Stranger Things X Male Reader - Tumblr Posts

loved the first fanfic! it was delicious!

so um could i request jonathan byers with dacryphilia, praise, maybe even perverted jonathan?

like it's jonathans first time bottoming and he's kind of scared, but he's fantasized about it for a very long time so he's very eager and obedient.

you don't have to write it, of course! whatever you're comfortable with, dude.

take care!

Hey, anon. I went kind of overboard with the ‘pervert Jonathan’ part, because this boy just screams ‘secret pervert’ to me. I hope it’s alright. This one is a lot more light-hearted and a lot less poetic than Rebirth.

Also. I promised myself that requests wouldn’t be as long as my personal works but. Well. Oops.

Vice.

Jonathan’s first time does not go the way he plans it. In fact, it goes a lot better.

※ Sub Bottom Jonathan/Dom Top Male Reader

※ 12,444 words.

※ Anonymous request.

※ Content & warnings: First time bottoming. Dacryphilia. Size difference/Size queen. D/s dynamics. Praise kink. Authority kink. Pervert Jonathan. Hardcore first time. Overstimulation. Un-beta’d.

※ Both characters are 18 or older.

※ Work available only on Tumblr and under ArchiveOfOurOwn pseud of the same name (DecadentWorld). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok videos.

Jonathan’s little secret is at all times kept under lock and key. Several locks, actually. And a combination lock with no less than five numbers for good measure.

There’s this box hidden within his closet, see, which is quite sizable, though it is very discreet and easy to hide in the deepest part of his closet, behind his chest of drawers. It’s black; he knows it’s originally intended as a cash safe, or he supposes, since he didn’t actually buy it. He found it. He swears that’s the word that describes it best: ‘found’ it. What could an open cash safe have been doing just lying around in the junkyard otherwise? He did not steal it. It was open, it was empty, it was happenstance that he needed something to store his ever-growing collection of his more personal things and there was an abandoned cash safe in the junkyard. Simple.

Now, what’s inside this box nowadays? Only he knows as of yet. It’s not something he could just be saying outloud. There are already consequences just for people like Jonathan to simply show his true face in Hawkins, but if anyone unsafe found what he keeps in the box? He would be skinned alive. He would be castrated, for sure.

Which is why he always makes absolutely sure to close it, lock it, and hide it away after he finishes making use of the… erm. Objects inside.

He always does. He never forgets.

After withdrawing from one of the most intense, toe-curling make-out sessions with his boyfriend —his boyfriend. It makes him so fucking giggly to think of that word— as he greeted you into his house, a surprise visit from you, he leads you closer to his bed with a shy hand on yours.

“Just get comfortable,” he tells you. “I’m gonna bring in something to eat.”

“Sure, gorgeous.”

The mental haze he gets after the slight praise is probably one of the reasons why he gets sloppy today.

He walks to the kitchen with a spring in his step. He’s home alone for the moment, something so rare it’s a golden opportunity he won’t waste. God. He feels so bubbly when he’s with you. He opens the fridge as he thinks of this. Jonathan’s never felt like this, like he could turn to mush just by being next to you, like he could start giggling at any given moment just because you talk to him with a voice that rumbles throughout his body, like he could swoon when you press your palm against the back of his head, because he feels like you could engulf him wholly. His break-up with Nancy led him to several realizations, one of which —and he’s sorry, Nancy, but it has to be said— is the one where he found he’s a lot more attracted to men than to women. By, like. A lot. Nancy knew about his bisexuality before, but never commented on it. He doesn’t think she did (or didn’t, rather) out of maliciousness, or awkwardness, or anything like that. Jonathan knows there was just no possible situation in which the topic could be talked about casually, so why bother. He’s absolutely not mad or anything like that. Plus, there’s no point in discussing something like that when they were in a relationship; for no reason would he think about other men, or women, while he had a girlfriend. These thoughts lead to other similar ones as he’s getting some snacks ready in small plastic bowls. He feels kind of bad for not being more open with his family. With Will, especially. He knows the euphoria, the feeling of safeness that Will would get if he knew there was an older queer figure in his life. Sure, Will is not out, but it’s sort of an open secret now. But Jonathan is not that brave. He knows his mom has the tiniest suspicion of Jonathan being at least a little bit queer, what with you coming over more often than not. For college assignments, of course. And everything leads back to you. He bites his lip with a smile on his face as he finishes pouring the contents of a packet into one of the little bowls. Everything about you has him crazy. It’s the fact that you tower over him but still hold him in your arms like he’s delicate, fragile. It’s how you still haven’t made any sexual advances towards him, because you know he’s a virgin in that aspect, and because he told you how very nervous the thought made him. But Jonathan knows you sense something more, and how very right you are without realizing it, that he might be sort of terrified, yet it’s the only thing he can think about these days. It’s even more difficult to focus on anything else when he can only think about you taking him in your big hands, making him —everything about him— look small. Can’t help getting hard in unfortunate situations sometimes, can’t choose which fantasy is best: the one where you take your time with him, treating him gently… or the one where you rip his virginity away, so intensely that he’s crying in the end. He has to calm down before he gets hard. Again. Because he’s already taken the edge off, had an orgasm earlier today. Made use of some of the objects in his—

Wait.

WAIT.

He sprints towards his room leaving the bowls abandoned on the kitchen counter. And there you are.

On his bed. Not having moved at all, of course. How could you? His bed is quite comfy.

You’re sitting on his bed. Looking at the open closet some feet from you. With a scandalized, but pleased expression.

Looking at the open safe on the closet floor.

Jonathan throws himself in front of the closet and closes the door with such force it resounds across his bedroom.

“How much did you see?!”

You look at him, amusedly, pleasantly surprised at this new version of Jonathan you’re seeing. “Um… enough?”

Jonathan covers his burning face and groans. It’s a long and muffled noise. “Oh my Goood,” he mumbles behind his hands.

You can’t help but chuckle a little bit. “Babe… why are you so shaken about this?”

“It’s… you weren’t supposed to see.” Jonathan peeks at you from between his fingers. “It’s so fucking embarrassing.”

“Uh…” You understand where he’s coming from, but, honestly, if he thinks this is the end of the world then he’s sorely mistaken. “It’s… not, really. It’s actually kind of… hot.”

Jonathan lowers his hands so quickly he accidentally slaps the closet door behind him. He gapes at you, so mortified he could melt to the floor. “Wh-What— You don’t— You’re not mad?”

Now you’re frowning in confusion. “Why would I be mad?”

“Well… I kind of… told you I’ve never…” You never thought he could get any more red until now. “And I still… have these things…”

You give him a sort of wolfish smile. He knows you’re trouble when you stand up, slowly walk the few steps to him, and suddenly you’re towering over him.

He gulps. He’s so terrified and excited about what you’re going to say, to do.

You lower a hand to the left side of his waist. He jumps a little bit. “It is hot, Jonathan. Now, feel free to push me off if I’m out of line, but I’m suddenly really, really curious to see more of that.”

He makes a small shrill you find adorable. “Uh— you want to s— how— what did you see, exactly?”

“Well, I saw… some nice-looking ropes.” Jonathan grumbles with embarrassment. “Saw something that looks like…” You leave his waist for a second to use both index fingers to draw something in the air that vaguely resembles a spade. He looks like a fish out of water. “I spotted a shape that looks a lot like something I have, too… if you’d be interesting in comparing.” Jonathan is almost hyperventilating at this point. “But, I think the most interesting one… it was barely peeking, but… the corner of something that I know, Jonathan, I know, is a photo?”

He can’t take it. He hides his face in your chest and whines so loudly it can barely be muffled. You cackle. It’s not a mean sound. You just can’t believe how agitated he’s being about something so normal. So you reassure him.

“It’s normal, Jonathan. It just means you have a healthy way of having fun on your own.”

He grumbles some more. He peeks at you from his spot on your chest. “You think?”

“Yep. And I would absolutely not mind knowing more about it. About your… stash.”

That at least pulls a giggle out of him. “You say it like I’m dealing.” He withdraws.

You caress his chin with a smile. “I am. I would pay only the highest price for this very fine selection.”

Jonathan bites his lip, a small smile in his face. You make him feel so safe, no judgement ever bleeding from your words. “You want to see it?”

You nod, almost enthusiastically, and he laughs. You step back some, giving him some space to open the closet door behind him. He does, and crouches down to retrieve it. Before pulling it out completely, he hesitates. “Um…”

“Yeah?”, you encourage him.

“It’s… if that’s all you saw, then… you didn’t even see half of it?” He says the last part more hushed, like he’s so embarrassed of himself he can’t even speak.

“Oh.” And you sound even more excited now. “Well. You’ll just have to show me all of it, right?”

Jonathan bites his lip and giggles nervously. He pulls the black safe out of his closet and onto the floor of his room.

You give him a muffled laugh. He was right. You didn’t even see half of what he’s got. You skim over the contents, before saying: “Wanna bring this up to the bed so I can see it better?”

He nods. With a strong blush on his face, Jonathan lifts the open box and leaves it on his bed.

The moment of truth is here. You both sit on the mattress, the open safe between you two, its contents perfectly visible. Jonathan is sort of hunched over himself with a hand on his mouth, looking so embarrassed you find it endearing.

You feast on all the objects inside the safe. There’s the things you’ve already seen: red ropes, a metal buttplug, a black silicone dildo, and yes, there are pictures too. Pictures of himself with those ropes around him and nothing more, photographs of parts of his body, a lot more artistic than actually sexual in nature. Close-ups of Jonathan’s cum on the wooden floor. But apart from that, there’s also skin mags. Pocket-sized ones. They’re all gay skin mags. There are also a lot more toys and sexual objects: nipple clamps, anal beads, a small bullet-shaped vibrator, a cock ring, a flogger, a chest harness, a collar with a D ring and matching cuffs for the wrists and ankles —you have to catch your breath at that one. An unlabeled cassette. That one picks your interest a lot. You don’t see any fleshlights or VHS’s. Probably didn’t fit in the safe with how much stuff there is already. Lastly, you see two different tubes of lubricant: a neutral one, and a cherry-flavored one; and a handful of packets of condoms.

His collection is impressive. It’s almost like he collects these things, like he treasures them, keeps them stored away safely only for his eyes and body to feast on whenever he has the time. All in all, you get a rush of something that feels like awe, and lust at the same time.

You finally look at him. He is so red behind his hands, and he’s also shaking a little bit, like he’s so nervous to hear what you have to say about all this.

“Oh, babe. Look at me.” Jonathan complies, looking at you from the spaces between his fingers. “This? This is amazing. Like, wow. You have so much stuff.” You give him a little smirk, about to test the waters. “Have you used all of them already?”

At that, Jonathan can only cover his face completely, muffled laughs hysterical from how awkward he feels, and throws himself back on the bed. At least he’s not outright rejecting you.

A little nod catches your attention.

“That’s so hot, baby.” You softly grab around the edges of the safe and turn it around a bit to see better. Jonathan lowers his hands down to his mouth to be able to see you when he feels the jostle on the bed. “Can you tell me what… this one is?” You point at the cassette.

“Oh my God.” Jonathan looks like he’s biting his nails. He decides to sit up instead. He takes the cassette in his trembling hands and holds it up, the side you saw before facing you and the other one facing Jonathan. “Um…”

“If you want, obviously.”

“U-Um…” He giggles nervously a bit more. That’s good. He’s not actually afraid or uncomfortable, just shy. “It’s… like a narration. The narrator says things that are supposed to… make you feel things.”

It’s so vague, since he’s still pretty mortified about showing you all this, but you think you understand. “Okay. Kind of like… hypnosis?”

“Well… yeah, but not really in the traditional sense.” Jonathan fiddles with the cassette. “It’s just relaxing, but also…” His renewed blush tells you everything you need to know.

“That’s so interesting.” You lean over to examine the small rectangle better, and suddenly spot some handwritten text on the back. “Oh. What does it say?”

Jonathan shrieks. He didn’t mean for you to see that. His hand just accidentally moved until the cassette was no longer parallel to you. “Uhhh…” But, he decides to brave through, because this entire situation is doing something to him. “But… but don’t make fun of me. Please.”

“Of course not!”, you’re quick to say. “Why would I?”

Jonathan bites his lower lip. “Well…” He fidgets a bit, then shakily hands you the cassette over.

You give him a reassuring little smile as you accept the tape. You turn it around. And.

Ah.

Jonathan is full of surprises, isn’t he.

Your eyes go hazy with lust as you read the handwritten two words on the white sticker: Good Boy. You understand a bit better now. You can totally picture what it is: the deep masculine voice of a male narrator giving the listener instructions on what to do, how to touch themselves, what a good boy they’re being for obeying. So Jonathan has the biggest praise kink ever. No big deal. Not at all. Except. It’s all you’ll be able to think about for the rest of your life.

You can’t help yourself. Your hand reaches the back of his head and you give your boyfriend a steamy kiss, right over the open safe, feeling him tremble and whine against you. He opens his mouth in time for you to slip your tongue in and start a sensual caress over his own. Jonathan grabs at your clothes in desperation, squirming in his place on the bed like he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

You withdraw and look at him. Not only is he sporting the most gorgeous blush ever, but there’s a hint of lust there now, too.

“That’s so fucking hot, Jon. You like being a good boy?”

He suddenly moans against your lips. But then seems to sober up and covers his mouth, ashamed.

You take his hand into yours and move it aside with a little bit of resistance. “None of that, sweetness. Let me hear you.”

He does this little whine and instead lifts his other hand over his mouth, not entirely covering it, just appearing to be chewing on his nails. Even then, he’s gives you a small shaky smile as he shakes his head in shy denial.

“No?” You push only enough to give him a thrill, never to spook him. Your hand that was holding his releases him and goes under his chin. Jonathan puts both hands on his lap as he timidly looks up at you. “I hope I’m not overstepping here, but…”

“N-No, no, you’re not.” Jonathan puts his left hand on the one you have under his chin. “I’m just… this is just kinda new to me.”

You grin at him. “Sweetheart.” You lean in to give him a small peck on the lips. Even that seems to leave him breathless. “I was just saying that… it’d be so hot if you told me more about some of these things. Hm? What do you say?”

He releases a heavy breath that borders on being a moan. He bites his lip, but nods in the end. You release his face and he runs two delicate hands across his hair.

Right when he’s about to speak up, there’s a loud thud coming from the front door of the house.

Jonathan yelps and jumps almost a foot in the air. He immediately closes the lid of the safe box. You’re both frozen in place, you waiting to see if any of his relatives are going to walk in through the front door, and he frozen from fear.

A few more seconds pass, and nothing else happens. Jonathan shakily gets up from the bed, slowly walks to his bedroom door and opens it just a bit. His eyes land on the front door.

The tips of something he knows is newspaper peek from under the slit of the door.

He closes his door with a relieved sigh. “Oh my God. It was just the newspaper delivery. I thought it was going to be my mom.” He runs his hands through his hair with a hysterical giggle.

You laugh too. “Damn. Scared the hell out of me.”

“Me too.”

It seems like this cut off the moment you were having. Jonathan stands awkwardly at the door for some seconds. Then decides to go near the bed again, but doesn’t sit down.

“Um… I’m, like, totally spooked out right now.” But he says it like he’s apologetic about it. Like he doesn’t want this to stop.

You get up with an eager grin. He gives you that nervous little smile, looking at you from under his lashes. “I thought of something right now. That is, if you want, of course.” He nods as he keeps listening. “I thought that maybe… you can show me all of this,” and your hand points in the direction of the closed safe on the bed. “…uninterrupted. As much as you want… at mine?”

He makes a small embarrassed grunt. He covers his mouth to muffle a small giggle. “At your house?”, he asks, so demurely you want to eat him up.

“Yeah. If, of course, that’s okay with you.”

Jonathan doesn’t answer you right away, still looking like he’s gonna vibrate out of his skin. He walks the few steps towards the bed, opens the lid of the safe, and takes something small out of it. Slowly. Nervously.

“Ummm…” He shows you what it is. He speaks almost in a whisper. “Are we… going to need one of these?”

A condom.

Your eyes go half-lidded. The idea that he possibly wants to fuck, even though you haven’t gone past heavy kissing, is exhilarating. You have to collect yourself, since you don’t mean to drive home with an erection.

“Jonathan…” You crowd him against the wall next to his bedroom door. He drops the packet with a breathless moan. You kiss him long and heavy, feeling him squirm against you, feeling his rising heat. You withdraw and give him an intense look. “If you want.”

He moans against your neck. He breathes rapidly against it, trying to calm himself down, and then nods against your skin.

You run your fingers through his hair, on the back of his head. Then you softly grip those same locks to lift his head and have him look at you. “Good.”

It’s so close, a hair’s width kind of close to saying ‘good boy’, but you’re going to save that for later. Even now, he melts against your grip at that single word. Now he puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to focus better. “Okay, but, like… can you just… go and I’ll meet you there. In 20, maybe? I’ll have to call mom first and make up an excuse.”

You chuckle. “Sure.”

Jonathan comes out of the shower fifteen minutes later. He’s still the only person in the house, feeling sure that it wouldn’t be at least another hour until anyone arrived, but it was still the better idea to go to yours.

As he goes back into his room and retrieves the closed safe —this time having hid it behind his set of drawers where he always leaves it, he’s not making that mistake again— he stops when he has it in his hand. A wicked idea comes into his mind. He blushes as he begins unlocking the box.

You open your front door at the twenty minute mark, just as Jonathan said. There he is, all nervous smiles and fidgety hands, even though he clearly hopes it’s subtle. He has the safe box clutched in his right hand.

“Hey,” you greet him as you give him way into your home.

“Hi.” Jonathan tucks his chin into his chest. He’s just so cute to you.

As soon as you close the door, he’s onto you. You’re pleasantly surprised when he kisses you first now. You lean back against the door and hold the sides of his head in your hands. These same hands caress his hair. He melts into you within the kiss.

You pull back and point at the safe in his hand with a wolfish smile. “That looks heavy. Let me give you a hand?”

Jonathan does this little sound that tells you he’s embarrassed, but hands you the box over. He’s putting a lot of trust into you by letting you handle the most private part of his life, so you’re not going to disappoint him.

You take his hand with your free one, which makes him look like he’s melting with shyness, even though you have a literal safe full of his sex toys in your other hand, and guide him towards your room.

The moment you open the door, it seems like it dawns on Jonathan that you’re going to do this. His hand starts trembling in your grip.

You lift his hand until it’s under your mouth. You press a soft kiss on his knuckles, and he looks at you with shaky giddiness. “Still want to do this?”

Jonathan all but latches himself onto you, holding onto your side as his answer. He looks at you from under his lashes, almost like he’s fawning at you. So he’s just nervous but still excited. It’s a small relief, and you will do anything to keep him from toeing that fine line into outright distress. You softly grab his chin and press a small kiss on his lips. After, you guide him further into your room with this same grip, something that makes him give you the softest of giggles.

Once you’re in front of the bed, you gesture for him to get comfortable. Jonathan sits on your bed as you deposit the locked safe onto the mattress with the utmost care.

“I have to… unlock it first,” Jonathan says. He bites his lip to stifle a grin, his face already reddening some.

“Of course!” You turn around and make a show of covering your eyes with your hands.

He outright laughs this time. You hear the tinkle of small keys —he probably had them in his pockets, you muse—, some clacking noises that indicate a padlock opening, then two, and then three, and then soft clicking of tiny number dials being turned. Finally, a louder clack. The lid is open.

“Okay, you can turn around, now,” Jonathan says, amusedly.

You do, and a familiar sight of the many toys and objects inside the box greets you. There’s the things you’ve already seen: the dildo, the mags. Everything else.

Except… maybe…?

You have a fleeting, silly thought. You think, and this is so funny: you think there’s, like… something missing?

Hah. As if. You leave this ridiculous thought aside.

“Okay. Okay!” You sit down on your bed, next to the open safe, similar to the way you were some twenty minutes ago in his house.

He briefly covers his mouth with his hands, like he’s muffling a giggle. Hah. He’s so shy about telling you more, that’s for sure. That’s the only reason why he’s so giddy. Of course. “What… What would you like to know?”

You give him a hungry smirk. “Well… just the basics. You know? Like, what’s your favorite one, or, what’s the one you use the most?”

Jonathan covers his face with his hands for a short time. He looks like he’s biting his nails with one hand when he uses the other one to point at the bullet vibrator. “I… I use this one the most.” And then his hand hovers over the black silicone dildo. “But… I like this one the most.”

You lick your lips. Some conclusions are being drawn with what he’s saying. He likes the vibration, the movement the vibrator causes, because it’s the closest he might have to an unassisted penetration, perhaps? And he loves using the dildo, but doesn’t use it as much, because…?

“Oh. And, if you like this one the most,” you start, while you point at the dildo. “…why don’t you use it as much?”

His lips do a funny thing, like he’s barely containing a hysterical laugh. He exhales, and it comes out like a whine. “Um…” Jonathan runs his hands through his hair, so nervous to say it outloud. “Because… I don’t always have time to prepare enough for it.”

Hm… “Prepare, as in…?”

“Well.” He does start giggling at this point, clapping his hands once like he can’t believe he’s about to say this. You chuckle in sympathy, even though you don’t fully understand. “It’s just… so big.”

Whoa.

What.

“It’s… I need a lot of time… and prep…” He muffles his giggles behind his hands. “‘Cause, otherwise, it just won’t… fit.”

You think your mouth is open, but you can’t know for sure. First of all, you are already feeling a bit hot under the collar. Just Jonathan telling you this has to count as foreplay. Second of all…

The dildo is… well. You estimate it might be five inches at max, four and a half in length if you’re being more realistic. One and a half inches in diameter.

It’s just… it’s so cute that he thinks…

“Wh… What?”, Jonathan says, a bit shaky. “What is… cute?”

Oh, shit. You said that last part outloud, didn’t you. You lean over and peck him on the lips. “Nothing, baby. Nevermind.”

He does a little humming noise, like he’s parsing your implications, but seems to drop it. He goes back to watching over the objects. He bites the tip of his index finger when your hand hovers over the stack of loose photographs. They’re not simple polaroids or anything like that: they’re professional, artistic, developed photographs. You think Jonathan is so brave because of that. The thought that he’d be careful enough to stay in the darkroom for as long as the photos needed to be developed, not letting anyone else in and catch him in the act, is simply so endearing.

“Don’t think I’ve said it before, but these are amazing.” Your fingers hover over the top picture, the most visible one: the one where he’s tied up with the red rope. His arms are free to be able to hold the camera in front of the mirror; his legs are tied up around the thigh and ankle, so that he wouldn’t have been able to stand up. His bare cock is semi-hard in front in the picture. You wonder if he had touched himself beforehand, or if the simple act of being tied-up turns him on. “So hot.”

Jonathan puts a lock of his hair behind his ear. “You can… hold them, if you want. To see them.”

“Yeah?” You do just that. You grab the one you’ve seen before, the one where there’s just a cum splatter on wooden floor. “Bet you had a lot of fun with this one, didn’t you?”

Jonathan just covers his mouth with his hands. He’s so abashed, but he trusts you so much, trusts you enough to show this part of him. “Y-Yeah.”

“Hm. Wait. Is this blood?” You point at the picture in your hand, where there are thick red splatters next to the white ones.

“Oh, no. Not at all. It’s candle wax.”

“Ooh. Candles?”

He nods, shyly. “I ran out of candles, but my subject in this series was to show how suggestible a person might be to some images in terms of eroticism. Like, you just thought this was blood, but it’s actually wax. And you obviously knew this is… well…” He gets giggly for a second because he’s pointing to the white splatters and you know he’s going to say ‘cum’. “…and you were right, but another person might just think both of them are melted candle wax in different colors.”

He’s such a genius.

“And also these ones,” Jonathan continues, pulling out the photographs you’ve seen before, of close-ups of his bare body where only vague shapes could be distinguished. “…these are from the same series.”

“This is… your arm?”, you guess.

He bites his lip and nods. “Yeah. It’s supposed to be vague enough for people to not fully understand what they’re looking at, first. They might just think it’s abstract photography, or maybe just a texture.”

You hum. “These are very good, Jon. You’re a prodigy.”

Your praise has its intended effect. He laughs, abashed, trying to cover his face but always coming back to you. “Thank you,” is his whispered gratitude.

You notice he’s subtly trying to cross his legs on the bed. Hm…

“You know,” you start, nonchalantly, as your hand hover above the cassette, something that has him almost on the edge of his seat. “…I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this one.”

God. The look on his face. Jonathan is so red he’s almost suffocating. Just you mentioning the tape leads him to shift on the bed, like he’s getting horny from the sole idea of you listening to it. “Y-Yeah?” It’s a muffled question; his hands are against his mouth.

“Yep,” you answer, so casually, like, yeah, of course I can’t stop thinking about you getting off to a man telling you how good you are. No big deal. “And, to be honest, it gave me quite a few ideas.”

Jonathan lowers his hands to his lap and fidgets with the rim of his sweater. His lips are pursed, like he wants to smile nervously. “Yeah?” It’s a whisper now.

“Yeah. Makes me think of how desperate you have to be to be someone’s good boy, enough to buy something like this.”

He exhales so loudly, so much so that it sounds like the beginning of a moan. At the same time, that simple fidgeting turns into him actually pulling the rim of his sweater down. To cover the small tenting of his pants.

You give him a heated glare to which he withers in lust. Reaching out, you lay a hand under his jaw. “Makes me think you wouldn’t need it anymore. Since you’ll have me here to tell you all those things.”

Jonathan looks wrecked. He closes his eyes, rubs his face against your hand, uses both of his to grab your wrist.

“What do you say?”, you ask, because you need verbal confirmation, even though he’s doing the equivalent of throwing himself at your feet by now.

He nods, so enthusiastically it pulls a chuckle out of you.

“Words, baby.”

He moans out loud. “Yes, Sir.”

He’s your ruin. You can’t do anything other than growl and bring him to your lips with a strong grip on his nape. He’s now moaning into the kiss, so filthily that you can feel it in your bones. You kiss him languidly, but it’s steamy; you all but force his jaw to open with your thumb on his chin and press your tongue into his mouth. The effect is immediate. He invites you in, gives you nervous caresses of his tongue that are wholly eclipsed by the dominion yours has on his. Throughout this time he’s never stopped shifting in his place, close to vibrating out of his skin, if it weren’t for your strong grip on his nape, keeping him in place. Keeping him behaved.

You pull out and he takes a deep breath at once.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Jonathan,” you grunt against his lips. “…but I get the impression that you’ve been wanting this for a long, very long time, if all of this stuff is any indication.” You gesture towards the open safe between you, below you.

He nods quickly in your grip. “Yes! Yes, I can’t— can’t stop thinking about it. About…” He seems to get abashed. “I wouldn’t— mind if—”

“If…?” You give his lower lip a small bite.

Jonathan gasps before resuming. “Like— I know i-it’s my first time in— you know— but, l-like…” He breathes quickly when you kiss the corner of his lips, his cheek, his temple. “…like… I’ve always… had this…”

His red-faced silence urges you to give him encouragement. “This… ‘fantasy’?”

“Oh my God,” and he starts laughing nervously, because you’re right, because you’re so attuned to him he can’t believe it. “Y-Yeah. Well— It’s— Um… Where it— wouldn’t be…”

You hum in interrogation.

“Oh my God are you gonna make me say it.” You chuckle at this rushed mumble of his, and he answers in kind. “Um… I’m trying to say th-that… I wouldn’t mind if— if you weren’t… gentle.”

This is Hell. This is Hell and Heaven in the same place. Does Jonathan have any idea of what he’s unleashed? He’s just basically revealed that he wants you to be rough with him on his first time bottoming. And, for the love of God, isn’t that a vision. This shy, inexperienced —at least in this aspect— boy wants you to have your way with him, like the secret little pervert you’ve found he is, thanks to the safe full of literal sex toys right under you both. This fantasy of his is just so in tune to yours that you want nothing more than to fulfill it.

But.

There’s a problem. A little problem with this.

You kiss him shortly, and walk around the safe until you’re kneeling in front of him, between his legs on the bed. He has to look up from under his lashes. You caress his neck with both hands and he seems to melt against you.

“Babe. You have no idea how much I want that.” Jonathan trembles in your hands. “But… we’re gonna need a lot of lube and prep.”

“Sure, yeah. Of course. I know.” But does he know? You think he’s not exactly aware of how much you’re implying with this, but before you can open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I just— need to grab. It. The lube.” He reaches to the side and grabs one of the two tubes of lubricant in his safe. The neutral one. “And… well… Just… get prepared.” He starts giggling like he just said something extremely funny, and you can’t help but join in. “But… I need to see what I’m working with, first, i-if you know what I mean.” Jonathan puts as much enticement in his voice and face as he can, even as he stutters his way through it.

This is the part you were worried about. You just don’t know how he’s going to react when he sees it. Even then, you start undoing your pants, slowly, his giddiness beating his nervousness now. “Okay, sweetheart. But maybe you should let me ease you into it—”

“Don’t worry about that,” he rushes to say, putting his own hands on yours, helping you undo the button and flyer with shaking hands. “Sorry I’m so eager. I just… can’t stop thinking about it.” He hooks the fingers of both hands under your underwear and starts pulling down as he keeps rambling. “Like, I’m… sort of dying for it? And you know it since you can see all the things I have here, and I’m always kind of ready, and— w-well, um…”

His voice dies down as your cock is revealed. Here’s the point where he’s completely silent, just staring at it, mouth open as if in wonder. Or maybe horror.

Because the thing about this particular fantasy of his, of wanting to have his virginity just ripped out of him, can’t be entirely possible without a good amount of pain now that he knows how big you are.

“Ah…?” Jonathan stares at it with a terrified smile. Then looks up at you. Gestures at your member with a loose finger, looks at it again. “H-How… Is it r-real?”

You give him a sympathetic half-smile, half-grimace. “It’s— Yeah. It’s very real. Unfortunately.”

Is it bad news that he doesn’t have a giddy comeback for that? Just silence?

“Look, Jon, we don’t have to do this anymore. We can just… I don’t know. Play a bit, if you want. Not do anything at all—”

“No, no, no, no. None of that. I just…” He seems to compose himself a little bit. Exhales a small laugh. “I needed… a second, back there. Sorry for— that. I still— you know. Maybe you’re right.” Jonathan’s hands nervously reach the sides of your cock, not laying on it yet. “We need. A lot of prep.”

You notice his eagerness and take his hands in yours, guiding them until they’re wrapped around your cock.

He exhales so shakily. He can’t even fully close his fingers around your member.

“You sure you want to?”, you have to ask, because he’s just so small compared to you. You’re so afraid of hurting him —in a bad way. In a way he doesn’t want.

He bites his lip as he nods. Then, as his face turns a darker shade of pink, he starts getting the most sly look on his face. You narrow your eyes playfully, attempting to understand what he’s trying to convey. His small hands on your cock rub up and down, slowly, the strokes a bit dry without lube but a nice feel nonetheless.

“Okay,” you say. “Gonna need a lot of lube for this, yeah?”

He nods again. Doesn’t speak, even though he looks like he wants to say something, but keeps it down.

You hum, and narrow your eyes again. “Okay?” You start leaning forwards, almost forcing him to start leaning back until he’s lying on the bed, his hands leaving your cock to aid himself.

He nods once more, this time frantically. He makes a small squeak when he feels the hot imprint of your big cock on his clothed thigh.

“Then…” You kiss him deliberately. His hands grab your shoulders. You withdraw after some few seconds. After you quickly take off his sweater and shirt at the same time, you’re back to lying on top of him fully. “I’m gonna need to see what I’m working with, first, don’t you think?”, you mumble against his lips, echoing what he said first.

Here’s when he starts shifting more in place. He appears to be eager, but holding back for something. Jonathan’s expression is one of heavy anticipation. His breathing is deep, ready for you. Even so, he nods one last time.

You kneel back up and start undoing his pants. Jonathan lies back on his arms, his legs slightly shifting in place. You give him a sly look that pins him in place, makes him so hot under the collar, and begin lowering his boxers just until his cock starts to show. He giggles, nervously, airily, and you can’t help but join in.

He whines in between his soft laughter. “Don’t laugh, okay? I know it’s small.”

He’s so pouty about this that you can’t help but lean forward and steal a short kiss from him. “Now, why would I laugh about that? Like it wouldn’t be one of the hottest things from you.” Your hands finally uncover his hard cock while he’s sputtering at what you’ve just said.

And it is hot. It is hot to you that Jonathan is simply so small compared to you, in every aspect. His cock is just perfect, would fit like a dream in your big hand. So you try just that.

Jonathan flails in the bed when he feels your fist enclosing around his member. He can’t help but thrust up into it repeatedly, all the while crying out at how good it feels.

But you’re mean to him. You use your other hand to hold his hips down, and your strength is too great for him to handle. He realizes he’s fully immobilized when he tries to push his hips up and can’t move even an inch. This sole fact makes him swoon, turns him into mush on your mattress, and he stops trying. Lets you be the one to lead the —slow, agonic— pace of your hand on his cock. It’s a thing of beauty: your hand is big enough to completely envelop his cock. The visual is so powerful that you feel your own throbbing hotly.

“Good boy.”

He moans so desperately this time, because it’s what he’s been dying for all along. It’s the first time you call him that.

“Yeah? You like being a good boy and staying still for me?”

He nods so quickly his hair shifts in place. “Yes. Yes, Sir.” Jonathan seems to realize that he just said this, and covers his mouth with both hands. He looks so abashed.

So you encourage him. “Such a good boy for me, calling me ‘Sir’. Don’t be ashamed now, gorgeous. You did it once already.”

Jonathan seems even more agitated by this. “I did?!”

He’s adorable. You hum in response. “Yes. So don’t get shy on me. Be nice and I’ll give you everything you need.”

His face does something so obscene now. His eyes cross and he lies down completely, moaning like he’s already coming, except he’s not. You’re afraid he might be too close, so you slowly pull your closed fist off him. His moan breaks in the middle of it, and you moan in response, almost mocking him as it ends in a small chuckle.

“Come on. I still need to see what I’ll be working with, yeah?”

It’s like the moment is slightly broken as soon as you say this. He nods, but is quiet now.

You lie on top of him, covering his body with yours, and it seems like he finds the height difference so utterly hot that he can’t help but release a little titter. You smile at him fondly. Now his arms encircle your shoulders, and you meet his lips in the middle, so slowly and softly that he turns into mush. While your left arm goes around his neck, both to hold him and to keep yourself up, your right hand starts the descent down his bare back, teasingly, loving every minuscule writhing it feels as it goes. Calloused fingertips caress his spine, the dimples on his lower back, then go right under his underwear beneath his pants. Jonathan whines as your big hand takes hold of his left cheek, fondling it almost roughly, and the thought is simply too much for him. He pulls off the kiss and hides his face in the crook of your neck, almost sobbing with how much he’s feeling.

Your fingers approach the place you’ve been looking for all this time. Except…

You feel something hard. Something flat and wide where his entrance should be, and you immediately know what it is.

“Jonathan.”

He pulls off your neck just the tiniest bit, only to look at you with a mortified look, as you said it so strongly, almost like you were reprimanding him.

But he’s turning you feral, so you grab his hips to quickly turn him around and have him face down while he yelps. You hold his hips up as he’s too dumbfounded to react yet and pull down his pants and underwear, only down to his thighs and he can do no more than cover his face with his hands.

There’s the metal buttplug in all its glory.

“I knew it! I knew there was something missing in the box!” The visual is so stunning. To know that he’s been wearing this all this time…

Jonathan whines like a kicked puppy. “I-Is it too much? I’m sorry, I thought you would like—”

“Oh, no, no, baby. This is just perfect. Feel.” You lay your hard, throbbing cock on his right asscheek and he makes a sound like he’s drowning. “Can you feel how hard you made me? You’re such a good boy, Jon. Got ready for me without me having to tell you.”

Jonathan moans almost like he’s yelling, then presses his face against the bed.

You lie on top of his back, your chest molding over it. “It means it won’t take too long to fit my cock in you,” you all but growl next to his ear, and he sobs. Your right hand grabs the base of the plug, and even that little thing has him wailing. “You know, I gotta ‘fess up. Some minutes ago I was about to say ‘It’s cute that you think this is big’.”

“Oh my God!”

“Yeah! I was just as shocked,” you say conversationally as you twist the plug in him, his feet kicking up and down the bed. “I thought, ‘does he really think this is big? Oh boy, what’s he gonna say when he sees my cock?’”

Jonathan’s response is a warbled, unintelligible noise.

“Let me see just how ready you are.” Your fingers start pulling the buttplug out, and he’s wailing and thrashing on the bed as you do. You’re probably the first person to anally stimulate him, and you know just how sensitive the first time can be. “Now, be a good boy and stop moving, yeah?”

His movements halt to a stop, though he’s clearly shaking, like it’s a huge effort for him.

“That’s a good boy. So good, Jonathan. So obedient.”

Jonathan’s response is a wet, “Thank you, Sir.”

“So polite, too. Let me see.” You pull the buttplug out until the widest part is stretching his entrance, something that makes him whimper and have to try even harder to not move. “Hm. This is a good size. Perfect to stretch you just wide enough for your favorite dildo, isn’t it? Tell me.”

The boy under you takes deep, whining breaths, trying to calm himself down, before understanding he’s been given an order. “Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.” You pull the plug out even more, but push it in back, slowly, then back and forward again, creating a short rhythm that has Jonathan scrambling for a grip on the bed. “Let’s see how open you are.”

“Fuck!” Your words have him cursing out in ecstasy, but he then quickly recants. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Oh, Jonny. No need to apologize for that. So fucking hot when you curse.” You take the plug out as he whines, and leave it to the side. He’s stretched open, enough that you think you could fit the dildo, or two, maybe three of your fingers.

Still. Not open enough for you.

Your thumbs open his hole, making him clench around nothing. “You’re a good boy, baby. You did so much already. Can you stay good for me and let me stretch you more?”

“More?!”

You cackle. “Yes, sweetness. This is obviously not enough for my cock. I might hurt you if I fucked you as you are right now.” It seems like either your words alone or the situation in general make his legs stop working. He starts slipping down, almost collapsing on the bed, before you hold him up with your right arm. “Oh, what’s wrong, baby? Too much?”

“N-No— No, sorry, Sir. I’ll be g-good. Please stretch m-me more.”

You give him a low chuckle. “You are being good. Let me help you.” You stretch your left arm and grab the pillow in your bed, folding it in half to double its height. It goes under his hips now. “Lie down on it.” Jonathan obeys, but it’s obvious that he’s now incidentally found a place to rut his leaking cock against, because he moans so brokenly, but stills immediately. You decide to ignore this for the moment. “Better?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

You stretch until your face is near Jonathan’s and you give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Good.”

After this, you kneel up and turn your body around to look through the contents of his safe. Jonathan feels cold without your contact, but stays in his place.

“Will you let me use your favorite one?”, you ask him, pointing at the black dildo in the safe.

He has to turn his head a bit to see you, but bites his lip and nods. It seems like he’s a bit abashed now, because he doesn’t call you ‘Sir’ and rather hides his face in the bed while giggling this time, but this is not a conventional scene, so you don’t tell him off.

You just chuckle in sympathy. “Okay. Do you want me to use your lube?”

He struggles to talk, sounding muffled in the mattress, but then lifts his face up. “Wh-Whatever you find best, Sir.”

“That’s right,” you growl at him, fondling his ass and rubbing at his hole with your thumb. “Leave it to me.”

You take a condom from his safe and leave it to the side, next to the lube that’s already on the bed. Next, you take off your shirt, throw it somewhere around the floor, and start taking off Jonathan’s lower clothes. Once he’s completely bare, you pull off your own remaining ones until you’re both naked.

“Alright. This is what’s gonna happen,” you start, the authority in your voice leaving no place for argument, and Jonathan exhales shakily. “I’m gonna use this dildo in you, just to get you used to the feeling of a real man’s cock.” You rub the tip of the silicone dildo up and down his stretched hole, to which Jonathan whines. “Then, I’m gonna start adding fingers next to the dildo, so I can get you nice and open enough for my cock.” Your free hand fondles his right asscheek. “Then I’m gonna finger you a bit more, just because I feel like it. And then I’m going to fuck you.” Jonathan can’t hold back and moans as he tries to get more of your hand. “Sound good?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, yes, please, fuck me.”

You chuckle. “Eager.” You hold the dildo up. “You want me to use a condom on this?”

“Yes, please.”

Your face lowers to his ass and you leave a wet kiss on the cheek you were just fondling. “Good boy.” You reach out to grab another spare condom from the safe. You open it and lower it down the dildo. Then, you find the lube and spread it liberally on the sheathed toy. The tip of the tube goes on his ass, and you press on the tube to let some lube out. He flinches from the feel of it, and you chuckle. “Cold?” Jonathan nods, meekly. You close the lube, and leave it to the side for now.

Now, you hold the lubed dildo against his entrance, rubbing it around and softly pressing down to spread the lube.

“Ready?”

Jonathan nods and hides his face in the bed. He grabs the sheets for good measure.

The tip of the dildo goes in without much trouble, since he’s already stretched a good amount, but the way he clenches down repeatedly and moans is just so sinful.

“Oh, God. Sir.”

“Feels good?”

He nods quickly. “C-Can you put more in, please?”

Now you stretch over him and bite his nape. “Of course.” You push the rest of the dildo in him, slowly, but you think you could have done it all at once, since he takes it so nicely. The base of the dildo is flat and wide, easy to maneuver and push fully against his ass. “‘This a suction cup?”

“A-Ah… y-yes, Sir. Somet-times I like r-riding it.”

“That’s so fucking hot, Jonny. Maybe I’ll have you ride me sometime. How’s that sound?” You start pulling the dildo back, and then quickly push it in him.

He moans. “Y-Yes— Sounds s-so good, S-Sir.”

You lick a stripe up his spine to his nape, enjoying the unintelligible blubber he makes and the shiver of his body. “Good.”

You can only thrust in a few couple of times, receiving steamy moans from your boy every time, until he says: “Please! Stretch me m-more, Sir.”

“You want it now? But I was so entertained with this—”

“Please please please please Sir I need it.” His hips push the tiniest bit towards your hand.

“Oh, you got it so bad. Well. I guess I could,” you answer, like it’s a huge effort for you to give him this. Your right hand grabs the lube, opens it, and you expertly pour some on the same fingers that are holding the tube. Then you close it and leave it to the side. You rub your fingers together to spread the liquid better. Your left hand pulls the dildo out just a frame, enough for your right index finger to be able to press on his stretched rim, right under the dildo. “Just relax for me, baby.”

You let him take a deep breath before you start pressing down with force. Your fingertip starts opening his ass more, until it’s down to the first knuckle, then the second, and as Jonathan starts wailing and his feet moving frantically, you manage to fit the entirety of your index finger.

“Take a deep breath. That’s it. Just like that.” You soothe him and he complies. “You’re being so good for me. How does this feel? Hurts?”

“N-No, Sir. Just… different. Good.”

“Yeah, I bet it does. I’m gonna stretch you open so much, gonna make you feel so good on my cock.” He moans so loudly at that. “Only pleasure for you, sweetness. No pain.” You start moving both the dildo and your finger in and almost completely out of him in tandem.

“I— ahhh— I don’t m-mind a bit of—”

“Oh, yeah? You like a little pain? That mean I can fit another finger right now?” Your middle finger teases his rim, and his legs shake.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

So you begin pushing in the second finger, knowing it has to, at the very least, sting a bit, not having let him get used to the first finger yet. This time, it’s a tighter fit. The trembling in his body is almost frenetic at this point. He doesn’t know whether he wants you to keep going or stop, but you don’t give him a moment of respite until your second finger is all the way in.

He breathes in like he was just about to drown.

“Still good?”

This time, he takes a bit longer to answer. Some seconds pass until he nods, though it’s a more hesitant gesture now. The thumb of your right hand soothes the skin around his rim. Jonathan deserves a reward for being so good, so your thumb presses down against his perineum.

He screams.

“‘You ever done that? Play with your prostate from the outside?”

Jonathan moans like he’s crying and shakes his head.

You give him a small external massage on that place while you start a rhythm with both hands, in and out of him. Not much time passes until he no longer feels strung out, moaning freely and relaxing against the bed. Even now, as hard as he is and as much as you know he wants stimulation on his leaking cock, he hasn’t pressed himself against the pillow even once. He’s so obedient. You have no idea how you got so lucky.

You give him more of this, until he starts pushing back at you, just a minimum fraction. “C-Can you put another, Sir?”

“Of course, baby.” The ring finger is going to be the last one, you think. He’ll be sufficiently stretched after it, only enough to fit your cock but not too much. That way, he’ll truly feel the stretch, which is what you know he wants. So you start entering your last finger next to the ones already in, and this time, it’s a true challenge. There’s almost no more room. Not even the fingertip can be let in. “I’m gonna need you to relax more, sweetness. Can you do that for me? Can you be a good boy for me again?”

He’s breathing so noisily. He takes some seconds to try that before nodding. You press forward again, though not much changes.

“Try to push out a bit, yeah?”

“‘Push out’?!” He’s so scandalized at that that he laughs nervously, but still does as he’s told.

You’re now able to enter him better. The slide is difficult, made only a tad easier by the lube, and you manage to fit your finger bit by painstaking bit, until you have three fingers in him alongside the dildo.

Jonathan starts sobbing.

“Oh, Jon. Hurts too much?”

He can’t even answer. He’s so overwhelmed that he has to press his face against the bed to compose himself. “N-No,” is his hoarse answer. “I l-love it. I just… feel so full.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Your thumb gives him some stimulation. “Should I keep going?”

“Y-Yes, please. Sir. Yes, Sir.”

“That’s my boy.” You start a slow pace, still letting him get used to this. Jonathan’s hands grip the bedsheets on the sides of his head. His legs fold and shake, like he can’t control them. “You’re an angel. So obedient.”

He keens at the praise.

“So pretty when you cry, too. You’d make the best picture right now.”

“Oh my God.”

“Don’t you think? I imagine you could bring the camera next time and you could take pictures of yourself, crying as I’m fucking you.” You chuckle. “I mean, if you’re coherent enough.”

He does the most pornographic sound now, like he’s an animal in heat. “Fuck me. Fuck me, Sir. Please.”

The state he’s in is simply too good for the eyes. You grunt as you rub your untouched cock against his thigh, leaving a trail of precum on it. He makes a little trill when he feels it. “You sure you’re ready?”

“Yes, Sir. N-Need your cock. Need you t-to fuck me hard.”

You try to calm down and appear nonchalant. “Hmm…” You start pulling out the dildo and your fingers at the same time. He yelps, sounding almost pained when he’s empty. “I thought I was calling the shots here. I remember saying I would play a bit more after this.” With that, you press four fingers in him, an easy slide now that he’s so stretched, and start a ruthless pace in and out of him.

He screams so loudly, so high-pitched, that you’re almost afraid he’ll be hoarse by the end of this. “N-Noooo— please— Sir, I n-need—!”

You lay your left hand on his left cheek, not hard enough to slap, but hard enough for it to count as a tap, and he gasps. “I’ll give you what you need, boy. Now stay still.”

“Y-Yes— sorry, S-Sir. Th-Thank you, Sir.” Jonathan stills as much as he can, still loudly crying. The tears that roll down his cheeks make him look so debauched.

“My good boy.” Your fingertips press harshly against that bundle of nerves, and this has him thrashing for a second until your other hand gropes him hard, and he keeps still once more, but it’s a huge effort now. It’s a fast pace against his prostate now. You intend to have him beg for your cock even more before you cave in, but until then, you’re going to have your fun. You push out and pull in, fast and hard enough for his body to jiggle and for your fingers to tap his prostate hard.

He cries so much, whines like he’s being denied something. “Ah— Sir, I-I’m gonna come t-too soon— if y-you— keep—”

“Yeah? Ever come just from this? From playing with your prostate?”

He shakes his head, making small pleas here and there.

“Fucking hot. I bet I could make you cum on my cock alone.” Jonathan yells when he hears that.

You quickly pull your fingers out before he can start clenching repeatedly. He makes a shrill noise.

Your hands spread him. “Look at how wet and open you are for me. Did such a good job letting me in.”

And he cries so hard now. “Please!”

“It’s okay, baby. You did so good. You deserve a reward.” You wipe your wet hand on the sheets and grab the remaining condom. After tearing it open as quickly as you can and rolling it on your hard cock, you pour some of the lube. Then, you lay the length of your sheathed cock in-between his cheeks. “Feel how different this is. Very warm, right? Unlike your little dildo here. And so big, too.”

Jonathan moans so desperately, his words —if they can be considered that— unintelligible.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Gonna ruin you for all these toys of yours.”

“Oh my G— oh my God.”

You press the tip of your cock against his stretched entrance. Immediately, his hands reach back, looking for yours. You take his hands and stroke them. “Nervous?”

He takes deep breaths before answering. “Y-Yes.”

“I’m gonna start very slow, so don’t worry.”

“I-It’s— it’s not that. It’s— okay— you can g-go f—”

“You want me to go fast?” One of your hands, your right one, gives his own one last caress and you then grab your member. “Let’s just start slowly, yeah? Then we’ll see.”

Jonathan has nothing to say to that, because in the next moment, you start pushing in, easily, up to a certain point. He starts breathing in and out frenetically, almost to the point of hyperventilation, when the last of your head struggles to push in. He wails, he sobs, his legs kick against the bed, and he holds onto your left hand like it’s his lifeline. “Hurts.”

“Yeah? Should we stop?” Your right hand strokes along his back, trying to soothe him.

“N-No, I l-like it. More. Please.”

You chuckle. “Who knew you were such a size queen, Jon?” You don’t give him time to get used, then. Pushing forward more and more, you find he tries to push out at the same time, just like you’ve told him little time ago. Even that seems to only help him minimally. He grunts at the effort of fitting such a big cock in him. “Almost there, sweetheart.” You start giving him short thrusts, in and out, trying to get him acclimated.

“S-So full. So full, Sir.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Your short thrusts go further each time, until there’s only a very short space until you bottom out.

Jonathan’s left hand grabs onto yours strongly, but he’s pushing you to him now.

“Oh, you want all of it?”

With one forceful thrust, you bury yourself in him entirely.

Jonathan’s sound is undescribable. He sounds like he’s crying, babbling something, and choking at the same time. His body seems to lose all its strength, because he all but collapses on the bed in his position; the only reason why he’s still up is because of the pillow under him and your left hand grabbing his.

You’re afraid he might have passed out.

“Jon?” You shake his shoulder with your right hand.

He makes the most fantastic noise in response. It’s something so vulgar, so raspy, and it almost sounds like he’s gone stupid with pleasure.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Feel good? Doesn’t hurt?”

Jonathan doesn’t answer verbally at first. He makes sounds as if he were drawing in as much breath as he can, and then answers: “Uh-huh.”

“Gonna need words, sweetness. What does that mean?” You’re so amused at him, and at the same time think he’s the hottest thing you’ve ever witnessed.

His left hand, which has sort of gone slack on yours, moves to let you know he’s not completely out of it. “It’s. G-Good. Hurts s-so good.” Before you can answer, he continues. “W-Want you to fuck m-me fast. Please.”

“Fuck, baby. You sure you can take it?”

“Y-Yes— I like n-not taking… not taking time when I…”

“Oh, I get it now.” Immediately, you pull back, and push in forcefully, making him scream. You start a fast pace right away as he thrashes as much as he can. “What a little pervert you are, Jon. You like pain,” a strong thrust, “…you like it big,” another even stronger one, “…and you’re so greedy you can’t even wait for it.” The force of your thrusts create loud slapping noises against his ass, only rivalled by his screams. “It’s like I got the fucking lottery, here.”

The fact that Jonathan didn’t want to get used to the size of your cock makes the beginning part of this so much more exerting. It feels like his nerve endings are on fire, and everything feels so much, overwhelming. He’s crying so loud it’s almost worrying, but he loves every second of this. Loves having to work to fit such a big member in him, have it fuck him so deeply, unlike any of his toys ever could. The searing heat of your cock has tears falling down his face. And the friction is undescribable. It almost feels like he’s not prepared enough, not lubed enough, but he is. He’s just too small in comparison to you, not made to fit something so big in him. But his hard work is paying off, because his insides keep stretching more and more with every thrust given into him, opening him so much that he feels as if you were carving your place into him.

“So fucking pretty when you cry, too.”

Jonathan moans desperately when he hears your praise. He’s so sensitive to it, even the smallest nice words can have him leaking more onto the pillow.

And then, in one of those thrusts, your cock presses down against his prostate.

“Sir!” He shouts it so loudly. “Again again please again.”

“That place feel good?” You don’t give him what he wants in its entirety. You start fucking against his prostate in random intervals, only enough to keep him on his toes, but not enough to overwhelm him. “Damn, Jonathan. I’m so deep in you, stretching you so much, I can feel it. You’re gonna be gaping so bad after this.”

For some reason, that’s his breaking point. He shocks himself with the way he’s suddenly cumming so hard against the pillow, untouched, while you struggle to keep fucking him through his clenching.

“Already? That’s so fucking hot, Jon,” you grunt as you start slowing your thrusts, but he shocks you with what he says.

“D-Don’t stop— please— don’t st-stop.”

You chuckle. “Y’sure? It’ll take a bit more for me, baby.” You continue your hard thrusts, not slowing down even a minimum fraction while he’s still in the last throes of his orgasm.

You know he’s done cumming when his moans start turning into desperate yells. When every single second of friction has him thrashing and screaming against you, you decide to test the waters. You lie fully on top of him, covering his chest with your back, opting to give him short, quick thrusts that dig deep into him.

“Come on. You wanted this, didn’t you?” Your cock inadvertently presses against his prostate without you meaning to, and his crying gets louder and more desperate. “Didn’t you?”, you have to repeat, just in case he’s about to regret it.

“Ah—! Y-Yes, Sir. I l-love it.”

“Yeah? You like when I use you?”

At that, Jonathan can do no more than wail and have his body try to curl in itself, unable to take the overwhelming sensations. “Yes! Please, u-use me, S-Sir. I’m y— I’m your t-toy!”

He’s going to be your ruin. Quickly, you encircle his torso with your arms and lift him so that he’s sitting up with you. “Hold onto my neck.” He’s so out of it that he doesn’t understand the order until you’re gathering his legs with your arms, hooking them on the juncture of your elbows, and then standing up, lifting him and dropping him on your cock while he scrambles for purchase on your neck.

“Oh my God.”

Your arms, still holding his legs, slide up his body until your hands manage to hook against his nape, and he’s now in such a vulgar position it could very well appear in the raunchiest of skin mags. Once he understands that he’s about to be fucked like this, in such a helpless position, he sobs even harder.

“Sir.”

You fuck up into him harshly, keeping him in place with your strong grip, though the jostling of your thrusts moves him up a slight fraction. Jonathan’s hands scramble for a grip on your arms this time, feeling how deep this position allows you to reach. His eyes roll back with every strong push, feeling how it pushes against the deepest part of him, a pressure so intense it’s almost painful against the end of his walls. He feels almost as if you were thrusting right into his stomach with how big you are. And he wails when most of your thrusts push against his prostate. The frequency with which you’re stimulating it is too much for him, pushes him closer and closer to delirium the more time that passes.

You don’t talk now, too engrossed in witnessing Jonathan losing his sanity, even if you can’t see his face. It’s so hot to see how he doesn’t sob that much anymore, rather starts moaning, fully accustomed to your cock now. You hold him tighter against you and give him a short, quicker pistoning of your cock, and the gradual change is almost unbearable: his moans turn into high-pitched whines, then into simple gasps, and then.

And then he starts making noises that sound as if he were giggling. Laughing even.

“Oh, my boy,” you grunt near his ear, because you’re getting close, and then chuckle. “You’re losing it.”

The euphoria in Jonathan’s face will be unforgettable for sure. He’s simply so debauched, eyes rolling back and almost drooling from the overwhelming feelings. His hands barely holding onto your arms, since his strength is weaning. But he’s coherent enough to rasp out: “In me. C-Come in— me, S-Sir. W-Want you to c-cum inside. Want t-to cum with you.”

His words have you fucking him so roughly now that his previous loud moaning resumes. You’re almost there. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up even more?” It’s all useless talk since you have a condom on, but the visual is so stunning you can’t help but add fuel to the fire.

Jonathan can’t even speak from how stimulated he is, but he doesn’t need to. The crazed laugh he releases at your words is more than enough answer.

“Yeah, you do.” Your thrusts turn erratic. You growl at his ear. “Now, be a good boy and come.”

Almost as if on command, Jonathan’s body seizes, and something truly spectacular happens. He comes, he comes so hard that his mouth is open on a silent scream, and he comes so hard that he starts— convulsing in your grip, thrown into a full-body orgasm that almost pushes him off you.

His repetitive clenching is enough to push you to the edge. You fill the condom inside him as your thrusts halt in small bursts, all while grunting right into his ear.

His erratic movements are so prolonged, so intense that you’re worried about him, so you sit on the edge of the bed, then lie down, taking him with you as you do and lower his legs as softly as you can. Then, he stops.

His body goes fully lax against you just as the last of your orgasm ends.

“Jon?” You take his face in your right hand, unable to see him in this angle. You pull out of him with him still on top of you, and he doesn’t even make a noise, doesn’t move a single muscle. You lay him on the bed next to you and crawl until you’re face to face with him.

Right in that moment, he regains consciousness, coming to with a high-pitched gasp. He looks disoriented for a second.

“Damn, you worried me for a second, Jonny.”

He’d make the prettiest picture just like this. Debauched, clearly just fucked, hair messed up, tear trails down his cheeks. “H-How long—”

“Just a second, sweetheart.”

Jonathan relaxes against the bed, breathing deeply, until he regains his footing. Then, he smiles at you. “Thank you, Sir.”

You chuckle at him, and lie next to him, holding him close to you. “Why are you thanking me?”

It seems like he regains some of his bearings, because he gets shy again, and presses his face against your chest. “I dunno,” he mumbles against your skin.

He’s so precious. Only he could get this abashed right after the most obscene sex ever had.

“You were right. You ruined me for anything else. How am I supposed to use these now?” He vaguely gestures at the open safe you had totally forgotten was still on the bed.

You laugh out loud. “Well. It’s a good thing you’re not gonna need them anymore. Not when you have me.”

The cassette is ASMR, but I didn’t want to use that acronym specifically because I read that ASMR was invented around 2010.

And yes I put Jonathan in a full nelson in the end.

Steve harrington x male reader fluff where steve is dating a flim nerd and they work together but in the breakroom they make out

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙛𝙩

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Before You Interact - Rules Of My Blog

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Clumsy beginnings can lead to happy endings. Even for a former-douchebag like Steve Harrington.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: He/Him (female aligned DNI)

𝙎𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚: Literally all fluff.

𝘼/𝙉: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK AGES I NEVER CHECK MY DRAFTS AND I FORGOT JFC but I had this idea for meeting Steve for the first time (bc my first impressions are always awful) and decided I had to write it like this. So it’s not exactly like the request but still.

𝙏𝙒: Throwback to when Steve got drugged by the Russians, mentions of weed (he tries to convince you he doesn’t smoke/it was a one time thing), no use of Y/N, I think that’s it.

The mention of Steve Harrington’s name would’ve earned no reaction from you at one point. He wasn’t anybody special, just another name and face in the school hallway. You never really had any classes together, and the end of high school solidified the difference in interests. You’d be lying, however, if you said it didn’t surprise you to see the brunette sporting a gaudy sailor suit and taking employment at Starcourt.

It wasn’t unusual for you to be at the mall. You and a few friends would normally meet up to go see whatever was playing in the theater as an excuse to hang out. It was a mutually loved experience — though you’d lost count of how many popcorn kernel shells had gotten stuck in your teeth that summer. If you weren’t at the theater, you were probably at the video store. Your life revolved around movies.

Naturally, it wasn’t surprising that the theater was where Steve met you on a very specific night. But his first impression was anything but perfect. In actuality, you’d forgotten all about it until a few weeks after when he came in for his first shift during late August. It was surprising, to say the least — considering how Keith despised him — but the brunette seemed pretty happy to swap the ‘Ahoy!’ printed hat for an equally ugly green vest.

It was early on a Thursday when he had his first shift with you. In his mind, he had been dreading and simultaneously looking forward to the shift. It was inevitable that your schedules would line up, but it still seemed too soon. The most you’d seen of each other was in passing or payday, casual interactions that left the (taller/shorter) male silently thinking about you for the rest of the evening.

You dreaded the shift a bit as well. Not for any big reason, but Keith said Steve had a shitty taste in movies. And it would’ve broken your heart, just the tiniest bit, to see the look on his face when you shot down his trashy recommendation to fill the lobby.

Even for only being there a few weeks, he caught on quickly, but had to redo his work most of the time considering how clumsy he was when flirting — both verbally and literally. While attempting to woo a really nice brunette girl, his stack of returns fell and scattered along the floor. You watched, amused, as the two picked the tapes up.

She left without getting anything other than a laugh.

Steve glanced at one of the hanging clocks, squinting a bit to make out the time.

“Break time?”

Your (e/c) hues caught the time and you nodded, motioning towards the back room. Nobody was likely to come in, but you left the break room door propped open just in case. Steve walked over to the fridge and pulled out the leftover pasta you had stowed away. The beige walls and cheap folding furniture didn’t do much to add comfort to the room, but your smile definitely did. He moved slightly, giving you space to use the small microwave.

Since that night at the mall, something about you had the (taller/shorter) male hooked. He remembered knocking the drink into your chest and muttering apologies, before staring at you in his drugged haze. You weren’t mad and began laughing it off immediately, instead becoming concerned about the blood and bruises that hid his features. Something about the way those fluorescent lights in a multitude of colors made you look ethereal and otherworldly. He had never seen a guy like you.

With the pasta finished warming up, you made your way to the small table while Steve tried to hide how he looked at you. He grabbed a half-empty can of Pringles and moved to lean against the wall. The loud climactic score of Terminator rang through the empty lobby and provided ample ambience for you two.

Steve’s sneaker tapped anxiously in tune to the music, leaving him to figure out what to say.

“Hey, I just — wanted to apologize? For, like, when we first met and everything.”

You looked up and met his eyes. He was expecting a confused look or for you to be mad, but you rolled your eyes instead. “Oh please, don’t even worry about that.”

He took this as an invitation to pull up the chair across the table and offer you a chip — to which you declined — before he continued.

“You actually remember that?”

“Uh, how could I not? I was seeing Back To The Future on the Fourth of July and you ran into me so hard I spilled my Coke. Not to mention I’ve never seen anybody’s pupils so wide — what did you do that night?”

Steve groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose with embarrassment, but smiled underneath his palm. Something about the way his bushy brows furrowed was unexpectedly cute and endearing in your eyes.

Nobody could deny that Steve Harrington was attractive. No, he definitely was. But especially now — not being shadowed by Tommy or Carol or any of the other stuck-up assholes from school. Now he was best friends with an awkward band girl and gaggle of dorky freshman. He was different. Still handsome and confident, but more authentic.

Steve leaned back a bit in the folding chair. “Oh man. That was a trip, for sure. I had a, uh, special brownie after work and was going to meet somebody to see a movie. I definitely overdid it, though.”

A smile formed over your features as you leaned closer to keep the conversation quiet. Keith wasn’t supposed to come in, but if anybody found out about Steve and the brownie, the nerd would definitely use it to fire him.

“Holy shit. Did it kick in during the movie? Wait — what happened to your face? You were all… bloody and fucked up.”

The brunette laughed and tried to think of a convincing lie. You wouldn’t believe he was drugged by Russians, of course, but it wasn’t a good idea to blurt that out. He leaned back and stretched a bit, giving you a good view of his toned arms that perfectly filled out his striped shirt.

“It kicked in before the movie even started. But Billy had been messing with Max — stepsister, friends with Dustin — and I tried to get him to just go home. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy about it.”

“So you fought him again and lost?”

He somewhat faked offense. “Uh, no. I didn’t lose. For your information, he had a date and left. But I’m assuming you knew about the first time?”

Steve watched as you poked and prodded the lukewarm noodles in the Tupperware container. It was evident that you were enjoying the story, anybody could tell with how your eyes glinted mischievously in the humming light of the break room.

“Of course. Everybody knew. I mean, I always thought it was pretty cool how you watched out for Henderson and stuff. Even if it did mean getting your ass kicked.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him.

He couldn’t be mad. In all honesty, it made him giddy — the idea of you thinking he was cool or something. The titles and admiration from peers began to matter less and less since graduation, they were nothing more than grains of sand. You, however, were different. You didn’t have to try to be anything — it came naturally.

Steve’s eyes wandered over every detail of your appearance as you focused on the pasta. It was like he was back in the theater, staring wide eyed at some (h/c) haired God.

Though you couldn’t see it, you felt the warmth of his gaze. “You’re staring again, Harrington.”

A hint of red dusted over his freckled cheeks. In an attempt to avoid saying something stupid, he resorted to eating again. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t very comfortable either. You wanted to ask about that night at the mall, as well as why he still seemed to look at you like you were the most beautiful thing the world had to offer. At first, the mall situation could’ve been a fluke. He was high out of his mind — it would make perfect sense.

But now? He looked at you in the exact same way, nearly a year later, completely sober.

You rested your chin into the palm of your hand and met his gaze again. “I bet the movie was totally amazing in that state.”

Steve nodded and flashed you a grin. It reminded you of that night and how his smile still seemed perfect, even with his perfect white teeth contrasting greatly to the dried blood that had covered his face.

“It was… something, that’s for sure. Felt like my mind was just gonna—” he gestured and made a cheesy explosion noise, “—yannow?”

“And was that from the brownie, or the movie?”

The brunette laughed nervously and shifted in his seat. Your voice was enough to drive him insane in the best possible way; sweet, caring, but still teasing enough to keep him going. Robin had been telling him to just go for it — he didn’t want to get his hopes up at first, but she insisted her superpower was having ‘gaydar’. That, and you’d not so subtly flirted with a few guys that came into the store.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve’s heart picked up in pace like it was about to pop out of the confines of his chest. It almost beat in time to the ending credits of the long forgotten movie that played in the lobby, and left a rhythmic pulse going through his body. He shrugged a bit, trying — and failing — to stop the words before they could come out.

“It was the movie at first, but something changed. I just remember looking at the lights then I ran into you.”

You laughed. “You looked at me like a deer in the headlights. I was tempted to call an ambulance, if I’m being honest.”

“I don’t blame you. I feel like I stared for hours or something — you just looked really hot. I mean, besides being covered in Coke. Pretty sure I told Robin you were a Greek God, or an angel, or something. At first I thought it was just the drugs, but then I saw you again and just… it’s the same thing.” He rambled.

And there it was, out in the open, before he could even realize what he was doing. Steve’s motion came to a blunt pause while he registered what he just said aloud. The pace of his heartbeat picked up until its thumping was the only thing he could hear.

The words came out of his mouth so quickly, and clumsily, like they weren’t a combination of the most genuine thoughts and that anybody had ever had about you. It was like an earthquake had just spawned out of nowhere, and once the rumbling stopped, your mind was racing as fast as your heart.

Steve took the silence as a very polite rejection. Once his own earthquake settled, he would try and apologize — ask you to forget about it — and he, too, would try. Every word was genuine, but the timing was off. Even then, he didn’t want to look across the white plastic table and meet the disgust in your eyes.

It would’ve killed him.

You sat with Steve in the stillness for what felt like too long. When his pleading gaze finally met yours, clearly working out what to say, he was met with a smile. Red heat filled the high points of your cheeks and spread into a dusting at the tips of your ears; it wasn’t hot, just warm.

“Holy shit… that’s, like, the nicest thing anybody’s ever said about me. Do you mean it?” The words came out ever so breathy.

Just like that, the former king of Hawkins High let the rest of his composure slip. It was like being exposed for the first time in a while; he wasn’t some arrogant rich boy with his pick of the school. The boy in front of you was as clumsy as he was gorgeous.

“I mean, yeah.” A nervous laugh worked through his body. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured our first shift together — just so you know.”

You grinned at him from across the table. “Me either. But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

There was no rush, but the brunette still felt like he should say something. No words of substance circled his mind, however, so he sat in silence with you in the dull room. Everything about the (accidental) confession had him feeling giddy and like he would melt into a puddle at any moment. With your lunch finished, you put the lid back on and moved it out of the way. At the sound of the bell from the counter, you maneuvered out of the room, sending Steve one last smile before attending to the customer.

A few hours had passed until the moon replaced the sun in a navy blue sky. And though the confession wasn’t what he had planned, not in the slightest, Steve was just glad that you’d been willing to give him a chance. For the rest of the shift, he would inevitably try to think of a nice date for you two. Unfortunately, he didn’t know much of your other interests at the moment — would it be too cheesy to go to the movies? Hawkins wasn’t exactly known for its creative date spots.

Your not-so-secret admirer leaned on his elbows across the counter as you worked on shutting down the computers for the night. It was silent in the door, now filled with a bit of darkness, save for the clacking of keys and the slinky that Steve messed with. The computer screen finally dulled in color and fizzed a bit as it turned off. The brunette followed as you moved towards the door to lock up, trying desperately to figure out how to word things. He hovered beside you like a shadow while you spun the open sign around and tugged the door closed.

“Whatever you’re thinking, the answer is yes.” You eyed him carefully with a smug grin.

“Really?”

“Of course. On one condition, though.” Steve nodded a bit nervously as you began to trap him between your body and the window, “If it involves movies, I’m picking. You may be pretty, but your taste is… in need of work.”

He smiled again. The (taller/shorter) male moved his hand to yours, not quite holding it, just gently running a thumb over your lower knuckles. Such a small gesture, but one that had you weak in the knees again.

“I think I can live with that.”

Reblogs over likes — it helps other people find my stuff. More male & enby reader content on my blog. ST requests still open!

hi, i was wondering if you could write steve's reaction to seeing (male) reader in a skirt or crop top? if you could add smut that would be great, but if you're not comfortable with that, that's completely fine. thank you :)

𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙚!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 (𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏)

Before You Interact

BLANK, AGELESS, AND/OR FEMALE ALIGNED BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED IF FOUND INTERACTING WITH THIS POST. 18+ MLM/NBLM ONLY.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: Steve’s locked his keys in his car and is stranded at Family Video. When you come to his rescue, he gets more than he bargained for.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙨: He/Him

𝙎𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚: Straight up smut, babey!

𝘼/𝙉: Now you’re speaking my language! I wanted to do the smut but didn’t want to make it super specific bc there was no mention of Top! or Bottom!Reader so. But I can always add more later. Likely will do more smut stuff depending on how this goes over. Your body (both sex and general build) is left ambiguous bc yannow.

𝙏𝙒: Steve is horny as hell, you’re in the store (but it’s closed for the night), handjob (reader giving), petnames (you call him baby/baby boy and handsome), lmk if I missed anything.

Family Video on a Friday night? More like Steve Harrington’s personal hell.

Nobody else was working with him that day. Robin left early for a date, Keith was out of town, and any other miserable soul knew better than to answer the phone. So Steve worked the remainder of his shift in solitude. He was moody, to say the least, even getting snappy with you when you brought lunch for him.

It quickly went away as soon as he started to eat. You even helped by tending the shelves and checking in the returns; the brunette was more than grateful.

But as helpful as you were, you were also a distraction.

You came in looking even better than the quick lunch you brought. It was hard not to think about all of the things he’d be doing at home with you, had he not been expected to work a long shift. Alone.

If Harrington wasn’t stressed enough already, now he had to deal with your teasing. But being a masochist, he was more than okay with it.

In the small amount of time that you were at the store during his lunch break, he had to deal with your bullshit.

Your hands brushing up against his ass or thighs, the way you’d grab at the front of his jeans when nobody was looking, whispering anything and everything in his ear when you walked by.

He loved you, but you were definitely a piece of work. And after the store was finally closed for the night, he was practically jumping in the car to go see you. With the doors locked, Steve made his way to the burgundy car and went to open the door.

Well — he tried.

The doors were all locked. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal, except for the fact that he couldn’t find his keys. The brown eyed male began to circle the car until he finally spotted them — sitting on the passenger seat in the dark.

He locked his keys in the car.

The male groaned and slung out a pretty impressive set of profanities at the realization. After a few minutes of failed attempts to get inside the vehicle, he reluctantly went back to the store to use the phone. The store always looked kind of creepy at night. Like a place that’s just slightly off putting with the lack of lights and people.

At the counter, he leaned over and pulled out the phone. The other side rang for a minute before somebody picked up and he was greeted with your voice.

“Harrington residence, this is the animal pelt rug speaking.” You spoke flatly.

Steve smiled a bit, always loving your smartass remarks. “Hey, uh, is there any way you can bring me your set? I went to leave and, uh, locked my keys in the car. Of all the fucking nights, too.”

He heard you sigh a bit. Not annoyed, but you knew he was.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there in a few.”

You hung up without goodbyes. In actuality, you probably should’ve put on a hoodie at the very least, but it didn’t seem important enough. Nobody would be seeing you this late anyways. So you grabbed your sets of keys and drove off to the video store once again.

The drive was peaceful even though it was short. The summer sun had died down, leaving only a navy blue sky and silver stars. Most people in towns were leaving restaurants or just entering the bars that littered your hometown. It reminded you that Robin would have to make it up to you two — hopefully she would swap shifts one day so you could take Steve out to eat.

Most parking lots were full, but not the one of the small strip mall that held the video store and arcade. Indeed, your boyfriend’s beloved car sat alone in the lot, reflecting lights off of the windshield. Inside the store he sat on the counter and smiled when you showed up, rushing outside to meet you.

With nobody around, you gave him a quick peck as he met you at the door. His hands found their typical spot at your waist before realizing he was touching skin and not fabric. The brunette pulled back and looked down at your shirt and nearly turned red right then and there.

It was an old shirt that you never really wore except to work out. The black had now faded to a dark gray, printed image cracking, sporting a few small holes every once and a while. You cut the sleeves off a bit and made the holes bigger than before, allowing for your lovely boyfriend to see the tone and shape of your arms.

God, he was ready to die.

“C’mon, let’s go home.” You pointed a thumb in the direction of his car.

You felt his lips graze your ear as he leaned (up/down) to whisper, “I really don’t think I can wait that long.”

It took a moment before it registered what he meant. The close proximity was enough to conceal it, but you felt the bulge through his jeans. Steve ushered you into the store, making sure nobody noticed, then opting to kiss you breathless until your back hit the wall.

All of the teasing had gotten to him, but now you were alone in the sheer darkness of the back of the store. Something about the situation made you laugh into the kisses, feeling as his hands wrapped around your neck. In the back room you placed your hands under his thighs to lift him onto one of the tables. The only lighting came from exit signs and a tv that never quite turned off.

The brunette panted into the silence while you gripped at his thighs. “Please, just… god, I need you to touch me.”

“Don’t worry, baby boy, you know I’ve got you.”

His hands went to undo his belt while you dove in to kiss his neck. Steve Harrington’s neck and chest were always sensitive, and he was never one to refuse when you wanted to exploit that. With his belt and jeans undone, you reached a hand down to grab at him through his boxers.

The brown eyes you adored so much rolled back and glinted in the red light. Even though he hadn’t been hard for more than a few minutes, he was very much desperate.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I’ll get you off here, but then you’re mine when we get back. Sound good?”

He nodded back into the wall and groaned.

You reached into his boxers to finally pull him out. He was hard and practically throbbing into your touch. Judging by the amount of precum, he’d been dripping since you teased him earlier in the day. There was a solid wet spot from where it had all built up — you were surprised it didn’t show through his lighter colored jeans.

Steve’s hands gripped at your exposed midriff as soon as you began to stroke his cock. Brown and purple bruises were likely to appear in the morning, but that was simply a bonus. The air that was completely silent was now overthrown with your boyfriend’s lewdest sounds.

Even if he didn’t say it, you knew he was a little too hopeful that somebody would hear what was going on. Maybe even barge in and catch you in the act.

You pressed your forehead into his and continued to work. It felt natural to jerk him off; everything he liked committed to memory, like if you were to touch yourself. A particularly strangled sound came from his throat as you wrapped your fingers underneath the tip, circling gently. He was at your disposal.

“Fuck—! Please, please… it’s so good. Are you happy now? Was this your plan all along?” He groaned, clawing at your sides.

You grinned. “Not really, but I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself.”

And he was.

The high extended to you as well. Even if you were just pleasing him, it was still as euphoric as if the favor was being returned. Sweat was building up on his forehead and trickled down over the various freckles. Still in your hand, he was close and twitching wildly. It was only a matter of time.

“Go ahead, handsome. I promise we can keep this going at home.” The way you practically purred was enough to send him over the edge.

Steve finally came. After everything that had gone on during the day, it was even more intense than usual. The orgasm worked through his entire body and had him convulsing on the break room table. Any cum that wasn’t painted across your hand or his jeans was instead strewn across your midriff and cropped top. Since he wouldn’t be getting much aftercare due to location, you ran your free hand through his hair and kissed his red cheeks while he panted.

Silence was returned after a bit. There were only paper towels in the back, but you still cleaned up as much as possible. The brunette managed to stand again after a minute, half hard, and fixed his jeans. You felt his hand reach into the pocket of your sweatpants and fish out the spare set of keys for his car, a devilish smirk on his face.

“You said there’d be more. So, are you gonna stand here all night?”

If you like my stuff, check my blog for more. I post and reblog male/GN reader content. Reblogs over likes — it helps keep my work circulating and reach others!

stranger things x older brother figure! rich! reader

a/n: to celebrate stranger things s4 vol 2 coming out today in a few hours, i’ve decided to give us all masc aligned people a treat before shit goes down, enjoy.

cw: contains some scenes from the series (not enough to spoil), mentioned homophobia & fragile masculinity, bullying scenario, messy cuz i just put whatever random shit pops up to my mind and im also writing this at 1:30 am, NOT PROOFREAD!!

depending on your personality, it’s either the group would see you as the “cool” brother like in the movies or the “annoying” brother in real life

as kids, you’d have to defend them against bullies, seniority scares majority of the kids.

but if they don’t want you to interfere, they’d just ask you on how to defend theirselves

tell them some witty comebacks

yeah i don’t think they can do it without it leading into a physical fight so you’d have to watch their back before it becomes one

spoil them! buy them action figures, comics, new set of dnd miniatures. they’d worship you…for 5 mins before hyper-focusing on that same item you bought for them

you’d be such a big help to joyce and jonathan if you decide to fund and help them with the will situation in s1

jonathan actually talked to you, also joyce’ll treat you as her other son

imagine having a platonic relationship with max, your relationship is the relationship she wishes she has with billy

billy would probably spite you for it (he’s jealous and doesn’t want to admit it lol)

oh, and the group would probably jokingly make you compete with steve for the “best mom older brother” award (dustin would also make eddie compete too if you’ve met each other already)

somehow, they’ll find a way to turn your words against you

okay. imagine s3, the vent scene with erica

m/n: alright. how much do you want, kid? hundred? thousand? a million bucks?

robin: you’re gonna offer, a child, a million? do you even have a million on-hand?

m/n, a rich teen: uh yeah??? 🧍

robin: okay, what the actual fu–!

if you’re part of the LGBTQIA+, and openly into men or in touch with your femininity. mike’s dad would try and tell mike to not be associated with you again (sorry but he reeks of homophobia and fragile masculinity)

remember that one scene in s4 (ep 5, 1:00:52) where he’s so salty at dustin and the gang for hanging out in their house? that but insert m/n there

mr. wheeler: –why not? take us for all we’re worth

dustin: oka–

*slam*

m/n: if you care so much about your money, then here’s a fucking stack. thank you so much for your hospitality”

mr. wheeler: *is baffled by the amount of cash a teen could have* how’d you get this money??

m/n: oh i’m actually am a stripper and i have a sugar daddy– of course, i worked for it, obviously. i have a job.

dustin: *whispering* holy fucking shit, you’re so cool

if you have “old rich” money than “hard earned” money, it’s the same thing but probably less “cooler” in their eyes

if not all of them, at least one would keep bugging you on what job you have to earn a lot of money

some would say, they’re still bugging what you do for a living ‘til today

you’re a real boy

ft. steddie

summary — eddie and steve comfort their dysphoric ftm boyfriend (this is polyamorous)

cw/tw — FEM ALIGNED DNFI! mentions of deadnaming, transphobia, jason (he’s his own warning tbh), reader can’t wear a binder due to medical reasons, mentions of eating food. lmk if there are any more <3

note(s) — made this cause dysphoria has been hitting hard, hopefully this can comfort some other ftm who are struggling with dysphoria. sos if this isn’t that good, I’m not the best at writing in this format. btw this is quite short but I hope you enjoy :)

today had been a difficult day for you. being constantly deadnamed due to the fact that you haven’t come out yet (for obvious reasons), and people just being assholes about your identity. jason was mainly one of these people, since he somehow managed to find out about you being trans. of course he was an asshole about it, saying how you weren’t a real man and such.

when you met up with steve and eddie after school you just couldn’t help but bawl once you were in steves car, eddie the one hugging you due to the fact steve was too busy driving. when they arrived at eddies trailer they sat you down onto the couch with both of them on either side. “what’s wrong honey?” steve asked, holding your hand in his. you explained to them how you’ve been feeling dysphoric throughout the entire day and have been thinking about wether you’re a real boy or not.

eddie left his position on the couch, confusing you for a second, when he came back with one of his shirts did you understand. the boys let you change in the bathroom into the shirt that was a bit too big for you, which hid your chest from view. when you came back into the living area, you noticed that there was a blanket over the couch and some snacks and drinks on the table.

eddie and steve both have you a big hug when they noticed your tears of joy. “if you feel like it, we can have a take out for dinner tonight” eddie suggested, you nodded against his chest.

steve made you look him in the eyes and said “you are a real boy (y/n), you’re our handsome boy”, he then proceeded to give you a small kiss on the forehead, eddie doing the same not long after.

stranger things masterlist

headcanons

giving them a rock; fluff [gn! reader]

╰┈➤ ft eddie munson and steve harrington (separate)

‘words’ of affection; fluff [gn! neurodivergent! reader]

╰┈➤ ft eddie munson and steve harrington (separate)

you’re a real boy; fluff/comfort [ftm! reader]

╰┈➤ ft steddie (polyamory)

a different mind; fluff [gn! autistic! reader]

╰┈➤ ft eddie munson and steve harrington (separate)

scenarios

cuddles; fluff [gn! reader]

╰┈➤ ft vampire! eddie munson and werewolf! steve hartington (polyamory)

𖥔 . ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ 🍮 mmm, there seems to be no more content, care to head back to masterlists ?

True words, true words indeed

okkk I'm just askinggg why do ppl who strictly use she/her get so mad when males make xmale reader ffcs....LIKE YOU HAVE YOUR OWN WHY ARE YOU COMPLAINING!!!

"Oh theres not enough female fics, and blah blah blah."

OK so if you follow my blog, (which is not much like at all-) you know that I go by they/him will read both mxm and mxn.b

I've seen this shit before like when females decide NOT to follow the rules of she/her she/they WOMAN DNI and just continue to read it like they don't check.

And then they start to ask why they get Blocked like hmmm I didn't follow the rules of someones post why did I get blocked??

So dude just follow ppls rules so we can avoid drama, if you wanna read it you have to be the right gender then, read whats for you, cuz if you dont specify the gender for sure so many females will pop up.

ALSO STOP PUTTING TITTIES OR PUSSY FOR GN SHIT.

Like they may either be afab or amab but not all ppl are happy to see the words princess, queen, or baby girl when it says gn.

PUT THE RIGHT GENDER OR PUT AFAB GN ITS NOT THAT HARD TO FIX YOUR DAMN TAGS!!!

...thats all♡♡

PLEASE. I NEED REQUESTS!!!!! IM SO BORED. IVE BEEN REWATCHING EVERY SHOW IVE EVER WATCHED. GIVE ME STEVE, EDDIE, MIKE, ROBIN (PLATONIC WITH A CAPITAL P), AND WILL REQUESTS PLEASE. EVEN SHIP REQUESTS WITH PROMPTS. ANY PROMPT OF YOUR CHOICE JUST PLEASE IM BEGGING IM ON MY KNEES.

eddie with a single dad boyfriend- i feel like he’d be great with kids :’) just him and the kid messing around and getting into trouble?

“Tell Me I'm Dreaming” 

Eddie Munson x Single Dad Reader

FEM-ALIGNED READERS DNI

I'm so sorry I kind of rushed this!! if you did want them as headcanons just request again so I can do it right!! Also thank you so much for the request I loved it!

You felt as if it was entirely possible to find somebody in Hawkins who loved you for you and didn't become uninterested the second they found out you had two kids at home with a babysitter. Over the years since you were 20 and had two kids with your ex-girlfriend, who just decided she wasn't ready and got up and left the kids with you while you stayed in this terrible town with terrible people. You definitely knew so since you had gone on dates with many women (even some who tried to convince you they were divorced) as well as guys who were closeted gays, because I mean, it's the fucking 80s! You have to do what you have to do to keep yourself safe.

You had planned a date with some guy from another town since you two met at a family video and had many favorite movies in common. You called your usual babysitter, but they seemed busy, so you did the next best thing and called Eddie Munson.

You and Eddie had met at one of his performances or concerts because, while his band was packing things up into his car, you went outside for some fresh air away from your weird date, and Eddie, being the sort of flirt he is when he sees someone as handsome as you, told Gareth to watch over his van while he walked over to the handsome, mysterious man near the dumpster. He dragged him and his sweaty, unkempt hair to you.

"Hello there," he said with a smile that went up to his eyes, and speaking of eyes, he had some you could definitely get lost in forever. He leaned against the wall next to you, laying his head against the cold bricks, honestly being really refreshing to him at the moment. "Hi?" you responded with an eyebrow raised in confusion and your hands stuffed in your pockets since that night in Hawkins was as cold as Antarctica, but you’d rather be frozen to death than go back inside with your date. He looked at your shivering figure, wondering if you were cold, why you were even outside. He exhaled as he looked back at his van, which was now full of his band members and their equipment, and looked back at you. Why aren't you enjoying the other bands? I know, I know they won't be as good as mine, but it's cold, and inside is warm, in case you didn't know, "he chuckled, crossing his arms.

"Oh, I know."

"Then why be outside where you’re shivering?"

"Trying to avoid my date

He couldn't help but laugh and feel embarrassed for the guy inside who lost his chance with you. "Me and my band are on our way out already." Need a ride? " He asked, which sounded like a miracle if you’ve ever heard one. You nodded, "God yes. please!" You laughed as he pointed his hand to his van and you ran over, then, seeing the passenger seat had already been occupied, "ah-- should I get in the back?" You turned to Eddie, who was walking over the "back?" "No, no, of course not," he scoffed, going to the passenger side and opening the door for Gareth, who took the seat for himself. "Go to the back, we have a guest," he said, to which the male in the seat hopped into the back with a bit of annoyance, and you got in, putting your seat belt on. "Make sure it's on tight, handsome." "

That’s how the two of you met, and being how you were, you didn't mention your kids until a while after hanging out, and after that, you mentioned them every time, so it caught Eddie's attention and he asked to meet the little angels you helped make, so you gave him your address and soon enough when he didn't have hellfire or corroded coffin practices or performances, he drove his van to your house, parking in the driveway then getting out with his keys. Making his way to your door with your neighbor, who was watering their plants, now staring at the metalhead knocking at your door.

The door opened, but nobody was there. "Hello!" a high-squeaky voice said, so he looked down to see a girl who he guessed was your daughter [D/N]. He smiled, "Hey!" he said with a wave, to which your daughter answered, "Are you my dad’s friend?" He said, "You have crazy hair," she said, looking at his hair with wide eyes. You picked her up and set her aside. "You go draw with your brother," you said to her, leaving. Then you looked at Eddie. "Sorry about that," you said with a sigh. Eddie shook his head, "It's alright, don't worry." Now that I have seen D/N, where is S/N? He put his hands together behind his back when you moved out of the way to let him in. "Thank you," he whispered, walking past you. He walked past the kitchen, which was filled with the scent of food cooking on the stove.

"Watsa making?"

"Just some mac and cheese with garlic bread since I need to go grocery shopping."

"Yum"

After that day, he came around by invitation most of the time for dinner, mostly since Wayne was never home at dinnertime and had left for work. Eddie always hung out with the kids and you were surprised at how well he was with children and especially your son (the wild child). While you did the most important things (cook and clean), Eddie took care of the kids and even offered to teach D/N guitar, so she now has free guitar lessons from the best guitarist in all of Indiana. He started taking care of them while he encouraged you to find someone you loved and who loved you, so you went on what felt like a million dates, but they all sucked (as sort of said in the beginning).

Now back to where we were. Eddie was called over, asking to babysit, to which he said yes, and now he was here with his guitar and a box of cassette tapes. He came in while you walked out. "I'll come back at maybe 9 alright? "you said with the voice he thought was always as sweet as honey—shit was he distracted?" He shook his head and looked at you “uh yeah yeah 9 got it”. He nodded, then closed the door behind you and went to play some music. The kids were very interested in listening to him play guitar and he taught them a few chords. All on his mind was making sure he got these kids to bed by 8 and wondering if you were having any fun on the date.

While you were at a restaurant at 8:56 pm., alone because your date went to the restroom and said he’d be back soon. That was at 8:24. You paid for the meal and grabbed your coat, slipping it over your shoulders as you made your way home, seeing the lights were off, assuming the three musketeers were asleep. You unlocked the front door and then opened it to hear "INTRUDER!" You thought someone was behind you, so you went more into the house but instead got hit in the face with a pillow falling to the floor. "You idiot! It's dad!" you heard the two kids arguing, then another voice you recognized calming them down. You sat up, seeing Eddies turn on the lights and the kids with their hair as messy as their faces as if they were fighting someone. You looked at them confused then at Eddie with a look that could scare a horror movie character! "Uh oh…captain Eddie is in trouble," your daughter said when you got up. Eddie slowly shrugged, "I swear it was seven just two minutes ago and the kids were in bed!" He laughed nervously and was scared. You walked over to him, taking a deep breath. "You are going to clean every inch of this house and hope my kids go to sleep," you whispered with your hand on his shoulder, your nails digging through his sleeve and skin. "Yes sir," he said, walking away.

An hour or two later, your kids were out to sleep and Eddie was cleaning up near the couch you were seated on. He sat next to you with a groan of complaint and stared at you till you turned your head towards him. "You’re off the hook, for now, Munson, but just know if this happens again you will not be able to play guitar anymore."

"You’re bluffing," he said with wide eyes.

"Am I Edward? Am I really? " You grinned.

"Am I allowed to apologize with a... kiss?"

You were almost six years older than him, with two kids. Did he really want to? Maybe he was the one bluffing. It seemed your body moved on its own from how you didn't even notice you were nodding to his question. The metalhead leaned in till his lips were against yours. His lips were chapped, but you didn't mind, especially since it was the first kiss you had had since you were twenty years old. Your eyes shut and you kissed back, sliding your hand up his arm and into his hair, making the kiss slightly deeper by having him let out a small hum into your mouth. You pulled away, looking at his face that always seemed like it would be in an art museum somewhere. "Tell me I'm dreaming," you said against his lips that were chapped but definitely tasted as sweet as candy. "I'm 100% real," he whispered back.

"Are you sure you want to be with me, Eddie?"

"Where else would I want to be? Life couldn't get any better if it tried."

From then on, you two dated, keeping it from the kids until you both knew you were serious. He continued to get in trouble with the kids by making messes in the living room by throwing pillows at them..and breaking televisions.. also messing up pretty much every room in the house at least five times, but he always after like it was a fantasy story where the brave knight (himself, of course) had to face the evil dragon (of course you) to protect the villagers( the kids). He always made an excuse or promised to make it up to you.

"Our crazy brains just left and we got out of control!" he said which caused your son to start laughing till his stomach hurt

"I'll rent [movie name] again if we don't get in trouble"

Yes, still being the kids' parents, you all had talks and did your best and, if I must be honest, not only was Eddie good at guitar, but he was even better with families.

I'm so so soooo sorry this whole this is rushed and messed up!!

"It Was A Little Mistake"

Part 2 of: “It Was A Little Mistake”

Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Warning: Angst-fluff, Happy couple, kind of OOC Eddie, terrible writing 

Word Count: 1,796 words 9,298 characters

Summary/Request: Bro I loved You're story “it was a little mistake” I was wondering if you could do a second version where Eddie keeps sending the reader letters and letters until the reader finally decides to go the the hellfire club but this is just request if you don't like it you can just ignore it have a nice day or night btw I was literally love you're story's 💕

Eddie was a mess. You saw it. So did everyone else. His hair was much messier, he had eyebags, and dark ones at that, and his style was all over the place too. He usually wears his Hellfire Club shirt with a leather or jean jacket along with ripped jeans or jeans with chains. You loved his style! You loved how outgoing he was sometimes, but once you tried to dress how you liked and were told you looked like a tornado had happened around you, so you stuck to ordinary clothing people saw you in. Eddie was the only person who let you actually be yourself around him and wouldn't call you weird or give you uncomfortable looks. In fact, he matched your energy.

It was Monday and you had just gotten to the school, making your way to your locker, though your eyes were scanning every inch around you for Eddie Munson. Yea, you hated him and never wanted to speak a word to him, but what? You could care about him. You let out a sigh, not seeing him anywhere or his van anywhere outside. You unlocked your locker and opened it to see a letter fall to your feet. A while ago you received a shit ton of letters like you could fill a show box with them, but then they stopped. Now they’re back and it made you feel your cheeks heating up. At first, confusion ran through your body as you leaned down to pick it up and looked at the envelope to see no name or anything. You grabbed whatever book you needed, putting all your other things away and the envelope into your pocket. You walked to your class, dropped your belongings, and sat in the back row.

Getting bored of listening to math, you reached into your back pocket, got the envelope out and brought it in front of you. After a few seconds, you hesitantly opened it, quietly and slowly. You take out the paper from inside, pull it out, unfold it, and see... messy writing. You could barely read (I refuse to believe Eddie Munson would have neat handwriting). ‘I'm sorry [your name]. I really am. I wish I could take everything back. I swear :( come to Hellfire tonight and I'll make it up to you. I just want to see you. Please’ were the words that you read. Eddie didn't sign it, but you knew it was from him. You wanted to smile at the fact he hadn't given up trying to get you back since it made your heart flutter, but the thing was you were still mad at him and he was just a few seats away from you. You slowly turned your head to his seat to see him staring at you, but once you two made eye contact, he looked away, trying to act natural. You let out a sigh and crumbled up the paper, looked at the trash can in the back of the class, and tossed the paper into it (giving very much basketball pro)

You couldn't see the sadness on Eddie's face. But seeing the paper being thrown into the trash can broke his heart. Shattered. His heart shattered into a million pieces. He turned away, so you didn't see his hurt face filled with regret that he even tried to make it up to you. It's almost been a year. Why was he still trying? The sound of the bell ringing could be heard around the school. Students got up and left, as well as you and Eddie did, going your own ways.

Neither of you tried to talk to the other or even look at the other... or that’s what you each thought. Eddie had been stealing little glances at you and you did the same, but you thought the other never looked at the other (because you guys are stupid/j).

Eddie couldn't stand you not being by his side. Whenever he was driving home, he imagined you were sitting in the passenger seat, humming along to the music playing on the radio. If you were wondering, he did skip the 7th and 8th periods. But he left you a little something.

After many classes and what felt like an eternity, school ended and you started walking to your car to see another note. "What the hell, Munson?" you mumbled under your breath, then took the paper out of the windshield wipers and unfolded it, reading it to just see

‘HELLFIRE CLUB MEETING

4:00 PM

P.S: Please come.’

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh, not laughing at it but laughing from wondering how many letters he was going to give you.

You shoved the paper into your pocket and got into your car, putting the key in and turning the car on, reaching into your glove box to pull out a cassette and put it in to play, White Room by Cream. You drove off school property as the music filled your ears and your elbow out the window that was blowing air into the car and messing up your hair. You tapped the wheel to the beat and opened your mouth to sing a bit of the lyrics.

"I'll wait in this place where the sun never shines.

Wait in this place where the shadows run from themselves.

You said no strings could secure you at the station. "

You leaned your head back, keeping your eyes on the road.

As I walked out, I felt my own need, just beginning.

After playing the song two times, you slowed down to park in your driveway and grab your things from the passenger seat, getting out the keys before getting out. You walked into your house and saw that your parent(s) were nowhere to be found, so you went to your room, threw your belongings on the floor, and then heard your phone ring. You walked over to your bed and sat down. You picked the phone up and brought it to your ear. "[last name] residence," he said as he messed with the cord. It was Mike Wheeler? ‘[first and last name?]', the freshman's voice said, "Uhm..yeah." You responded, hearing him sigh in relief, "Thank god you answered! Look, you need to forgive Eddie because he’s completely out of it. Like, it's so bad he gave us a sort of peek of the campaign and even worse is that it sounds nothing like how Eddie would do it! " Mike basically yelled, making you pull the phone away from your ear a bit.

"I'm sorry Mike, but I can't just forgive him like he did nothing."

“Well, fix him or something! He needs fixing!" He yelled one last time before hanging up.

"Geez, when did he become an asshole?" you asked yourself, putting your phone back then laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling, thinking about what he had said. Was Eddie really that torn over everything? I mean, you were the one who had gotten heartbroken, the one who was shit talked about. You were the one who should've been sad and completely weird! You wondered why Eddie cared so much. He didn't like you. He said so himself! Eddie liked people who gave him space. Is that why he won't get away from you? 

You didn't go to hellfire that night, but Eddie tried again the next week, and the next, and the next, and the one after that, then the next after the next, and the other after that. So on and so on till you gave up and threw away all the letters, grabbing your coat, cruising under your breath, wanting to choke Eddie for so many letters. You didn't hate him 100% but didn't fully love how he was flooding your locker and had people staring at every envelope that fell out when you opened it. You went to Hawkins High and burst through the doors to rush to the hellfire room, kicking the door open, "Eddie. I swear to fucking God if I get one more letter I will-" You got interrupted by the fact that the club wasn't there. Only Eddie and a table with a cloth on it full of roses and takeout food. "Henderson saw you kind of mad at the letters today, so I thought you’d come..and I was right." he chuckled

"What is all this?"

"Our date"

"Our what?"

"Date! To make up for your 20 dollars and to make up for being an asshole "

Your stomach was filled with butterflies flying all around, making you feel happy, your cheeks were heating up; and you were getting nervous. Did he really want this or was it just a joke? He went to the seat you were closer to and pulled it out. "Do you want to have this date?" he asked, making you freeze up. Your mouth moved faster than your mind, blurting out a "yes" and moving to the chair to sit down with Eddie pushing it in for you to hear a small thank you. He sat down in his own chair. "I just wanted to say how sorry I am [your name]. I didn't mean anything I said. I swear it just came out like word vomit and I didn't want it to come out because none of it was true and I didn't want to say any of it! " He said, as you had already started eating your food. You didn't want to forgive him, but now that you think about it, everything he did in almost a year did make up for it..sort of. He gave you 215 letters asking for forgiveness and gave you a few gifts. "I forgive you," you said with a slight smile. You swear you felt better after forgiving him.

The two of you talked happily for almost four hours about how you were during the time you guys didn't talk and how much you missed each other, and after your date, you two left the school and you finally realized. You walked here. Ran. You asked Eddie for a ride, and he laughed at the fact that you were so mad. You ran all the way here, then the two of you got into his van and he drove you home. You leaned over to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. "You are the most romantic guy I've ever met, Eddie Munson," you said, with your lips against his cheek. He put his hand on your cheek when you pulled away and pulled you into a passionate, sweet kiss. You didn't waste a second kissing back. Was he wearing strawberry chapstick? You pulled away with a smile.

"Goodnight [your name]."

"Goodnight Edward Munson"

Authors Note: THANK YOU GUYS FOR SO MANY FOLLOWERS AND REBLOGS AND EVERYTHING!!!!

Tag List: @maxx0inwonderland@bambi-laufeyson@almost-to-gay-to-function@ziggys-guitar@sara-ackerman-05@marxenash@dear-my-honey@liamtheart @dayannadelgado1

Fighting the urge to make an Eddie x male reader

BUT AS 10 THINGS I HATE ABT YOU

REQUESTS PLZZZZ🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 IVE BEEN WATCHING CUTE SCENARIOS ON TIKTOK AND WANNA MAKE SUMMMM😍