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you stumble down the stairs of your house in philadelphia, panting and gasping for air as you make it to the basement floor. you land on your side, your slip dress getting all dirty and ripped.
more dirty than it already is, considered it's covered in blood.
you're hungry. hungry for something obscene, inhumane. something abhorrent, that'd make your poor parents die of shock.
you stagger towards the fridge in the room, panting like you've gone without water for days. the door is swung open, and you almost keel over from relief.
you grab one of the sealed packages from the fridge, tearing it open with ravenous force, and dive straight into the heart of the last man you killed.
you sob with relief when your teeth sink into the heart, the blood pouring out of your mouth and dribbling down your neck, covering you in maroon streame that'll be hell to wash off later.
you grip the heart in your hands, terrified that it'll disappear if you even try to loosen your grip. desperation claws at you from the inside as you descend into animal-like starvation. snarling and gasping and choking, you force the heart into your mouth, your eyes practically rolling back as the pleasure overcomes you.
“aaaand cut!” jonathan shouts from behind the camera, his friend snapping the clapperboard in front of the lens.
he immediately bursts into applause, grinning like nothing better has ever happened to it.
you smile up at him, placing the piece of gelatin that has been moulded into a heart carefully down on the plastic cover of the fridge. your hands are sticky with red-dyed corn syrup, which covers your neck and mouth. your dress, likewise, is stained with fake blood and mud.
“oh my god, you're incredible.” jonathan grins, walking up to you and crouching down next to you, handing you a towel to wipe your hands and mouth.
you shake your head, brushing him off, but internally, you're gushing. you know it was a good performance, and you're doing it for one of the best people you know. “it's your writing, jonathan.”
he smirks. “make sure you tell professor. alvarez about that.” he says, making sure everything is wiped from your hands and face, swiping away any leftover tears from underneath your eyes.
you smile, too, body still shaking from the intensity of the scene, of the acting. jonathan frowns at you. “you did amazing. i know it's a lot-”
“jonathan, it's perfect.” you grin. “the scene is awesome.”
he shakes his head, before standing back up with a huge smile on his face. he packs his camera back up, putting it carefully in the camera bag in the corner of the room. thank god, robin's weird uncle is out of town this weekend, so you and jonathan's group can film the gory parts of this film.
and hopefully, you can all clean the house of the fake blood and guts before he gets home.
his friend, george, pats him on the back and smiles. “we're going to the bar down the block from our hotel. you two meet us there?” he asks, his gaze jumping between you, still on the floor, and jonathan, who is raking his hand through his hair.
“yeah, dude. we'll catch up with you.” jonathan nods, giving him a small smile. honestly? he's not the biggest fan of bars, and partying. but he owes these guys for going with his anti-capitalist, cannibalism film plot, and for casting you as the lead.
the group for the consumer hadn't expected you to audition in the slightest, being a history student and seemingly not the least bit interested in being in front of a camera.
and yet, here you are, acting your heart out and pretending to eat human flesh.
his friends leave, waving to you and jonathan. the latter flashes you another sympathetic look, feeling guilty for how this film always seems to end up with you covered in fake blood and all dirtied up.
you push yourself up to your feet, stretching out your body and helping jonathan pack the props and stuff.
the two of you eventually make it upstairs, and you lean against the couch, smiling at him. “it really is a great film. stop looking so worried about me.”
jonathan scoffs, shutting the basement door. “i'm not worried, just...”
he trails off, and you finish his sentence for him. “worried?”
he rolls his eyes, placing the camera bag at his feet. “a little.” he shrugs. “i dunno. it's just an insane film. and it's not gonna do well, by any means, and i don't want you to strain yourself, or, god forbid, get hurt-”
“hey.” you chide, snapping your fingers in front of his face. “i want to do this. you get me? even if this film is only seen by your film teacher and us, i'll have been happy to work with you, byers.”
jonathan's heart pounds against his ribcage, something broken in there picking itself up and coming back to life.
“i like working with you, too.” he murmurs, and you smile.
that goddamn smile. he could never get enough of it. your hair is a mess, tangled with fake blood and dirt, and your dress is a ripped up mess, too.
you look gorgeous. good enough to eat.
when his gaze flicked back up to your eyes, he realised that you've been watching him admire you. “like the view?” you tease, smirking at him.
jonathan rolls his eyes, and a faint flush colours his cheeks. “whatever.”
“i would say ‘take a picture, it'll last longer,’ but you've got a whole film reel of me looking like this, so...”
jonathan grins, ashamed, and playful pushes you away. you push him back, looking up at him with your big eyes.
he's so fucked.
the star of the film and the director..? does not seem like a good route to go down. but you're so goddamn pretty, and you look like a mess, the mess that he's created, and-
you swipe a finger through the dyed corn syrup stuck to your neck, and press the finger to johnathan's lips.
for a moment, he freezes. oh, my god. he can't believe that you've just done that. you can't believe that you've just done that.
you're about to pull away when jonathan's pursed lips open a little, and he pushes his head forwards so he can taste the syrup along his tongue.
your eyes widen, and you look up at him with desire shining in your gaze.
it's wrong, weird - he's sucking fake blood from your finger tip, and he's unbelievably turned on by it. and so are you.
“fuck.” you whisper, feeling the buzz through your veins, and a slow throb between your legs, as he licks the tip of your finger, and then grips your wrist to take it out of his mouth.
a string of saliva connects his mouth and your finger before it breaks with the distance. his eyes are glossed over like he's in a trance of your making, and your heart beats just a little bit quicker.
his hands find your hips, and his deft fingers dig into the soft flesh that it finds. he leans down, neck craning towards yours as he licks a long stripe up your throat where the trail of corn syrup is.
you moan, tipping your head back further to give him better access to the smooth skin there. his face buries deeper into your neck, his nose pressed against your pulse point as he laps at the lingering sweetness left on you. when the taste fades, he resulted to sucking on your skin - not hard enough to leave a mark, after all, you have scenes to film, but enough to make soft noises spill out of you.
he pulls back, lips wet with saliva. you watch him lick his lips, some of the fake blood smudged at the corners of his mouth, which makes you smirk and wipe it off with your thumb.
“fuck.” he says, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. god, he's so pathetic, you could almost cry. “this is so wrong.”
“what's so wrong about it?” you hum, trailing your hand up his back and up to his hair, your fingers getting lost in it.
“i don't know. it feels wrong. our relationship should be strictly professional.” he mumbles, hands flexing on your hips. “it feels-”
“wrong. i know, you've said that.” you finish his sentence for him, rolling your eyes a little. you pull back, now holding him by his shoulders and giving him a stern look. “you need to let loose, byers. i watch you, you know.”
“you watch me?” he blinks, confused.
“i watch you.” you clarify, not even with a slight acknowledgement of his confusion. “your shoulders are always so tense. even when you're with your friends, you just... you look a bit awkward. not that there's anything wrong with being shy, but you rarely look happy. the happiest i've seen you is when a scene goes well for the film.”
“i'm happy.” he frowns, now thinking back to all the times that he hasn't smiled when he was meant to. “i am. and i have fun. i'm just not great with people.”
“i get that.” you say, pulling him closer by his collar. “just let loose. have fun. take what you want.” your voice drops to a different tone, one that could definitely be interpreted as seductive.
“i shouldn't.” jonathan tries to push down his desires, but the way you're looking at him, and your beautiful lips...
not to mention, all bloodied and dirty for his movie... there's a perverse allure to it, knowing that he's the reason you look like that, even if it is just your character.
the look you give him tells him all he needs to know. he wants it, you want it, and you're waiting for him to take it.
so he does.
he presses his lips firmly against yours, before pulling back, stunned.
a million sparks flew. and he hasn't felt that way since nancy.
you wrap your arms around him and drag him back in, and he is hungry. his hands hold your face in place, his fingers spanning the width of your head as he devours you. his tongue brushes against your lips before slipping between them, pressing against your own tongue as you kiss him back just as roughly.
your hands find his hair and hold tightly as you take control over the kiss, your lips smashing together messily, hungrily. a deep sound of want comes from jonathan's throat, alongside the obscene sounds of the two of you kissing, and it's raw and guttural. he feels truly overcome with a starvation that only the taste of you can feed.
forcefully gripping his wrist, your hand leads his own towards the parting between your legs, which you open wider as you lean back against the couch. the filthy slip dress rides up your legs, and jonathan can feel the heat coming from your cunt.
he hesitates for just a moment, pulling back from your lips and looking down at your lust filled eyes. “you sure?”
you nod immediately. “m'sure.”
he gently pulls up the dress a little more, his lips finding yours once again. he closes his eyes and feels for the waistband if your panties, and finds out they're lacy.
he hums at the pleasant surprise, trailing his fingers towards the gusset of your panties to find them soaked. and he means drenched. not that he's inexperienced with getting girls wet - trust me, he knows what he's doing, contrary to the popular belief in high school - but he finds you more aroused than ever.
“sorry.” you hum against his lips, suddenly a bit worried that you appear too eager. “dunno what it is-”
“fuck.” he groans, cutting you off as he dips a finger into your panties and feels how wet you are. “nothing to apologise for. i like knowing that i have the same effect on you that you have on me.”
you smile, cheeks going a little warm. “oh, really?” you pry, feeling his long fingers slide further in, teasing the fold of your pussy.
“really.” he confirms, dipping his fingers between your folds and finding your entrance immediately, circling it with his pointer finger. you moan a little, but he continues talking. “on more than one occasional, i've gone home from a day of filming and had to jerk myself off in the shower thinking about you.”
his candor takes you off guard, but you grin all the same. it doesn't take a lot for you to imagine how hot that would look. johnathan's face deep in concentration, jaw clenched as he tried to suppress himself, but he can't help moaning your name anyway. you catch you lip between your teeth, feeling giggly now.
well, that giggle disappears when he thrusts one finger into you, immediately circling it upwards. you gasp, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. “god, jonathan.” you manage to choke out.
“so fucking tight.” he groans, trying to force another finger into your cunt, gently curling his pointer and middle fingertips inside of you.
you let out a soft noise, wincing slightly as his large fingers force their way inside of you, stretching you out a little. the burn quickly fades into a dull throb of pleasure, his ministrations making your whole body thrum.
as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, in tandem with curling his fingers forwards, you feel yourself growing more wet. the sound of it is obscene, your squelching entrance coupled with your whimpers and moans.
god, you're vocal. jonathan fucking loves it.
his cock throbs in his jeans, pressing tight against the seam of his pants. he hasn't felt this turned on in forever, and it feels almost better than your sopping pussy on his fingers to be blowing off some steam.
almost.
he presses his lips to yours again, gentler, this time, as he focuses on finger fucking your brains out. his hip bone rests against your stomach, his bulge pressing against you.
you gasp shakily, lips detaching from his as your head tips back. his thumb starts to rub small circles over your clit, just enough to give you some stimulation as his fingers brush your g-spot.
“fuck.” you moan, and jonathan has never seen anything more heavenly. you look god sent - the soft glow of the last remnants of the sun stream through the windows, illuminating the dust in the room until it reflects off your skin, making you glow. there is still traces of blood on you, staining your dress, in the dip of your collarbone, around your mouth.
he grinds his cock against you, the friction making him let out a soft breath, so horny his mind is foggy.
“fuck, right there, jonathan.” you groan, and he presses his fingers deeper in, pushing harder against your g-spot. you moan loudly, which trails off into an array of whimpers and pleas. “don't stop! oh my god, don't stop, i'm gonna come-”
his unoccupied hand finds the back of your head, and he pulls your hair backwards, hard enough to hurt.
stars explode behind your vision, and jonathan feels you clench tightly around how fingers as you come, hard. you squeeze your eyes shut as a guttrual, primal moan leaves your mouth, from deep within your throat. your hips buck against his hand, as your breaths come out uneven and shaky.
jonathan watches you, entranced, and drops his head against yours, rolling his hips against your hip bone. embarrassingly for him, he groans loudly, losing the ability to hold himself back, and cums in his jeans, unable to stop himself for any longer.
you both stand there, leaning against the back of robin's uncle's couch, for a good minute while you try to recollect yourselves. after jonathan has come down from his high, just a little, he removes his fingers from your tight cunt with a squelch. his fingers are pruned, a little, and soaked with your juices.
he watches your eyes flutter back open weakly, skin glistening in a sheen of sweat. your eyes widen a little when he puts his fingers in his mouth, sucking your flavour off of them without shame. sure, you're not a prude, or anywhere near a virgin, but you've never been with a man who's actually wanted all of this with you.
usually, the fingering was more courtesy, a means to an end. usually, you didn't come so hard.
jonathan presses his lips to yours, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. he kisses you like he's starving, practically snarling out the word “fuck” as he devours you.
“jonathan.” you mumble, grabbing his chin, digging your fingers into his cheeks. you push his face away from yours, making him look into your eyes.
his own eyes are glassy, his brown irises almost completely disappearing from view at how blown out his pupils are. he looks at you like a sad puppy, desperate to taste you, to drink in your pleasure.
“i want you to fuck me.” you state brazenly, keeping a firm hold of his face. you watch his eyes widen, and his lips twitch up into a small smirk.
“yeah?” he asks, leaning forwards and kissing the skin between your eyebrows, just above your nose.
you nod again, removing your hand from his face and instead palming his clothed cock.
your breath hitches when you find his jeans slightly damp, and you smirk. “did you cum?”
“yeah.” he says, voice breaking with embarrassment. you giggle, and grab his hand, pulling him around to the front of the couch.
you sit him down, and jonathan is so flustered, he doesn't know how to respond.
he certainly doesn't know how to respond when he sees your start to slip off your dress. you're not wearing a bra underneath, and your nipples are hard. his gaze flickers from your tits, to your eyes, and back to the rest of your body.
the dress slips past your hips, and you also drag your wet panties down your legs, throwing them at jonathan.
he grins, grabbing the lacy scrap of material and pocketing it while you're distracted picking up the dress, laying it down carefully. after all, it is your costume for half of the movie, and you take pride in your things.
you lean down in front of him, pressing your lips to his and helping him take off his jacket. you throw it somewhere near the tv, not giving a second thought to it when jonathan byers is right in front of you, and is going to give you the fuck of a lifetime.
you climb onto his lap, and he takes off his own shirt. you run your finger tips from his shoulder blades to his collarbone, pressing kisses there, too. his fingers lace into your hair, gripping hard. you grind onto his lap, and he groans.
“fuck. you're so fucking gorgeous.” he groans, moving his unoccupied hand to the small of your back, pressing you against him.
you giggle breathlessly, and start to unbutton his jeans, sitting on your knees so you can pull them down his thighs. his boxers follow not long after, and your breath hitches. he manages to wiggle his way out of them, kicking his jeans and boxers off his feet.
“jesus.” you breathe out, admiring the beauty of his cock. it's long, probably the longest you've ever had. veiny, and gorgeous, not exactly thick, not that you're complaining. jonathan takes his cock in his large hand, stroking it as you watch, enraptured by the sight.
jonathan grins at your reaction, taking your wrist in his hand and moving it down to his throbbing cock. your thumb brushes his mushroom tip, collecting the bead of precum.
you then bring your thumb to your mouth, licking the flavour of him off your skin.
“christ, sweetheart.” jonathan groans. “i didn't think you'd be such a-”
“whore?” you grin, grinding your dripping cunt against him, making him let out a throaty noise.
“well, i wasn't gonna say that, but-”
“i know, beautiful.” you say, pressing a kiss to his forehead, still smiling. you sit up on your knees once more, and grab his cock. he gets the hint and helps you line him up.
“you sure?” johnathan double checks, still feeling wrong in some way for doing all this. he's your director, and technically the person in charge of you.
you roll your eyes at him, and sink yourself down on his dick with a shaky whine.
“yes, i'm fucking sure.” you say, the breath knocked out of you. you cling into his shoulders, adjusting to the size of him.
“holy fuck.” jonathan groans loudly, grabbing your ass and sinking you down on him even further.
you gasp, finger nails digging into his skin, making him wince. jonathan gives you plenty of time to adjust, and when you do, you nod rapidly at him. jonathan takes the hint and rolls his hips into you, starting a steady pace.
the sounds of your moans are music to his ears, and you're relentless. you don't even try to cover up the sounds you're making, completely unapologetic in how vocal you're being.
you grind into jonathan, matching his own movements.
“fuck. that's it.” he groans into your ear, your cheek pressed against his cheek as you both moan and pant and gasp.
jonathan is relentless, thrusting up onto you like it's nobody's business. he feels your slick drip down his dick as he pulls back, before plunging back in again, your tight pussy clinging to him.
“jesus fucking christ, byers.” you choke out, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. of course, you didn't expect him to be bad at sex – the quiet kids are always the best – but he's a fucking sex god.
“i know, i know, baby. you feel so fucking good.” he moans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, keeping you impaled on him. it's sure to leave bruises tomorrow, but you don't mind that too much. the thought of jonathan leaving any type of mark on you makes you feel like a feral animal, like you're claimed by him.
not that you are. strictly casual, professional friends.
you roll your hips into him, and your clit catches on his stomach, making you shiver at the stimulation. his hands move, once more, completely restless. one hand fists in your hair, and the other comes round to where your bodies are joing. he rubs your clit delicately, drawing tight circles on the sensitive bud that make you gasp sharply.
“jonathan, i-” you start, shaking your head and rocking your hips more rapidly, grinding your clit against his deft fingers, feeling the tip of his throbbing cock brush against your cervix. “i can't go much longer.”
“s'okay.” he grumbles, lost likewise in his own pleasure. the way your soaking pussy clings to him is an indescribable feeling, one that can't be replicated. he thrusts his hips up, pulling your hair and exposing your throat to him.
“come when you need to.” he mumbles against your throat, before sinking his teeth into your collarbone. not enough to break skin, but enough to leave a mark.
and enough to make you come, once again. you moan loudly, thrusting your hips hard a few more times before sagging down on top of him.
he rolls his hips a few more times, before mumbling a quick “in or out?”
“in.” you manage, voice throaty and body tired stop of him.
jonathan nods, cock twitching before it spills inside you with a long groan from his mouth. your cunt clenches around him like it never wants him to leave, and he pants sharply, face still pressed against your neck and his hand loose in your messy locks.
“that was...” you start after a few minutes of relative silence, except for your broken breaths.
“yeah.” he agrees, understanding what you mean. life-changing. incredible. wrong.
you sit up, thighs shaking from the intensity of your two back to back orgasms, and he helps pull out of you. his cum leaks out when your pussy clenches at the loss of being filled up, his essence dripping down your cunt as you sit up.
you grimace, overly sensitive and sticky with sweat. jonathan pulls up his pants and underwear, shoving a hand through his hair before he stands up.
you look at him, confused and bewildered. “what?” you ask, feeling a bit defensive immediately. “you have sex with me then walk off?”
jonathan stood, and shakes his head. “no. no, i- i was-”
you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your naked body. he, likewise, rolls his eyes, but you don't see that part. what you do see, his him dropping to his knees in front of your legs, brushing his fingers against your knees.
“i was going to grab something to clean you up.” he says, nipping at your thigh as he slowly pushes them open, exposing your messy cunt. “but i think i've found a better way.”
“jonathan-” you start, grabbing his hair and pushing back, slightly doubtful.
he hums, looking up at you with those big eyes. “you want me to stop?” he asks, genuinely.
you clear your throat, at a loss for words. “i- no, no, i don't want you to stop, i just-” you say. “do you want to do this?”
he presses a kiss against your inner thigh. “there's nothing i wanna do more, sweetheart.”
you smile slightly, swallowing thickly and nodding, pushing his hair back away from his face. “okay, then.”
jonathan smiles a little, and kisses up your thighs, until they're on either side of his face, resting on his shoulders. he presses a kiss against your clit, before licking up the mess on your cunt with his tongue.
“fuck.” you murmur, head tipping back and your hands tightening in his hair. hoe eyes flicker open, looking up the length of your body and admiring you, while worshipping your pussy.
he continues to lap at your slit, making lewd slurping sounds as he eats you out like both of your lives depend on it. he swallows down your combined arousal. his arms wrap around your thighs, keeping you in place around him, so you can't wiggle away.
a moan leaves your mouth as his nose bumps into your clit, brushing the sensitive nub just enough to make you shake. it's no surprise, after two mind-blowing orgasms already.
it doesn't take long for your hips to start bucking up against johnathan's face, and he can feel your cunt fluttering against his tongue. his fingertips dig into your skin, and you moan even louder.
when he refocuses his attention on your clit, attaching his lips to it and sucking, you let out a keening whine, a sound you didn't even know could come from your throat. you pull his hair, reaching the brink of overstimulation as you get closer and closer to coming.
“jon- jonathan. fuck.” you moan, digging your heels into the skin of his back.
he murmurs something unintelligible, but his voice vibrates against your cunt, and you explode.
jonathan feels your back arch, making your hips thrust up into his face as you come. your fingers tighten in his hair to the point of pain, his scalp throbbing, but he doesn't mind it all too much. he focuses on working your through your orgasm, as your thighs start to tremble around his face, your cunt leaking juices onto his tongue, and dripping down onto his face.
when you come to, he's still lapping at your cunt, and you've had enough. you push away his face weakly, body trembling from how good the orgasm was. “mm, stop. jonathan-”
immediately, he backs away, letting go of your thighs and gently removing them from his shoulders. he wipes his chin with the back of his hand, smiling proudly.
“was that okay?” he asks you softly, sitting up and tucking your hair away behind your ears away from your sweaty forehead.
you nod, smiling. he stands up and grabs his boxers, pulling them on, then grabbing your bag of normal clothes - not the costume - and taking out your baggy top, helping you pull it over your head.
as you pull your hair out of your top, jonathan slides your spare panties over your ankles and you pull them up, stretching out your limbs.
then, you giggle, shaking your head. jonathan looks at you, a bit confused, silently asking what you're laughing about.
you point between the two of you, gesturing to his mouth and your, now clothed, cunt.
“i see why you call the movie the consumer now.”