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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 2 months

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My Heart's Always Yours

Josh X Danny X Y/N

WC: 4.6k+

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Adult Themes, Explicit Sex,m/f,m/m, Polyamorous Relationship,Lingerie, Body Insecurities, Relationship Insecurities

Your family fell into a routine, during the week Josh and Danny went to the studio early in the morning, getting done with enough time for them to come home and help you with dinner and take care of Hazel. Saturday came and Sam came over, tagging along with Danny and Hazel to go to the farmers market. More often than not Jake came by on Sundays to visit with his niece. It was all very domestic

By the time you woke up this Saturday, it was late enough in the day that Danny, Hazel, and Sam had already left for their adventure. Josh was laying in bed next to you, propped up against the headboard with a well worn paperback in his hands. He was up and awake to see them off, and he crawled back into bed with his book laying down next to you. You raised your head, voice laced with sleep,“Morning Joshy, you're reading that again?”

He closed his book, laying it flat on his stomach,” Of course I am baby, it's one of my favorites.”

You saw the clock on the nightstand next to him, you guessed they had been gone for at least an hour already. He placed his book back in the drawer of his nightstand and turned to face you,” Do you want to know something really sweet? Sam asked if he could wear the baby carrier today. He really loves being her uncle.”

“ Everyone loves her, it makes me so happy.” Your mind reeled, thinking about how in not that much time she'll look like Josh's mini me. She'll be undeniably Kiszka, with her father's copy and paste genetics.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course my love.”

“ I know she's our baby, all of our baby, but I want to know your thoughts and how you processed that she's yours. You haven't said anything about it.”

He brings his hand to rest on your stomach with his thumb rubbing your soft skin, while you internally cringe the skin there being flabby and stretch marked.

“Oh. Honestly? I feel really blessed, and I'm really happy. The second I saw the positive test I hoped that I was the one who helped create her, I loved her instantly. I would have loved her regardless, and I think you all know that.”

Relief floods your body, as you knew it would, but you can't help but feel insecure because of how Danny initially reacted.

You quiet your voice down to a whisper,” I know he loves her, but sometimes I can't help but think about how he reacted when we told him…. He didn't want her..”

“Baby- no… Yes Danny could have handled it better, but he loves Hazel with all of his heart, please don't discount that. He loves her so, so much,” Josh sighs,” That really weighs heavy on your mind, doesn't it.”

“It does, and I don't know if it will ever go away.”

Josh tightens his grip on your body and pulls you to him,” I'm so sorry he hurt you like that.”

“He hurt you too..”

Josh just nods his head, pulling you even closer to him. His warmth and the smell of his skin calms you back down. After a moment you turn to lay on your back again, and Josh's hand resumes its place on your stomach. You know it's all in your head but you can feel his touch burning into your skin, why would he want to touch you there. It's bigger than it was before you got pregnant, he couldn't possibly still find it pretty.

Your lip trembles as you rush out,” I don't feel good about my body right now, I don't feel pretty.”

You poke at the squish around his fingers, the skin looser than it once was.

Josh covers your hand with his,” Oh my love. I know it's hard, and I know you see these changes. I see them too, but I am in such awe of you. My beautiful wife grew and nourished my baby, kept her safe, how could I find that anything but beautiful? I love you so much.”

You blink the tears away,” I felt so pretty when I was pregnant and now everything hangs and sags, and there's so many stretch marks.I know I wasn't skinny before but…”

“And that's okay. I truly think you're breathtaking Y/N. Even if you don't see it, I do. Your tummy? It looks like this because it was our baby's home for so many months. You have more stretch marks because you did everything right for her, gave her all the nutrients she needed to grow. You did everything right, took your vitamins, drank so much water, ate healthy balanced meals even when you didn't want to, just so our baby would be healthy. Your breasts look different because they're changing to feed our daughter, that in itself is incredible. Your body is amazing and beautiful and is doing so much for the life we created, so please don't judge yourself by what society thinks you should look like, it changed for a purpose. It changed for Hazel.”

With a shaky inhale you say,” I know. And I know you're right, it's just my body has been in a constant battle with my brain my entire life. I still need some convincing sometimes, especially when I have two incredibly beautiful men who want me. Why would two men who look like that want me?”

Josh's big brown watery eyes look directly into your own,” Why wouldn't we? I think your beautiful brain is thinking too hard…. Can I show you how breathtaking I think you are?”

“Please turn my brain off.”

Josh dips his head down, placing hot open mouthed kisses to your skin. Pushing your oversized tee up above your breasts. He starts at your stomach making sure every inch of it is worshiped before dipping his tongue in your belly button. You giggle as he tickles the sensitive skin.

“Josh!”

“Every inch is beautiful baby”

He continues to kiss up your torso, his facial hair prickling your skin as he works his way to your breasts. He places gentle kisses there before teasing your nipples with a few licks of his tongue making you gasp. You could feel him hot and hard against your thigh. Your arousal coursing through your veins you whine,” Josh.. please.. I wanna be cock drunk, don't wanna think about anything but you.”

“I'm not done yet, love.”

He kisses up your neck, to your chin, placing a single kiss to your nose before slotting your lips together. You relish in how warm and plump his lips are.

“I love you Y/N.”

He quickly kisses back down your body, and you spread your legs for him, thinking he's about to go down on you. Instead he skips where you're throbbing for him, and he kisses down your thigh, nipping at the plush skin.

“Such strong beautiful legs, carried our baby…”

You look down at him, the most loving magical man between your legs.

You murmur feeling drunk on him already,” Baby.. I need to feel you.”

“Where my love?”

His hand that's resting on your thigh comes down to cup your cunt over your underwear, and you know he can feel how wet you are.

“Does my pretty girl need me right here? I can feel how soaked you are.”

Josh's fingers trace a line up and down your covered slit, making you even wetter for him. He pulls the cotton gusset to the side exposing your glistening folds. Josh leans in pressing a kiss to your slit. His tongue pokes out, licking up your arousal. He presses his tongue flat against your folds, using long broad strokes from your entrance to your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

“Fuck Josh, feels so good baby. You're such a good boy.”

You can feel him smile against your cunt, relishing in the praise. He continues loving on your clit, making you buck your hips, fucking his face chasing your high.

Gasping,”I- I…. Fuuuuck”

Moaning he laps up your release,” You taste so good baby, I love drinking you down.”

He rises from between your thighs, his lips and chin wet with your slick. Crawling up your body, he grinds his hips into yours.

“I want you in me, please I need it.”

He leans up on his knees, and you smirk as you spy the small patch of arousal that has leaked from his tip. Quickly he pushes his sweats down his hips, his length springing out, bobbing heavy between his legs.

“You're so pretty Josh.”

“No my love, you're so pretty. You're glowing, cheeks all red because you've already came, you're all relaxed. I love when you're like this, my most beautiful girl.”

He tilts his hips forward as he grasps his cock in his hand, swirling the tip in a circle around your entrance making you clench.

“Don't be a tease,” you say, scooting your hips closer to him.

Gently he presses into you, slowly at first as you flutter around the head of his cock, eager for the rest of his length to be buried inside.

He pushes in more, gritting his teeth,” Fuuuck you're… So. Tight. Just suffocating my cock.”

Finally he's fully sheathed inside of you, and you both exhale, his breath blowing across your face.

“Just relax for me love, let me make you feel better.”

Slowly he pushes his hips in and out once you relax around him, fully feeling each other. With your emotions heightened you swore you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock. It all feels so good.

You let Josh in to all of your senses. He is all you see, his face close to yours. He's all you feel, sliding in and out of you, running your hands down the broad expanse of his back. He is all you smell, his musk from sleep, and stale cologne from the previous day invading your nose as your face nuzzles into his neck.

Slowly you feel your second high creeping up on you, overwhelmed by Josh in the best ways.

“You gonna cum? I feel you squeezing me.”

You nod your head, squeezing his length as hard as you can before you topple over the edge. It doesn't take long for him to be diving off the cliff behind you,” Gonna fill you up baby, gonna fuck my load in you so deep.”

His hips stutter and you feel his warmth flood your insides, he groans as you milk him for all he has, “Yes, fuck, keep squeezing me, gonna give you all I've got.”

Finally he slows his hips to a stop, his cum oozing out from where you're connected. Josh peppers kisses against your face, thoroughly loving on you,”I'm gonna pull out now love.”

He pushes himself up into his forearms and you grip onto them,” No! Wait. Stay inside me for a little longer, I feel really good right now.”

He smiles, rolling you to your sides as he keeps you connected, his now spent soft length nestled inside you.

You close your eyes, dozing in the content feeling in your chest. Josh succeeded in making sure he was all you can think about. All of the heaviness that was swirling in your mind now replaced with him. His touch doesn't sear your body anymore, it feels comforting as it was always meant to be.

You were just about to fall asleep, so comfortable with his arms around your body and his cock inside you, when you heard Sam's unmistakable laugh through your closed bedroom door.

Josh's hand comes to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek,” It's time to get up lovie, they're back.”

You sigh and pull away from him, your bodies finally disconnecting. Josh makes his way to the ensuite bathroom while you grab some pajama shorts and one of Danny's sweatshirts. Josh comes back out, grabbing the pair of sweatpants he had on earlier and slipping them back on his body. Unabashedly you stare at the outline of his soft cock, you can't help it, you feel the need to be utterly consumed by him.

Josh smirks, catching your gaze as he throws one of his many white crew necks over his head,” Baby, aren't you going to go clean up?’

“Not yet, wanted to keep you there a little longer.”

You look at your husband and see his cheeks reddening and he exhales a long breath,” Damn…. That's hot sweetheart.”

You slid your feet into the slippers Josh and Danny got you, they were pink and adorned with embroidered strawberries. Josh opened your bedroom door, grabbing your hand leading you out to your family. You smiled wide when you found Sam on the couch holding your baby girl.

Sitting down next to him you asked,” Did you guys have fun today?”

You watched as Sam gingerly brushed the downy strands of hair back on her head.

“We had an amazing time! Saw lots of doggies, and cool crystals, and art! I, uh, I asked to wear the carrier today, so I could hold her….Hazel even reminded Danny to grab those peaches you love from the fruit stand.”

You chuckle, placing your hand on his shoulder, your thumb lightly rubbing back and forth,” Thanks for keeping my baby safe Sammy. You're a great uncle. I'm glad she has you and Jake.”

Danny comes in from the kitchen with a fresh bottle in his hands,”Alright, I know somebody's hungry.”

You see Sam's eyes light up,”Could I feed her?”

Josh and Danny wait for you to answer as you battle internally, on one hand he's so excited to feed his niece, on the other he's had your baby all morning and you're missing her dearly.

“Yes you can feed her, but as soon as you're done I'm snatching her up, I haven't even got to hold her yet today.”

You leaned into Josh as he lightly rubbed your back, slipping his hand under your sweatshirt to touch your skin. You both watched as Danny, the amazing father he is, coaches Sam on exactly what to do.

Josh leans forward so his lips are against your ear,”See how much he loves her? He's such a good Dad.”

Both of you observe as Danny lays a cloth against Sam's shoulder, teaching him how to burp her.

Hazel burps, making Sam exclaim,” Damn girlie, that was a big one!,” he continues to pat her back waiting for her to do it again,” Alright Hazelnut, Momma and I had a deal. I've gotta give ya back to her, I love you.”

He hands you your tiny baby, and warmth settles in your chest. You are beginning to recognize this as love. You cradle her little body against your chest, leaning your weight back onto Josh.

He looks at Danny and Sam,” We missed her this morning.”

Danny stands from his place on the couch and comes to stand in front of you, leaning down he gives Josh a kiss and then you a kiss,” Hazelnut and I missed you too.”

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

It was a few days later, thanks to prime shipping, that the package that Josh ordered showed up. He had grabbed his phone after seeing you criticize yourself in the mirror once again,and started searching for a pretty piece of lingerie for you, something that would cover your stomach but still make you feel beautiful. Josh knew this wouldn't fix your insecurities, but he hoped you would still see how beautiful you are. He settled on a baby blue set, a pretty sheer thong, and a babydoll top with flowy sheer fabric covering your tummy. As he clicked add to cart an idea sprung in his head. He searched again this time inputting baby blue thong into the search bar. Finally finding something that would match what he had picked for you, he added two into his cart. One for himself and one for Danny.

Josh opened the packages, placing yours and Danny's nicely on the bed. Intrigued, he undresses to try his on. He had worn briefs and such before, but never something as small as a thong. Sliding the fabric up his thighs, he adjusts his cock the material barely holding him in. He walks up to the floor length mirror in the bedroom, and surprisingly he likes what he sees. He feels quite confident in the lingerie, and he's positive his partners were going to love it too. He twists around in the mirror, getting a peek at his ass, and he giggles knowing that Y/N and Danny are going to love that view. Josh grabbed his phone, opening up the camera app. He flicks it over to video and presses record. His eyes are piercing as they stare down the mirror, and his free hand comes up to palm himself over the barely there material.

It's a short clip, maybe 6 seconds, but he sends it to the group chat he has with his loves. He knows it'll drive them wild.

He takes the underwear off placing it on the bed next to the others and puts his regular clothes back on, it only takes moments for his phone to start buzzing.

Y/N💕: What the fuck Joshua, you look incredible!

Danny💕: We're in the checkout line at the grocery store, we'll be home in 15.

Josh smiles at his phone before gathering candles and placing and lighting them about the bedroom, attempting to make it a special evening.

Josh sits down on the living room couch playing on his phone until he hears the front door unlock. Danny comes in with only two grocery bags and Josh cocks his eyebrow,” The rest of the bags are in the car still, fuck it I'm just putting the frozen shit away.”

Y/N makes her way inside, Hazelnut in her arms, and she beelines it to the baby swing. Quickly buckling her in and pressing the on button.

Josh smirks,”You two seem to be in a rush, everything okay?”

Danny joins you two in the living room,” I don't know Josh, that little video of yours gave me a fuckin boner in the middle of the grocery store, so I think you have to make up for that stunt you pulled.”

Josh stands, clasping his hands together,” Well my loves, I do have a little surprise for you. If you would follow me to the bedroom.”

Josh grasps both of your hands, leading you and Danny to your bedroom. He opens the door with his foot, revealing the candles and your outfits for the evening.

“I got each of us a little something.”

Danny picks up the small scrap of fabric, cocking his eyebrow,” They match?”

Josh's fingers grip onto the hem of your shirt,” Can I?”

You nod and he lifts the shirt over your head, before reaching his hand around your back, unclasping your bra.

You shimmy the rest of your clothes off, grabbing the lingerie. Once everything is in place Josh leads you to the mirror, and your lip trembles lightly.

“Does my wife feel pretty? I think you look stunning.”

He remembers your conversation, of course he does. Josh is so special.

Quietly you answer,” I do. I feel really pretty, thank you.”

You turn towards your loves,”Alright, alright. It's your turn, let me see how hot you both look.”

You watch as they both steal glances at each other as they undress and slide on their lingerie.

You make yourself comfy on the bed, your eyes first raking over Josh's form, his toned body looking ethereal in the candlelight. You take in his chest, down his stomach, down his V line, to gaze at your prize. Your lip curls when you see he's already starting to strain against the skimpy fabric.

You gaze at Danny, his Greek God physique on display. Your eyes travel down his body, the patch of hair that starts at his belly button looking extra yummy as your eyes follow it downward to his heavy cock straining against the fabric of his thong.

You're not sure if you've ever been so turned on by their outfits before, your breath hitches in your throat,” Oh, fuck me.”

Danny stalks closer to the bed, palming his growing erection,” Oh. We plan on it sweetheart.”

Danny crawls onto the bed, crashing his lips into yours as he gently guides you back against the mattress. His rough kisses get softer and softer until he pulls away, still inches away from your face. His curls cascade down shielding you from looking anywhere but at him. He whispers asking you a question,”You haven't been feeling good about your body?”

You blink back the tears that threaten to fall,”No. No I haven't.”

“Why didn't you tell me love?”

Your hands trace up his chest settling in the hair at the nape of his neck,” I didn't want to be a burden. It's silly I know.”

His bottom lip juts out a bit, unhappy with your answer,”You are stunning Y/N. Always. I need you to remember that, we love you so much. Please let us show you how much.”

You tilt your head up, capturing his lips with yours,”Show me Danny.”

“You are so, so beautiful. Not just in the way you look, because you are stunning, but your heart and your mind are beautiful too. I couldn't ask for a better woman to be Hazel's mom.”

He kisses down your neck, making a whimper escape your lips.

“I think we should keep your pretty little top on huh? Makes you look like a goddess, Josh picked very well.”

Feeling the bed dip, Josh joins, pressing himself against your side, subtly grinding himself against your thigh.

Danny rises to all fours, sliding back down the bed, he picks at the waistband of your panties asking if he can take them off. You nod, lifting your hips so he can slide them down your legs. Danny stands, pulling them off you body, his eyes gaze down at Josh,” Fuck baby, your ass looks insane. Please tell me you're going to keep wearing these.”

Danny leans down, playfully smacking Josh's asscheek. He ducks his head down, kissing up your legs before diving into your cunt. Danny's strong nose nudging your swollen bud as he fucks his tongue in as far as it will go.

You thread your hands into his curls,”Fuck Danny! Feels so good!”

His lips and tongue baby your throbbing clit a little longer before the need to feel them overwhelms you.

“Both of you… on your knees.”

Quickly they disconnect from your body, “ Are you okay sweetheart?”

You bring your palms to their aching lengths, you can feel them twitching against the heat of your hand.

“You both look so sexy. So hard…”

Josh looks from your hand to your face,”Lovie… can you take them off? I've been hard for so long, it's getting uncomfortable.”

You take your fingers and trace the length of his covered cock, teasing the head of Josh's penis. He huffs out a breath, waiting for you to continue.

Your fingers dip into the waistband of Josh's panties, pulling them slightly to tease him with friction.

“Fuck, baby please. Take me out.”

Finally you take mercy on your whiny boy, pulling the panties down his thighs before grabbing his cock and sinking your mouth down on him.

You can hear Danny's voice, with him looking above you,” I bet it feels so good. His eyes are rolling back baby, I can't wait to feel your mouth on me.”

You bob your head down his length, working your tongue over him.

Josh whines out a long, fuuuuck.

And you notice Danny has positioned himself behind Josh, lapping at his entrance. The sucking noises coming from the both of your mouths are obscene as Josh's hips erratically move back and forth chasing the pleasure.

His high slams into him, quicker than he thought,”Fuck- I'm gonna cum. I-”

Danny's hand comes up to squeeze his balls, encouraging Josh to meet his end. You pull off of him just far enough to stick your tongue out as your hand jerks him off, moaning as white hot ropes of his cum land on your tongue.

Josh pants, catching his breath and sitting down on the bed as his entire body goes soft blissed out. Danny crawls over to you growling,” Let me taste him.”

Your tongues tangle and he moans at the taste of release on your tongue. Josh grasps your chin, tilting your head away from Daniel momentarily.

“I think you should enjoy Danny now love.”

You look into Danny's sparkling brown eyes,”Are you ready for me baby?”

You nod your head and he guides you back against the mattress, cradling your head in his hand.

“Wanna watch me take these panties off?”

Danny flashes you a toothy smile before leaning up, running his hands down his torso, hooking his thumbs in the barely there fabric. He pulls them off his hips, his hard leaking cock bobbing free resting heavy between his legs. You feel yourself clench around nothing gazing at your lovers impressive body. He grasps his thick length in his hand, running it through your wetness. You gasp when he nudges against your clit, feeling close to the edge already.

Danny taps his cock, the weight of his slapping down on your clit,” Do you think you could cum like this?”

Squirming underneath him you gasp,” Yeah keep going! Little more!”

Danny continues to glide his leaking tip over your swollen bud until you're cumming underneath him. He traces your slit again, gathering your release that's dripping from your entrance. Gently he nudges himself inside and you relish in the stretch. Once he's fully sheathed inside of you Danny gazes down at you, his eyes full of love and adoration,”Hi baby. Feels so good. So tight wrapped around me.”

You feel yourself melt into the mattress as his hips find a rhythm.

“I need more Danny.”

He leans up onto his knees, pulling your hips into his lap, thrusting in harder than before. He throws his head back, raven curls descending down his back. He sticks out his tongue, unable to control his mouth as you clench around him hurtling him closer to his release.

Looking to your left, you find Josh languidly stroking himself, thoroughly enjoying the show. Danny grips your jaw, turning your head to look into the mirror,” Watch us Y/N. See how pretty we look. Want you to watch me wreck your cunt before I cum in it.”

His hips find a punishing pace and the coil in your stomachs snap as you cum together, spraying his abdomen with your release as he pumps his own inside you.

Josh leans over, his lips capturing your own,” You look incredible baby, so fucked out and beautiful.”

Keeping himself inside for a few moments longer, Danny leans down to join Josh, locking your lips together and slipping his tongue inside of your mouth,” You're so beautiful baby, I love you so much, wanna knock you up with my baby next.”

You blush, and Danny realizes what he just said,” Well- not anytime soon at least. Maybe once Hazel's out of diapers.”

Your mind reeled, Danny loved you and you loved him, he maybe even wanted to have a baby with you. You were honestly feeling better than you had in days, a bit of weight had lifted from your shoulders.

Josh came back in the room, clad in a matching sweatsuit, holding his little baby. You smiled as he rocked her in his arms going on and on about being such a good girl, being so patient waiting for Mommy and Daddies.

Fin.

Always thanking @lipstickitty for helping me with ideas, love youuuu ❤️

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 2 months

Text

Excited for this series! Part 1- Great!

Bad Reputation

s.f.k. x reader

chapter one

Series Summary: As a local jazz pianist in Nashville, you never fear being in the spotlight. Living in the same city, you’ve become very familiar with Sam Kiszka, a young musician who’s managed to gain a bad reputation in the city and throughout the country within his band’s fanbase. You’ve always just ignored Sam’s promiscuous and impulsive ways, but when you’re approached by the band to help repair his image, you’re given an offer you can’t refuse.

Word Count: 6k

Chapter Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of sex, mentions of smoking (tobacco & marijuana), flirting, arguing, sexual tension… you get it ;) (no smut… yet)

A/N: Hi guys! I’m so excited to share this series with you all. The idea came to me and I think it really ended up so good, I can’t wait for you to read it. Let me know in the comments or in my messages if you want to be added to the taglist for this series! See you soon :)

Listen to the playlist here :)

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

The club was dark and crowded as you entered through the front door and made your way backstage to begin setting up. Your shoulders brushed past other people in the crowd, making it difficult for you to get to the back. On your way there, you paused for a moment, deciding to stop at the bar first for a much-needed drink.

“Hey, Sebastian!” you said, leaning over the bar as you greeted the bartender. You’ve been playing here for so many years, these guys were some of the closest friends you’ll ever have.

“Y/N, hey! Need a pick-me-up?” he said, turning his attention to you fully for a moment as the bar was bustling with other customers. Better make this quick.

“Can I just get a double rum and coke? Only a little bit of ice in it,” you asked, smiling politely as he nodded and began making your drink.

You take a second to look around the club as you wait, feeling a bit nervous as you take in how many people are actually there. You’ve played big crowds before, sure, but tonight felt extra intimidating for some reason.

You had sensed for a few months now that your big break might be coming soon, at least that’s what you’d hoped. You’ve grown to be quite popular in the greater Nashville area, but your reach hasn’t gone much further than that. You hope to branch off and move to New York one day, to play there professionally full-time.

For now, though, you make your living by playing gigs weekly, posting your music online, and taking a few brand deals here and there. It’s working well, and you make enough money to get by, but you’re not entirely fulfilled.

“Double rum and coke for the lovely lady,” Sebastian said, sliding your drink across the bar toward you with a smile. You return his smile and take it in your hand, tipping it toward him as a thank you.

“Thanks, Seb. I’ll be back later, you know I’m gonna need it,” you muttered, taking a long swig of your drink before squeezing your way through the rest of the crowd and finally making it to the backstage door.

Pushing the door open, you turned the corner toward your usual dressing room and started to set yourself up. You take your coat off, place it on the small couch with your tote bag, and then turn to the mirror to touch up your makeup before you take the stage in 15 minutes. You hear the door crack open, so you turn your head to look and see who it is.

“There you are, Lucy!” you exclaimed, moving to the door to greet her with a hug. “Where the hell have you been? I didn’t see you at the bar before.”

“Sorry, babe, Seb had me refilling the kegs downstairs for him… lazy bastard,” she scoffed, moving past you to plop down on the couch. “That’s a man’s job! That shit is so heavy!” You chuckle at her, finishing off your drink and then turning back to the mirror to finish applying your lipstick.

“He’s building up your strength, Luce! What happened to equal rights?” you laughed, making eye contact with her in the mirror as she rolled her eyes at you.

“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t see you lifting any heavy things,” she mutters, crossing her arms and throwing her head back.

Lucy was probably your best friend in the whole city. You met her in high school, being in the same jazz band class together, and immediately clicked. She works at Seb’s jazz club part-time as a bartender and server, which is how you started playing there. You play plenty of gigs at other places too, but this place became your regular haunt, thanks to Lucy’s help. She asked Sebastian to give you a chance to audition 4 years ago, and you’ve been playing there ever since.

The two of you live together in a little apartment in Midtown, only a couple blocks away from the club. After graduating high school, Lucy decided to go to Belmont for journalism while you ended up just starting to work on your music full-time. You made ends meet and helped pay rent while Lucy went to school, and she’s worked to make it up to you ever since.

She’s in her last semester of graduate school now at Vanderbilt, getting a business degree with hopes of founding a newspaper of her own one day. At 24, she seems like she’s finally getting her life together, but for you, it feels like you’re only just getting started. You try not to compare yourself to her or anyone else, which was something your mother always nagged you about. You knew she was right, but you can’t help it.

Despite all of that, you’re sure that you’ll break into the industry soon. Seb had planned to hook you up with his buddy who works in one of the recording studios downtown to get you in and record your own stuff. He’s just waiting on your word to tell him that the album is ready, but you haven’t been able to finish it for the life of you. You’re not sure if it’s fear or perfectionism, but it just doesn’t feel finished to you yet. For now, you’re filling your time with gig after gig, hoping to find inspiration.

“Stop sulking in here and get back to work, I have to be out there in 5,” you say, turning around to give her a stern look. She scoffs at you and then stands up, walking out the door.

“Break a leg!” she shouts as she rounds the corner, leaving you alone once more.

You have to admit that you’re feeling nervous. You compiled a few originals to test out tonight with the crowd, hoping to get some excited reactions to some stuff that you planned to include in your record. You had a few classics in the setlist too, including your favorite arrangements of Misty and Lullaby of Birdland, to make sure that the crowd doesn’t get too lost. But you hope that you’re new stuff will keep them captivated.

You take a deep breath, brushing your hands down your dress a few times to straighten it out and taking one last look in the mirror before exiting the dressing room and heading toward the stage. You hear Seb announce your name as you turn the corner and stride onto the stage, flashing a quick smile at the crowd before sitting down at the piano.

The crowd hushed as your fingers plinked out the first few notes, and then you started your first piece. Your hands glided across the keys with ease as you closed your eyes, getting lost in the music. Your first original piece went off without a hitch, the crowd cheering loudly at your extensive solo. They were enraptured by the covers you chose and your confidence was truly shining brightly off of you.

The set ended as quickly as it began and the club erupts in applause as you played the last note and stood up to take a bow. You look out into the crowd and see your friends back at the bar, flashing them a wide smile. Your eyes pan across the rest of the room, seeing all of the people cheering for you. This was what you were made for, you were sure of it. This is what you’re meant to do.

As your eyes stop at the back corner of the room, your expression quickly drops when you see the group at the large booth. It was a group of men from a band that you were very familiar with, bumping elbows at all the music venues in Nashville. It wasn’t the band specifically that you had a problem with, but just one specific man who always gave you trouble. Sam Kiszka.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, flashing one more smile at the crowd before rushing backstage to your dressing room. You were so not in the mood for his antics tonight, not after putting on such a good show. The rest of his brothers, you could deal with, but not him. You refuse to let him tear down the confidence in yourself that you only just built up.

You grabbed your things in your dressing room and then hurried back out to the bar, needing to get a refill on your drink before even attempting to socialize with anybody.

“Seb– another, please. Pour it heavy,” you lament, resting your elbows on the bar and putting your head in your hands. You hear him chuckle as he starts your drink and you let out a low groan.

“I take it you saw them, then?” Lucy said, leaning against the bar next to you. You nodded as your head still sat in your hands, not bothering to look up at her. “Y/N, they’re really not that bad, I don’t understand what your problem is.” Your head shot up and you glared at her frustratedly.

“Not that bad? Sam takes every opportunity he can to belittle my music and talent every time I see him,” you scoffed, taking your drink from Seb and taking a long sip. “And when he’s not berating me, he’s trying to get in my pants.” Lucy rolls her eyes, stepping behind the bar to grab some drinks and put them on her tray.

“As if I’d ever stoop that low. That man’s been in bed with every single woman in Nashville. Probably even taken women, too!” you ranted, crossing your arms and taking another sip.

“Just ignore him, babe. I know the rest of them would like to see you,” Lucy said, lifting the tray to rest on her shoulder. “These are their drinks. Just come with me.”

She walks away with the tray toward the other side of the club to find their table. You linger for a moment and then let out an annoyed groan, throwing back another sip before reluctantly following behind her.

You followed Lucy with your head down, trying not to look too eager or willing to go with her. As you approached the table, Josh was the first one to catch a glimpse of you, a toothy smile growing across his face.

“There she is, the woman of the hour,” Josh remarks, opening his arms wide to pull you in for a hug. You accept, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. You smiled shyly as the others greeted you as well, except Sam, of course. He was distracted, seemingly complimenting the top Lucy had on. Barf.

She’d already been there, done that, which isn’t exactly surprising. Your best friend always had an affinity for one-night stands, never really wanting to settle down or get too serious. You never cared at all, until she told you one morning that she went home with Sam after a show one night. She promised that she didn’t plan to do it again, claiming she used him just as much as he used her, and you left it at that.

She kept her word, never going home with him again, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her every time he came in here. You rolled your eyes as you watched him glance down at her cleavage subtly, but not subtle enough for you not to notice. He finally notices you standing there, turning toward you with a smirk. Here we go.

“Y/N… that was quite the set,” Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall next to their booth. Josh and Jake excuse themselves to go outside for a smoke, and Danny takes a seat back in the booth, scrolling on his phone. Alone, great.

“Thanks, I think,” you say sarcastically, taking a sip of your drink as you look up at him suspiciously. You didn’t trust that look on his face one bit, and you were determined to find out what he was up to.

“Oh, that wasn’t a compliment,” he said smugly. “If you’re gonna arrange music, at least write a song where the chord progressions actually make sense together.” He raises his beer bottle to his lips and tips his head back to take a sip. You scoff at him, trying to take a deep breath before you blow this entire thing out of proportion.

“Samuel, you wouldn’t know a good arrangement even if it hit you in your smug face,” you bit out, still doing your best to hold yourself back. You swing back the rest of your drink, letting the cold ice hit your lips before slamming it down on the table next to you. “It was a B flat and E flat blues. Who crowned you the king of jazz composition?”

His smirk grew wider across his face as his back left the wall and he began to tower over you. You sucked in a deep breath, wondering if you should've just kept your mouth shut, but frankly you didn’t care. His long hair frames his face as he looks down on you, his eyes dark and cold.

“I did,” he answered, his face growing uncomfortably close to yours. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.” His tongue skims his bottom lip as his eyes bore into yours. No. No. He is not gonna win this round.

“Is that why you enjoy bothering me so much?” you asked, keeping your eyes locked on his, insistent on not backing down. His lips turn upward into a smug smile as he leans back away from you, placing his back on the wall once more.

“Maybe. Or maybe I just think it’s fun,” he answers, smirking down at you.

“You’re such a fucking freak,” you scoff, crossing your arms. You notice a change in his eyes at your words, and you start to wonder if you took it too far.

“You’ve got no idea, sweetheart,” Sam says, stepping forward again to stand over you.

“Gross,” you mutter under your breath, looking up at him, trying to keep a straight face.

“Now, I don’t think you mean that,” Sam whispered, leaning down further to speak into your ear. “I think you like it, actually.”

“You wish,” you state, still maintaining eye contact. His mouth twitches and turns up into a smirk as one of his arms snakes around your waist.

“All that blushing you’re doing says otherwise, doll. Even in this dark club, you can’t hide it,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. Fuck.

“That’s what I thought,” he smirked. You watch silently as Sam puts his beer bottle down on the table and then reaches into the front pocket of his shirt, pulling out a lighter and a blunt. “C’mon Daniel, let’s go outside.”

Sam shoots you a wink before nodding his head in Danny’s direction and the two of them walk toward the front entrance. They pass the twins on their way out, who both turn to look at you with puzzled expressions as they sit down at the booth. You sit down next to Josh as you try to adjust the annoyed look that is so clearly plastered across your face.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrow at you and taking a sip from his glass of whiskey sitting on the table. You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes, not even having an answer to give.

“The usual, of course. Can’t seem to leave me alone,” you muttered. The two of them let out a breathy laugh as Josh reaches over to put his arm around you.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about him, darling,” he offers, smoothing his fingers along your shoulder. “It’s all just show.”

“For it just being show, it sure does feel pretty insulting,” you say, fiddling with your fingers atop the table.

“You’ll adjust eventually,” Jake says. “We like havin’ you around, so don’t run off just yet.” A smile grows across your face at Jake’s subtle attempt at an olive branch.

“I’ll tough it out, I promise,” you answer. You suppose you can adjust to Sam’s antics to spend time with them. You could use all the friends in the industry as you could get.

“How long have you been playing piano?” Josh asks, taking a sip of his tequila soda.

“Oh, I started lessons when I was 6,” you answered with a smile.

“That’s sick, I started pretty young too,” Jake replies, resting his arms on the table. Bonding with successful musicians has been your dream and the fact that you’re getting along so well made you really happy.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard! Believe it or not, I am actually a bit of a fan of your band. Casually, of course,” you smile, trying to be chill about it. It wasn’t entirely a lie, you are just a casual fan, but you’ve definitely watched an interview or two as well, leading to you knowing more about them than you intended to.

“Oh, yeah? Which one of us is your favorite, huh?” Josh asks smugly, raising an eyebrow at you hopefully. God, the amount of testosterone in this room could be cut with a knife.

“Hmmm… Danny,” you jest, elbowing Josh softly. The three of you break out into laughter before you check your phone to see the time. 12:32 am. Yikes, it’s late.

“Well, I gotta head out, unfortunately,” you say, standing up from the booth. Before you had the chance to walk off, Josh stopped you.

“Hey, uh, we’re gonna be in the studio on Monday for a few hours to work on some new music… would you wanna stop by?” Josh asked, looking up at you hopefully. “It could be a cool way for you to get exposed to how the recording process works.”

“Oh, wow, that would be incredible!” you smiled. “That’s such a kind offer, thank you so much! I’ll definitely be there.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the details,” he says with a smile, and you wave goodbye to them both and walk over to the bar to find Lucy.

“Ready to head out?” you ask, leaning over the bar toward her.

“Sure, let’s go!” she answers, turning around to grab her jacket and bag.

“God, I have so much to fill you in on…” you say as you walk out the door toward your apartment. You told her all about your brief run-in with Sam, and then Josh’s invitation to the studio as you walk down the street. She quite literally squeals when she hears the news.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N this could be it! This could be your big break!” she exclaimed as you turned the corner to the path to your building. “If you get in with their producers, this could really get you started! You have to make a good impression.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m freaking out! I really can’t screw this up,” you said as you turn the key in the door.

“You could never screw it up, babe. They’re gonna love you, I promise,” Lucy reassured you, hugging you tightly before branching off to her own bedroom.

All you had to do was get through the weekend, and then the day of your dreams will be all yours. Fuck, you don’t have anything prepared! As you shut the door to your bedroom, you rushed to sit down at your keyboard, turning it on. You pulled out your phone and opened the voice memos app, pressing start and then setting it down. You have to get a good demo down if you want to impress the producers at the studio and book a session there.

You spent all of Saturday and Sunday recording a few of your originals on your phone, taking dozens of takes to make sure each of them was perfect. This is it, it’s your moment.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your alarm goes off at 8 am, giving you two hours until you’re meant to meet Greta Van Fleet at the studio. Josh texted you yesterday with the time and address, emphasizing that you shouldn’t overthink it. He knew that you’d be freaking out, and he was right.

You’re hoping that a cool shower will wake you up and help you shake the nerves off. You get up out of bed, rub your eyes, and then grab your towel and walk out of your bedroom to the bathroom.

As the cold water hits your back, you start to think over the day that you have ahead of you. If everything goes the way you planned, then you might leave today with a record deal, or plans to meet up to make a deal. You appreciated Josh’s help so greatly, you really weren’t expecting it. He’s always been so kind to you, more so than the rest, but you figured that it was just the way he was. Now, it feels like he really has your back.

All you had to do was make it through today without any incidents with Sam. You hope that the other guys have already briefed him and told him to be on his best behavior, but you doubt that he’ll abide by that. You can hold your own, though, and you doubt that he’d pull something too obscene while working.

After drying off and getting ready to go, you find that you still have about 20 minutes until you need to leave. To pass the time, you sat down in your bed and opened up Instagram to scroll mindlessly for a little while until you had to drive downtown.

As you scroll down, your eye is caught by a post by The Nashville Fiddle, which is a local magazine. The Fiddle posts mostly about drama and celebrities, and you usually ignore everything they post, since you try not to give gossip the time of day. But this time, your eyes were stuck on their post, with a video of Sam Kiszka, belligerent and wasted outside of a club downtown Saturday night.

In the video, you can see Sam flirting with a girl outside of the club when a big, burly man comes up to him angrily. Clearly, this girl was taken, and her boyfriend was not happy. You can see Sam hollering back at him, getting in his face as he slurs his words before the man takes a large swing at him. Then, you see Danny show up behind him and pull him back, dragging him down the street, far away from the scene.

How could he be so stupid? Flirting with girls with boyfriends is bad enough, but it’s even worse to get into an argument and get caught on camera. He should know that he’s a public figure and that people can spread this kind of stuff around. What was he thinking?

You check the time and see that it’s about time to go, so you grab your tote, pick up your keys, and then head out the door. As you drive downtown, you take a few deep breaths. It’s not a big deal, you tell yourself. Everything will be fine.

Soon enough, you pull into a parking spot in front of the studio and put your car in park. 9:59 am. Just on time. You get out of the car, throw your keys into your bag, and then head toward the front door. After opening the door, you walked in and told the person at the front desk that you were meeting the band, and they directed you to the right studio.

As you enter the studio, you walk in to only find Danny sitting there. He looks up from his drum set and waves, standing up to greet you.

“Hey, Danny… where are the others?” you asked, hugging him and then taking a seat on a chair nearby. Danny lets out a long laugh, trying to compose himself before answering.

“Oh, they are never here on time. This is considered early,” he answers, smiling widely as he goes to sit back down at his set. “I wouldn’t expect any of them for at least another thirty minutes, if not longer.” You laugh along with him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Ah, Josh should have told me! Now I feel embarrassed for being so early,” you say, looking down at your phone for the time. 10:11 am.

“Nah, he just can’t admit that he’s always chronically late. He’s in denial,” Danny jokes. “Do you want anything while we wait? There’s coffee and tea over there.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice actually,” you answered, standing up to walk over to the coffee cart. “I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a morning person.” Daniel laughs, standing up to walk over with you.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever met a jazz player that was,” he says with a smile. “I think it’s just part of your DNA.” You laugh, nodding your head in agreement.

“You might be right. It’s not our fault, we play at night!” you say, pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

“Sam’s the same way, y’know. Stays up ‘til ungodly hours of the night, and then doesn’t roll out of bed until after noon,” he notes, laughing to himself. You laugh awkwardly as you add cream to your cup, cringing at the possibility of having anything in common with Sam Kiszka.

Almost as if he read your mind, Sam walked through the door, sunglasses blocking the dark bags under his eyes. He’s clearly hungover, rubbing his temples as he waltzes over to the cart and grabs the pot of coffee, pouring it into his own cup.

“Rough weekend, Samuel?” you asked teasingly, having already read about his escapades from this weekend. You can see his eyes roll behind the tint of the sunglasses as he takes a sip of his black coffee.

“Don’t start with me today, sweetheart,” he mumbled, pouring more coffee into his cup to make up for what he already drank, and then walking over to the corner to sit down on the sofa. He puts his feet up on the cushions as he takes a sip and then lays his head back against the armrest.

“See what I mean?” Danny asks, laughing as he walks over to his set and starts playing on his own, seemingly practicing. The idea sends a shiver down your spine. Could you and Sam be more similar than you thought? No, no way, you thought to yourself.

Not long after, Josh and Jake walk through the door and things can finally start moving. Josh walks over to make a cup of tea and then takes a seat on a stool, taking a slow sip. You walk over to him, hoping that his usual cheery disposition would calm your nerves.

“Good morning, lovely,” Josh smiled, patting your shoulder softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” you answered nonchalantly with a shy smile.

“Good. We’re still waiting for our manager, Jodie, to arrive, so just hang tight,” he says, taking another sip of his tea.

“Hey, you know what? How about you play us something?” he asks excitedly, his eyes lighting up. “Could be a good way to wake us up, huh?”

Your eyes shoot open, looking around the room at the rest of the guys. Danny is nodding excitedly and Jake walks over to his guitar stand, picking up his Gibson SG and slinging it over his head. Sam isn’t paying attention, his sunglasses have come off and his eyes are shut as he reclines on the couch.

“Well, okay… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you answered, walking over to Sam’s keyboard next to the drumset. You turn it on and adjust the settings, giving it a funkier sound before taking a deep breath and starting to play.

You decide to play Higher Ground, by Stevie Wonder, falling into the groove of the intro of the song as your fingers move across the keys. Danny’s face lights up as he listens closely to what you’re playing, then starts playing along. Jake follows suit, adding his guitar into the mix, and playing along with you. Of course, everyone knows Stevie Wonder, but being able to play with a band was just so cool to you.

People keep on learnin’

Soldiers keep on warnin’

World keep on turnin’

‘Cause it won’t be too long

Josh sings along, his voice fitting perfectly in the range of the song. The four of you are really grooving now, and it is so fun for you. It’s been years since you’ve played with others, and you loved it.

You watch as Sam lifts his head from the couch, opening his tired eyes to look over at you all. For a moment there, you almost think that he might be smiling, but you shake it off. You’re surprised to see him rise from the couch and walk over, grabbing his Rickenbacker off the stand and putting the strap over his head. Oh, he’s gonna play along…

Sam starts plucking his bass, along with the rest of the song. You knew that they’d all played in jazz bands before, and this song was a staple, but it surprised you how easy it was to join together and play. It was almost like you belonged there.

As you start a short piano solo, their manager walks through the door and sits down on the couch. She seems to nod at you to keep going, so you finish your solo and then end the song. You’re suddenly caught by surprise as Josh starts applauding, smiling widely as he walks over to you. He stands behind you, putting his hands firmly on your shoulders, squeezing them.

“You’re an incredible talent, Y/N, truly,” Josh remarked, smiling from ear to ear as he left your side and went to sit back down. You smile shyly and get up from the bench behind the piano to go sit down on the couch with Jodie. The rest of the guys start talking cacophonously as you start your conversation privately with her.

“It’s true, you’re really good,” she says honestly, reaching out to shake yours. “I’m Jodie, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh, you have? Thank you so much, it’s great to meet you. I assume it was Josh who told you about me, he’s the one who invited me today,” you answer, smiling shyly at the compliment.

“I first heard about you from Sam actually… he had a lot to say about your talent on the keys,” she says, catching you completely by surprise. Sam? Is she being serious right now?

“Did he now?... Interesting,” you replied, your tone feigning confidence. “Well, I’m honored to be here today. I’ve been meaning to finally get into a studio here in Nashville.”

“Yes, I heard from Josh that you plan on recording an album of original songs,” Jodie remarks. “I’m happy to have you here! Hopefully, we can get you to work a bit! Not to mention, it’s quite nice to have a bit more of a gender balance.” You laugh together for a moment before she gets up to greet the guys, going over the agenda for the session.

They go through a few new songs, trying to get it all down perfectly. You just sit and watch, absolutely mesmerized by watching the professionals work. You even escaped to the booth for a while to see the mechanics of the equipment, talking to some of the sound techs that work there. It was a really rewarding learning experience for you.

“Okay, that’s a wrap, guys! Good work today, we’ll be back here at the same time on Friday,” Jodie says. “Sam, can you hang back for a sec?” She walks back over to sit next to you on the couch, nodding her head to motion for Sam to join you. Once she’s certain that everyone else has left the studio, she starts talking.

“So, I’ve had an idea. Just hear me out,” she started, somewhat apprehensively. “Y/N, I was thinking about how highly the guys speak about you, and how much untapped talent you have.” Okay… this is getting weird.

“And Sam, I’ve been thinking about ways to improve your public image and get you out of your rut,” she finished, trailing off as she saw Sam’s annoyed expression.

“Okay, first of all, I am not in a rut,” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms as he leaned back on the couch.

“That’s not the point,” she snapped back. “My point is that I think I might have thought of a way to solve all of our problems.” You raise your eyebrow at her, still not really understanding what she’s getting at.

“What could possibly solve both of our problems?” you ask suspiciously.

“Like I said, just hear me out…” she says, but Sam interrupts her.

“Jodie, just spit it out already,” he groaned, growing frustrated.

“I think you guys should pretend to date!” she finally spat out, looking nervously at your reactions. Your jaw dropped as she finished her sentence, unsure that you even heard her right. Sam, however, already shot up out of his seat and stood angrily above you both.

“No, fuck no, absolutely not. This is ridiculous,” he starts ranting, but she cuts him off.

“Just listen to me, Sam. You’d improve your reputation by having a charismatic and talented girlfriend, the fans would love her! And Y/N, you’d gain followers and fans for your music career, and our label can get you started in our studio. Boom, both problems are fixed.”

“No! How could I even pretend to be interested in him? It’s impossible,” you complained.

“Woah, okay, try not to sound too disgusted,” Sam said, crossing his arms with a scoff.

“Don’t act like you didn’t react the exact same way, you asshole,” you scoff, staring daggers into him.

“Whatever, it’s not the same thing,” he spits back.

“Whatever, this isn’t productive,” you admit, crossing your arms in your seat.

“Exactly. It won’t even be that bad. Besides, you’re both benefiting here! It’s perfect,” Jodie says proudly.

“Well, I don’t know about perfect, but I guess it does kind of make sense…” you muttered, looking up at Sam nervously. He raised an eyebrow at you, walking toward you.

“You want to be my fake girlfriend, Y/N?” he teased. You roll your eyes and stand up to be more level with him, hating him towering over you.

“Shut up, Sam,” you replied, a hint of pink tinting your cheeks as your eyes locked on his.

“So? You guys are in?” Jodie asked hopefully. You and Sam exchange a look, then look back at her and nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re in,” Sam answered, looking over at you with a smirk before walking toward the door. “Now, are we done here? I’ve got places to be.” You roll your eyes and reach down to grab your bag.

“We’re done here, go,” you mutter, slinging your bag over your arm. Sam walks out the door as quickly as he had came in, and you follow soon after him.

As you drive back home from the studio, you think about all of the day’s events. You almost can’t even believe that you agreed to be Sam’s girlfriend, fake or not. But you have to admit that it’s going to be great for your career, this is exactly the big break you need. You feel confident that her choice to ask you was based on your talent, so the unconventional means of gaining popularity didn’t bother you.

It kind of excited you to be included with such a famous rock band like theirs– going on tour, going to the studio, seeing the magic happen. Having to spend time with Sam was just the price you had to pay to jumpstart your music career and get into the music industry. You’re not sure what type of a commitment this arrangement is going to entail for you, but you’re honestly kind of looking forward to it. You have to admit that “Rockstar’s Girlfriend” kind of has a ring to it.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈• Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment or send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, or if you want to be tagged in all of my stories! See you soon :)

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@highladyofasgard @gvfpal @childinthegardenn @myleftsock @peaceloveunitygvf @gretasfallingsky @gretavanfan

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 2 months

Text

Sizzling!

Birdie

Golfer!Danny x Reader 18+ (afab anatomy) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

gender neutral terms, vagina haver, multiple orgasms, soft dom danny, soft smut, very light daddy kink (it's mentioned once), praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it!), oral both receiving, p in v, aftercare - i think that's it, sorry if i missed anything!

Danny comes home to a homemade lunch after a morning on the course and shows you just how much he appreciates you.

A/n: gc asked for soft smut so here we go 🤭

you had just finished prepping lunch when you heard the door slam. "in here babe!" you called from the kitchen, wiping your hands on your shirt and moving from the counter to greet your boyfriend.

"hey my love," he said, smiling at you, leaning forwards to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, resting a hand on your waist. He peered over your shoulder to see the lunch spread you had put on the kitchen table. "babe, you made me lunch?" he asked sweetly, grip tightening around you. "i wanted to do something special! you've been working so hard and," he cut you off with a kiss. "you're just the sweetest. how did i get so lucky?" he cupped your jaw and pulled you in deeper, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for entrance. you pulled away, panting slightly, as he moved down your neck. "f-fuck danny, the lunch..." you gasped, reveling in the way his tongue worked at your skin.

"it'll still be there when we're done. besides there's something more delicious right in front of me." he whispered, returning to your lips as he slowly walked you backwards until your back hit the counter. his hands migrated towards your chest, toying with your shirt before slipping it off, exposing your skin. he placed soft kisses down your chest, teeth dragging ever so slightly. you moaned again, mouth dropping open, eyes slipping shut. "you gonna be good for me baby?" he asked, hands reaching down to unbutton his pants. you followed his lead and sank down to your knees, "you're always good for me huh? such a sweet baby," he trailed as you looked up at him through your eye lashes.

you placed your hands on his hips, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his hardening cock through his underwear, watching the precum leak through the fabric. "fuck, baby," he groaned, hand threading into your hair, keeping that nice firm grip that makes you go weak in the knees. you pressed more open mouth kisses, trailing down to his bare thighs, marking them along the way, before finally pulling his boxers down.

you giggled as his hard cock smacked against his stomach, letting his beautiful sounds wash over you. "so good for me baby," he whispered, taking in the view. ever so slowly, you placed a hand around him, lightly grazing the skin, before placing a kiss against the tip, slowly slipping it past your lips. as you sank further down, taking him into your throat, you let out a low hum, relaxing your throat as he thrusted gently into your warm mouth. you never knew giving someone else head could feel so good, but the way his hands felt in your hair went straight to your heat. "so beautiful," you heard him say from above you, as he rocked slowly into your mouth. you felt his hips stutter, a tell tale sign he was about to cum, so you tightened your grip on his hips, pulling him deeper to the hilt, until your nose was pressed against his pelvis, buried in the dark hair that surrounds him. "shit," he hissed as you hummed, hollowing your cheeks around him.

you swirled your tongue, curling it around what you could reach, peering up at him, watching the way his chest flexed, head tipped back. "so good baby," he grunted as you pulled off with a pop. you could tell he was seconds away as you kitten licked the tip. you watched the way his abs tightened, hand cradling his balls, before sinking back down, hollowing your cheeks, loving the feeling of him in your mouth before he's cumming down your throat. you take him to the hilt once more, swallowing around him as he cums. "fuck, fuck i love it when you do that," he chants, keeping you pressed against his skin as he rides out his high.

he sighs, releasing his grip, and you sit back on your heels, "was that okay?" you asked, voice hoarse from the abuse your throat just took. he scoffed at you, "more than okay," he assured, helping you off your knees. "now let's take care of you, darling," he said, pushing your sweat pants down so you could kick them off. "gorgeous," he murmured, taking in the view of your body, "fuck. i am lucky," he says, mainly to himself, before reaching out to touch you. you gasped at the feeling of his hands on you, something you may never get used to.

he patted the counter, signaling for you to hop up there, gripping your waist as you do so, helping you the rest of the way up, before laying you down, and spreading your legs. he leans forward, taking no time to get his mouth on you, sucking a hickey onto your thigh, moving to your hip, leaving light teeth marks as he nips at your skin in such as way that makes your heart stutter. "danny, please," you manage to whimper out, he looks up at you with dark eyes, "please what, darling? use your words, i know you can," he growled. you bit your lip to hold back a moan. "don't hold back love, i want to hear all your noises. so sweet, could make a playlist out of 'em," he teased, you could feel his breath puff against your skin. "need your mouth," you pleaded, eyes slipping shut. "good job, baby. i knew you could do it, so good for me always," he praised before finally tipping down and swiping a tongue across your clit. you couldn't help the surprised moan that escaped your lips. you keened high and airy as he moved lower, slipping his tongue into your hole, nose bumping lightly into your clit, giving you just enough sensation to make it a little unbearable. "fuck, fuck, fuck," you chanted, effectively egging him on.

he slipped a few fingers into you, curling up as he pressed them inside, tongue still sliding between your folds, swirling around your clit. "feel good, baby?" he asked, fingers still working inside you. "uh huh," you whimpered, clenching around him, trying to get that amazing friction. "please," you begged, hips wiggling, working towards your high. "please, what?" he asked, almost teasingly, you groaned, "fuck, please make me cum danny, i need it, fuck, fuck!" you grunted, feeling the way his tongue latched onto your clit, fingers thrusting roughly, other hand splayed across your stomach.

"danny, shit, i'm close," you warned, soft moans slipping out in rythym with his fingers thrusting inside of you. he replaced his fingers with his tongue once more, fingers circling around your clit, "cmon baby, cum for me," he whispered, at that was it. your orgasm hit you like a punch to the gut, you let out a loud moan as your orgasm tore through you. "fuck! daddy!" you cried as he kept his mouth on you as you rode out your high. he slowed his movements as you came down, both of your chests heaving from the effort.

you sat up a little to look at him, laughing a little breathlessly. you flicked your eyes over to the lunch that had been abandoned on the table, before he grabbed your chin, turning your head back to him. "ah ah, i'm not done with you yet," he said, pulling your hips closer to the edge of the counter. he shifted just a little before slipping his length into you. "fuck," you gasped out, not expecting it to be that quick. you sat up a little more, pressing yourself to his chest, legs hooking around his back, pulling him deeper.

you reveled in the way you stretched over his length, moans falling freely from your lips as his mouth returned to your neck.

"not gonna last long this time baby," he grunted out, whimpering each time he thrusted into you, "me either," you said, stomach already tightening once more as you came close to your second high. he hurried his thrusts, slamming into you roughly in just the right way. you tightened your legs around him as he quickened his rhythm, "shit baby, gonna cum," he whispered moving to pull out, but your legs kept him from moving "want it in me, please," you gasped, one of your hands moving to circle around your clit. "shit," he gasped out, thrusting sharply a few time before spilling into you. the feeling of his cum filling you up was the final thing you needed to reach your second orgasm of the night, crying out as you came on his length, legs finally dropping from around him, feeling the wetness from both of you dripping down your thighs.

you rested your head against his chest, listening to his heart beat as you both came down from your orgasms. you felt a little empty as he slipped out of you, laughing a little at the way his eyes widened at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. "shit, we gotta do that again," he said breathlessly, before breaking out into laughter. you couldn't help but join him, "i guess i should make you lunch more often," you giggled, leaning forward to press another kiss to his lips.

"that was fun," you sighed as you hopped down from your position on the counter, you looked around at the mess before you, both from cooking lunch, and the meal danny just had. "i've gotta clean this up now," you breathed, looking back towards danny, a gentle smile on your face.

he shook his head, "nah, baby. i'm gonna run you a bath, and while you're soaking and relaxing, i'm going to clean the kitchen. you work just as hard as me," he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "i'm so lucky," you sighed, repeating his words from earlier, giggling as he nodded in agreement. he pulled you towards the bathroom, pulling you in front of him so he could smack your bare ass once more. you shook your head at him, watching as he bounced around the bathroom, filling the bathtub for your soak.

as you stepped in to the warm water, he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, "when you're done we'll eat the beautiful lunch you made, okay? see you down stairs," he smiled warmly, before leaving you to your bath.

it couldn't get much better than this.

#danny wagner #danny wagner smut #greta van fleet #greta van fleet smut #danny gvf #daniel wagner #daniel wagner smut #gvf smut #gvf 18+#gvf

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

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18+ hoes

I just keep thinking about Eddie going through your nightstand and finding your collection of sex toys. The excitement on his face as he starts to pick up each one, examining them carefully. “This one has a tongue? Fuck… wait, what does this one do?” he grins as he presses a button, the vibrations of the toy loud enough to make you blush. “Oh shit..” Eddie mumbles, his hand reaching down to adjust himself in his dark jeans.

Your cheeks are burning as you him to stop being so damn nosy but he can help himself, his dick growing harder with every second as he imagines you pleasuring yourself with every one of them.

“Which one’s your favorite?” he rasps, walking closer with the vibrator still in his hand. It was one of your bigger toys. Your pussy throbbed just at the thought of Eddie using it on you.

“That one.” you whisper as he slowly makes his way onto the mattress.

“Yeah, baby? Why don’t you show me what you do with it?” he hums, his brown eyes dark with lust as he slips the toy into your palm. You nod softly, watching his face break out into a grin. “Give me a show, sweetheart.”

You spread your legs, revealing nothing but your panties underneath your oversized tee. A small wet spot already visible causing a low groan to come from Eddie’s chest. You slip your fingers into the tiny strings of your thong and pull the lace down to your ankles, kicking them off the bed with ease.

You switch the toy back on, placing the tip of the vibrator on your clit first, Eddie’s eyes immediately zone in on your pussy. Your body jolts slightly from the sensation. "You gonna touch yourself, baby?" you breathe, keeping your gaze on Eddie’s face. He trails his eyes back up your body, they seem even darker as they meet yours again.

He slowly reaches down unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down enough for his hard cock to spring free. You wanted more than anything to go fix that for him but Eddie had other plans. He wraps his fist around his cock, stroking slowly, your pussy getting even more wet at the sight.

"Put it in, princess." Eddie orders, his tone deep. You nod as you place the toy at your entrance. You gently slip it inside, moaning at the feeling of the vibrations deep inside.

"Does that feel good?" Eddie says, breathily. His hand still moving up and down his long cock as he keeps his eyes trained on you.

"Mmm... feels so good." you moan as you begin to move the toy in and out slowly, feeling your slick coat every inch of it.

"Faster, baby." Eddie demands and you speed up, thrusting the toy in and out at a quicker speed. Your hand runs across your breast as you close your eyes, focusing on the feeling of the toy moving in and out, faster and faster. Your moans grow louder with every thrust, the sounds of your soaked pussy making Eddie fuck his hand like a deprived man.

"There you go, baby. Harder." Eddie growls as you begin to fuck yourself as hard as you can.

"Mmm.. fuck." you whine as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

"Fuck that pussy, baby. God, you're so fucking hot." Eddie groan, quickly stroking himself.

"Spread your legs.. mmm.. I wanna see everything." Eddie pants, his thick cock dripping precum as he pumps his fist up and down. You let your knees fall to the side as you quickly thrust the toy in and out. "I'm gonna... mmm.. sh-shit." Eddie stutters as his eyes flutter, his warm cum spilling out onto his fingers.

"Eddiee." you whimper loudly, just as he leans forward, taking over, pounding the toy in and out of your drenched pussy. Your back arches immediately as he fucks you roughly with the vibrator. "Yes! Fuck, baby!" you cry as he brings his hand to your clit rubbing quickly.

"You gonna cum, baby?" Eddie hums.

You glance down seeing the toy gliding in and out, Eddie's fingers still working your clit. Your toy already shining from your slick.

"Y-yes! I'm gonna cum, Eddie."

"Cum for me, sweet girl." he demands and you feel the immediate high from your release. Your pussy clenches around the toy as you moan Eddie's name. He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours as he slows down his movements.

You whimper into his kiss as your orgasm finally comes to an end. Eddie pulls his lips from yours and you smile up at him, your entire body tingling. "Holy shit." you whisper. Eddie chuckles as he kisses your lips once more. "Mm.. I love you baby." he says softly, sliding the toy out, before dragging his tongue along the silicone, tasting your cum.

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

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pretty sure my thumbs have never typed so fast in my life when i got this prompt from @fishwithtitz

prompt was eddie x you smut + an image saying “you’ve been poisoned” at the bottom of a cup of coffee— i tweaked this a bit

18+ minors go away, smut! anal! biting, squirting, no condoms (don’t do this in real life unless you want a baby and can provide for one) a-to-v (also don’t do this unless you want a coochie infection) this is fanfic so pls keep that in mind, another secret gross thing that happens at the end. voyeurism! (kinda) eddie fucks, like reaaallly fucks.

<800k / eddie x fem reader

“fuck.”

The windows were streaked. Sweaty handprints pressed into the cold glass, telling a story to anyone walking past just exactly what was taking place behind the locked doors of the car.

The leather jacket you had peeled off of his shoulders laid on the floor along with one of your broken heels (the other— shoved stiletto first into the vent) along with shreds of ripped black pantyhose.

You sucked the ring on his lip into your mouth with a shaky moan, the heat from your mouth sending his tongue into a frenzy— making his hips thrust into your ass with such force you nearly hit the windshield.

Facing away from him, hands holding steady onto the dash, your fingernails scrape down the vinyl in long strokes as your tight ass bobs up and down his length.

“nasty girl,” he breathes into your ear, “fucking knew it the minute I saw you.”

Tonight was Rick’s birthday party, and when your friends had begged you to come out, you finally agreed.

Angling your neck to the moonlight he holds your necklace close to your throat in an all too smooth motion so it was gathered in his fist.

The marks he had sucked into your neck were already raised, and he smirked as he bit into your shoulder.

“Your boyfriend gonna care if you go home with these?”

Whining at the pleasuring pressure of his cock stuffed tight where nobody else has been, you rub a small circle into your clit, inserting your own manicured finger into your cunt.

“What boyfriend?” you panted out, playing coy.

He tweezed one of your nipples between his thick fingers, twisting until you yelped out.

“Oh baby, ‘m fuckin’ you dumb huh?”

Mewling in response he drives into you harder, faster, joining your hand on your clit until your release sprays over the dashboard. Cries spilling out of you and the sweet taste of tears ruining your makeup. He coaxes you on, cheering you like you’re a varsity lettermen.

Flipping you around so you’re facing him, he licks up your tears, shoving you forward into your own mess—your back slick with it.

He laughs a mocking chuckle at the sight of you, wrecked because of him. No time is wasted before he splits your pussy open, grunting when your eyes practically cross, knowing he’s bigger than the limp dick you’d been fucking until tonight, until him.

“If you don’t have a boyfriend— who’s car is this?”

You smile a wicked grin, telling him between gasps and his choked grunts.

“Perfect.”

—

He zips up his jeans— door to the car open as he tucks a lock of his hair behind his ear, looking for his shirt, a cigarette between his teeth.

Standing barefoot on the concrete, you’re no longer wearing the shoes or pantyhose you wore to the party you try smudging your eye makeup to make it look decent in the closed back window, when he speaks.

“I— yeah, I really hope you’re not expecting me to whisk you away to a fucking castle or some sh—”

You laugh light heartedly, “Eddie— trust me, I know.”

He shoves his head through the hole of his shirt, planting heavy boots on the ground before he stands taller than you, a devils smirk on his lips.

“Dating really isn’t my thing, but y’ might be more of a freak than I am, sugar.”

You both smile, standing awkward in post sex bliss.

“See ya ‘round?” you ask leaning into him, pressing your chest into the crisp white of his shirt before pressing a small kiss to his neck, leaving before his hands could hold the small of your back.

“Yeah, definitely,” he looks down wiping the cheesy grin from his face before calling after your leaving frame, “hit me up whenever you wanna fuck in Hargrove’s car again.”

—

That night at Rick’s, Billy was brought a beer by a pretty girl with smudged makeup, bare feet— a weird little smile on her face before she leaned into him, telling him, “drink up, handsome”.

The beer tasted different but he was already so sauced he didn’t notice.

He also didn’t notice a white milky substance at the bottom of the cup, or a message in writing that looked similar to the graffiti in the bathroom stalls at the Hideout.

Devil horns surrounded the scrawled message:

“How do I taste big boy?”

—

pls consider reblogging or commenting! it means so much to writers 🖤

hope you enjoyed the feral-ness ❤️‍🔥

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie blurbs #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fucks

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic

modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.

disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,

NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.

“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.

Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.

And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.

Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.

And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.

Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”

When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.

Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…

“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”

“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.

He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”

You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.

When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”

“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.

Finally, Steve pulls away.

“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”

“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”

And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.

“So how’d it go?”

You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.

“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”

Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.

“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”

Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.

He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”

Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”

“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.

“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.

Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.

“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”

“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”

Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.

“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."

Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.

All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.

Let's just hope he keeps it.

“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”

You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.

First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.

Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.

“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.

“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.

You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.

“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.

“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.

Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.

“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”

She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.

But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.

Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”

“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”

You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”

“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”

———

You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.

You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.

So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.

“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”

They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.

“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”

“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.

“…The very latest.”

“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”

The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.

Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.

Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.

“Let’s go.”

You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.

Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.

But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.

———

THE NEXT WEEK

You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.

Steve comes home right when you finish.

“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”

“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”

Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.

“You…made this for me?”

“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”

Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.

“Oh,” you sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine.”

Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?

“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.

“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.

“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.

Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.

“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”

You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.

The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.

“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”

“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”

He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.

“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”

“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.

“Hand me a glass.”

Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.

SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?

Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.

Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,

"Two and a half..."

It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.

“Three!” you two finally say together.

Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.

“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.

“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”

“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”

And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.

It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.

And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.

You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.

It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.

"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."

"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.

But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.

“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.

Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.

WEEK 38

An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”

He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.

“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”

“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”

While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.

Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.

"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"

You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.

“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”

The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.

"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.

Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.

Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.

But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"

"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."

"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.

"That," Henry answers him.

---

"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."

The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.

“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”

“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.

“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”

He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.

“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”

“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.

“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”

“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”

Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.

“0507, time of birth!"

“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”

To exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.

You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.

And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.

"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"

You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...

———

“How does that it, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.

“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.

“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”

A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.

“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.

“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”

“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”

“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.

Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).

And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.

“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”

You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.

Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.

Until Benny goes to sleep.

As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.

“Baby…” he moans into you.

“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”

He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.

It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.

“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.

“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”

“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”

And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.

“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”

“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.

Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

Text

The person this is about has me blocked. I don’t know this person and I’ve never once interacted with them. But by the way they treat people, I’m grateful I never have. This is supposed to be fun. A way for us to keep the characters we love alive and happy and filthy;) (if that’s what we choose). We’re all fucking weirdos and this is supposed to be a safe place for everyone to simply exist and write about the things we want. If you don’t mesh well with someone, that’s okay. If you don’t enjoy someone else’s writing, that’s okay too. But simply bullying people and calling out someone specifically by name when they did nothing to you is not. You’re being a mean girl and you’re being toxic as fuck. That’s not what this community is about. There was no excuse for your post or for you to go after one of the sweetest people on here. Pretty sure Eddie didn’t really like bullies. And it’s just rude behavior. With that, have the day you deserve ;)

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

Text

Ring of Fire

a biker Steve au

Part 1 || I went down, and the flames went higher

18+ONLY || afab!Reader, eventual smut, alcohol consumption, allusions to dirty deeds, smoking, allusions to sex with someone other than reader (not cheating), allusions to violence/fighting, bloody knuckles, eventual breaking & entering, biker!Eddie, biker!Hopper, reader and Steve are in their early 30's. Please read warning for each part.

masterlist playlist

Summary || You haven't set eyes on Steve Harrington since the 8th grade, but you have no problem recognizing him almost 20 years later when he steps back into your life. A lot has changed in Hawkeye, the town you grew up in, but a lot has stayed the same.

word count: 5k

A/N || This is my version of Hawkins, a town called Hawkeye, and it is a desert town surrounded by tumbleweeds, agriculture, and junkyards. Even though Steve is a biker and a mechanic, I try to maintain his "essence". I plan for this to be a shorter series, like 3 or 4 parts, but those are always famous last words from this lyin', cheatin' mouth. This is a niche fic, and for the ten people who will appreciate it, I love you.

The bell on the door dinged to let you know you had a customer, but you didn’t look up right away, you were too busy trying to figure out why your till was a few bucks short for the day. Donna would not be happy. Heavy foot falls made it to the counter and then the person in question cleared his throat.

“Ten on pump 2 and a pack of reds, please,” the voice was deep and scratchy, like he was recovering from a sore throat.

You closed the cash register and glanced up for the first time.

The sight made you inhale a sharp breath and hold it. The man had on a thick motorcycle jacket zipped up halfway over a white tee, atop blue jeans that were a dark denim wash, faded over time, with a tattered hole in one knee. There were tattoos scattered over his flesh, peeking from his collar, and down his hands. Letters on his knuckles spelled something that you couldn't quite make out, and he had a luscious mop of maple syrup hair on his head that looked like it had once been gelled into place but lost the fight hours ago. He raked a big hand through it slowly, pausing halfway through the movement, and tucked his chin to pin you with an anticipatory stare.

The last person you every expected to see again was Steve Harrington.

He pushed his wayfarer sunglasses up to reveal hazel eyes that were just as sad as they were electric. Swiping the tip of his tongue over his top lip, he repeated himself. “Pump 2?”

You gave a flustered wave of your hand. “Yes, of course,” turning to pull a soft pack from the wall behind you. “Matches?”

He shook his head, and then, “just a sec,” before sauntering over to the aisle on the other side of the potato chips.

Tossing a back of Magnum condoms on the counter next to his smokes, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket and said a polite, “those too, please.” The wallet was as worn as his jeans and connected by a chain to one of his belt loops.

The cash register made loud click-clack noises as you punched in the numbers and gave him the total. You weren’t expecting to see the wad of bills that fanned, but then he handed you what you needed.

“You new here?” He asked as you passed him his change, rolling a piece of bright green gum from the inside of his cheek to start chewing it again.

You stumbled over the question. “New to this store or Hawkeye?”

A smirk lifted up one side of his mouth. “Both, I guess?”

He was well aware that you were new to the corner gas n’ sip because he’d been a regular customer for years, and he definitely would have remembered you.

Definitely.

Yet, something about you felt very familiar.

“I grew up here,” your delivery was dry.

Steve tilted his head back to assess you down the bridge of his nose and frowned like he didn’t believe you. You noticed that his hands were rough and stained with evidence that he did some vocation of hard labor for a living.

You decided to humor him with a clue. “I left Hawkeye right before my freshman year. My hair was different back then, and my mom drove a big, white Buick LeSabre—-”

With an unblinking stare, he blurted your name, repeating it a few times in disbelief as the memory seized him.

There you were, the one who’d haunted his middle school dreams. The first notable crush he ever had, standing a few feet in front of him

“Shitttt,” he continued, scooping his purchases up in one hand, huffing out a breath. He searched your face, and you watched the light in his eyes intensify. “You were a year older than me, right? I remember you were always so bossy on the playground.”

You sealed your lips over a chuckle. “Well, someone had to keep you and Eddie from dismantling the playground equipment to sell to the salvage yard.”

Steve chomped down on his lip in a smile, his hip finding the edge of the counter, trying to get closer to you. “Copper,” he corrected with a one-eyed squint. “We wanted to dismantle the lampposts. Copper wiring could earn a pretty penny back then.”

“You’re still good with your hands I see,” gesturing to his calloused digits, the moons of his cuticles stained from motor oil, knuckles slashed with white scarring.

He flexed his right hand into a fist and then opened it again, deliberate and slow, watching you as he did so. “I do all right.”

He was leaning over the counter at that point, elbow resting next to the cash register, hip jutting out behind him, holding his mouth as if he were about to say something—-

“...and then, do you know what Ned said to me? Nothing, that’s what. Three days and I barely get two words out of him. Before you go, there are two crates that need to be put away in the back—-”

56 year old Donna, your boss, approached the front desk from the back room, buzzing with conversation. She stopped short when she saw Steve there, and tucked some silver, permed hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hey Steven,” she greeted.

“Donna,” he gave a twitch of a smile, standing to full height again, slipping his wallet into his back pocket. “I was just catching up with an old friend.”

Donna had on bright pink lipstick and heart-shaped, baby blue clip-on earrings. “You know Steve?”

“You could say that,” you stared at him as you said it. “I’ve tried to put it behind me.“

Steve ran his tongue over the ridge of his teeth at that, and you could see that the left incisor was gold.

Donna crowded in behind you, trying to get to the styrofoam container with her food inside that was on a stool just below the rack of caffeine pills. It was leftover burger and fries from the diner across the street and the smell had been making your mouth water.

“How’s Eddie?” Donna asked, and it was obvious she was talking to Steve. “Haven’t seen him drop by here in a while.”

Steve pulled his sunglasses out of his nest of hair and slid them back down to his nose before giving you one final look. You backed up against the cigarette display to watch him go.

“He’s been busy,” Steve gnawed his gum, addressing your boss. “Business at the garage has picked up since the only other mechanic in town split. I work there part time when I’m not—” he swallowed back whatever he was initially about to say. “---when I’m not doing other things.”

Donna shoved the corner of her sesame seed bun burger in her mouth, chewed it and kept talking. “I saw Robin yesterday. Her and Ratchet back together?”

In the past few days of your employment, you were learning that Donna was a pillar of gossip in the community, and she wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions.

Steve scratched the stubble on his chin, possibly contemplating how much he should share. “I think they have an understanding,” he chimed diplomatically, stealing another glance in your direction.

“Say hi to Wayne for me,” Donna added as Steve pushed his way out the mostly glass door. He waved over his shoulder in response, nodding that he would.

You shimmied further along behind the counter, pretending to organize the pens, so that you could follow where Steve was going, see what he was driving.

To your surprise, he pumped gas into a hulking, coal black motorcycle with ape-hanger handlebars and blue ghost flames on the tank. You were staring with your mouth slightly agape when Donna’s voice broke your concentration.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, cheek of food again. “That boy is adorable, but he’s bad news.”

“Why?” The question was out of your mouth before you were cognitively aware of it.

She thumbed ketchup from the corner of her mouth. “You ever heard of the Coffin Kings?”

Your gaze flicked to the side, catching Steve as he kicked a leg over to straddle the bike. “I don’t think—it doesn’t ring a bell.”

You were lying; of course you’d heard of the Coffin Kings. How could you forget the horde of long-haired bikers who cruised through town when you were a kid, a few of them stopping by to pick Eddie and Steve up from school on occasion. Eddie’s uncle Wayne was one of the original members, and most of the teachers kept their manners around the boys for that reason alone. Sure, Steve got detention for carving his initials into one of the school desks, but little did you know that it was only because he knew you would be in there too.

Steve revved the bike to life until it was growling, idling in place with his back to you while he strapped his bare bones helmet on.

“How do you know him?” Donna asked, not afraid to be pushy.

“Well, I—” you thought about the specifics of that question. “I don’t know him at all anymore, really. We were just kids. It’s been a long time.”

“You want my advice?” Donna wiped her mouth with a tissue from a nearby Kleenex box.

You didn’t, but you knew you couldn’t stop her from giving it to you.

“If you’re looking for a bad boy type, his friend Eddie is a much better catch. Runs his own business, works hard, stays out of trouble. Steve? Well, let’s say Stevie is just—-”

You turned to her as Steve hit the main road and shot into the distance. “He’s what?”

You waited while she rolled her lips together, wetting them thoughtfully, turning her gaze to the ceiling.

“He’s a nice kid, but he’s trouble,” she sighed. “He’s not the type you’d want to get serious with, if you know what I mean.”

Coincidentally, you did know what that meant. You were a bit of a connoisseur when it came to trouble; not only could you sniff it out, but it flocked to you like seagulls on a parking lot french fry.

But what Donna didn’t know was that you were no angel.

You scoffed at her suggestion. “I’m not looking for a relationship any time soon. I plan to stay single for a while.”

Donna dumped the rest of her dinner in the trash under the cash register. “In that case, you and Steve have more in common than I thought.”

—-----

Steve had the rest of the evening off, he should’ve gone straight home to have a beer in his boxers in front of the TV and try to pass out early. He’d been slinging wrenches at Munson’s Garage that day, a double shift to help Eddie out, and his hand was throbbing so hard he had to take it off the throttle and shake it out.

But also, who was he kidding? He hadn’t slept more than a few hours that whole week. He needed a distraction, he needed people, he needed to forget his gut-wrenching loneliness for a while.

He revved the throttle, shooting himself faster along the empty highway, passing nothing but flat alfalfa fields and the odd farmhouse every mile or so. The low, desert hills rolled like sleeping giants on the horizon as dusk descended.

The Blue Light Tavern was housed in a brick building built in the 40’s, located between the truck stop and the Rosebud Motel, about a mile or so from the center of town. The only way anyone passing by would even know it was a tavern was due to the neon Pabst and Jameson signs in the two tiny front windows. There were already two motorcycles out front when Steve pulled up, and he found a spot at the end.

The bartender that night was Angie, and she greeted him by name when he strolled in. He asked for a beer, picked some songs on the jukebox, and started a game of pool with a fellow MC member, cigarettes bobbing from their lips as they played.

That's when you walked in.

He took a drink from his pint glass, pausing it there, watching you scan the room before making your way quietly to one of the stools at the far end of the bar, on the corner, closest to the door, as if you might have to make a run for it. You were in the same clothes you’d had on at the gas n’ sip, but now you wore a zip-up black hoodie, hugging it around your ribs as if you were cold.

The guy Steve was playing pool with was known as Big Jim around Hawkeye. Head of hair slicked back with generous sideburns down to his jaw, and a white scar making a thin indentation from the corner of his mouth to his ear. He wore a long sleeve red and black flannel under his Coffin Kings kutte with the name Hopper patched on one side.

Hopper said something to Steve and he appeared to ignore him, but finally blinked a few times. “What did you say?”

Hopper held his pool cue across his lap as he sat on one of the tall swivel chairs against the wall, long legs braced wide. “It’s your move, Romeo,” he drawled, plucking his smoke from the ashtray to take a drag. .

Steve suddenly got very confused, frowning when he turned to his friend. How could Hop know he was interested in you?

Hop gestured to the green felt under the Budweiser chandelier with his chin, exhaling, framing his lips to make an “O” with the smoke. “Your turn, pipsqueak.”

“Right,” Steve huffed, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall.

—--------

You waited outside, staring up at the Pabst neon that was missing the “b”, trying to work up the nerve to go in. The Blue Light Tavern had been around so long, you remembered it from the rare occasions when your dad met up with his buddies, back when it was called The Hideaway. Before the accident, back when you were a kid and considered Hawkeye your home.

You were officially a resident once more, but you weren’t sure if you’d feel at home anywhere ever. You weren’t sure if you’d ever feel safe again. You weren’t sure you’d ever feel again.

When you finally opened the door, smoke billowed out, and the low-lit, grimey ambiance felt like a familiar friend. You weren’t in the mood to drink, necessarily, you just didn’t want to sit at your apartment alone. There weren’t many public places open in Hawkeye after 9, so you’d just been walking around aimlessly for the past hour. Your tiny rental above the Gas n’ Sip was empty but for a mattress, two kitchen chairs, and five or six boxes you still needed to unpack. It all felt too dismal and overwhelming to tackle after your first full day at your new job.

“What’ll it be darlin’?” The brunette bartender asked, using a white rag to wipe down the bar in front of you. There was ice melting in a tumbler, a few used toothpicks, and a sticky ring on the woodgrain. She scooped it all out of the way and then stared at you with a hand on her ample hips.

You were flustered and said the first thing that came to mind. “Can you make a gin and tonic?”

“I think I can handle that,” she winked, moving out of the way to grab a glass. You could hear the billiard balls clacking together over the music of Bringin' on the Heartache by Def Leppard , but there was a jukebox and a length of partition in the way, so you couldn’t see who was at the table. Including you, there were only a handful of customers that night; one surly man with a long gray beard at the bar, a couple at a table looking up at the mounted Zenith TV on the wall playing a muted episode of the Twilight Zone, and another two were throwing darts at a well worn target.

Angie placed a white cocktail napkin before setting your drink down. “Someone bought you this,” she had tiny veins of red around the cracks of her bare lips, as if she’d been wearing lipstick earlier.

“Someone?” Disbelief came first, and then it made you paranoid. The last thing you wanted was to get hit on by—-

“It was him,” Angie gestured down the end of the bar to where Steve caught your eye and bucked his chin at you.

The universe really did have a sense of humor.

—-----

A few minutes later, once he finished his game and let Hopper win just to move things along, he sauntered over to put his booted foot up on the bottom rung of the stool next to you. His white tee had a V-neck, exposing a tuft of chest hair. “Are you following me?”

You swished your drink with a red stir stick, and then sucked it clean. “I won’t let this freebie go to my head, Harrington. I bet you buy drinks for all the new women in town.”

He gripped a fresh cigarette between pursed lips and lit the end, looking up at you from under his furrowed, James Dean brow. “Yeah, but you’re not new.”

“Shhh it’s a secret,” you snipped two fingers in the air like a pair of scissors and he grinned at that, offering his pack of reds for you to take one. One of his ears was pierced, and a small silver hoop curved there.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t,” you answered flatly, leaning over so that he could light the end for you with his plastic blue Bic, inhaling so that your cheeks hollowed.

“You want to read my palm again?”

“Again?” You exhaled smoke to the side.

Steve straddled the stool and got comfortable with his elbows on the bar. “You read my palm once when we were kids,” he straightened his arm, locking his elbow, so that his palm was open in front of you. “I think you said my love life would be troubled, but I’d live a long life. And then you made some crack about how I’d let the right one get away.”

You huffed a laugh and chomped onto your bottom lip to keep from smiling too big, staring at his strong fingers as they wiggled in front of you, veins popping strong in his forearm.

“I can’t believe you remember that.” Tilting your head to the side, you took another sip of your drink, cringing a little at the strength of the alcohol; it was a glass of gin with a splash of tonic. But maybe Angie’s heavy hand was a blessing that night.

The gold in his flashed like lightning in a storm. “I remember everything,” his voice was soft and deep, and you had to look away before he turned you into a brainless, lovesick zombie from his vampiric-strength powers of persuasion.

Clearing your throat, you squirmed a bit under the weight of his stare. “My palmistry days are behind me. I’m out of practice.”

He slid his hand back, but slowly, hoping you might want to touch it or grab it or—-

“But I am curious—”

Fingers flexed flat again as an invitation.

“---what does it say on your knuckles?”

“Oh these?” He made two fists and twisted them to read it himself as if he wasn’t sure, and then put both palms flat and slid them back in your direction, fingers splayed.

Murmuring aloud as you spelled it out, you realized that the right knuckles spelled LOVE and the left ones said PAIN in thick, capital lettering.

“My turn,” he pulled back his shoulders, taking another drag, squinting, before resting his cigarette butt back in the ashtray.

“Your turn for what?”

“Questions. What is that key around your neck for?”

You slapped a hand over the metal piece dangling from a chain, not realizing it had escaped the confines of your shirt collar, fingering it thoughtfully as you thought about what type of story you should make up.

You could tell him the truth, but you weren’t sure you were emotionally equipped to answer any further questions. You made a fist around the key and started massaging it with your thumb, when another hulking biker with a thick mustache cupped a meaty hand onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Bones just paged, we gotta meet them at the junkyard on ,” the big man shifted his kind, blue eyes to you, blinking with a nod of his head to acknowledge your presence, and offer his silent apologies all at once.

Steve stood without argument, clearly duty bound, but his attention remained on you. He motioned Hopper ahead, and then he idled there, internally stumbling over his words.

“Any chance you’ll be here again tomorrow night?” He flicked the spark on his lighter a few times as he spoke out of nervous habit.

You tucked the metal key into your shirt. “I work the late shift at the gas station tomorrow.”

His mood seemed to lift slightly at knowing where you would be.

“Taz,” Hopper hummed from the door where he braced it open with his broad back, offering a blast of fresh air to the nicotine saturated walls. Taz was Steve’s nickname in the club, but that was just one more thing you had yet to learn about him. He adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, gave your bicep a tender squeeze as he went by, and leaned down to whisper, “it’s good to see you,” at the shell of your ear, giving you goosebumps.

Once he was gone, the tavern suddenly felt emptier, the sound of George Thorogood singing about drinking alone pounding much louder as you stared down at the glass in your hand.

You finished your drink and then you made the trek back home, hugging yourself against the crisp night breeze, wondering how you would occupy your time for the next couple hours before you found sleep.

—------

The roar of their two engines cut through the dry June night like a knife, affording no illumination but their headlights and the moon. Steve had replaced his leather jacket with his own MC leather that said TAZ on the front from one of his saddlebags, bare flesh of his arms exposed to show the scattering of tattoos there as he gripped the handlebars. Both riders wore clear safety glasses to protect their eyes from the wind and the kamikazee bugs.

Snipes Junkyard loomed menacingly in the expanse of desert, shrouded in cobalt night. Heaps of twisted metal wreckage, smashed cars all piled on top of each other, and a high fence made of corrugated metal with curls of razor wire along the top ridge.

There was a group of bikes parked out front when they arrived and two of the Coffin Kings Prospects, Riot and Krebs, guarded the gate to the place.

Both new arrivals put their helmets on the end of their handlebars and tucked their safety glasses into their front pocket as they approached.

“What are we walking into?” Hopper asked, and Riot was already shaking his head in answer.

“The underground tunnels were breached,” he said, tucking a strand of curly black hair behind his ear. “Crater isn’t happy.”

Crater was a Hawkeye native who got his nickname because of the chicken pock scars that covered his cheeks and jaw. He was also President of one of the other MC’s in town called the Skull Crushers.

When tensions were high among the gangs, there was always a good chance someone would pull a gun or start punching, so Steve and Hopper shared a weary look, bracing themselves before entering.

—------

Just as you were about to step up onto your block, you caught sight of someone coming out of the mini mart that you lived above. A side door led up a flight of narrow stairs, and the top room was all yours; it was the size of a tin can, but it was shelter and you were grateful.

Through the soft glow of the front window, you saw Donna’s husband Ned behind the counter with his half-moon reading spectacles on and a novel open in front of him. Which reminded you to make sure you brought some material to entertain you on your shift the next night.

Somewhere not too far off in the distance, a group of coyotes yipped their excited whines.

The person who’d just come out paused on the sidewalk to light a smoke, and you sank around the corner of the building to watch the guy in the jeans, leather, and thick boots stroll over to put some gas in the tank of his Harley. Bulkier than the one Steve rode, this one was glossy obsidian with chrome pipes and a sissy bar in back, as if he usually had a rider with him. His hair was unruly, long and dark, and once you caught a glimpse of his profile from the dim beam above the pumps, you knew right away that it was Eddie Munson.

You thought about getting his attention to say hello, but then realized that your social battery was tapped for the day. The cigarette dangled from his mouth when he took off, and you waited until he was down the street before darting to the stairs of your apartment.

—-----

A few hours later, Steve’s left hand with the PAIN held a black payphone receiver to his ear while the other hand rolled the numbers on the rotary dial. His knuckles were freshly spit and bleeding, since one of the Skull Crushers had come at him during a misunderstanding at the meet earlier, and he was forced to lay the guy out. He felt wired, like rest had somehow become his enemy, something he ran from as it tracked him ruthlessly.

A woman who went by the name Lorelei picked up on the second ring.

“It’s me,” he coughed and tasted that familiar copper tang. “It’s Steve. Are you busy?”

It was almost 4 in the morning, but Steve had been a regular customer for a few months and, also, she didn’t mind his company. He wasn’t like her other customers; he didn’t want the typical things from her.

His hand haphazardly bandaged with a red handkerchief; he hugged it to his chest when he knocked at the door of room 8 at the Rosebud Motel. When it opened, Lorelei stood there with a silk, periwinkle kimono wrapped snug around her curves, and motioned him in. There were two lamps on in the room, both of their shades were draped with floral scarves, and a candle burned on the nightstand, smelling of essential oils, bergamot and lavender. She didn’t live at the Rosebud, but she did stay a few nights in a row there when she was working.

Steve's relationship history thus far had been a blur of endless disconnect, a series of hit and runs that left his heart empty and his eyes vacant. It was easy for a guy in a motorcycle club to get laid; their parties were always crawling with eager pussy. But after a certain age, that wasn’t what he craved anymore. He often worried that the parental dynamic he’d witnessed growing up, or lack thereof, had fucked him up to the point that he would never be able to have a normal relationship with a girl he liked.

A while ago he’d given up on love, figured that he was broken. But he still had urges, and making them transactional helped him to disengage further.

“What are you in the mood for?” Lorelei hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled him closer, searching his face. “Same as last time, hmm?”

Steve lowered his head, internal exhaustion making him dizzy. He held her arm, thumbing the delicate material of her robe. “Not tonight,” he swallowed thickly. “Just the stuff that…comes after.”

Nodding that she understood, she cupped his chin so he would look at her. “Will three hours be enough?” One look at him told her what he needed was 24 at the least, but three was all she had to give.

Over the years, Steve had come to realize that his insomnia was somehow cured when he could sleep next to someone. To roll over and have them there, to hold them. Alone, his mind raced, and nightmares plagued the inside of his eyelids. With Lorelei, they mostly slept side by side, and the weight and familiarity of her was somehow enough to calm his nervous system down to a reasonable level.

“Come,” she sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to unlace his boots. He wrestled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, ready to pluck some bills out, but she put her hand up to stop him.

“After, okay? I trust you,” she whispered, tugging off the first boot by the heel, rubbing the ball of his foot a little before moving to the next shoe.

Steve’s head bobbed on his neck, and then he rolled it back to center, eyes heavy.

He always refused to undress fully, and Lorelei suspected it had something to do with how vulnerable it made him feel, but she never asked questions. He scooted up to find the pillow with his head, and by the time she crawled in next to him and put her hand on his thigh, he was out.

-------

Thank you to my darling readers who love biker Steve!

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

Text

Dirty Joshy

Take it back ~ blurb

Warnings: crying, overstimulation, language, unprotected sex, you being mean to Josh(he’s okay I promise), m dom/f sub, oral(m/f receiving), slight jealously, and I believe that’s all.

“More Josh” you whined as Josh slowly slid in and out of you

You had a long day and Josh was trying to help you unwind. All was well but you wanted more. “Harder baby”

He sped up, but it wasn’t enough. You started pulling at his back, and digging your heels into him. Your whines became louder as your need became stronger.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to cry” Josh asked so sweetly.

“I n-need m-more- please more”

“Calm down baby. What do you want more of?”

“Harder. Rougher. I need it” tears threatened your eyes.

“Breathe baby. I’ve got you”

He slammed into you giving you what you wanted. When you winched in pain he stopped . “I can’t darling I don’t wanna hurt you.

“No it feels good. Please”

“I can’t hurt you. I can’t”

“Please” you choked out tears failing from your eyes. “I bet your brother would” that was mean. By brother you meant Jake. Look at him he’s entire personality tells you everything. The way he practically fucks his guitar on stage. Yeah you knew how he’d be in bed. Fucking ruthless.

You covered your mouth in shock from your words. In fear of hurting his feelings you went to apologize. Instead it only made him want you more.

“Oh that’s what you want” he smirked at you. His sweet demeanor changed into a side of him you’ve never seen. “You want me to fuck you like Jake?”

You stared at him in shock. He grabbed your throat “use your words or your not getting shit”

“Yes” you cried. “Yes please Josh”

“That a girl. Do you want it?”

“Josh I want it so fucking bad”

“You poor thing. On your knees”

“Baby please”

“Stop fucking whining. You heard me”

This was hardly Josh at all, but you fucking love it.

You got on your knees, and put your hands on your lap. If you were good maybe he’d give in, but you forget he can see right through you.

“Trying to be a good girl to get what you want?”

“No I just wanna be good for you”

“Good answer pretty girl. Open up”

He slid himself inside your mouth. “More”

He hit the back of your throat, and you tried hard not to gag. “Look at me darling. If it’s to much just tap my arm”

His pace picked up and you gagged around him. Instead of pulling out like he usually does. He nuzzled himself deeper. You gagged again, but you didn’t get a break. Over and over occasionally he pulled out, but not for very long. “You got it baby. I’m right there”

Tears once again were streaming down your face. He grabbed the back of your head, shoved you down. until your nose brushed against his stomach. “All the way that’s my pretty girl. I’m about to finish you ready?”

You signaled to him that you were, and he let go in your mouth. You stuck your tongue out to show him the mess he made. Then swallowed all of it and wiped your lips.

“Such a good girl aren’t you?” You nodded your head hoping he’d give you what you needed. “Come here”

He laid down on his back, and you followed his lead. He patted his lap for you to sit on top. “You look so pretty up there. Actually I think you’d look prettier here” he pointed at his mouth. You sat there confused he’s never asked you to do this before.

He noticed all the thoughts running through your head. “Unless you don’t want it”

“No!” You shouted and made your way up him. He grabbed your hips and pushed you down. You gasped out immediately. He began to work his tongue at an unforgiving pace. He always teases you with small kitten licks, but not now.

“Josh slow down baby”

He completely ignore you, and gripped your hips harder. That warm feeling that you knew so well began to form in your stomach. “Josh im gonna cum” you pulled at his curls and began to squirm.

With his hands around your waist moving you as you rode his face. Your orgasm took over and you lost complete control. He shoved you off, and flipped you on your stomach. “Ass up mama”

Before you could adjust yourself he slammed into you. You moaned out wishing you could stop yourself, but when you went to cover your mouth he wouldn’t let you. “Don’t you fucking dare. Let me hear you”

“Josh it feels so good”

“Is this what you need pretty mama? Some rough sex. You want me to destroy this pretty pussy?”

“Oh god Josh yes”

“Say it. Say you take back what you said about my brother. You know damn well he can’t give you what I can”

“I take it all back. I do. I promise. Your the best. You fuck me so good. Fuck I love your cock, and only yours”

“Sweetheart I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that”

“I can’t- I can’t help it. I think I’m gonna-”

He pulled out immediately making you cry once more. You begged for him, but he just laughed at your efforts. “So needy. Are you begging for my cock darling?”

“Please baby please I need it so bad”

“You need what?” He questioned purely just to tease you.

“I need to cum”

“And how exactly?”

“I need your cock. I need you inside me. All the way please Joshy please let me cum”

“That’s what I like to hear” He slid inside, but didn’t move. “Come on baby take us there”

You whined in protest but he insisted. You started pushing yourself back on him then moving forward. Fucking yourself against him. He put his hands his own hips watching you do the work. You tried as hard as you could to keep going, but eventually your pace began falling. “I’m trying so hard Josh”

“I got us pretty mama”

He laid his chest against your back, and gently grabbed your throat. “Let go for me. I’m right behind you”

You did just as he said, and let your release take over your body. You cried out his name, and he cried out yours. All that dominating attitude left as quick as it came. Your gentle sweet boy was back, as you laid in his arms. “That wasn’t to much was it?”

“For you maybe” you laughed.

“Yeah let’s hope you don’t want a round two”

You both agree that there was no way in hell that would happen. You laid on his chest, and his arms wrapped around you. Your eyes began to get heavy, and you made sure to remind him you loved him. He talked softly about his love for you as you fell asleep to his voice. You remembered then just how much you loved Josh being gentle with you.

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

Text

HELLSCAPE, INDIANA

Hawkins, Indiana by way of sunny Alabama...

Eddie X Fem w/ all fem parts & fem pronouns

Series: Eddie's 3rd senior year is going to be mortal hell until a brand new off-the-lot shiny silver IROC Z28 squeals into Hawkins' student lot. Out steps a pair of black stilettos with a pair of white ruffled babydoll-socked feet in them. Jesus, Hawkin's ain't ready for the tornado head to tear shit up. Hair teased to the heavens and a mouth that would shame the devil, a whirlwind of piss and vinegar has come to torment and tease all of Hawkins but her target sweet, scary Eddie is no match. He better be ready!!!!

Hellscape Indiana- Ongoing Series- Spotify Playlist in the works- will update soon.

1 Hellscape and Hellraiser!

All right Hawkins, Peanut is coming, bringing trouble, ripping this town apart and winning Eddie's Heart!!!

Each part will have warnings.

Warnings‐ Part 1- I played with the years a bit be prepared.

Language? Length? Excessive details? IDFK? Jk Funny, fluff, no y/n, the reader is depicted as Southern, a female w/ all bells & whistles from birth, I/Me/Badass pronouns, multilingual: asshole, redneck, smart-ass, mute and can I climb in your skin, Eddie?, Billy is Billy yk, canon friend groups, and characters.

Backstory people! I gotta have a backstory! How am I gonna get these freakin details outta my dome??

Sorry! It's 5k of who, what, when, why, and where… Find errors DM me, I need all the help I can get. 😎melanie

1989, the most awful year and the year you have looked forward to since 1978! Awful first; why the hell am I a deep south girl in black hell Indiana? Nothing within a gazillion miles to fuckin' do. And can you say Bum-Fuck-Egypt AKA Hawkins “Hell” Indiana!” I have looked forward to my senior year since my mama forced me to go to 1st grade! School…. It's better behind me!

So here I am in the driveway of my ‘new’ home in the nicest neighborhood in podunk Hawkins? Cussin up a blue streak at my daddy's whorin way's that drug me up here in the god-forsaken hell hole! The upside is a new car and it's my senior year. As soon as I walk that stage I am haulin ass back to Bama! Might as well get on with it. Thank god I hate people so being the new girl isn't gonna be a biggie for me.

My baby ‘Silver’, a shiny newly released 1990 Chevy Camaro Iroc z28 with a 350 big block, glass packs, and t-tops (a bribe from Icky Dickie to move, not that I had a choice) rumbles like an earthquake as I pull into the student parking lot at Hawkins (Hell) High. Of course, my windows are tinted… I mean I did come from a place hotter than Satan's ball sack! So nobody can see it is a chick driving. They can hear Metallica blaring from my system (also via Icky). All eyes on me. That's what I get for being a Hellraiser! according to my wild-ass mama.

I step out of Silver looking like no one else. Imagine that! I can prep with the preppies, nerd with the nerdies, dance with the breakers, play ball with the ballers but here I will be a headbanger. I can be whoever I want to be! Rich girl trying to be hard. That's what they will say. Little do they know, our kinda rich is daddy dumbing into a fortune that my grandkids won't be able to spend. We were poor when I lived with my mama and the kids. Dirt poor had a hard time keeping the lights on was a chore. Now Icky keeps Ma in fine form.

My black heels click on the freshly waxed hallway as I head to my first class. I have seen a couple of bangers since I picked up my schedule in the office. The nosey office lady asked 100 questions. So now I gotta high step across the building. A dirty blonde hottie stops me “Hey new babe, what's your name? You are so fine. I'm Billy, you need to meet me in the parking lot after school.” Oh, he is conceited and a boy-slut. Fun! Mr Booty Call is surely not boyfriend material! Also, condoms are mandatory. “Hey Billy, I'm not interested in ¾ of the chicks and some of the teachers in this school's sloppy seconds.” I tried to let him down easy.

🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘🚘

My first class is Civics. The teacher sounds like the teacher on Ferris Bueller's Day Off! Bueller, Bueller, Bueller…… Shit, I will be brain fucked every morning for the next 170 days. The next 2 classes are AP English and Music. I can jam through those. The lunch break is a free-for-all! In the cafeteria, there are hundreds of kids, loud, wild, and all over the tabletops. What the fuck? Do they not teach their children manners in this hellhole? Obviously, I come from a more structured environment. This is a fuck no for me.

A bag of hot fries (thank god they have them in black hell), a Dr Pepper, and I find a secluded area to smoke and snack. The kids here are about a year behind us in the redneck city I came from. Reminds me of my cousins from the sticks. The cheer-squids (they are more like squids than a squad) wear their uni's on Monday? How fuckin sad! Scared to death they will become unknown without them. Jocks cruise by doing nut checks and I'd fuck her or not fuck her as they pass girls. Truth is the ones who have had them were mostly disappointed in the 3 pumps and dump these ‘boys’ hand out calling it ‘all night long’!

🦑🥜🦑🥜🦑🥜🦑🥜🦑🥜🦑🥜🦑🥜🦑🥜🦑🥜

The rest of the day was utterly boring. I flounced out to Silver and a cock-gobbler was leaning on my bitch like he owned her. “How bout you get the fuck off my shit before I show you how my redneck daddy taught me to fight and beat a motherfuckin man!” I said. Billy Hargrove, Mr Every woman wants me and every man wants to be me, turns around, and laughs. “There she is the new babe and she is a rounder. Aww, babe, your daddy surely knew better than to put you in this beast! You'll be wrapped around a tree in no time. You need a strong man to handle this car and you, honey!” He finishes strong and self-assured.

“Aww, honey!” I say and grab me a whole handful of his balls. “I can handle my baby here and her big block 350, your dick, bag, balls, and all. And protect myself from dirty boys like you.” I roll his nuts lightly, as lightly as his skintight Levi's would allow. “I know a booty call when I see one. If I get hard up I'll call ya, babe.” With a hard shove and some theatrics, I send him packin! fuckin dick.

Little did I know I made an enemy, a fan, and lots of friends that day. Poor ole Billy was loved to be hated in Hawkins. Although he has been said to lay the pipe with stamina if you know how to get yourself off while he's doin' it. Filed in my mind's Rolodex for a desperately, desperate day.

🍆🗿🍆🗿🍆🗿🍆🗿🍆🗿🍆🗿🍆🗿🍆🗿🍆🗿

My first-day monotony became the fifth in a blur of blahhh. Kids are smiling, saying Hi, and smiling, but not really trying to approach me. My asshole attitude is radiating off of me. Jesus, I may be booty-calling before it's over with. Damn, am I that hard up? Holy shit! Not yet bitch, not yet! I need to find the reefer man in the shithole, that will help my stress and boredom. My plan is to hit the stoners at the picnic tables by the student lot. Scoring some smoke will do a lot to calm my irritation and I have lots of irritation!

“Sup bro? Y'all know where I can score?” I ask. I know all the surfer/skater lingo due to being close to the beach and dating several of them. “This bitch got my mind busted, I need to get with Cheech & Chong man.” This kid blinks at me like Im'a alien or some shit. He doesn't say a word, just hikes his thumb over his shoulder towards the woods. I follow a path into an opening in the woods where a couple more tables sit. From the back, I see something I know well: a banger boy. I have had a many leather-jacketed, long teased-out haired, metal-loving man-boy under and on top of me.

I let him conduct his business without interrupting. To my surprise, a candy-sweet voice says, “Eddie, you are the best! I call you to meet up and work out your payment.” The chick hugs him and sees me. “Oh! Ahh, who, ahh, sorry, I'm, shit, thanks Ed. Here's your money. Yeah?" Ms Cheersquid Captain hot asses out of there praying I didn't hear the convo about payment. The banger slowly turns around scared of who he might find. Hmmm, ole gal's gotta dude. Probably a jock.

“Hey, yeah, sorry I spooked her. I'm new and you're Eddie. I'm looking for a dime or quarter, someone pointed me in this direction.” I said with a smirk. Banger Eddie's eyes are as big around as dinner plates and as murky as the Chattahoochee River during a drought. Deep and syrupy, man, I gotta get fucked and soon! I can't be havin' sex fantasies about every fine dude I see. Those pretty, perfect, pink lips would look wonderful wrapped around my clit! Lookin' at me through them long, sooty eyelashes! Fuckin A’!

“Hey, chick! Hey dude! Hey! Fuck it! Hey BIT…” The reefer angel was about to say hey bitch but I snap out of a particularly raunchy fantasy before he got it out. “Watch It Beautiful. A pretty face can be ugly'd real quick like and in a hurry calling a chick a bitch! I mean you don't know me and I don't know you so, I will bust you in the mouth.” I tell him matter of factly. All I see are those dinner plate eyes staring, unblinking at me. Mouth gaped open catchin' flies. “Oh, babydoll, you can't just stand there and drool when a lady comes on to you! Very unmannerly. Hey man! Hey dude! Hey, Fuck Me! Oh, you’re awake now, huh?” I snicker. “Ffffffuck,... you? Like to get the wwweed?” Bless his heart, angel Eddie is flustered.

I really wanted to bust a gut, I didn't but I wanted to. “Naw Darlin', I can pay for my smoke. I was jokin' but if you need to relieve some stress you can call me.” I giggle and give him a nasty smirk. Swear to God I would eat him up! “You gotta woman? Or you just screwin' that squid for pot? Business or personal?” My mouth keeps peppering him with questions. Finally, he arches an eyebrow at me, “Well darlin', if you shut your cherry lips. I'll answer your questions.” Mmmm, he does have balls. All he can focus on is my tongue snaking out to lick my top front teeth. “Hmm, I can shut them in ‘all kinds’ of ways and places!” I look at him expectantly.

“Now, I take ‘all kinds’ of payment arrangements but in the end, it has to come back around to cash.” I don't know who he was trying to convince. He was definitely giving squid girl nickels from his personal stash. “I would be more than happy to do business with a lady who knows cash is king. My favorite kind of customer, an exquisite chick with cannabis knowledge and a habit she can afford.” He dramatically draped his arm across his forehead in a faint. “Ok Scarlett O'Hara, let's get you seated before you swoon.” I help Eddie to the bench where he flops down.

After a quiet few minutes, Eddie breaks the silence. “So you are from the South, huh?” He mumbles. “Yes, pretty boy I am. Alabama to be specific. About 60 miles from the Gulf of Mexico and 5 hours from Daytona. Panama City Beach and Daytona claim to be the Spring Break Capitals of the World. You heard of it?” My ass flops down on the bench too close to the Reefer Man (I plan on gettin' straight in this man's Levi's! And soon!!). “Sure, always watch it on MTV looks bitchin'! Did you go?” He knows I want him to come back at me with a smart-ass remark. He smirks and refuses to give me what I want. “Yep! I was at both. If you watched it then you saw me. I was on several different days. Budweiser Wet T-shirt contest at La Vela, Panama Jack Bikini Contest, and on stage in Daytona at the Chili Pepper/Skid Row concert dancing in a pair of cut-off Daisy Dukes.” A click comes out of my mouth to get his attention off my tits.

“Like for real? No bullshit?” He says mainly to himself. “Leopard neon pink bikini, neon pink gloves, socks and stilettos. Number 7, huge neon bow in your hair. Damn girl! We called you Jack-off Jackie. Yes, for obvious reasons. Sorry, I didn't know you then. Jesus h crisco! Harrington is not going to fucking believe this shit! For god's sake don't let the meatheads find out or the cheer squad, those bitches are cruel!” He babbles about people and cliques or some such shit. “The bully bitches will be all over you.” His worried tone makes me feel sorry for him and his anxiety.

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After convincing him I'm a fighter, we got back to the business at hand. “A quarter?” Eddie asks looking curious. “Who are you burnin' with?” He's quite nosy. “Huh? Smoke with? My friends; me, myself, and I.” An obnoxious laugh shot out of my nose and mouth. “Ugggghh, Damn baby that was so metal! Tell me about ya smokin' alone? A is a pretty good amount for one chick. Store it in a cool, dry, and dark place.” He looks at me puzzled. “Awesome! What a fuckin spaz! Sorry. I'm not normally this awkward.” My face has to be brick red.

“Listen, pretty boy, I'm tryin' to get through this purgatory of a school year so that I can hightail my ass straight back South!” I bitch. He is surprised by my passion on the subject of getting out of this shithole, that will be freezing in a short few months! “Hey, I get it. I've been dreaming about escaping this midwest Mayberry! My whole fuckin life!” Eddie bounces around hyper with excitement. “Even the thought amps me up! So your quarter is $15, new customer deal.” He tries to be slick luring me in with a discount. Little does he know I'd pay full price and fuck him. I stuck thirty bucks in his front pocket. Deep in his pocket. “Here ya go gorgeous! I'll think of ya when I'm fried and horny, see ya bud!” I patted his front pocket, whispered, and flounced out of the woods.

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“Fuck-a-roni! That girl is too hot to handle!” he blabs to the kids at Hellfire. “She was not on MTV Spring Break. Ed, she fed you a line of bullshit!” Dustin insists his wild curls bobbing as he snickers. “Alright smart-ass careful or you will be dead before this campaign gets started! I actually have it on Beta. If you guys were older you could watch it. Jesusssss on a cracker! Harrington says it is the hottest thing he's ever seen!” Eddie antagonizes the younger teens. Lucas huffs, “We are not too young to appreciate T&A, Ed!” Mike volunteers. Gareth pipes in, “I'll drive you home to grab it and we can use AV clubs Beta Player and TV to watch it!”

The Infamous Spring Break Beta is now the talk of Hell High. Some idiot jock asked me yesterday after calculus if the Beta was a rumor. “I don't know, Stud. Do I look like a suntan oil model?” I drawl slowly in my best southern airhead accent. He bought my act hook, line, and sinker. The soles of my Docs clomp down the hall to my next class. By the end of week 3, I realized the error of my ways! The Hawkins Hellscape rumor mill works like a well-oiled machine.

“Hey, I'm Steve Harrington. I know you know and I know your name. Sorry, this Beta shit has got blown out of proportion. Just so you know I haven't ya know…. anyway to the video for a long time. I just want you to know.” Robin Buckley bops up about midway through Steve's fumbling speech. “Stevie! Jesus! She already knows what y'all do to the videos of her half-naked!” Robin and I laugh like nuts at Steve's red, splotchy face and indecisively turning in circles. “Shut it, Rob! I do believe you borr…..” SMACK!!! “SHUT THE FUCK UP, DINGUS! I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP!” Robin slaps Harrington in the back of his head, hard.

Between the squids, jocks, preps, and nerds all leering at me all day long and the pervs trying to rub up on me. I am ready to run the hell away! A sight for sore eyes! My pretty boy is actually within catchin' distance. He avoids me like the plague since his whole admission of beatin' his meat to me in a wet t-shirt. I quietly slide up next to him without drawing his notice. My nonchalant facade cracks, I run my hand around his painted-on Levis and pat his front pocket where I put my money for my reefer.

Eddie Munson blushes and does his best to flee. “Wait, wait little bunny boy! I'm not going to bite, precious.” My quietest and most gentle wounded animal voice helps him relax a bit. “You talked to Steve and Rob? Are you mad? I had no idea somebody would spread it this fast! Nosey motherfuckers and their boring lives. I pray to the gods of Metallica and Iron Maiden that my music gets me the hell out of thisl goddamned hellhole soon!” Eddie's mouth runs 90 to nothing until he runs out of air. “Lovebug! I'm not mad. Hell if I was ashamed I wouldn't been up there with my tits and ass basically out on national TV. My folks know, my daddy hates it! So I display my winning trophies, crowns, and shit front and center in my side of the Fred Sanford Mansion.” I laugh as relief floods his face.

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“Hargrove, I ain't near desperate enough to come booty callin' to you yet. Do not touch me or you will get a dose of Minerva Medicine right now.” Billy's slimy ass tryin to grab my hips. I reach in Silver and grab a weathered ash baseball bat that has nicks, gouges, and splinters from use. Not from baseball either. Old Minerva gal is my friend who comes out when I need help convincing someone I ain't for no bullshit! She eats headlights and taillights for breakfast, glass and metal for lunch, and heads and knees for supper. Minerva is my BFF and never lets me down. “Aww, Billy boy, Minerva would love to get her hands on you! She would just eat you up, baby!” I cackle in his face. Billy Boy calls me a crazy fuckin slut and stomps off.

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“Ok, Dusty! Damn it all! Yes for fuck's sake! I come from the peanut capital of the world! Jesus of course I know they grow underground like potatoes. For shit kid, stop jumping ya gonna turn my liver upside down.” Dustin Henderson is a fact-finding machine. He gets on his H.A.M radio and collects info from whoever will talk to him. So the nickname Peanut is born. Rather than make a big deal, I roll with it hoping it would run its course. Pipe Dreams!

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Much to my surprise after weeks of class my Pretty Boy drag asses into my Civics class with a notebook and a pack of Marlboro Reds in his vest pocket. Bueller or whatever teach's name is yells, “Munson, are you working on a fourth round of senior year? They are going to age your sorry ass out at 21. Keep skipping class. Makes my life easier.” Bueller has the most animation and life I've seen yet! Brown eyed boy gave him the double eagle salute and blew the squids a big juicy kiss. Ole blow ya' for dope gags! I see the faint ghost of hurt move across his face.

"Hey, Squid Prissy. I mean Chrissy. Gave any head lately? I may have something for ya!” I asked loudly. Her face was so red it looked like she was going to die. "Oh, honey! My mouth is a lot to deal with. You! Really don't want to mouth battle me." I turn to the object of my filthy, wet dreams. "Munson, meet me by Silver after school. I have a proposition for you. Little girls here do NOT know how to handle a BIG boy like you! It's KIND of you not to embarrass these pencil-dicks with your maturity and very overwhelming body. Boys like them hope to grow up to have equipment half as impressive as you have. But, the squids don't wanna be chokin' on them the way they choke on you......or would choke on you!” I look over at a smirking mask on Pretty Boy's face. So self-assured. Must be Mack Packin! Thank you, Lawd!

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“Peanut”, Rob runs to my locker as I shove shit into it. I'm so ready to jet. “Hey, Buck. What's up, honey?” I look at her Cheshire Cat smile. “Holy fuck farts! What now?” My head shakes awestruck with the amount of gossip a new girl and spring break gets in this piss-ant town. “Babe, the squids are talking up Munson's junk. I mean to fantastical proportions. Gag! But anyhoo, three of them have already fessed up to sucking him off for dope. I guess Jerk-off Jason's revolving door of victims must have traded head for weed at his last party. The hilarious part is she tongued him all in the mouth after Ed blew his load in her mouth.” Robin is laughing so hard she can hardly speak. “Shit-fire Buck, let's get outta here. Eddie is probably strokin' out. He's supposed to be waitin' on me at Silver.” I jog out of the school with Rob and her not-so-secret, secret girlfriend Vick.

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“Get in, let's go for a ride.” My smile must look dangerous. Eddie is leery. “Hey, you can drive, but you know, I-will-use-violence.” My warning helps him decide to jump in the passenger seat. The air in this hellscape is getting chilly at night. “I hate fuckin cold weather! Hate it with a purple passion! I know I'm ridiculous, but I'm used to winter at home lasting between 6 to 8 weeks. Lows barely in the 30's at night.” Eddie laughs. “Damn, girlfriend you are gonna HATE! life in about a month. This shit town will be covered in frozen Satan's tears. Miserable shit! These slick tires are going to be deadly on snow and ice.” Ed pats my baby's dashboard.

Studdly gives me directions to Lover's Lake. Once we get out of the town proper I get out a doob rolled in pink cherry paper. “You wanna light it? May have to thump it. I roll 'em tight 'cause they roll around in my console.” Those beautiful eyes are wide for me. “Babydoll, I been smokin' and drivin' since I was 14 years old. Ya know my daddy supplemented his peanut crop with hairy scary. We been filching his bud for years. My mama woulda cut his dick off if she knew. So, I'm cool!” I crack up at the thought of my little mama chasin' Icky around the house with a butcher's knife.

Lover's Lake is a lovely place to sit and enjoy the quiet. We park in the stone lot. “Is this where you bring chicks to romance them?” I tease him. “But seriously?” My eyes lock on his. “That's funny! All my action comes from my pushing. I really haven't dated a lot. I'm a trailer trash metalhead, chicks aren't standing in line for a piece of me.” His self-deprecating laugh hurts my feelings. “Fuck that shit! I didn't live in a trailer but I was white trash just the same. I understand. I had to fight my way through my little school system until my daddy stumbled into a fortune by way of an improperly installed overhead light, at a famous Mart, a broken neck, and a lawsuit. His hoe drug him here and as punishment for tellin' my mama to fuck off here I am.” My story is much like Eddie's. Poor children are suffering, growing up, and repeating the cycle.

“When I came here I decided to be the best version of me! And here she is!” I giggle. “As far as I'm concerned you are the besttttt version of yourself, pretty baby!” My smile may look a little creepy. He looks leery. “Sorry, I come on strong sometimes. Just ignore the dirty talk. It's a habit and keeps people from asking questions.” My explanation gets a knowing nod from Ed. “Yeah, I get it. Sweetie, crazy Eddie “The Freak” Munson, keeps people at arm's length. Creates hell as far as bullying, but I've survived thus far. If that fucker in Civics will get outta my asshole I will be out this hellhole come May!” His expression is resigned and determined.

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We smoke Ed's product and I tell him all kinds of crazy stories about my life pre-richie rich. “...Then I begged for a Rambo knife because the neighbor boys got one for Christmas. My mama got sick of hearing my shit and got me one. Oh, the fun! Fishing line, hooks, matches, a compass, tp, matches, and did I mention matches?” He hollers a sharp laugh out. “We made a fort out in the middle of my family's fallow fields covered in sagebrush. We had a running spring right next to the limbs we piled up for our fire ring. No worries right?” I ask. My eyes laser focus on Mr Sexy. “Sounds like a perfect day to an 11-year-old tomboy who has to prove herself as hard as any boy.”

The grin on Eddie's face is priceless. He is twitchin' with anticipation “Finish your story! I know but you have to tell it! Swear to god I'll die!” My head shakes as I finish. “Ok wild-man, we started the fire and pretended to go hunt for food. I hear one of my sisters yell fire. By the time we get to the fort, the fire has spread a lot! LOT-LOT! The boys ran and we did too. Before climbing the fence back into the yards we spit swore to tell about the fire, but NEVER, EVER, EVER EVEN TO THE DEATH, tell we started it. Fire trucks came from all over our county. The brush fire burned off almost 100 acres of sage.” I hid a smirk. Ed's eyes held a twinkle.

“So obviously you are telling me without the threat of death…” He snickered. “Yep, the neighbor boys’ dad spied ‘em out immediately. Something to do with him being a Green Beret in Vietnam.” I shrug. “So the beating in their dirt-covered front yard was the cue that I might as well fess up, too. My daddy went over and stopped their daddy from almost beating the oldest one to death.” I shook my head at the memory both hilarious and sad at the same time. “I went over to their daddy and said, “Mr Baker, I started the fire to cook any wharf rats or coons they caught for our supper.”

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“The booming laugh that came out of the Grizzly Adams-sized military man rang loudly for a mile down our rutted, dusty, dirt road. He looked down at his boys and said, “If you were as brave as Miss Ma'am here I wouldn't had to beat the shit outcha. You go cut the grass and you go run the Weed Eater. He ordered. Mr Baker patted my head and said, "You got bigger balls than my boys, young lady well done. He eyeballed my daddy like you better not whip those girls man.” I laughed. “During the summer the older one decided he liked tits. Tried to touch my little puffy nipples on the bus first of the school year. I shut it down! He called me a bitch. I yelled loud enough for the entire bus to hear. ‘At least my own, daddy didn't tell me that a girl has more balls than I do!! How embarrassing! DAVID!”

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I finished my story by telling him about the newspaper and TV news filming the brush fire and firefighting. Even interviewed our folks. Hot Alabama sun. Or poorly discarded cigarette butts. It was butts alright! Our wild asses! At eighth grade graduation, it's a Southern thing, someone put my pic on top of a Firestarter movie poster and put it up on the projector. The snickering came and I started clapping and whistling. Hell, my people weren't there, I could give a fuck. Needless to say, I have been hard to handle my whole life!” I warn.

Eddie is flopping around on the passenger side of Silver dying. “Hahahahaha! Holy Fuck! Hawkins High Is so not ready for Alabama Peanut! You are gonna mix shit up this year. Makes me happy I didn't pass the last two times.” He held his stomach and tried to inhale some green. I look at him and it strikes me how incredibly gorgeous he is, laughing, smiling, joyful, face alight, and these shining, deep dimples highlight his million-watt smile. “You are stunning when you laugh like that Eddie Munson! Anyone who can not see it is a fuckin’ idiot who needs some Coke bottle glasses and a trip to the nuthouse. Just beautiful!” My words turn his face a rosy shade of deep pink. He's taken aback and speechless.

“Dddddon't say that kind of stuff Alabama! I fall into obsession at the mere suggestion of a glance, much less a compliment.” Ed stutters looking at the ground. “Edward? Is it? Edward Munson, I got more than compliments for you! Those sloppy head jobs for smoke are nothing compared to what I have in mind. Do you like shocking people? Oh baby boy, let the scandal begin! Want to make your last senior year live on in infamy? Ok, you fine motherfucker! I'm your girl! Scandal, shock, and mayhem are my favorite pastimes.” I move my body across the console to put my lips under his ear. "These inbred, bullying, stuck in hell fucks, have no idea! Ready to ride the lightning? Hahaha! I love Metallica!” I admit I'm a total dork!

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Well, I have to admit Hawkins Hell High isn't quite as bad as I expected. The few bangers here are all a part of the larger band of misfits. I know how to be a chameleon in these streets. Be a white trash, poor, dirty, tomboy from a hardscrabble dirt road, you learn to morph into whatever blends in. The beauty here is I blend in as ME! DA' FUX?! Who'da thunk it.

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Hey besties! So I've laid the groundwork. Ms Fast-Ass Peanut is on the scent hard. Let's hope she don't ball-bust Eddie and run him off. He has gotta have a little push maybe? This goes from M.A.S.H to Hustler in thirty seconds flat. Friends and enemies dust-up.

@madelynraemunson @abellmunsonmovie @tlclick73 @those-sea-green-eyes @effy666 @arthurcerverogf @geminiflanagansgirl @darydixonswhore @iloveyou987123 @kaymd0313

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 3 months

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New Series:

HELLSCAPE INDIANA

***The collage above is from Pinterest w/out no credit to the creator. If you made this lmk, I'd love to give you credit for this! Great Art!!

TEASER-

Eddie's 3rd senior year is looking like it's going to be mortal hell until a brand new, off-the-lot, shiny, silver IROC Z28 squeals into Hawkins' student lot. Out steps a pair of black stilettos with a pair of white ruffled babydoll-socked feet in them. Jesus, Hawkin's ain't ready for the tornado headed to tear shit up. Hair teased to the heavens and a mouth that would shame the devil, a whirlwind of piss and vinegar has come to torment and tease all of Hawkins but her target sweet, and scary Eddie's chaos is no match for the irreverent badass who just barrelled into Hawkins. Eddie baby, you better be ready!!!!

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 4 months

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Umm, I KNOW RIGHT! JEEZ, they just out here draggin assin' heavy marble perfection all over the world. While we are stupified over the beauty and sensuality of his form!!

Danny girls are each other's spirit sisters!!

do you think its expensive for greta van fleet to have that marble statue of adonis on loan from the met for that long? like i know they need a drummer but

#gvf #greta van fleet #danny wagner #jake kiszka #thats what all their ticket sales go towards #sam kiszka #josh kiszka

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what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama · 4 months

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Money Talks

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 1,843

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Little bit of fluff, angst, swearing, degradation, dom/cocky Jake, allusions to being paid for sex work, daddy kink, rich/sugar daddy Jake, sir Jake, penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, minor choking. As always, please let me know if I missed anything!

Partially inspired by this little moment from bourbon and beyond 🫠

They say money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy silence.

The sun peeking through the window was every so slightly blinding as your eyes squinted open. Rolling over, you couldn’t help but smile at his soft features and the little snores that escaped his mouth. You don’t know how, but Jake had to be the world’s heaviest sleeper. You recall one morning where you’d gotten up to make breakfast but not without setting off the smoke alarm. Needless to say, you were extremely confused when he didn’t come downstairs to investigate the loud commotion. There he laid, unmoving and still knocked out in bed like nothing had happened.

You remained there in bed with him for a bit longer, taking in every ounce of the warmth his body was radiating. But eventually, your bladder was screaming at you to get up. After doing your business, you got ready for the day. Though you had no plans, it was a rare day where both of you didn’t have any work commitments and you wanted nothing more than to spend the afternoon with Jake doing whatever your hearts desired.

Not wanting to disturb the sleeping beauty just yet, you headed downstairs to make breakfast, sans smoke alarm this time. You kept yourself busy, tidying up the house a bit and catching up on some chores before you started feeling a bit stir crazy. The clock on the wall read 12:19pm and you knew if there was any chance of doing anything with Jake today, you were going to have to quite literally drag him out of bed.

Heading back upstairs, you found your lover still snuggled under the covers, sleeping the day away. “Jake.” You called out. Nothing. “Jake.” You said a bit louder this time, dragging out his name. Still nothing. Shaking your head, you walked over to the bed before pushing him over on his back, climbing on the bed and straddling him. Leaning down, you grabbed his face and placed a soft kiss to his lips. “Jakey, time to wake up baby.” You whispered in his ear.

That seemed to finally do the trick as you felt his hands escape from underneath the covers, gently resting on your hips. His eyes peeked open, taking in the sight of you in front of him. “And to what do I owe the pleasure m’lady?” He rasped out. The way his morning voice sounded like pure sex sent shivers straight to your core.

“Well, we both have the day off and I was thinking we could do something fun like take a stroll downtown? I think that new bakery on fifth finally opened! Then maybe we could go-”

You paused for a moment when Jake suddenly shifted up in bed and reached over to grab his wallet from the bedside table. Curiously, you watched as he pulled a fresh $100 bill from the worn leather and casually dropped in the space between your two bodies.

You were extremely confused and just assumed he was looking for something in his wallet. Shaking your head, you continued to speak, sharing possible activities to fill what was left of the afternoon. Oddly enough, for every new idea you mentioned, he seemed to pull out another bill.

Does he normally have this much cash on him?

“Jake, what are you doing? Why are you pulling money out of your wallet?” You finally asked.

“Babe, I love you to death, but the only thing I’m interested in doing today is enjoying some peace and quiet.” He quipped.

“Oh, so what? This is your way to shut me up? Bribery?” You gasped, clutching your chest in faux hurt and devastation.

His eyes twinkled with curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite pick up on. “Seems to be that way, I suppose. Would you say this amounts to be worth your time? Is it too much? Or has your rate gone up?” He spoke lowly, glancing down at the pile of money in between you.

“I think you should toss a few more in there just to be safe. Though I’m sure we can always make a deal to work out any discrepancies.”

Your jaw dropped slightly as he flipped his wallet over completely, opening it and letting more cash fall out. There had to be at least two or three thousand dollars in front of you. Your mouth hung open in complete shock with a slight grin as you looked back at the smirk Jake was wearing. Of course you knew that being a rockstar had its perks, especially financially, but Jake wasn’t the type to go around flaunting anything. But the thought of him (literally) throwing his money at you ignited a flame you never knew existed.

He seemed to notice the switch in you as he suddenly moved, or rather pushed you off his lap while throwing the covers off himself. The movement of the covers sent the cash flying all over the bed and you sat up on your elbows as Jake towered over you.

“So, you were sayi-” He didn’t even have time to finish his sentence as you reached up to grab his face, pulling him down on top of you. The kiss was feverish and hungry and you found yourself subconsciously moving your hips up, trying to get even the slightest bit of relief. He helped you shimmy out of your jeans before slipping your top over your head.

Jake sat up and you realized just how quickly the roles had been reversed from the position you were in not even two minutes prior. His eyes darkened at the sight in front of him. There, you laid on a pile of his money in just your bra and panties. From Jake’s perspective, it was something straight out of a wet dream, except this time, it was real.

Leaning back down, he gave his full attention to leaving a trail of dark love bites from your neck all the way down to your hip. You couldn’t help but wrap your hands in his hair for leverage, humming out from the pure bliss his touch left you with. He toyed with the band of your panties for a moment, biting at the elastic before letting it snap back against your skin. You gasped out at the slight sting that quickly faded into pleasure.

He chuckled before diverting his focus back to your folds that were now slick with desire. His fingers ghosted over your sensitive nerves and your hips bucked forward in response. “Jake please.” You begged, not even caring how desperate you were at the moment. “I’ll get you there, just be patient, hm?” He offered, softly nibbling at your earlobe.

He started out easy with just one finger, but it wasn’t long before he added a second, and then a third. His fingers pumped in and out of you tirelessly and you couldn’t help but clench around him tightly everytime his fingers curled inside you. He very quickly found the one spot that sent your eyes rolling to the back of your head, a plethora of pornographic sounds leaving your body. His thumb added pressure to your clit and you swore you saw stars. “You feel like velvet, so soft. It’s like this pretty pink pussy was made just for me.” He hotly whispered in your ear.

“D-Don’t stop Jake. Gonna c-cum.” The words were barely coherent as they left your mouth but he understood just fine as he continued to work his fingers into you while still circling your bundle of nerves. You were right there but just before you reached the euphoric state, his fingers retreated and you whined out from the orgasm you were just robbed of.

“Jake, what the hell?” You breathed out. He brought his fingers up to your lips and you wrapped your mouth around them, cleaning off the juices coating them. Just when you thought he was about to pull his fingers back, he pushed them back further until they touched the back of your throat, making you gag around them.

“Now I thought we had an agreement here. All this compensation and you’re still yapping. Not a very good deal if you ask me.” He taunted, finally drawing his fingers back and letting you catch your breath.

“Fuck, I- I’m sorry Jak-“

“Ah ah. Try again.” He interrupted.

You smirked slightly before responding. “I’m sorry Daddy. I’ll be good, I promise. Please, just fuck me.” You pleaded with a sultry tone.

His eyes darkened at the unexpected name and you swore you heard him quietly moan. You knew he liked being called sir, but decided he fit the sugar daddy role a little better right now. Quickly slipping off the linen pajama pants he still wore, he nestled his knee in between your knees. He teased his hard cock a few times, making you more frustrated by the second. “Plea-”

Before you could even finish, he snapped his hips against yours without warning, bottoming out fully. You cried out, more out of shock than pain and his eyes searched yours to wait for confirmation to continue. “Fuck, keep going.” You panted.

“Yeah? You like being fucked on my money? Just a groupie after my cash? That’s all you are aren’t you? Pathetic fucking gold digger.”

You and Jake both knew that his money was not a factor in your relationship, but something about the way he was speaking to you like this turned you on more than you could explain, and he could tell by the way you subconsciously clenched around his dick.

His hand moved up to your neck before resting around your throat as he continued to rock his hips into you. The slight restricted blood flow to your brain mixed with the intense pleasure he was giving you was an indescribable feeling. Leaning forward, his hot breath whispered filthy insults in your ear. You were too far gone to comprehend everything he was saying but somehow still managed to pick up on words like “whore” and “slut,” which only fueled your impending orgasm. Jake shifted a bit, pushing both of your legs up against your chest. Your breath hitched as the new angle allowed him to hit a spot deeper than before. Digging your nails in his back, all you could mutter out was a mix of “Jake” and “fuck” as you neared your release.

“C’mon, give it to me. Let me have it.” His demanding tone seemed to be the final thing you needed before your orgasm violently overtook you. Jake continued rocking inside you until you felt him reach his release as well. The two of you stayed there for a moment to come down from your highs. After a moment, he slowly pulled out and rested up on his arms, just barely hovering above you, the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

He reached up to grab a few of the bills by your head before bringing it back between the two of you, casually slipping them underneath your bra strap.

“Now, what is it you were saying earlier?”

✶ ✶ ✶

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@jannysarcher @bimbokiszka @stardustcatcher

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