his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat as your eyes water. Your hand pumps his cock faster, watching as he tips his head back against the headrest, moaning your name into the air. You’d continue this for the rest of your life to hear him moan for you over and over. You go to pull back as he holds you still, keeping his cock buried in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut at the action causing him to release; you pull back with a gasp, his cock popping from your lips. Spit sticks to the tip leading a trail to your lips. Small pools of drool have formed around your mouth, your eyes glistening with tears.

Nanami winks at you, bending down and placing a soft kiss to your lips. His hands fall to your biceps, helping to pull you up from the footwell and to his lap. He brushes your hair away from your face, kissing your slightly swollen lips, his teeth grazing against your bottom lip before pulling back, his eyes locking with yours.

You break his eye contact, pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. Silently thanking yourself for choosing a matching set this morning. Nanami rests against the seat, watching you undress for him, taking in every curve and mark on your torso, his fingers slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His hands fall to your tits, massaging the skin, a small smile on his face.

“So beautiful.”

Blush heats up your face, goosebumps littering your skin.

“Please Kento.” You grind your hips against his hard cock earning a hiss to fall from his lips. The lace of your panties scratching the sensitive head.

Nanami leans forward, kissing your breasts, sucking against the skin, leaving his mark on your body. Something you’re bound to be looking at for days.He runs his hands down your body, gripping your ass tight. He bunches your skirt up higher, looking down at your clothed pussy.

His eyes lock with yours silently asking permission before you nod eagerly. He pulls your pants to the side, a small chuckle vibrating through his chest at your wetness. Nanami drags his cock up your slit, nudging your clit with the head.

“God you’re tight.” He hisses, sliding against your slick walls.

“Fuck, so big.” Your hands rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the skin.

Nanami holds you in place, capturing your lips with his, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass.

You softly rock your hips, his hands guiding you, helping you set a rhythm. You alternate between swirling your hips side to side and rocking back and fourth. Continuing to pull moans from his lips like a prayer, yours accompanying his.

You lean back, your shoulders resting against the backside of the driver seat, watching as his cock slips in and out of your pussy.

“That's my girl, you take cock so well”

His girl.

The simple comment causes your pussy to flutter around his cock, tightening.

Nanami licks his lips, reaching towards your lips and slipping his middle finger into your open mouth. You moan around him, swirling your tongue as your eyes close. He pulls the digit from your lips and places it against your clit causing your breath to hitch.

“Oh fuck.”

Nanami keeps his eyes fixated on your pussy, watching his cock slide in and out, his free hand helping you keep a rhythm as he circles your clit with his finger.

“Don’t stop.” You moan as Nanami’s hips thrust up into you, his pace on your clit picking up slightly. You place you free hand against the roof of his car, your body tensing as your eyes squeeze shut.

“Kento.” You moan loud, your rhythm slowing, your cum covering his cock, the sound of your wetness floating around the car. Nanami groans low, pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you as he fucks you through your release, chasing his own.

Your lips fall to his neck, kissing, biting and sucking the skin. He places a hand against your head, the other staying wrapped around you, a low moan vibrating through his chest. The thunder outside rumbles against the car, his cock twitching deep inside of you. A warmth fills you, his hips slowing, his fingertips dragging up and down your back soothingly, the other running through your hair. You pull back from him, looking over his neck, the faintest hickies showing on his skin.

“Let me get you home.” Nanami kisses your forehead, helping you slip off his cock and sliding your pantines back across.

“For round two?” You wink which causes blush to tint his cheeks.

Taglist - Tag yourself here

@zagreusdaughter @sunshinemunchkin @alina02 @veryspookybatbabe @maybesandohnos @mathletemadison @themoonis-beautiful-tonight @skarlettmikaelson @darling2800 @reynaandeny @uwiuwi @anythingandeverything97 @fckve @nyx2021 @alexxavicry @thehumanistsdiary @anonreaderas @i-love-scott-mccall

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sarahthebanished · 2 years

Note

Can you write a little drabble where Eddie wakes you up in the middle of the night all worked up and horny? Heehee I love your writing.

Content warnings: 18+ only, minors DNI. Strong sexual content. Oral sex. Face fucking. Cum swallowing. Mild praise. There is no explicit mentions that indicate reader is either male or female. You were pulled from your sleep by the sensation of Eddie’s hands, cold rings pressed against your warm skin, as he softly rubbed them along your side. You whined, eyes fluttering, and closing again. He kneaded at your flesh, hands moving up and down the length of side and down your thigh and back again.

“I’m sleepy baby,” you mumbled out, not opening your eyes. You were sleeping so deep, the heavy rain on the tin roof of the trailer lulling you. The room was dark, cold, and you were wrapped tightly under the comforter with Eddie next to you. Paradise.

Eddie loved to touch you. Running his hands all over your flesh any chance he got. It wasn’t unusual for him to wake you up, turned on and wanting. His hand found the curve of your ass and he pawed at it, leaning it to plant tender kisses on your forehead and cheek. You shifted slightly, freeing an arm and seeking to touch him, too.

Eyes closed and still half asleep, you found his hardness through his shorts and pressed down. He bucked up into the touch, creating wonderful friction for himself. “Needy baby,” you cooed out, smiling at the feeling of him so hard for you.

“I am needy,” Eddie explained, laying back. “So, so needy,” he teased, pressing up into your hand again. You moved over to be closer to him, laying your head on his lower belly, face just inches away from the head of his throbbing cock.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You challenged, inviting him to take what he needed.

Eddie reached down and pulled at his shorts to release his hardness, and brought a hand to the back of your head, ever so gently pushing you towards it. Your tongue came out, to lick and tease his tip. Eddie hissed at the contact.

He grabbed himself at the base, rubbing the head of his cock in a circle on your lips before lifting his hips to enter.

You let him in. Laying there in his lap, tongue flat and lips taught, you let Eddie fuck himself in and out of your mouth.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned out, “so fucking good.” This was a common phrase. There was never a time when you put his dick in your mouth that he didn’t praise you for it. You loved it.

You let Eddie use you, alternating between fast and shallow thrusts and slow deeper ones, drool falling from the side of your lips and pooling on his skin. This went on for several minutes as Eddie edged himself, coming right to the brink of bliss and then pulling himself back from it.

The sounds of his ecstasy filled the dark room. Deep gasps, shorts breaths, hisses, throaty grunts, quiet moans. It created a need of your own. But, you were perfectly happy to be pleasing him. You loved when he used you - when he masturbated with your body. It made you feel sexy and powerful.

Reaching a hand around to massage at his balls, Eddie reacted with a sudden jerk. “Oh, fuck, that’s good.” Eddie encouraged you. “Gonna cum,” he warned you and within a second he was spilling out, his thrust going from desperate and needy to slow and deliberate as he milked himself dry. You swallowed every drop he gave you, and when he stilled, you pulled your mouth away and applied a delicate kiss to his tip before letting the softening cock rest against his thigh.

“Can we go back to sleep now?” You asked with sincerity, turning your face to look up at him in the darkness. Eddie ran a hand across your cheek tenderly, using his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth before he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Yes, baby, we can go back to sleep now.”

#eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie smut #smut prompts #gender nuetral reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #stranger things #eddie munson smut #drabble #smut prompt #smut requests #eddie munson fic #smut fic

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usedtobecooler · 9 months

Text

dropping monday 14/08…

this must be the place

eddie munson x steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: the summer of 1985 is only just beginning when a trip to scoops ahoy! unlocks some deeply hidden feelings you have swirling in your stomach for steve harrington. eddie munson won't let you live it down, and maybe that’s due to his own feelings too, but a chance encounter on a hot night at lovers lake sends you all down a rabbit hole you could never of prepared for.

content warnings: 18+ only minors dni, sexual content (threesome, piv sex, oral sex, dirty talk, van sex), porn with plot, eddie and reader are fwbs with feelings, gentle bullying and banter, eddie is canonically queer, mentions of past king!steve, brief homophobia mentions, a heartfelt conversation. feelings are felt on all three sides, if you don't like it look away <3 reader isn't explicitly described as alt/goth but it's implied.

sneak peek below the cut

You watch curiously as the Harrington charm working it’s magic right in front of your very eyes, Steve steps in close to Linda, brushes a loose curl back — Jesus Christ, why was that doing something for you — and says something you can’t make out, but it’s enough to have Linda blushing and pulling nervously on the hem of her denim shorts.

Why were you jealous?

The telltale noise of an obnoxiously loud horn beeping lets you — and probably the entire neighbourhood — know Eddie had arrived to pick you up, snapping you completely out of your daydream. Your lips curl up into a smirk when both Linda and Steve jump ten feet at the sound, Steve rolling his eyes and scoffing.

What a bitch.

Eddie catches you looking from your window and lets out an obnoxious laugh, grinning up at you with his annoyingly perfect teeth. You wanted to punch him, maybe, but Friday nights were for one thing and one thing only, and that was getting high at Lovers Lake in the flatbed of the van.

So it’d have to wait until you didn’t need him for the weed or the ride.

Summer meant the pretty sunset as a backdrop whilst you smoked the day's events away — it somehow made everything that little bit more relaxing, watching the swirls of orange, pink and purple melt together as your brain fogged with the drugs, a nice settling in your tummy as your high took over.

It was second only to the heavy September rain that you loved so much, you found yourself yearning for it all year around. The loud patter of the large droplets clinking on the tin roof of Eddie’s van, buried under a nest of blankets to keep the cool chill off your arms and legs. Eddie’s hot breath fanning over your neck as he kissed it, chest heavy against your back. Warm, solid and comforting.

Maybe you were in love with him, or maybe you weren’t. You didn’t want to think too much about that.

You glide out of the house as quietly as you can muster, not wanting to arouse suspicion about where you were going. Even in your twenties, your parents would still have a few choice words for you in regards to Eddie Munson, and you were in no mood for the lecture. You’d heard it too many times in the years you’d known him, since fifth grade when he pushed you in the playground and you pulled his hair in retaliation.

From that moment on you were inseparable, to the dismay of your parents.

You’re aware of two other sets of eyes watching you from across the street as you bounce down the driveway, all smiles as excitement thrums through your entire body. Eddie’s maybe looking at you like you hung the fucking moon or something, but that’s probably to do with the fact you’re wearing his shirt and looking the epitome of hot.

Okay, maybe you had a complex.

“So that’s where my shirt went,” Eddie hums, giving you an appreciative once-over as you wrench the passenger door open with a horrific sounding crunch of metal, “looks better on you, I’ve gotta say.”

You clamber into the van with a huff, laughter spilling into it, “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to woo me, Munson. We’re gonna fuck anyway, don’t worry.”

Eddie laughs loud and so fucking obnoxious, as if for somebody else’s entertainment, and it does catch the attention of the lovebirds on the other side of the road. You look over just as Steve catches your eyes, and suddenly your chest feels kind of heavy as he stares at you with a kind of intensity that you can’t put a finger on.

“Take a fuckin’ picture, Harrington,” Eddie cackles, head basically out the fucking window and he’s grinning at them both, snapping you completely out of it, “that’s as close as you’re getting to her, count your lucky stars.”

Eddie and Steve weren’t friends. In fact quite the opposite. Steve and Tommy were miserable assholes for years, made Eddie’s life hell at any given turn unless they needed him for drugs.

You think back, and truthfully the turning point was during Junior year. Steve had tripped Eddie in the hall, called him ‘queer’. Eddie didn’t stand for that, sucker punched Steve right in the jaw, hard enough that his skull hit the locker adjacent to him.

“That shit might hurt you when your daddy calls you it, but you’ve gotta do a lot worse than call me exactly what I am as an insult, Harrington.” Eddie had grinned, vicious and seething, as he watched Steve clutch desperately at his bruised jaw, wide eyed and hair askew from the force.

Steve never bothered Eddie again after that.

In fact, not long after, Steve never bothered anybody again. Maybe the knock to the head had quite literally knocked some sense into him, or something.

“You good?” Eddie’s voice, his large hand gripping your thigh knocks you back into reality, out of the daydream, and the grounding is enough to have your entire body melting into the simple touch.

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x steve harrington x reader #my fanfic #mine #x reader #this must be the place

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eddiesghxst · 10 months

Text

whenever it rains, it’s ridiculously loud in eddie’s trailer, you could practically sleep outside and get the same experience (aside from getting a little wet, obviously).

eddie, however, because he’s lived there for so long, doesn’t hear a thing. he sleeps like a baby through every single noise you could imagine, not even flinching when a small hail storm blows through. at first you don’t understand, you think eddie’s insane because how could anyone sleep soundly with this much noise going on?

until one night, you’re at your own house tossing and turning in your bed for hours before you give up and drive over to eddie’s because for some fucking reason, you admittedly miss it. you miss the loud pelting of rain and the whistling of the wind with the scraping sound of tree branches against the tin-like roof.

eddie’s mad that you drove in the middle of a storm, but let’s you in either way. you don’t tell him why you came, but eddie seems to understand when you both lay down, tangled in each other and let the loud beating of rain fill out the silence of his room. eddie can physically feel your body relax into his and he immediately knows—- he gets it because he’s the same way. it barely takes 5 minutes before you’re both knocked out and snoring.

eddie definitely teases you about it at the table the next morning, makes a joke that “you should just move in at this rate,” but wayne quickly shuts that down, “save up and move in next door, kids, i don’t need to see anymore than i’ve already seen.”

#all my trailer park girlies know the noise i’m talking abt #sounds like a fucking war #when i was younger i lived in a trailer and storms used to scare the shit out of me bc they were so loud #but sometimes i miss it #it felt like a little cave #i want to be in a little cave in the storm w eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #drabble #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #eddie munson headcanon #eddie x y/n #eddie x gn!reader

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spectres-n-soap · 3 months

Text

You keep The Rain at Bay - Soap x reader x Ghost

Content Warnings - Angst, pregnancy, afab body, MW3 is canon, emotional breakdowns

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

It was late at night. The blistering hot day of Al Mazrah had turned into a freezing cold night. The stars burned bright in the clear night sky. You sat on the tin roof of a flimsy "safe house" on the first watch. Your rifle sat next to you as the minutes rolled into hours. It was nice out here at night. No bullets firing, no commands or yelling. No blood, just sore legs from the long walk.

You turned your head to the left and watched in silence as Soap climbed onto the roof with you. Soap sat down next to you. For a moment the two of you sat in silence, the natural sounds of Al Mazrah being the only thing filling your ears until you finally spoke.

"Aren't you meant to be getting some rest?" You asked and leaned back on your hands to look at him better.

"Couldn't." He simply replied.

You snorted, "Don't go all Ghost on me." You teased, wagging your finger at him before gently nudging him. Soap rolled his eyes but didn't stop the small smile that grew on his face.

"Alright. Ye got me. Thought ye'd like some company." Soap admitted and raised his palms before he moved just a bit closer to you.

"How considerate of you to think about me Soap." You said, a smile on your face. It was hard not to smile when he did. It was hard not to laugh when he did too.

"Ye nervous lass?" Soap asked, his blue eyes on the stars above. Did he know the constellations?

You shrugged before you thought about it a bit longer, "I guess." You admitted. Soap said nothing so you continued, "I don't know why. Maybe it's because Ghost is here."

"He scare ye?"

"No. I'm scared I'll fuck up and make myself look a fool." You said and pushed a few loose strands of hair from your face. "Is that stupid?" Soap looked at you as if you had just committed a cardinal sin.

"No." He said firmly, "Not at all. I was nervous when I first met him too." Soap inched his hand closer to yours, "He might be rough 'round the edges but he has a heart of gold somewhere in that chest of his."

"Sounds like you speak from experience."

"Aye. I suppose I do." Friendship was not in the field manual. Neither was checking up on a fellow task force member in the freezing Al Mazrah night. You look at him and take a moment to really take him in.

Soap had a scar on his chin subtly hidden behind stubble that certainly wasn't within regulation. Honestly, nothing about Soap was within regulation, perhaps that is why you placed your hand atop of his. You didn't join the military and clawed your way into the SAS for safety or security. Thats why you were sat on a roof in the middle east, holding hands with Soap MacTavish in silence.

Ghost did not like that look your eyes. That glazed, far off look. It was two in the morning, after he had received your call he had broken nearly every traffic law that came to mind to rush to your place. It wasn't your words that made him rush, it was your voice. Normally it was strong and confident, not a waiver in sight. But when you had spoken in that call, you sounded as if you could barely speak. Ghost kept glancing at you as he made tea for the both of you. He set the mug in front of you before sliding into the chair closest to you.

Your eyes are red, tear stains on your cheeks and look tired. Exhausted. Ghost whispers your name and you pull yourself from whatever trance you are in. "What happened?" He asks.

"I'm sorry." You mutter. "I just- I mean. God." You lean your head back as tears build up on your waterline.

Ghost hesitates, thinks about his next action and slowly, as if petting a spooked animal, places his hand atop of yours. You startle and pull your hand away, "I dreamt of that day." You whisper, head down like you were in a confessional. You clasp your hands together.

"The day he died?" Ghost asks softly: quietly.

You shake your head, "The day I met his family." Ghost stiffens, his breathing stops for just a second before he recovers.

"Ghost, there are no words to describe the look on his mum's face. We both just looked at the bag of his ashes and I don't know. His absence really sunk in." You ramble, placing your head in your hands as you began to cry. "They don't know." You admit at last. "Its eat me alive that they don't know but I feel like I'll fall apart if I try to even enter Scotland."

What was he meant to say? What was he meant to do? You recoil at every touch of his, you only open up when you breakdown and you're ten weeks away from your due date. "Do you want them to know?" Ghost asks.

"Yes. No. Maybe?" A bitter laugh comes from your throat, although it mixes with a sob. "I don't even know why I called you. What can you do?"

"I'd come with you." Ghost says. "To see him family." Silence. "If you'd have me."

You look up at him and wipe away any tears, something lurches in his heart at the sight. "I'm sorry for being awful earlier." You say, "For being awful in general. He- Johnny- I think he loved you too. He never said it out loud but you knew him. Always wore his heart on his sleeve."

"Did you hate me for it?"

"No."

He- Simon you suppose, stays that night on your couch. For a while you can't seem to sleep, having another person in your flat, stranger or not, felt like letting a fox into a chicken coop. Your phone let you see the slow passage of time as your body forces itself into a protective mode.

3 am, 3:30 am, 3:45 am. You think you fell asleep at five. The few hours of sleep did nothing to help your mood as you painted the nursery yellow. You left a wall white simply to keep the room looking nice, certainly not because you ran out of paint.

You stare at the text message that had just dinged from your phone. Simon leans over your shoulder to see it as well. "You have an appointment?" He asks, upset clear in his voice, "In an hour?"

You shrug, trying to seem unaffected despite the churning of your stomach. "Its just the last ultrasound. One last check up before the due date."

Simon shakes his head. He grabs his keys and motions to the door. For once, you listen.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #call of duty #soap #cod #john soap mctavish x you #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #cod mw3 #ghost x soap x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #soap x you #soap x reader

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rustedhearts · 9 months

Text

severed lamb: part iv: white horse (pastor!steve x fem!reader)

summary: all your sinning plagues wyndgate with a summer storm. pastor steve tempts you with a drive home in the dark. you know it's wrong, but you just can't stay away.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♰ severed lamb masterlist ♰ ♰ main masterlist ♰

tags: religious imagery/trauma, age gap (steve is 35, reader is 19), heavy petting, manipulation, abuse of power, coercion, a whole lot of god guilt.

recommended listening: if you know anything about anything, you'll listen to family tree by ethel cain.

♰ wyndgate, georgia, august 1981 ♰

The rain pattering down on the old tin roof of Wyndgate's Dairy Mart sounded like hail. The wheels of the cart squealed and hissed their way down the linoleum tiles of the bread aisle, metal jostling and clanking with every hurried step. You snatched a loaf of Wonderbread and tossed it in the back, rushing on before you could be stopped by somebody's mama asking where the cereal was.

Ever since you went to the church last week to see Pastor Steve, you felt like God set a pair of eyes on you. They followed you everywhere, scrutinizing your every move. Sometimes it was the gas station clerk handing you a pack of bubble gum. Sometimes it was your mama's friend Sal lounging on the sofa with a beer on his thigh. Other times, you were just lyin' in bed, feeling some phantom stare burn a hole into your head.

God was watching you. You could feel His judgement pouring down on you like that heavy rain. Drenching you in terrible, sickening guilt for all that sinnin'.

But when the lights went out and the world went dark, and no eyes could find you to set their judgement upon you, you awed. Warmth touched your lips where Steve's had been, buzzing and tingling like bee stings. Fingertips skating over the plump flesh, you felt the surface where Steve had set his tongue. How it wriggled and slithered, cleaning away remnants of sweet cherry blood.

Slipping the first knuckle past your lips, you pinched your eyes shut and imagined they were his. His hand heavy and fingers slender, skin hot and pulsing with blood, calluses firm and tough on your tongue. You wondered what sort of work a preacher got up to with hands like that. He taste came with a little tang of old sweat.

"Whoa!"

You skirted to a stop, jolting at the pull of the cart in your hands as it slammed into another. Eyes free of lustful fog, you gaped at your victim with warm cheeks and teary eyes. The woman, cradling a young child against her hip, glared at you beneath a set of blunt, blonde bangs.

"I-I'm so sorry, ma'am," you stammered, hand flying to your chest to fondle the gold cross.

She swerved the nose of her cart around yours, eyes sharp and narrow the whole way. "Best watch where you're goin', girl."

The woman whizzed past you with the child, disappearing down the aisle with the whoosh and squeak of rusty, damp cart wheels. You heard the child babbling something nonsensical an aisle over. Your heart hammered heavy in your throat, pulsing at the back of your neck. The Lord was watching you—and now, He was making a fool of you, too. More punishment for those filthy thoughts.

You adjusted, cleared your throat, and pushed the cart on. You had a list of things to get for Mama, and she wouldn't be pleased to know you were dilly-dallying.

Mama had been belligerent all week. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner consisted of cigarettes and wine. It was up to you to cook a meal, but trying to feed it to her felt like shoving applesauce at an infant. Mama's belligerence came with a temper that waxed and waned. You knew never which mother you were gonna get.

Today, she was quiet. She scribbled a grocery list, smacked a few bills on the table, and told you to 'get.' The sky only started to blacken and cloud when you were walking into town, toes aching and calves sore. If the trek to town wasn't bad enough, all the twirling you'd been doing only made it worse.

You weren't sure you could dance the sins away, but you did your best to try. To combat the lustful thoughts and memories of what you'd done at the church, you went to the barn and slipped on your new pointe shoes. But the feel of fresh, smooth silk on your skin, and the tough, gruesome squeeze of hard glue around your toes just reminded you of him. Those sensations were a gift from him.

On more than one occasion in the past week did you collapse to the sticky barn floor with heaving breaths, throbbing between your legs and writhing for air. Flesh slick with sweat, beading along the backs of your knees and crooks of your elbows, fingers sliding through the wetness to slip beneath your shorts. It was only when you brushed the soft, sensitive button beneath your underwear that you recoiled and gasped. The pulsing arousal shriveled away like petals wilting in the blazing sun, replaced with sharp-toothed disgust derived from the guilt only God and Georgia could provoke.

You swallowed thickly as you turned the corner toward the dairy aisle. The milk carton came with a black and white photograph of Bethanne Lee, a girl missing since January. She was only two years younger than you. You set the carton in the cart and turned her face away.

♰ ♰

A few miles in the direction of home, the sky shuddered with thunder. A streak of lightning slashed through the clouds in menacing white light, and then the rain came down again. You waited it out for fifteen minutes under the awning at the Dairy Mart, clutching the paper bags full of food with shaking fists. Now, in the shower, the paper thinned.

Shrieking, you did your best to shield them from the storm as you picked up the pace. Sandals slapping against wet gravel, squeaking over slick grass, you huffed and puffed and cursed your sinning for putting you in this predicament. This was more punishment from God, no doubt.

The crunch of tires rolling over the road, muffled by the noisy smack of raindrops on the ground, caused you to halt. Headlights beaconed through the hazy darkness. The world usually so sun-bleached and yellow, faded at the edges by time and rust, appeared grey and blue in its current plague. The bright car lights brought a sliver of white to it, blinding you until the vehicle screeched to a stop beside you.

The window cranked down, and dangling through the gap came Pastor Steve's leather-banded watch. Sleeves rolled to his elbow, cheeks flushed and swollen with heat, he tapped two fingers on the wet car door and passed you a smile.

"Need a ride?"

Temptation. The Lord's Prayer gathered on the tip of your tongue just at the sight of him. The burgundy of his sleek BMW deepened in the world's state of darkness. The swampy green and gold of his eyes seemed to adopt a muddy brown. And his skin, sun-kissed bronze by the Georgian sun, held a glowing shine.

Steve met his cheek to his shoulder, a coy grin toying with the corner of his lip. "Delilah. Come get in the car."

He cooed. He called to you the way you coax a stray to come close. Gentle, tempting, a smoothness that enticed. You couldn't blame your feet for stepping forward, arms hugged tight around the paper bags soaked thin with rainwater.

"Come on," Steve chuckled, patting the leather of he passenger seat beside him. "I ain't gon' bite ya."

Once you were next to him, Pastor Steve rolled up the windows. The patter of rain grew muffled, pounding on the roof of the car with sharp metallic pings. The heat in the car thickened immediately, and the murmuring whir coming from the vents led you to believe the air conditioning didn't work much. Your thighs suctioned to the seats, clamped close together, gathering pools of rainwater dripping from the grocery bags.

"Your mama send you to the store?"

You glanced at him, bobbing your head with a deep swallow. He switched hands on the wheel, and the whoosh of air came with a waft of his smell. Your stomach clenched at the presence of it, thighs tightening.

"Poor thing out in all this rain." Steve's mouth drooped into a frown, but his eyes were bright with an invisible grin.

Your shoes squeaked together on the car floor. The dry spots of the paper bags crinkled as you reached over them for your necklace. In the driver seat, Steve tore his eyes away from the road to watch you. Something about the way you fondled that cross—delicate, soothing ministrations—always made him twitch.

Before he could withhold himself, his hand darted across the center console toward your lap. His big palm swept over your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress, smearing droplets of rain into your skin. Your body gave a jerk, a sharp gasp tumbling from your lips. You caught sight of his knuckles over your lap just as his fingers slipped away.

"A lil' wet there," Steve remarked, lip quirked with amusement at the shortness of your breath.

"I-I—Pastor y-you can't—"

His hand returned, slithering over your leg until it disappeared beneath the skirt of your dress. You froze, watching with blurred vision as his palm traced the swell of your thigh. Your chest felt like it was caving in, lungs shriveling and leaving no space for air as the pads of his fingers brushed the elastic of your underwear.

Your body began to tremble: calves quaking against the seat, knees wobbling, stomach twisting and clenching. His index grazed the front of your underwear where slickness pooled.

"Here, too." His voice was quiet, airy with shallowed breath and wonderment.

But when you gazed over, his eyes were on the road.

The tip of his finger pressed firmly against your sensitive flesh cupped behind the thin fabric of your underwear, yanking a sharp gasp from your throat. You throbbed against his touch, hips shifting—you weren’t sure if they were aiming away from him or toward him.

Head turning toward the window, you caged your lip between your teeth to stifle the chance of more noises as the pastor’s touch roughened. Two fingers now, pushing into your pulsing core over cotton, sticky with the thrill. Steve took this moment to gaze over at you, delighting in your flushed skin and twisting body. He felt it settle into his own body—that aching need, that festering desire. Lust overwhelmed him. His pants strained around the crotch with his excitement.

“Does that feel good, Delilah,” Steve drawled, tone low and silky.

You inhaled deeply, trying to see past the fuzzy spots clouding your vision, trying to work your way through the tingles attacking your bones. Fingers curling into fists, you shifted back into a straight position in the passenger seat, muscles constricting tensely as pleasure swished around inside you. The grocery bags seemed to have clambered to the floor somewhere in the daze.

“W-we can’t—“

Steve disrupted the barrier: slipping a finger beneath the elastic band of your underwear, and bringing it to the smooth skin beneath. The warmth that waited for him made him huff a laugh, throaty and perverted.

He fixed you with a soft, endearing look, all round eyes and pouted mouth. “Can’t what? Can’t feel good? Doesn’t it feel good, sweetheart?”

Swallowing thickly, you nodded despite every bone in your body telling you to deny it. This was the devil overtaking you, making you give over to this sinful pleasure. Shame jolted in your body at the same wavelength desire did—they melded together until you could barely discern the difference anymore.

“How can somethin’ that feels so good be a sin?” Steve cooed, sweeping his finger through the pool of gooey cream collecting beneath your panties, brushing over the most sensitive part of your body.

Back curling off the seat, you mewled into the roof of the car and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Anybody ever touched you like this, Delilah?”

You shook your head fervently, banging against the seat with your thrashing. Your nails bit into your palms with a piercing nip. His voice, deep and lush like a sticky summer evening in the woods, only intensified the churning and whirling in your belly. You weren’t sure how much longer you could contain yourself. Heat swelled in your cheeks painfully, brought sweat beads to your limbs. You wanted to let go. But—

“N-no, never—never! M’ a good girl, Pastor,” you cried, bucking up into his hand as two fingers slid down toward your pulsating hole.

Steve swept his tongue over his teeth, licking away a grin as he placed his eyes back on the road. “Oh, honey. I know.”

Your breaths shortened to hoarse little gasps, wheezy and shallow. Pleasure wound its choking knot and you weren’t sure you could hold back from it much longer. Steve took note of the way your fists flexed and trembled, the way your face almost purpled with fight. He dipped the start of one finger into the tightness of your hole and watched your mouth gape with a silent cry you refused to let loose.

Always the good girl, always the angel. Couldn’t you sin just for him, the way he’s sinning for you?

“You’re right with The Lord, Delilah. I’m sure He’ll forgive you this once. Come on, sweetheart, it’s alright.”

Heaving, you shook your head again, giving a little hiccuped cry. “I-I can’t.”

Sighing, Steve tore his hand from between your legs and whipped the wheel to the right. The car jumbled and jostled over the shoulder of the road where the asphalt fell to grass. He parked beneath a lonesome tree standing tall in the field of grass and wildflowers. Once the engine cut, you realized how hard it was still raining. Beating down furiously on the windshield and metal roof, smacking agains the windows that fogged with the damp heat of your overworking bodies.

“C’mere, honey," he huffed.

Steve spun you in your seat, widening your legs with one push. Another gasp flew from your mouth as coolness met your core. Steve’s face remained steadily sure as he pushed your panties aside once more and returned his fingers to your aching, weeping cunt. A dull pain gathered in the nape of your neck as your head tipped back against the window, but all you could focus on were the width of the pastor’s fingers between your thighs, delivering a delicious quake. His thumb rolled and rubbed against your pearl, unleashing a sound never heard from you.

“Ask the Lord for forgiveness, Delilah. Ask the Lord for forgiveness and let go.”

As your face pinched with a wailing cry, Steve settled his eyes upon your sweat-slick body, writhing just for him. Planting one hand on the window above your head, the pastor fixed himself to hover above you, body heat ghosting your clammy skin like a breezy sheet. His breathing shallowed to mimic yours, overtaken by the rise and fall of your breasts, shuddering with frayed waves of pleasure still sparking inside you. The gold cross around your neck glimmered in the dim, grey light of the storm.

You gushed over his fingers, glossing his palm as he continued his gentle, massaging ministrations. Your cries fizzled to whimpers, deliriously searching for something to hold to find balance. When you lifted a shaky hand to his chest, Steve found pity on you and removed his hand. It swept over your thigh, down toward your knee, dragging strokes of sticky spend in its wake; until finally, it slid behind your knee to cup the pudgy flesh of your thigh.

Using his grip on you and the steady surface of the window, Steve dipped down until his mouth brushed your cheek. The skin there was hot, and soft like sheep skin, and he just couldn't contain the urge to encompass it with his mouth. A firm kiss, lips parted just enough to gather your taste on his tongue. It was the frenzy the stiff heat and sweet stench of your body delivered that had him baring his teeth and scraping them over your flesh.

You hissed, hands coming to feel the fabric of Steve's crisp button down soaked through with sweat. The cotton clung to your hands where you balled it into fists, squeezing in time with the dull, pin-pricking ache in your cheek from the pastor's incisors.

The moments of shuffling and readjusting came hazily, now flashes of colors and shapes in your memory when you thought back. Pulling your underwear back into place, cool where slickness gathered and soaked through. Smoothing your hair down, rubbing your fingers over the faint, sore scrapes on your cheek. Watching Pastor Steve put the car into drive, feeling it teeter back onto the road. Rain splashing with the force of the windshield wipers. The milk jug between your legs leaking condensation onto the floor.

Pastor Steve pulled into the end of your drive, where he parked in the soiled dirt and brought his hand to the back of your seat. You gathered the groceries back into your lap and gazed over at the pastor.

He smiled, flashing those sharp white teeth. "Say hi to your Mama for me, hmm?"

The walk up the rest of the drive was goopy and slick, and your shoes were caked in soupy mud by the time you reached the steps, hair dripping and dress soaked through. On the porch swing, lit cigarette resting in the hand on her knee, Mama watched the pastor's license plate zoom down the road. You stopped at the top step, petrified like stone. The sudden silence brought the rain back in a melodious spat.

"Y' get the eggs?" Her tone held the robotic grumble of Southern dissatisfaction.

Impassive, but frosted with shame.

"Y-yes, Mama."

Your mother raised the cigarette to her mouth, holding it at bay.

"Well alright now."

♰ ♰

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astrallofivibes · 1 year

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PLEASE DO LIKE SHARE AND SUBSCRIBE, WITH LOVE FROM RELAXED RAINING NOISE.

#rain sounds for sleeping #rain sounds for sleeping and thunder #rain sounds for sleeping no thunder #rain sounds for sleep and relaxation #rain sounds for study #rain sounds for sleeping black screen #rain sounds for sleeping 24 hours #rain sounds for sleep and concentration #heavy rain and thunder sounds for sleep #rain sounds for sleep on metal roof #rain sounds for sleep on tin roof

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joshlmbrt · 2 months

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˚ ✦.·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚ ALL I NEED | e. munson x reader

w; this is part of my ‘truck driver!dad!eddie’ au (can be found here) - but can be read as a just a regular one-shot, before chance was even thought about, abandonment issues, one usage of babycakes - but it’s a inside joke between them.

an; this was from a request that i could not stop thinking about - so anon, if you see this, thank you so so so much for requesting this (🦋) i hope you enjoy this and that i did your request justice! ᡣ𐭩

It’s late and you should be getting some rest before tomorrow.

It’s late and you shouldn’t be thinking about Eddie leaving you - about how all of this is too good to be true.

The sound of the rain hitting against the tin roof and window makes your bones and eyes heavy with sleep. You feel like you could melt into the mattress. But your eyes blink as they stare at Eddie with a somber expression.

He was asleep - long lashes pressed against the skin under his eye, a bit of drool slipping down the corner of his mouth. He always kept one ring on, the one with the black stone, and his arms stayed curled up towards his cheek, the stone leaving a mark on his flushed cheeks.

You smile to yourself, hand reaching out to brush a strand of curly hair from his cheek before crooking your finger and softly trailing your knuckle down the heated skin. Eddie was a human furnace - hence his long legs sprawled out, his right one pinning both of your legs down.

You don’t move though, afraid that this won’t last long and he’ll be gone too quickly if you do something wrong. Afraid he’ll leave if you do something simple.

His nose twitches and his head turns to the side, a yawn escaping his throat before a little hum. He then turns his head to look at you, brows pinching together slightly. “What are you doing awake?” His voice is gritty, low. And just as you had guessed - there’s an indent on his cheek in the shape of his black stone ring. “You have work tomorrow, sweetheart, you should be resting.”

He doesn’t move his legs when he turns to his side to face you better, you don’t tell him to move despite the fact that your legs are becoming tingly.

“Oh. I… couldn’t sleep.” He hums a bit, hand lifting and fingertips dragging across the side of your neck.

“Yeah, I can tell,” He says it without malice, a bit of a smile lifting at the corner of his lip. “You look like you’re about to pass out.” Your eyes close momentarily when his thumb traces under your eye.

“I was just lookin’ at you.” You whisper, turning your head and pressing your lips against his palm before opening your eyes again.

His lips pull into a sleepy grin. “Lil ole’ me?” His brows lift slightly, covered by the bangs.

You laugh softly, though it sounds breathy and stuck in your throat. You blink a couple of times, eyes darting down. You don’t know why you start tearing up and you try not to make a big deal about it - but Eddie is already making it a big deal.

“Hey…” He moves closer, his other hand lifting and wiping away the tears that roll down the curve of your jaw. “Hey… sweetheart, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

You shake your head, brows pinching together as your lip quivers and you try to pull your face from his hands but he doesn’t let you. He wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer. You duck your head under his chin, tears dropping onto the pale skin of his neck.

His hand rubs at your back and you can feel the vibration of his humming against your forehead - something he knows that will calm you down.

The crying subsides to sniffles and hiccups. His hand slides towards your scalp, some hair getting tangled between his fingers and he pulls you out of the comfort of his neck.

His thumb runs along the wet skin under your eye. “What’s wrong?” He whispers.

You shake your head. “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing is stupid if you’re this emotional over it. It’s okay to tell me what you were upset or thinking about.”

You lip wobbles, but you contain the tears that collect at your lower lash line slowly. “I’m scared you’re gonna leave me.” You whisper.

His eyes round, soft, pillowy lips parting as his shoulders slowly slump. “What?”

You sit up, tucking your hair behind your ear before wiping at your cheeks and nose with the back of your hand. “I’m… scared that you’re going to leave me, Eds. I’m scared that I’m going to do something wrong, say something wrong, and you decide you can’t take it anymore because if I do it once, I’ll do it again,” Your hand picks at the loose thread of the sheet, another tear dropping onto it and spreading slowly. “It’s happened before.”

You feel him shift and his shoulder brushes yours when he sits up. His chin rests against your shoulder when he turns slightly. His hand comes up and pushes your hair back when it slips over your shoulder. “You think I’m gonna leave you? What if you leave me?”

“That’ll never happen.” You say quickly - you love him too much to leave.

“And I’ll never do that to you,” He whispers softly. You turn your head to look at him. “When I first asked you out I was so nervous. Look at us now,” He smiles softly. “We have our own trailer, our own furniture, food in the fridge… And it’s everything that I have dreamed of - I’ll tell you if you say something that upsets me.”

You nod softly, wiping at your cheek again. “It was silly for me to even think that.”

“No. It wasn’t,” He reassures you. His hand slides to your back softly before gripping the back of your hunched neck. “You have every right to have your feelings - but next time, talk to me about them instead of just keeping it bottled up. Please? Because, like it or not,” He smirks a bit. “I’m in for the long haul, baby cakes.”

You scrunch your nose at the nickname, shaking your head as you laugh softly. “Eddie Munson, I am so in love with you.”

He grins, lifting his chin from your shoulder as the tip of his nose nudges yours softly, a palm coming up and cupping your jaw. “And I am so in love with you.” His lips finally graze yours, his thumb pulling at the side of your mouth before connecting your lips.

You smile against his lips when you feel the sides of his lips upturn a bit.

Eddie was here - and he wouldn’t leave. He wasn’t going to leave.

ᡣ𐭩 thanks for reading. reblogs, comments, likes, & feedback is encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated.

— @stveharringtn 2024

[ special tag; @corrodedcherry ]

#cherry writes ✿#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn x reader

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