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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 19] || [Chapter 21]

Rating: E Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 2.1K~ cw: SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, protected sex, ejaculation, voyeurism (in person and digital). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: he's their (under)boss for a reason.

My dumbass was in such a hurry I forgot to tag my lovely @mothymunson who encouraged me to write this when I was lost where to fit it + gave me extra ideas for the dynamic! 🫶

Chapter 20: Control

It’s been two weeks since that lazy Sunday you spent with Johnny. He had to leave in a hurry, departing on a mission, unable to tell you where he’d be going or when he’d be back…

Simon and Kyle were already on a mission of their own by Sunday so… You’ve spent these last two weeks alone.

It’s been quiet without them… And frankly… a bit lonely.

You used to like having time to yourself after the break-up… But now?

You’ve been with Leah and Mia for dinner a couple times… And although you love your girlfriends, and enjoyed yourself greatly while gossiping with them (and my, my, did you gossip) you find yourself missing Simon, Kyle and Johnny.

It’s 5:30 P.M. on Wednesday and you’re in your kitchen, making something quick for dinner, when there’s a knock on your door.

Eyes squinting in surprise at the lack of expected guests, you immediately think the worst. It’s Ethan. It’s Ethan and he’s pissed that Johnny and Simon fucked him up and he’s here for revenge and you’re alone and-

“Sweetheart, it’s me.” Simon’s voice from the other side of the door relaxes you and you rush across the sitting room and pull open the door.

“Bloody hell, you spooked me!” You say softly as you look up at him. He’s still in full gear and slightly out of breath, as if he ran over to your house the moment he landed on base.

“Hi!” You greet as he pulls off his mask and wraps his arms around you. He steps inside, making you step back with him as he spins you and kisses you, closing the door behind him.

You feel him guide you over to the living room couch and lower you onto it, making you squeal and giggle in surprise. “Simon!” You’re able to murmur as he lowers himself atop of you.

“Missed you… missed you…” He grumbles as he kisses you again, one of his hands on your hip, the other supporting his weight on the throw pillows by your head.

“Missed you too…” You admit, causing him to groan under his breath. His fingers find the straps that hold his vest in place and he quickly undoes them and takes it off, dropping it haphazardly on the floor next to you.

“Simon…” You whisper before he captures your mouth with his again, his tongue finding yours and making you moan. Oh, how you’ve missed him… Your hands trail down his chest and arms, unzipping his fleece jacket and he allows you to take it off him, leaving him in a black t-shirt underneath.

Your hands trail down lower, finding the utility belt at his waist. Your fingers just barely graze the thick, hard bulge in his cargo pants as you try to undo his belt, but one of his hand sharply stops you by gripping your wrist with three fingers.

You pull back from the kiss, the two of you out of breath. Your eyebrows are lowered in concern and your eyes softened. “What?” You asked him softly.

“I’m not-” He trailed off for a moment and huffed before burying his face in your neck. “Not ready for that.” He told you softly. “My body isn’t… I don’t want you to…”

“Oh…” You said, a bit surprised. You had noticed his reaction had been the same he used to have whenever you touched his mask in the past… And if back then you didn’t probe, you certainly wouldn’t now. “Okay.” You told him.

“Can we just…” He trailed off and slowly grabbed your waist with his hand, grinding his crotch lightly against yours. It jostled you a bit and you bit your lip.

“Yeah… we can dry-hump, Simon…” You told him in a reassuring tone, which only made him groan again and hump against you once more.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulder and neck as he fixed his grip on you and rubbed his bulge against your body in the thin lounge pants you had changed into after work.

Just as you’re just starting to kiss again, with Simon murmuring more sweet nothings of how much he missed you, there’s a new knocking on the door. Simon groaned in complaint and buried his face in your neck again.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell… He’s fast.” Simon grumbled and pushed up to his feet, sliding off you and helping you sit up.

“Who…?” You asked, a bit light-headed from the intense make-out session.

“Kyle.” He complained as he fixed his bulge in his pants with his hand, while waddling his way over to the door and throwing it open.

“You sneaky bastard.” Kyle said to Simon and pointed a finger at him while coming into the flat.

“Hi, Kyle…” You said softly, receiving a ‘Hi, lovie’ in response as he took off his shoes.

Kyle’s also out of breath but, unlike Simon, he’s changed clothes. “Guess what, Simon here waited until I got in the shower before he ran off to come see you. Left me stranded back at base!”

You can’t help but giggle as Simon’s scarred mouth morphs into a smug, proud-of-himself smirk. “Oops.” He said.

Kyle gave the two of a you a once over. “Ah… I see. Someone was… eager, huh?” He teases and uses his chin to point at the obvious bulge in Simon’s pants.

The younger man moves over to the couch and stands behind it before kissing you on the lips just as hard as Simon did, taking your breath away and making your shoulders sag as you sigh in delight at the feeling of his warm mouth on yours.

Pulling back, Kyle licks his lips and winks at you. “Good thing I got here when I did, hm?” He teases and looks at Simon before returning his gaze to you. “Now we can really get the party started…” He adds.

“Oh… Oh, fuck…” You whine at the top of your lungs, your eyes rolling back with each thrust inside of you.

Kyle’s lying on the bed under you, his thighs spread as he has you in a full nelson. His hands hold you behind your neck, fingers intertwined, your knees hooked up on his forearms to keep you spread open.

Kyle’s big. Really big. More than you expected. Considering the only points of comparison you’ve got are John and Ethan… It’s not like either of them was exactly small, but Kyle’s constantly bottoming out inside you without having to throw his whole weight into it. He’s also perfect shaved, not an inch of hair on him… anywhere. Other than his face, of course.

Your bodies are slick with sweat and your moans and his grunts and groans echo in the bedroom. You can barely keep your eyes open and if it weren’t the fact Simon in your field of view, you’d have given up altogether.

Simon’s sitting across from you and Kyle, having cleared your clothes’ chair and taken a seat in it, watching you and Kyle with keen eyes… His large, rough hand is wrapped around his own cock, a long one, the tip red and angry. He strokes it slowly, almost lazily, as he watches you get properly fucked by Kyle.

Unlike John (and Johnny, as you found out during your bath), Simon and Kyle are both cut… And Simon has something that you didn’t expect. Piercings. A Jacob’s ladder, you’re pretty sure it’s called. Four barbells stacked on the underside of his shaft, which he only leaves visible for a few seconds every time his fingers uncover it.

Considering Kyle’s stayed quiet about it, you’re pretty sure he hasn’t spotted them, either from having his own eyes closed, or because you’re in the way. Either way, you don’t mind it, at all, that you get the view all to yourself, even for just a second.

The sight of Simon sat there, legs spread, his cock on display, his big hands and strong arms moving slowly as he watches you and Kyle is an amazing one… And hearing Kyle losing his mind behind you, too into the moment to succeed at any amount of dirty talk or at saying anything coherent just makes it better.

“Fuck… Yeah… Fuck… You feel… Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell…” Kyle grunts behind you as he keeps rocking his hips against your ass, making sure to plunge hard and deep inside you, not giving you time to breath before he’s bottoming out again, the pace unforgivingly fast.

You watch closely as Simon stops for a moment and shifts around on the chair he’s sitting on before pulling out his phone. He lets out a chuckle as he looks at the screen, then, he fidgets around with it for a moment, texting someone.

It’s barely a minute later when you hear the signature sound of a FaceTime call blasting from the phone’s speakers. Simon accepts it and aims the back camera at you and Kyle.

“Say hi to Johnny, sweetheart.” Simon demands, his tone surprisingly bossy, as he goes back to stroking his large cock.

“H-Hi, Johnny…!” You whine aloud, just barely able to speak without melting, your mind slowly emptying of all thoughts beside the feeling of Kyle inside you and Simon masturbating across from you.

Your breath is ragged as Kyle speeds up his thrusts even more, his grip on the back of your neck tightening and tensing up, his hips moving so erratically that it makes you squeal louder. “Kyle! OH FUCK!” You whine, eyes rolling back and your face wincing lightly from desperation.

“Slow down, Kyle.” Simon demands. “Slow and deep.” He adds. You hear Kyle grunt and he murmurs something incomprehensible in response as he does what he’s told. His motions slow and become more paced and calm as Kyle himself tenses up underneath you.

You notice how Kyle’s thighs tense up, his veins bulging and throbbing as he controls himself not to squirm, clearly trying his best not to lose it and to obey what Simon says.

“Mmm… that’s it… That’s it…” Simon praises, his eyes going back and forth between the sight of you and Kyle, and Johnny on his phone. “Nice and slow, Kyle…” He continues saying.

Kyle quakes underneath you, his breath getting a bit more ragged and you swear you hear him gulp down as he tries to be good for Simon and for you.

“Johnny’s enjoying it, aren’t you, Johnny?” He speaks to the phone. You can’t hear the reply from the Scot, but considering how Simon’s chuckling, the answer seems to be a yes.

“Simon… Fuck…” Kyle grunts. “This is… t-torture!” He’s able to get out, his thighs twitching and his arms tightening their hold on the back of your legs. “I’m going to- Fuck!” He grunts.

“Go on, pretty boy.” Simon teases. Something about the look in his eye, the little mischievous smirk on his lips… God, for someone who’s afraid of being touched, he sure knows what the fuck he’s doing… It’s almost intoxicating, the way he’s exerting control on everyone in the room and even Johnny over the phone.

You can feel the knot in your stomach tightening more and more as you experience all these feelings at once, your mind steadily clearing of any thoughts other than the prickling of stars in the corner of your eyes and the heat increasing more and more.

“Aaah-” Kyle hisses as he keeps moving slowly and deeply, gritting his teeth behind your back and huffing through his nose with barely restricted euphoria. “Fuck… Fuck…” He grunts.

“F-FUCK!” His voice shouting as he loses his composure and buries himself to the hilt inside you with a sharp motion of his hips… and another… and another… Completely disregarding Simon’s commands to go slow… And it makes your eyes roll as your orgasm hits, causing you to shudder and twitch…

But, instead of moaning his name, you find yourself moaning Simon’s, your head unable to dip back due to Kyle’s grip on it, and forcing you to stare right at Simon as you fall over the edge of your climax.

Behind you, Kyle is losing his own mind, spilling his come in the confines of the condom… And you watch through a lidded, barely-aware gaze, as after a few more strokes, Simon’s cock throbs and twitches… before a few ropes of cum shoot in quick succession all over his lower stomach, which he had the presence of mind to lift his t-shirt out of.

The bedroom falls into complete silence as Kyle pulls out and slowly lets go of you, carefully helping get you out of the strained position that’ll likely leave your legs and joints sore the next few days.

“Good job...” Simon breaks the silence as he tries to catch his breath, his head dipped back against the wall behind him, his eyes lazily trailing the sight of you and Kyle on the bed, and then back to Johnny on the phone.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell…” You can finally hear Johnny speak through the speakers now that the room is silent. “You lot better repeat that when I’m not overseas and can join in…!” He quips, drawing laughter out of all of you.

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taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader #cod smut

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chrollohearttags · 2 months

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the morning after • reiner braun

mornings with your husband are always fun but the one after valentines is rather eventful!

playful banter, flashbacks to heavy smut, chubby reiner, plus size black reader, mentions of anal play/toys, breeding, squirting and other slutty tings, daddy’s used, reiner being aggravating as hell 😭

word count: 1.6K

📝: goes without saying but this is so self indulgent bc why not? I need him biblically, carnally and physically. I also need to engage in hand to hand combat with him one good time.

. °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆

the scene was a chaotic one..a messy one indeed!..

once crispy white sheets strewn about the floor, pillows tossed to the wayside. Expensive clothing with designer tags torn to shreds as they lie in a pile in the corner near the nightstand. All a result of one thing or rather..one person in particular.

“Mmm, good morning, sugar. You look beautiful—“

“Mm, good morning to you too, sir.”

two very starkly contrasting reactions from a couple who shared equal blame in this very erratic mess that was the master bedroom of your two story ranch home. You stood before the bathroom mirror, silk robe tied around your body to match the bonnet atop your head..plumpness swaying with each step underneath as you picked at your face. Examining the aftermath of last night’s wild antics. It was Valentine's Day and to say it was your most eventful yet would be a gross understatement. Dinner in the city, giant bouquets of roses, a night at the theater, lavish gifts provided by your doting husband and of course…intense, filthy love making to end the evening. You couldn’t have asked for a more ideal night. However, you had felt the effects of what transpired and saw them too.

“What’s with the grumpy face? Why do you sound like that?” The thick country accent spouted before it was quickly overcome with loud cackling as he doubled over into the sheets. The doting husband in question was none other than Reiner Braun. Retired NFL star turned rancher and the source of your early morning headache. That was the beauty of marriage. Having that one person you could not live without but definitely could use a day or two of break away from them! And this man was no exception to the rule. “I don’t know, you tell me! You must know since you’re laughing so damn hard.” Already, he had worked you into a tizzy and you hadn’t been awake more than ten minutes at this point. Getting up to relieve yourself and examine the damage he had done. You had lash extensions that had seemed to sweat out, a slight indentation in your neck from the collar you so quickly allowed him to place around your neck and your hair? God only knew what bird’s nest was underneath this bonnet. You could’ve killed him for his little cacklefest and making light of your very distressed condition. But truthfully, you had no one else to blame but yourself. Truth was, you two brought out the absolute worst in one another. Not by way of toxic behaviors or tumultuous fights but your filthy desires. Things that you would’ve never tried or even thought of prior to meeting each other in the bedroom, all manifested once you were together. Sexual fantasies beyond anyone’s comprehension and your dirtiest secrets all shared right here. You let it all happen and consequences be damned. Enjoying each other in such carnal ways, often led to things like this transpiring and Reiner found it more and more amusing each time.

“Just pull it off, I’m sure it’s not that bad. I bet you look adorable.” “Oh, kiss my ass, Reiner! You know my hair is messed up and you’re to blame.” Shouting at your husband as he tried to conceal his laughter behind a pillow because he had already caught a glimpse of your very altered state and decided to commentate the occasion with a photo of you all disheveled; hair tousled like that of a rooster, one breast dangling from your tank top and drool coming from your mouth as you slept set to his Lock Screen..needless to say, you were not moved! “Oh it’s defintely fucked up. But ya’ look so cute! And your tits?..look amazing.” Which was of little consolation to you! But just how had this insane night come to pass? Well, you guys could only attribute it to one thing..

flashback: the night before

“Right there, baby? C’mon..moan for me.”

“Yes! Right there, take it! Fuck..”

loud, rambunctious movements sounded off from beyond the walls of your bedroom. The heavy headboard smacking against the wall as your husband’s rough hands grasped at it for leverage. Holding himself steady as he slammed into you repeatedly. Consistently deep yet sporadic thrusts filled your core with no plans to cease anytime soon. Sweat beaded from your forehead and your makeup coursed down your face like that of a stream as it melted off from the intense session. That thick, burly frame stood over your own..perspiring as well but still as energized as ever and determined to put you through this mattress! In his opposite hand, he brandished a pink leash to match the collar tied around your throat and tugged tighter to keep you reigned in. His own gift for the occasion. Along with that skin tight, latex lingerie you were sporting. Thrashing you around on his cock with brute force but you didn’t complain and in fact, begged him relentlessly for more!

“Give me that fucking pussy..open it up—thereee ya’ go.”

nodding and gliding his tongue across his lips as you placed those long acrylics to your asscheeks and spread yourself open for more working room and his viewing pleasure!…exposing that bejeweled, heart shaped plug that your other hole was sucking on at the moment. Fluttering with each thrust as those creamy strings leaked down onto it. He couldn’t get enough and neither could you, quite honestly. It felt incredible and Reiner was going to spend all night if he had to..making certain that you were well fucked and satisfied. Even if you had to crawl the next morning. Tugging that collar once more, he’d prompt you to open your mouth before filling it with spit and demanding that you rub it on your center. “That’s right, look at me when you rub that clit, sweetheart. I wanna see your pretty face when you come on this dick.” Watching and listening to you writhe and whine as you worked yourself into yet another orgasm. “I’m gonna come, daddy! Please…keep—fucking me, just like that. Just like that!” Your leg trembled whilst it dangled over his shoulder blade. Being laced with soft kisses on both your ankle and instep. His lips curled into a maniacal smile as he watched his dumb, fucked out little slut work herself into another climax. Having come a total of three times already. Once by his fingers in the living room, for a second time when he ate your pussy until tears dripped down your face and for a third now.

“T-take some ou—“ “Not a fucking chance, baby. If you wanna squirt, I suggest you do it with me inside you or hold it in. Your only choice.”

he was pounding into your core, swallowed up by that overwhelming tightness that was your cunt and Reiner did not want to pull out. Having already stuffed you with one hefty load, he wanted—no, needed to give you more! More of that healthy nut that spilled down onto the sheets and your little asshole as he fucked it out of you and brought you to your peak again. He could sense the sheer desperation on your gorgeous face; heaving and crying as you pawed at his once toned six pack. Replaced by a solid yet rounder core but still just as sexy as ever. Blonde stubble grazing your cheek as he leaned down to shove his tongue into your mouth. Sloppy, nasty pecks complete with light taps to your cheek and a palm residing on your forehead as he continued drilling you. “I said come, princess. I know it’s big but you can handle it, right?” Nodding profusely to sate his desire but alas, he wasn’t finished..not by a long shot. Rubbing profusely, (y/n) released a shrill cry as you let juices splatter all over his torso. The sounds of flowing liquids going on in spurts as he pumped that squirt out of your body.

“Good girl, I knew I could depend on you.” Cackling once more as he made one more move, one that would send shockwaves throughout your body. Tugging out that plug, he’d swiftly take its place before you had time to react both mentally and physically. Whispering into your ear:

“So I’ll reward you by fucking this pretty little ass of yours. Let’s see how you take it.”

end flashback

“You’re impossible, you know that? Got me looking a fucking mess…” mumbling off to yourself and smacking your teeth as you picked at your eyes in the mirror. Even so, he was still getting his fair share of cackles from your suffering! “Nonsense, you’re beautiful, poundcake..no matter what. Nothing could change that. If it makes you feel better, you can just take the black card and whatever you need redone, just go get it.” his statement seemed so sincere but alas, it wouldn’t last long and your adorable pout soon shifted to a deadpan scowl. “Thank you, papa—“ “..yeah, it’s something about the way you slobber when you’re snoring all loud that’s just so..sexy.” Mockingly chewing at his lip and narrowing his eyes. “Please, go to hell.” Tossing a nearby roll of tissue in his direction before he shielded it with a pillow. “I can’t yet. But I can go to Krispy Kreme. You want something?” It was official, you were locked in for the long haul with this man but you wouldn’t want it any other way!

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 4 months

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lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! | f. odair

masterlist

anon's request: noo bc i've been thinking about this for a while (all the time) imagine the reader from district 8 who's with finnick always sewing random fish patterns into his clothes or any cloth-related items bc of his district!!!

warnings: just some cutesy fluff, very very mild suggestive themes

notes: i couldn't not write this request it's so cute. very rushed because i've got another fic in the works ;) stay tuned my beautiful readers <3

word count: 800

Finnick would always invite girlfriend!reader to District Four because this man has major attachment issues, so you practically live at his house and are both attached to the hip. And one day he would find this little lionfish embroidered onto the cuff of his favourite sweater, which oddly resembles the colour of his hair.

His first instinct would be to call out to you. "Sweetheart?"

And you would respond with a "Hm?" from another room in the house, sneakily sewing something onto another item of his clothing. He would be curiously inspecting the little creature that had taken up residence on his shirt as he padded through the house to your whereabouts.

Just as he entered the room you were in, he would begin, "Why is there a—"

He'd cut himself short as he looked up and saw you sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, legs tucked beneath your body, a soft, knitted blanket draped over your lap, and a sewing kit lying on the side table. In your hands were a pair of his pants.

One of his eyebrows raised. "You've got my pants."

You looked up to find him standing in the doorway. "I do," you replied.

He took a step closer. "And you're sewing them."

"I am."

Another step. "And there's a fish sewed onto my sweater..."

You simply smiled at him—an adorable proud little smile. God, you looked so cute he genuinely felt to urge to lean down and pinch your cheeks between his fingers, but then he remembered he was your boyfriend, not your grandmother.

"Not that I'm not in absolute awe of your sewing abilities but—" He chuckled, shaking his head— "why?"

You shrugged, piercing a sewing needle through the waistband of the pants in your lap. "You're from District Four; fishes are kind of your thing, are they not? Plus, it's pretty," you said, then your voice lowered to a soft murmur. "Like you."

His stomach fluttered and he almost giggled like a little girl at your words. Once he got close enough, he kneeled beside the chair you were sitting in, watching as your delicate fingers manoeuvred the needle and yarn into the outline of a seahorse. He smiled to himself.

"Do you think I should start weaving clothes for you? Considering your district's all about making clothes and stuff," he said with a smirk.

"Like a dress made out of netting? It wouldn't leave much to the imagination."

"You won't hear this mouth complaining," Finnick said, the image of you walking around the house clad in a black net dress overcoming his mind.

Your cheeks warmed with a horrible blush and you decided to focus your attention entirely on the seahorse in the effort to overcome the sudden lewd thoughts involving his mouth.

Finnick continued watching in amazement as you managed to turn a few colours of yarn into a beautiful seahorse on the waistband of his pants. He wondered how many other pieces of clothing of his you had managed to infiltrate with various sea creatures. When his eyes caught on a bright blob of colour on the underside of the shirt sleeve he was wearing, he smiled, knowing he had gotten his answer.

His gaze flickered back to you, observing the look of concentration on your face as you sewed—the gentle crinkle of your furrowed brows, the subtle curl of your lips, and every now and then, the small twitch of your nose like that of a bunny, the pink of your blush adding to the image.

He couldn't help but prop his folded arms on the arm of the chair, chin resting on his forearms as he shamelessly and blatantly admired the changes in your facial expressions. He noticed as your eyes began to occasionally flicker toward him, your attention increasingly beginning to drift.

A few minutes later, you exhaled a heavy sigh. "You're so distracting."

"You're so adorable," he replied almost dreamily.

There it was again. The humiliating pink flush of your cheeks.

He grinned, humming a quiet laugh as he rose to his feet to plant a kiss on the top of your head.

"Can I make one request?" he asked.

"Perhaps."

His eyes fell to the lionfish on the shirt in his hands, eyes sparkling with child-like joy. "Sew some of these onto your own clothes so we can match."

A wide smile stretched across your lips.

Within the next week, you and Finnick were a giggling mess, sporting matching sweatshirts embroidered with big blue dolphins, each one's blowhole featuring a small red heart just above.

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #mockingjay part 2 #sam claflin

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residentinsomniacartist · 1 month

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wait wait wait guys have you ever thought about how the Mighty Nein are everything they shouldn’t be upon first glance

no no guys guys listen to me they’re all the antithesis of what they’re meant to be and that’s why they’re such amazing and heartfelt characters

like, Caleb is a wizard who’s afraid of his own fire magic. his own power causes him to falter in battle. his strongest spells are his most dangerous to himself. wizards are supposed to be prideful of their magic, but Caleb’s is the reason he hates himself

Beau is a monk who never wanted to be. her job is one that people normally associate with being calm and collected and Beau was a wild rebellious kid who got dragged into this line of work against her will. she never wanted to be this!! but now she is and she’s gotta deal with it!!

Fjord is a warlock who never wanted power from his pact, which is why you’d think a warlock would make their pact at all. but no. Fjord made his pact because he wanted to live, not because he wanted power. he was a scared orphan who hated his tusks, not a buff, muscled, angry half-orc like people assumed

Nott is NOT, that’s the whole crux of her narrative! she wasn’t pretty, like a halfling girl was supposed to be. she wasn’t a goblin, she was just transformed into one. and not only that, but despite being a three-foot-tall alcoholic kleptomaniac, she’s the mom of the group!

Jester is a Cleric whose god isn’t actually a god and who would much rather bash bad guys over the head with her lollipop than have to stop and heal her friends!! she’s a bubbly, optimistic ray-of-sunshine, but you know when she says she’s gonna change the world with friendship she means it as a threat

Mollymauk is an amnesiac, but he doesn’t want to remember who he was. if you ask him, that wasn’t him! he might be a flirtatious hedonistic carnie, but he’s also single-mindedly devoted to making the world a better and more loved place than it was when he found it. he’s a liar, but he means well. he’s an arrogant fool, yes, but he’s right! he did it! he left it better!

Caduceus seems like he’d be creepy and grim from growing up in a graveyard, but he’s actually the most chill out of the entire Nein by far. he’s calm, he’s sweet, and he’s comforting, more than anything else. you’d think he’d be amazed by seeing the outside world for the first time, but he spends the whole time knowing that one day he’ll return home, that he wasn’t supposed to be the one to leave

Yasha is a barbarian with skeletal wings and a dramatic, monochromatic look, but she’s a complete sweetheart. she’s Molly’s best friend, she was a carnival bouncer, she’s a lesbian disaster who collects pressed flowers in a book out of love for the wife she lost. those black wings were actually hiding soft white feathers

Essek was born straight into the den of politics, he was a spymaster, he literally started a war for his own gain, and yet. he’s sounds irredeemable on paper, but. he’s not!! sure, the Nein kind of have to drag his alignment kicking and screaming into neutral, but they manage it. Essek learns and grows and he overcomes his nature. he becomes good, against all odds

guys guys guys don’t you see it!! look at them!!they’re such compelling characters!! they’re everything they’re not supposed to be!! dude y’all how didn’t I realize this earlier!! they subvert their narratives in the most interesting ways ever and I justhshsbhshshsjnsmshsnhsfn!!

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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 17)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,902

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

There’s a knock on your door and it’s the one time you’re thankful that Rhysand has taken Feyre out on a date.

Your heart thuds uncomfortably fast in your chest and your hands shake with nerves as you smooth them across the skirt of your dress one last time.

After you had parted ways with Lucien at the coffee shop yesterday, you’d taken a solo trip to the mall to search for something to wear to the opening of Azriel’s exhibition tonight.

After trying on too many dresses to count, you had settled on this one, black and elegant, the fabric clinging to your curves in all of the right places. The store employee had halted in her tracks on her way through, as you stared at yourself in the full length mirror, contemplating whether it was too simple, or too fancy for the event.

The woman had been overcome with emotion, complimenting you so many times that you weren't even sure how to acknowledge her gushing after the plethora of nervous thank you’s you’d offered in response.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous. Azriel has made it clear that he’s not trying to impress you tonight, and you shouldn’t be trying to either, but you want to look nice for the occasion anyway. This is a real exhibition, not put on through the art school, and it’s the first you’ve been personally invited to, by someone you like or not, and you wanted to be dressed appropriately.

You’d done up your hair in a simple, yet elegant style. Your makeup accentuates your staggering beauty, matching the dress, and you’ve slipped into a pair of black kitten heels, low enough to be considered appropriate for the occasion, but tall enough to give you that boost of confidence.

Overall, you look smoking hot.

But you’re still facing nervousness as a knock on the door sounds again. It’s gentle, not impatient like you’d expect Azriel to be. He’s promptly on time, seven thirty just like he said he would be, and you have been ready for fifteen minutes, making sure you were punctual as well as not to piss him off.

With a last breath, you open the door.

It’s Azriel, of course, and the sigh you were in the middle of releasing wooshes out of you with force as you drink him in.

You know that he’s a handsome man, shockingly so, but tonight he looks like a god. He’s wearing simple black trousers with a matching black button-up, the top three buttons undone to show off the tips of the tattoos across his collarbones and his golden skin.

His hair is clean and brushed, and it looks like he may have taken a pass at it with a bit of gel because it’s perfectly set in a naturally tousled look.

He looks incredible. Good enough to eat.

In your trance, you hadn’t noticed that Azriel had fallen into a similar one, golden eyes going molten at the sight of you in your dress. You don’t see the way that his heart picks up in his chest, how his fingers curl into fists to stop himself from reaching out because they’re stuffed deeply into his pockets.

Shaking yourself from your stupor, you clear your throat lightly, trying to dispel the tightness lingering there.

Azriel blinks once, twice, and his eyes meet yours again.

“You look…” he trails off, eyes dipping down again. He needs you to turn around so that he can get a full view of you, but he shoves that thought from his head as quickly as it enters. “Yeah,” he finishes awkwardly, lamely. He wants to punch himself, because your cheeks go red.

“Uh, thanks, I think,” you respond softly. You don’t invite him in because you’re still too stunned to say anything more. Of course, Azriel looks amazing in his normal t-shirt and jeans, but seeing him dressed so smartly has something warming in the pit of your stomach.

“Don’t overthink it, princess,” Azriel continues, schooling himself back into his stoic self. “Are you ready to go?”

You nod, “Let me just grab my bag.”

Azriel waits by the door while you turn and now he has the entire view. The back of your dress is low, showing off the length of your spine. It curves around your bottom like a fucking peach and it’s difficult to force his eyes away from the sight of you like this, but he manages, shifting on his feet as his cock twitches in his pants.

You lock your apartment door and follow Azriel down the hall. You can see the muscles of his shoulders straining against the fabric of his shirt and you wonder if that’s why he hadn’t buttoned the top buttons of his shirt, because they’d surely burst. Your gaze travels lower, into betrayal territory, and you bite your painted lip at the sight of his taut waist and tight ass.

Good enough to eat, indeed.

“Elevator or stairs?” Azriel asks you as you approach the end of the hall. There had been a maintenance team who had been working on the elevator after you’d been trapped within its metal confines, and it is now back up and running. You haven’t been on it since yesterday morning, and you’re still feeling a little weary of it, so you opt for the stairs.

Azriel slows his pace as you carefully make your way down the stairs in your heels. They’re not tall, but the dress is snug around your calves and ankles, and you really can’t trip up not only because you don’t want to embarrass yourself, but because you don’t need to give Azriel the ammunition.

“Are we taking your bike?” you question as you reach the lobby landing. You pause for a moment to tug your dress back into place. You wince. You hadn’t thought about trying to wear a dress on his bike. “Because I don’t think I’ll be able to get on it in this.”

Azriel thinks that he could help you out of it, and he doesn’t dare look at you as he pulls out a pair of keys from his pocket, showing them off. There’s a few keys attached to the ring, along with a fluorescent keychain with the words ‘getaway car’ scrawled in bright ink.

“We’re taking Cassian’s car,” Azriel says, holding the front door of the building open for you. “If that’s alright.”

“More than,” you exhale thankfully, shoulders relaxing their tension. You hadn’t wanted to start an argument this early in the night, and thankfully Azriel has been nice enough to accommodate you.

He seems so unlike the Azriel that you know that you almost ask if the real him has been abducted or something because he’s opening the passenger door for you, telling you to mind the rust and hole in the floorboards, waiting for you to put your seatbelt on, and shutting the door behind you before making his way around to the driver’s side.

“Cass staying home tonight?” you question, breaking the silence. The vehicle had started up with a rough cough, and the ride is bumpier than you remember it being the first time you were in it, but you’re sure you’re being hyper aware of everything right now because you’re nervous.

Azriel shrugs. He’s tapping his fingers nervously against the steering wheel and you can’t help but to stare, noticing each groove and patch of marred skin. The beauty of something so torturous happening. You still don’t know what it is that caused that scarring, but for him not to let it stop him from creating his art, you’re in awe.

“He lets me use his car sometimes, if I let him use my bike.”

You raise a brow in shock. “You really trust him on that thing?”

Azriel huffs a laugh and your heart stutters. He glances at you and your heart completely stills at the gleam of amusement in his golden eyes. “I trust Cass with my life.”

The rest of the short ride is silent, except for the loud sounds of the hardly running Bronco and the tires against the road seeping in through the hole in the floorboards between your feet. If it’s because Azriel is nervous, you don’t know. You don’t know him well enough to know his tells, but he’s still tapping along the steering wheel. Otherwise, he is as cool as a cucumber.

You, on the other hand, are stewing in your nervousness. You’re feeling jittery, on edge the closer and closer you get to the building Azriel’s exhibition is being held in. It’s not far from your apartment, but each rotation of the tiers closer sets your teeth on edge.

You know that this means nothing. Joining Azriel tonight isn’t anything more than someone not wanting to be alone. You know that he doesn’t care much for your opinion, he had made that clear yesterday in the elevator, but with the attention on him all night, there’s bound to be some on you as well.

On the other hand, it feels like more than just an event he needs someone to attend with. The mere twitching of his fingers gives away how important this night is to him. You can’t help but to wonder why he hadn’t invited Rhysand of Cassian, if he trusts them with his life. Why wouldn’t he want to share such a moment with them? And why bring you?

Azriel rolls the car to a stop between a packed, well-known restaurant and a jewelry store. Flanked by each store is an elegant, sleek looking gallery. The outside is covered in black marble, and the lighting looks expensive and bright, the sign above the door reads ‘Opulent,’ in large black letters.

The front matches the name.

There are black curtains pulled down across the large windows beside the door. They must be pulling them open later in the night or even later in the week when the exhibition is open to the public.

You turn, looking at Azriel who is staring out the front of the car, hands twisted tightly together in his lap.

In a move of confidence, you gently place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches and you watch him try to cover it up, but it’s too late, you’ve already seen the pain flashing across his gaze. You rip your hand from him as fact as you can.

“You ready?” you ask, and you don’t like the way your voice trembles a little.

Azriel nods once, then again, firmly. “Yeah.”

He opens your car door for you once more and allows you to find your footing before he’s locking up behind you. There’s a bit of a breeze now that the sun has dipped down behind the large buildings and you shiver a little, more so when Azriel places a warm hand at your lower back to usher you inside.

His skin doesn’t breach yours, touching only the sliver of silken fabric just above your ass. His palm is a heavy weight against you, and the mindless rubbing he’s circling his thumb in has your knees wobbling a little as you walk, warmth stirring to life in the bottom of your gut.

Your breath catches in your throat so harshly you nearly choke, stepping inside of the well lit area. The gallery is empty of patrons, but filled with art. The most beautiful charcoal drawings you’ve ever seen line the walls. Most of them are drawn on large canvases, bigger than your torso, and you can instantly tell how much work has gone into the creation of them, because they’re simply breathtaking.

“There he is,” a man greets with a broad smile. You tear your gaze from the artwork on the walls as Azriel gently nudges you further in the door. You blush, not realizing that you’d stopped in your tracks upon seeing the gallery. You don’t know where to look, it’s all so beautiful, but you politely drag your gaze to the man headed your way despite wanting to stare at all of the artwork. “The man of the night! And who is this lovely lady?”

His voice is rich and deep, much like the color of his upswept eyes, glowing bright with excitement. He approaches you and Azriel, patting the artist on the arm as if he knows that he doesn’t favor shaking hands or hugging. You watch, waiting to see if Azriel flinches like he had in the car when you’d rested your hand on him, but he doesn’. There’s a tightness to your body and an edge to his jaw that tells you he might have anticipated the move, as he eases slightly once the man’s hand is removed from his arm.

“Thesan, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Thesan. He is the owner of Opulent.”

“(Y/N),” Thesan greets you with a firm handshake and a knowing look in Azriel’s direction. He rolls his gold eyes in response as Thesan turns back to you. “So nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” you smile softly in response. You don’t know why Thesan had given Azriel that look, and you’re not sure you’re going to find out because Thesan is whisking Azriel away, talking of some loose ends that need finishing up before the doors open to the show in fifteen minutes.

“Are you going to be okay out here while I go with Thesan?” Azriel asks you, and it’s almost jarring, how polite he is tonight. When you wave him off with a nod, he continues, brows furrowed a little like the thought of leaving you alone bothers him. Perhaps he’s worried you’ll do something to his art. A blasphemous thought. “I will only be gone for a few minutes. Feel free to look around if you like. I’ll bring you a drink on my way back.”

“Thank you, Azriel,” you answer, and his gaze lingers before he turns away, leaving you and his exhibition alone.

You look around at the empty gallery, unsure of where to start. The only sound throughout the space is the clacking of your heels on the floor. You refrain from pulling out your phone and texting Feyre and spilling the entirety of your night. You’re so nervous you hardly even know what to do with yourself. You feel awkward, like an imposter as you decide to start nearest the entrance to the street, keeping a few steps away from the large drawing lit brightly on the wall.

The piece before you is so dark you can hardly make out the forms. The entire canvas is black with deep sweeps of charcoal, only light areas have been reigned in by an eraser. You stare at it for a minute, two, allowing the painting to speak to you.

It feels lonely, despairing, almost, and the next one you move to is an angry stroke of work, lines thick where Azriel had clearly pressed harder into the rough canvas as he drew. A canister of something spilling across the floor in waves. Two eyes ripple in the reflection of the liquid, no, there are four, their pupils malignant and cruel.

The image sends shivers crawling up your spine.

Each piece is more beautiful than the next. You find yourself both enthralled and rushed, wanting to spend as long as you want in front of each picture while you have the room to yourself, rushed because you want to see all of the work before others arrive.

The charcoals become lighter, happier as you follow the path that you’re walking around the room. In the center, well lit and clearly the centerpiece of the collection, is a canvas that you’re not entirely sure could fit in through the front door of the building.

It’s titled ‘Not an Accident’ as per the plaque beneath the canvas. As it towers over you on the wall, you feel small, glued to your spot, throat thick and eyes prickling with tears as you scan the work, absorbing its utter, raw beauty.

A pair of hands, clenched together like they’re praying. Each finger presses into each other in a desperate way, as if seconds away from clawing through the skin. One is perfect. Smooth, clean skin, while the other is marred, so familiar that it makes your throat ache.

The skin of the second hand is puckered and ruined, tortured by something great, something that will always be carried, by both memory and sight. It’s Azriel’s hands, you would be able to recognize them anywhere, and the smoothed skinned one must have been what his hands looked like before whatever accident happened. It’s strong, healthy, fingers calloused with life. The other is tender, fresh skin pulled tight over jutting bones and weak muscle.

A tear escapes the corner of your eye, but you don’t wipe it away.

This artwork is a harrowingly beautiful sight.

You hear the soft footfalls of Azriel moving closer, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the masterpiece in front of you.

He strides up beside you, looking up at his work.

“Are you ready for the event to start?”

You nod, wiping the lone tear that has escaped. You don’t think Azriel notices.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I think I am.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist P.1: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @homeslices @quinzzelx @carlandonorri-s @juniper-july19 @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho

(some of you couldn't be tagged, please make sure the option to be tagged is on!)

#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #artist!azriel #tattoo artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

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daintcas · 1 month

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lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !

"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy

pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader

summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.

contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger

the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.

it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?

you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.

you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.

she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.

all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.

with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.

a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"

"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.

"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.

"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.

throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.

the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.

the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.

"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.

"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.

the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.

moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.

between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.

you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.

"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.

"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.

the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.

"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.

"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.

"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.

"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"

you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."

he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."

a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.

you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.

"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.

"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.

you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.

he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."

you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.

he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.

snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.

the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.

finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.

rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."

that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.

it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.

"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.

but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.

it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.

"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.

a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.

one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron prompt

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caraphernellie · 4 months

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thank you for the venom // e.w.

summary: suffocating in a small religious town, drowning in your own misery, your own thoughts in which you were led to believe are dirty, disgraceful, unholy - where else can you turn for support other than the church? where else would you want to turn to, when ellie williams, so knowledgeable of the beliefs and teachings of the church, is there to take care of you?

a/n: oh god please don’t hate on me for this 🙏 here’s preacher!ellie. don’t come at me i have religious trauma and am also a big mcr fan so obviously. i am so nervous to post this. i cannot stress enough if this is not ur thing do not read it lmfao. closing my eyes and posting this i wrote it ages ago i dont even remember what it goes like ive been too shy to post it. part 2 where they have rough sex in the church is coming eventually when i get over being shy about that one too. bye

word count: 3.7k (i know.)

warnings: preacher!ellie , fem!reader , religious imagery/references , internalised homophobia (both e and r) , christianity/catholicism , she is so blinded by internalised homophobia , dom!ellie , oral(r!receiving) , fingering(r!receiving) , tribbing , virgin!reader but not innocent , ellie’s actually nice and has good intentions she’s just clouded by religious trauma , sinning , definitely ooc but i tried to make it as 'ellie' as possible , use of pet names : sweet girl , sweetheart , angel , good girl , cutie

“you are aware of the three hail mary devotion?”

ellie looks down at you, kneeling before her by the altar. there’s something unreadable in her gaze. though she looks utterly sympathetic.

“each day, you can seek guidance from the lord by honouring the blessed virgin mary, and you will say three hail marys. you’ll begin each day with a saying.” ellie clears her throat, her gaze unwavering. not even a blink, eyes green as ivy almost sickening you. “i do this everyday myself. ‘o my mother, preserve me this day from mortal sin.’”

“thank you, ellie.”

“you understand that i can’t speak to the lord on your behalf. i am simply the preacher, i am here to provide you comfort and guidance. and i do promise you, if you continue to repent for your sins, god will always forgive. there will always be a spot for you in heaven should you continue to do the right thing. you can acknowledge that these… thoughts… are unholy.”

perhaps there was a reason, that instead of taking yourself to confession, you sought ellie out to ask for guidance, though leaving out a crucial detail. she is the object of your thoughts.

“if it consoles you,” ellie starts, “i have struggled with thoughts of this nature too.”

and like a record screeching, you pause, looking up at the woman. and what a woman she is – black turtleneck, which doesn’t at all hide toned muscles you wish you could see. black slacks, brown boots. shoulder length, auburn hair, and a freckled complexion. she is so respected amongst the members of the parish, always living her life in the holiest of ways, and never would you have thought someone as perfect as ellie williams could have thoughts of sin.

“what?” your voice shakes, and ellie tenses for a moment.

perhaps you could have seen this coming, how there’s often tension thick as a brick wall between the two of you. ellie’s mixed signals ever so confusing.

“sometimes these thoughts get the best of us,” ellie murmurs. she approaches you, and as you look up at her through your eyelashes, she furrows her brows, hardens her gaze. “i have asked god to help me overcome these thoughts. i have had these thoughts and feelings for a long time. yet i repent. you may never get to stop repenting for this. but showing remorse and asking the lord to forgive you is all you need to protect yourself from the devil.”

ellie williams, respected preacher. she devoted her life to the church, wanting to live a life of holiness to make up for those thoughts she couldn’t ignore.

your hands clasped together like a silent, continuous prayer to preserve your own self-control, you open your mouth to speak, when ellie cuts you off.

“i’m glad god brought us together, and caused us to cross paths. you’re a special girl.”

there’s a warm rush of blood going straight to your cheeks, a waver in your voice, and a feeling of deep appreciation pooling between your thighs. “i’m glad too. it’s very comforting… to know that i’m not the only one dealing with these kinds of thoughts. thank you for helping me, and for teaching me that i am not damned. i hope we can both find peace.”

ellie nods slowly, her gaze unfaltering as you rise to your feet. for a moment, you feel that you catch a hint of a different expression – a smirk, one that disappears within seconds. as though she puts on a facade. “we are all born into sin. what matters is that we believe, and we follow the word of god. he knows what’s best for us.”

“and he can lead us back on the right path,” you say, smoothing down your dress, a modest piece, knee length and long sleeved.

ellie is deep in thought when she mumbles her next few words. “in the meantime, i can help you with your sexuality.”

once again, a heavy silence falls over you both as the words hang in the air. ellie’s about to backtrack, when you tilt your head, and her cheeks flush red as wine.

“h– how so..?” you ask, eyeing ellie as she rubs the back of her neck. her signals constantly so mixed, you wonder how you’ve gotten this far. too far to turn back now. her sudden nervous demeanour tells you everything. ellie has her issues, and she is nothing like the perfect preacher everyone respects.

“as a preacher,” ellie says, chuckling in an awkward way, “i should be taking care of people in our town, helping them to overcome their struggles and grow their relationship with god stronger. you are part of that as well.”

and so there it is, the strict and god-fearing ellie back again.

“i’d like to invite you over to my home. to pray, and we can study scripture. i can teach you how to overcome this.” her bottom lip drawn between her teeth, there’s that nervousness again. something impure is implied, her eyes burning into your face for any trace of uncertainty, and in the case that she finds it, she’ll backtrack. “if you’re not interested, just say so.”

and at the thought of what the implications are, you find yourself nodding distractedly, gaze falling towards the crucifix hanging on the wall of the church, and you grow warm with shameful excitement. “yes, i- i can do that. is there a time that suits you, ellie?”

ellie smiles firmly, yet it doesn’t meet her eyes. as if she is having the same mental dilemma as you. “i’m glad. how about tomorrow, 7?”

“of course, i,- yes. i’ll be there. you’re just a walk down the street.”

“perfect,” ellie says, and finally that smile reaches her eyes, an almost teasing twinkle in them, a loving look that doesn’t feel the same as the love she shares with others. “wear something appropriate, alright?”

“uh-huh,” you hum, shrinking under ellie’s gaze, knees buckling.

“i’ll see you soon,” ellie murmurs, voice low. and before you turn to leave, her eyes glance over your body once more. and she doesn’t hide her expression this time. she likes what she sees.

you simply nod your goodbye. as you step down from the altar and bow to the tabernacle, you can feel her stare. you feel it as you walk all the way down the aisle of the church, late afternoon sunlight hitting the stained glass windows just right and casting red shadows over you.

✧✧✧

it’s impossible to make it through the next day. that night when you had left the church, you tried taking ellie’s advice. the hail marys, the devotion. but thoughts crept in, ellie consuming your mind in the most beautiful bittersweet memory. you couldn’t help but to picture what she could do to you, how she could worship you. and the guilt of it had you in tears only after you had came.

at 7pm, you walk down the street to ellie’s house.

and ellie opens the door, not even a greeting slipping past her lips before she speaks. “i like that dress on you.”

and she doesn’t know it, but it eased so much of your nervousness. that you did read the situation correctly. because if you had misread the entire thing, and showed up to ellie’s home in a dress you’ve grown out of, it would have been a certainly difficult situation to navigate. ellie said to dress appropriately. and to you, that meant an older dress that hugs you tightly in the right places, leaving your body looking supple and sweet for her taking.

and should ellie discover what’s underneath the dress, she’ll see just how appropriate you decided to dress for her.

“you look beautiful,” ellie murmurs quieter this time, stepping aside to let you into her home, the brown brick house seeming so inviting at this time of night, warm candlelight lit inside. as you walk in, ellie’s eyes dip down to your exposed thighs, the dress being that short.

“thank you,” you reply, taking a look around the house. dark wood, vintage furniture, candles, crosses everywhere. as ellie leads you to her living room, there are things you take note of that you hadn’t expected. gaming consoles, a dvd stand full of horror films. she doesn’t comment even when she sees your stare, and instead she sets you down on her couch.

“should we start?” ellie asks, a hint of a smile on her lips. “how about we start with a prayer?”

“alright,” you say with a nod, clasping your clammy hands together. ellie grins a little, and does the same, then begins to lead you both in prayer.

“lord, we know that we are sinners. please forgive us for experiencing unholy thoughts about other women, and please guide us to become more like you. please help us to watch our words and actions, and guard us against future mistakes and errors. thank you for sending your son, jesus, to die for our sins — and thank you for your forgiveness. In the name of your son jesus, we pray, amen.”

it’s like with every reminder of your faith, glancing around the room, looking at the red rosary hanging around ellie’s neck, or the bible laying on the coffee table, an insurmountable guilt builds inside you.

ellie eyes a crucifix hanging on the wall, then averts her gaze from it – she simply can’t keep her eyes from wandering to you.

“shall we study now?” ellie asks, voice husky as she reaches for the bible. “i can t–”

“ellie,” you say, eyes pleading with her. your hand meets hers, and you stop her from picking up her bible. “we both know you didn’t invite me here to study scripture.”

ellie freezes, flitting her gaze between your hands, the bible, and your eyes. she’s been caught out. perhaps nervous to make the first move, ellie had switched up again, afraid to do anything that wasn’t innocent, afraid to corrupt you. but the confirmation that you want what she wants is enough.

“no… no, you’re right. you’re not here to talk about scripture with me,” ellie mumbles, a nod accompanying it.

“then…” you begin, fidgeting with the hem of your little dress, tilting your head at ellie with a warm face and trembling legs, white knee high stockings clinging to your calves. “we should… then we should do what you invited me here for.”

a beat.

“are you sure?” ellie asks.

“ellie, i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this,” you say, “haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. so please.”

ellie takes one look at your pleading eyes and your bottom lip between your teeth, and she knows that she’s done for.

“come,” ellie whispers, standing and taking your hand. there’s a faint look in her eyes, and everything feels light and slow as she walks you upstairs, into the bedroom.

ellie’s bedroom is similar to the rest of her house, vintage furniture and low lighting. her queen sized bed is pushed into the corner of the wall. on the nightstand lays another bible, on the wall a cross and portraits she’s drawn or painted herself. there’s a bookshelf filled with mostly religious literature and scientific books about things like astronomy and space. an acoustic guitar sits by the nightstand.

“well,” ellie murmurs, lighting a candle or two on the nightstand, flicking off the main light in the room. she stands across from you, illuminated in a warm candlelit glow. “let’s not waste any more time.”

before ellie does anything else, her hand finds the rosary around her neck. her fingers find the crucifix and she lifts it to her lips, pressing a kiss against it like a silent prayer, one last apology to the god she’s betraying. your heart skips a beat, and within no time ellie’s got a hand on the back of your head, pulling you in.

teeth clashing, hands roaming your body, ellie kisses you like it was the only thing she was made to do in life. she presses her body close to you as her tongue pushes past your soft lips. you’re not quite sure where to put your hands at first, but they settle, cupping ellie’s cheeks to bring her closer. your soft moan is muffled by ellie’s lips, her tongue invading every corner of your mouth, nothing unexplored.

ellie’s hands slide down your body, one gripping your ass over the dress and the other cupping your boob.

pulling away only to catch her breath, ellie pushes you towards the bed, laying you down on your back and climbing on top to continue kissing. she nips your bottom lip with her teeth, every act so desperate, so full of a yearning finally being fulfilled.

she stops kissing you again, this time with her hands reaching for the zipper at the back of your dress. “let’s take this off, sweet girl.”

ellie’s voice is breathless already, and she pants softly as she struggles with the zipper for a moment, her brain moving faster than her hands. she finally manages it, and lifts the dress off you.

you’re quiet, as is ellie. you had anticipated there’d be a reaction to this, the matching set you chose. white and lacy, a bra and panties that match the stockings ellie admired earlier. but nothing could have truly prepared you for ellie’s reaction.

“you are divine,” ellie murmurs, her hand roaming down to your hips. she licks her lips, unable to keep her eyes off of how the bra accentuates your breasts, or how the panties hug your waist. her body language, all too clear of how she truly feels about you, does nothing but cause you to throb inside your panties. “do you trust me?”

the question throws you off. furrowing your brows, but offering a small smile, you reply. “of course i trust you, ellie.”

the soft tone of your voice entices ellie, especially as you take her hand and guide it to your chest, letting her squeeze you through the cup of your bra.

“what a beautiful sin,” ellie whispers, leaning down and attaching her lips to your neck. she’s careful not to leave marks that would be visible, but she squeezes your breast as she kisses and licks a trail down your neck, all the way to your chest.

ellie revels in your soft mewls, the way your thread your fingers into the hair at the back of her head, and hold her against you. her hand reaches behind you, grabbing at the clasp of your bra. and ellie bites down, sucking a bruise into the soft flesh of your breast, where she knows nobody could see it. you arch your back partly in pleasure, but mostly to provide her access to the back of your bra, and ellie pulls it off in no time. her eyes widen as your tits spill out, and she swallows thickly as she watches your nipples grow firm with arousal and the exposure to the air.

ellie’s hand cups your bare tit and squeezes as she brings her face up towards you once more, needing that touch of her lips on yours. her long fingers tweak your nipple, rolling the bud around as she kisses you with a growing passion, groaning into the kiss just as you whine quietly.

ellie chuckles as your hands press into her back, pulling her closer, hugging her and hiding your face away in shame. she kisses the corner of your lips, pausing to soothe you. “shh, let me take care of you. let me worship you, sweet girl.”

you ease your grip on ellie when she says that, and she smiles at you before leaning down. you shiver, feeling the cold metal crucifix of her rosary resting down against your stomach, earning a chuckle from ellie as she wraps her lips around your nipple. she sucks for a moment, then rolls her tongue over it.

ellie’s hand lays flat over your stomach, pinning you down to stop your restless squirming. she moves her leg between yours, her knee pressing a generous amount of friction against your panties.

“h… ellie,” you whisper, “have you done this before?”

ellie looks up at you, and with a grin, she nods. “i have. a long time ago.”

“oh my goodn–” you cut yourself off with a lengthy whine, ellie beginning to suck hickeys all over your chest, from one breast to the other. she gives your other nipple the same treatment, only this time her teeth graze it lightly, and your hand on the back of her head tightens the grip on her hair. “ellie…”

“shh,” ellie hushes you, beginning to kiss down your stomach. “you’re okay.”

your incessant squirming and writhing turns ellie’s grin wider, when she cups her hand over your panties and feels the soaking mess.

“that’s beautiful,” she whispers, her fingers tugging at the waistband now, “this all f’me?”

you nod eagerly, looking down at ellie from where you lay propped up against the plush pillows. any holy thought has left your mind, and it appears to be the same for ellie, who lays between your legs with a cheshire cat smile, stripping the panties down your legs.

“so pretty,” ellie hums, grasping at your thighs and pulling them apart. “tell me, you want me to touch you here?”

a nod simply won’t be good enough this time, and you know that, clearing your throat to speak up hoarsely. “yes, yes please, el… can y– mmff-”

ellie’s fingers rub over your cunt, two fingers spreading the folds, the touch burning hot and electrifying. ellie laughs, not meanly, but sympathetically. “barely touched you yet, cutie. so wet…”

your lips turn down into a pout that makes ellie smirk, and she leans close, leaving a kiss on your throbbing clit.

“c’mon, don’t pout at me,” she whispers, another kiss following the words. “angel…”

you shudder, and then a loud moan escapes your throat as ellie’s tongue flicks out, beginning to lap at you. your body’s responsiveness leaves ellie with so much confidence.

“ellie, ellie,” you mewl, reaching a hand towards her. “ellie, it’s so– mmm…”

ellie reaches her free hand towards you, letting you grab it and intertwine your fingers. she gives a gentle squeeze as she licks a stripe down from your clit to your entrance, then back up again.

ellie can’t get enough of you, of your saccharine taste, staring up at you with blown out pupils as she sucks and laps at you. one of her bony fingers dips into your entrance, and ellie herself groans at the feeling of you clenching around it, but the sound you make is so rewarding that she pushes her ring finger in as soon as she knows you can take another finger. her digits stroke in and out of your sopping cunt, leaving you a whimpering and whining mess.

“c’mon angel,” ellie murmurs against your pussy, “i got you, i got you. ‘s this good?”

you nod, squeezing ellie’s hand in a vice grip, hips bucking against her face eagerly. “ellieeeeuuhh, oh, oh my g–”

“don’t,” ellie warns, “don’t take the lord’s name in vain, and don’t bring him into this.”

“i– s-sorry,” you gasp out, tipping your head back, “oh, oh, ellie, i’m gettin’ close.”

“good girl,” ellie murmurs, keeping the fast rhythm of both her fingers and tongue. “gonna be good and cum f’me?”

“yea, yea,” you say in a breathy voice, more moans leaving your lips, “ohhh, mmfuck, f-fuck, ellie.”

ellie’s ruining you, reduced you to nothing but babbles and moans. you buck your hips up more, rutting fast against her face, and that’s when you hit your peak. with a shriek of ellie’s name, you cream on her fingers, covering them with your slick, allowing them to stroke in and out even quicker.

ellie rides out your orgasm, slowly pulling away when you’re finished. she peppers kisses along your shaking thighs, leaning up to catch your lips in a kiss.

“good, sweet girl?” ellie asks, kissing the top of your head. you nod – but ellie isn’t finished with you, apparent as she begins unbuckling her belt.

“mmm,” you hum, “‘s perfect.”

“alright, angel, c’mere,” ellie says, stripping down to nothing. she sits by the headboard, pulling you onto her lap, hooking a leg over you. “you’re doin’ so good, you know? think you were made to please. good at taking what you’re given.”

“only because i want it,” you say in response, which has ellie chuckling. she grips your waist, grunting when her cunt makes contact with yours.

“good,” ellie says sternly, “because– shit.”

ellie loves how you keel over and press your nose against her neck because of the way your sensitive pussy rubs against her own. she tightens her grip on your waist, fingernails leaving little crescent moon marks in the plush skin as she begins moving you, groaning and moaning at the way your clit bumps against hers. she moves her own hips too, gasping your name.

you breathe soft whines into ellie’s neck, arms wrapped around her, hugging tight. it’s nothing but desperate now, your second orgasm approaching right in time with ellie’s.

“hnng, f-fuck, yeah, you gonna cum again?” ellie asks, squeezing your ass as you move against her. “good girl, cum, c– cum with me, cum with me s– fuck.”

ellie tenses up, hips moving fast to rub your soaking cunts together as you both cum. kissing your temple, ellie gently moves you off of her, running a hand through her damp and sweaty hair. “stay here angel, ‘m gonna clean you up, and we’ll cuddle then, okay?”

you don’t have much of a say in the matter regardless, shaking in the afterglow of ellie’s touch. she comes back moments later, looking a bit cleaner herself, carrying a wet washcloth. she begins to wipe you down, being extra careful around all of your more sensitive areas. she leaves kisses in the wake of her touch.

“you are beautiful,” ellie says in a firm tone. “the most perfect angel i’ve ever seen.”

you can only give ellie a half smile in response, and she drops the washcloth, leaning in and kissing you sweetly.

“don’t stress, you know why? because god always forgives as long as you’re willing to repent.”

ellie climbs into bed, pulling you close with an arm around your waist. she rests her chin on top of your head, a protective hold on you.

“why don’t we say another prayer before we go to sleep?” the preacher asks, tone almost uncertain. is she convincing you, or herself? “he’ll forgive us.”

tags: @dinasvampgf @fadedin2u @machetegirl109 @eurewili @craz1er4you @divinediors @onlinelesbo @thecowardwrites

i'm still trying to sort out my tag list!! it wouldn't let me tag some people. if you wanted to be tagged but weren't pls let me know so i can fix that <3

credits: middle pic in the banner is @switchbladekillerqueen <33 this pic inspired me to write this fic!!

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #tlou x reader #tlou2 x reader

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highvern · 1 month

Text

Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives.

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?”

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.”

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary.

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :)

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s.

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.”

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically.

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?”

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time.

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.”

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?”

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.”

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?”

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again.

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect.

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company.

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.”

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them.

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter.

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television.

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body.

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation.

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again.

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel.

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between..

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm.

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure.

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in.

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it.

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge.

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again.

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover.

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered.

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough.

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence.

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine.

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut.

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts burned into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing.

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight.

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing.

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day.

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door.

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live.

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat.

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior drowsiness transforms into irritation.

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy.

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man.

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.”

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.”

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra.

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head.

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came.

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair.

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago.

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway.

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet.

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently.

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.”

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes.

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy.

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch.

“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up.

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you.

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.”

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants.

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath.

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones.

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back.

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt.

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions.

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want.

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place.

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action.

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start.

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate.

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls.

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?”

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples.

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue.

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own.

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half.

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper.

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance.

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught.

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again.

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you.

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips.

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?”

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing.

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.”

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy.

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole.

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant.

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care.

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

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munsonhoneybaby · 9 months

Text

Sweet Leaf | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Finally starting to spend time with Eddie outside of your bedroom, everybody seems to know about the two of you but Dustin.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, eddie’s never-ending pet names, frequent drug use (marijuana), smut, lots of high sex in the whole series idk what to tell you lol, tiny bit of dry humping, eddie’s fishnet fetish?, skinny dipping, fingering, p in v (unprotected but he pulls out), sex in an empty parking lot, squirting, pretty heavy subspace, not angst but crying after sex, eddie’s a little fucknasty sometimes but he worships his lady, cheesy ahh ending

A/N: just two emotionally damaged stoners trying to figure out how to love each other, what more can i say? the length of this one just kept getting away from me lol i’ve loved writing this series and even though the main storyline is over i’d love to keep writing about these two if anybody sends in blurb/headcanon requests or anything like that !! i had plenty of little ideas i had to leave out !!

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

Eddie paused in the mirror, fixing the hair laying on his forehead. He fidgeted with his shirt, trying to get it to sit right on his shoulders– it was an old Kill ‘Em All t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of ages ago. He huffed and did one more frantic scan of his bedroom, hands fluttering uselessly at his sides as he was sure there had to be something he’d missed. Bed made, laundry done, and messes cleared away, his room looked cleaner than he’d seen it in probably two years. Deciding it wasn’t gonna get any cleaner in the next fifteen minutes, he dashed down the short hallway to double-check that the living room was spotless.

He’d draped the nicest blanket they had over the back of the couch and even specifically bought a few candles to light around the room just for the occasion. A few pre-rolled joints sat out on the coffee table alongside the selection of horror movies that Steve definitely didn’t let him sneak out of Family Video for free; he wanted to give you options, so he settled on The Thing, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, and The Evil Dead. He would have happily taken you to see a movie, maybe even a drive-in, but you’d said you’d rather it be just the two of you.

Three knocks sounded at the door, making him jump. You were four minutes earlier than he expected. Stepping to the door, he glanced around the room again and blew out a heavy breath before he opened it.

And there you were. Black shorts peeking out under your baggy Dio tee and a bag of snacks in hand from the gas station a couple miles off, you smiled at him. “Hi.”

Eddie couldn’t help his cheesy grin as he replied, “Hey.” Something about you was so enrapturing to him. He could have just stared at you, standing in the afternoon sunlight shining on his doorstep, forever.

“You gonna let me in?”

“Oh! Uh– right.” He moved aside, opening the door wider. “It’s not exactly the Ritz, but uh–”

“Oh, knock it off. I don’t care about that shit.” You looked around, taking in the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls. The warm light outside made the closed mismatched curtains glow. “I think it’s perfect.”

He cleared his throat to overcome the warmth in his chest before he spoke. “I got a few different movies if you wanna pick.”

“Ooh, can we watch The Shining? It’s been a little while since I’ve seen it, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Sure thing,” He nodded. As he turned on the TV and put the tape in the VHS player, you found a seat on the couch and grabbed a joint off the table to light up. While you seemed totally at ease in his trailer, he was as nervous as the first time he met you. First date jitters, he supposed. You looked so comfortable curled up and smoking in the corner of his couch that, as he settled at the opposite end, he couldn’t help but feel like you belonged there.

Your legs stretched into his lap as you scooted down a bit to pass him the joint. He rubbed his free hand back and forth along your calf absentmindedly. “I don’t know how long you were planning on staying– if you wanna stick around after this movie, I could make a frozen pizza and we could watch another or something.”

“Sounds good to me,” You hummed in return.

Forty-five minutes into the movie, the first joint was gone and Eddie was focused intently on the television screen. You started to get fidgety though, foot nudging against his thigh. “What’d you sit so far away for?”

“I dunno, just thought I’d give you your space I guess? I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“C’mere.” Pinching at his shirt, you tugged until he scooted himself to you. Your legs lay completely over his lap as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I don’t need space, I came here to be with you. It’s cute you’re taking this whole ‘first date’ thing so seriously, though.”

His cheeks flushed a little pink and he fiddled with his rings over your lap. “Sorry, I just– I want this to go well.” He laughed nervously as he continued, “I want to keep seeing you outside your bedroom, y’know? I want you to come to my shows, and I wanna take you to the diner, and I wanna kiss you goodbye after Hellfire sessions.”

You gave him a little smile, turning his face toward you to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I wanna do that stuff too, Eds. You know that you mean something to me, right? I just wanna go slow in the Dustin department. He has to be okay with this.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded instantly, “However you wanna go about it. I swear, I’ll even ask the little loudmouth for his blessing when you want me to. I mean, I love that kid too.”

For a split second you just took in his features, and those big, earnest eyes were impossible not to believe. The material of his shirt scrunched between your fingers as you drew his lips to yours again. “Thank you for being there for him. And for me. You don’t know how much it means.”

He brushed a strand of hair back from your face with a little smile. “I think I do, sweetheart.”

“Hey, so where’s your sister?” Mike asked, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She’s like…always home.”

“I don’t know,” Dustin frowned, “I guess she just told Mom she was going out. Maybe I should call Robin and ask if she’s with her.”

“Dude, she’s an adult,” Lucas shook his head slightly. “She probably doesn’t need you to check in on her, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But what if she isn’t?” As he continued, he paced the length of the basement, hands gesturing wildly with his words. “And what is she doing? ‘Going out’? What does that mean? Why is she trying to hide where she’s going? What if it’s somewhere sketchy?”

“You need to calm down,” Mike insisted. “It really isn’t that serious, she’s probably with Robin and Steve or something.”

“Right, so I should just call Robin and make sure!”

Lucas still rolled his eyes, but Dustin was already dashing up the stairs to the phone. “Great, now he’s gonna lose it if she’s not with Robin.”

“Where else would she be?”

“Literally anywhere, man. She could be at the record store, or with Nancy, or maybe with...”

“You don’t think she could be with Eddie–” But Mike was cut off by footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“She’s not with Robin, Steve, or Nancy which means I’m out of people to call which means I’m officially concerned. Do you think we should go out and start checking places? I mean, what if she smoked like– like– bad weed or something? I don’t know how that stuff works! Why wouldn’t she tell me where she’s going? She should know I’m worried sick!”

“Oh my god, would you relax? Did you talk to your mom?”

“Well, of course she thinks everything’s fine! She trusts us both implicitly when she obviously shouldn’t!”

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath before he looked at him. “I seriously think you’re overreacting. Like Lucas said, she’s an adult; she doesn’t have to tell you everything. She’s allowed to have a life.”

Having returned to his pacing, Dustin halted and looked at him with an offended expression. “Are you trying to say I’m clingy? I’m not clingy!”

“I’m not saying you’re clingy! I’m just saying that you do your own shit, she probably does her own shit too. Maybe she’s taking time to herself or maybe she’s out with a guy or something.”

“There’s no way she’s out with a guy. She would tell me if there was a guy! And where would she even meet a guy? Work? She barely talks to anyone, you guys know that!” Mike and Lucas shared a glance before looking in different directions.

“Look, if she’s not home in an hour we’ll go check a couple places, alright?” Lucas finally sighed.

“An hour? It’s already a quarter after nine!” Then they heard the front door close and Dustin was racing back up the stairs. There you stood, kicking off your shoes beside everyone else’s, a smile on your face that you were trying to bite back. Until your brother and his friends burst out of the basement. “And where on Earth have you been?”

You looked at him questioningly. “Enjoying my day off?”

“By yourself? Until nine-thirty at night?” He placed his hands on his hips, scanning you with a scrutinizing gaze. “What were you doing?”

“What’s with the third degree? I stopped at the bookstore, then I went out in the woods and read for a while. Is that okay, Mom?”

“Don’t condescend to me, you had me worried half to death!”

As you replied, you ruffled his hair. “Aw, well that’s very sweet, Dusty. I’m fine though, you don’t need to wait up for me.”

“See? We told you there was nothing to worry about,” Mike chimed. When he and Lucas gave each other another pointed look, however, he knew they’d both seen the faint hickey peeking out from your shirt collar that Dustin had apparently missed.

“Goodnight, boys. I’ll make you guys some breakfast in the morning, alright?” They all called back their own goodnights as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom and they made their way back into the basement.

Later that night you were dozing off, still dressed and on top of the blankets, when you jolted back to full consciousness at the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. Grumbling a little under your breath, you rubbed your eyes.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard the basement door creak open, and suddenly you were wide awake. At half past midnight, there was no way anyone other than Eddie was calling and there was definitely no way Dustin could answer that call. Increasing your pace to a slightly-panicked speedwalk until you were in the room with him, you just barely made it to the phone before him. You pressed the receiver into your chest to muffle your voice as you practically whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Dusty, it’s for me.”

“Who is it?”

“Nancy, she wanted to talk about what I got from the bookstore but she was busy with Robin and Steve,” You answered easily. He nodded and yawned out another goodnight before booking it back downstairs. Letting out a relieved exhale, you finally raised the phone to your ear. “Sorry, Dustin almost picked up. Everything okay?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby. Everything’s fine. I tried not to call, I swear I did, but–” He laughed a little embarrassedly, “Fuck, when can I see you again?”

“Eddie,” You whispered through a little giggle. “You had to call about that now?”

“I mean, I could always come over so we could talk about it in person instead,” He teased.

“I just left your place three hours ago.”

“Should’a just stayed the night, babe,” He sighed regretfully.

Clutching at non-existent pearls, you replied, “Stay the night? On the first date? Eddie Munson, what kind of girl do you take me for?”

“Of course, sweet thing, you’re right. You could never do anything so scandalous as sharing a bed with me before we’re really goin’ steady.” You could picture that smirk on his face as he spoke. “Guess that means we’ve gotta plan a second date, huh?”

“Guess so,” You hummed. “Have anything in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking,” He began slowly. “Maybe you could come to one of our shows? I know that’s not a super great date idea since I’m gonna be on stage pretty much the whole time and everything, but–”

“No, that sounds great,” You interrupted. “When’re you guys playing next?”

“Friday night at eight.”

“Alright, I’ll see you at The Hideout on Friday then.”

“Alright,” He cooed back playfully. “G’night, baby.”

Standing in front of your open closet, you rustled through all your clothes in indecision. “I don’t know what I should wear.” Nancy, Robin, and Steve sat side by side by side on the edge of your bed, peering into the closet from behind you. The latter opened his mouth to share an opinion but held his tongue as your younger brother leaned in your door.

“What’re you doing?”

“Uh– just trying to find something to wear, I’m going out later.” You shrugged off his question and continued shuffling through your hanging shirts.

“Again with this ‘going out’ stuff! With who?”

“Us,” Nancy interjected casually.

“Thought we’d go check out Eddie’s show at The Hideout tonight,” Steve added. “Show him some support since it’s usually just the drunks there.”

Dustin eyed you for a split second but seemed to move on from whatever suspicion he had toward you quickly. “Cool, I’ll let Mike and Lucas know. We were gonna hang at Mike’s, but we can all go to the show together instead.”

“You can’t come, Dusty. That’s not a kid-friendly environment,” You told him apologetically.

“What? Come on! We’re not kids, we’re in high school! We wanna see Eddie perform too, he’s our friend!”

“Oh, so now he’s just your guys’ friend,” Steve chimed. “Before, you were practically begging us to get along.” He stood and crossed the room to ruffle Dustin’s curls. “Seriously, dude, your sister’s right. This place is nothing but adults drinking, I doubt they’d even let you stay if you came in with us.”

“See? Your mother says no,” You confirm. “Sorry, Dustin, really. Maybe we could all do something together as a big group though soon, yeah? All of us and the Hellfire club. We could sit in on a session or take you all to the movies or something, okay?”

He paused, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his undone, patterned overshirt. “That’d actually be pretty cool. You’d do that?”

“Yeah, kid, it’s no problem.” You walked over to give him a side hug before nudging him out the door. “Now beat it, I’ve gotta get ready.” It took another minute or two of brainstorming before you decided to snag Dustin’s Hellfire t-shirt from his laundry basket– thank God you had just done his laundry for him. You thought it’d be the best fan attire since Corroded Coffin wasn’t exactly selling merchandise.

Once you were ready to go, Robin called shotgun as the four of you piled into Steve’s car. “Sorry that you guys have to tag along now, but you know how Dustin gets.”

Glancing at you briefly in the rearview mirror, Steve replied, “It’s no big deal. Sorry I told him you were going to see Eddie.”

“It’s fine,” You shook your head. “I wanna lie to him as little as possible anyway, I just haven’t figured out how to bring it up yet.”

“I know he wants you to, but you don’t always have to tell him everything right away,” Robin reminded you. “I mean, what were you gonna tell him– that you were fucking one of his best friends? He doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like you guys are actually together yet–” She was interrupted by a punch in the shoulder from Steve.

He gave her an incredulous look before Nancy took over, reaching over and squeezing your hand. “What she means is, you guys should take your relationship at your own pace and tell Dustin when you think the time is right.”

“Right, that’s exactly what I was gonna say,” Steve added.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.”

“What? I was!”

When you were finally standing in the parking lot of The Hideout, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Robin hooked an arm around your shoulders and started for the door. “Come on,” She drawled. “Let’s catch ‘em before the show starts, you’ll be okay.”

They weren’t hard to find, setting up on stage front and center. You could see Eddie kneeling down to plug in the amp until Gareth lightly hit his arm and pointed in your direction. A grin stretched across his face as his stare dragged over your frame, taking in your fishnets, short skirt, and Hellfire tee. He excused himself to the rest of the guys before jogging over to you. “Hey, I didn’t realize you guys were coming along.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Dustin found out where I was going and I didn’t want him to get nosy–”

“Are you kidding? This is the most sober people we’ve ever had in an audience, don’t sweat it.” He briefly squeezed your waist then let his hand settle on your back, fingers drumming impatiently. You looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t meet your eyes just yet. “I appreciate you guys coming, I know it’s not really your kinda music.”

Steve waved him off. “Nah, man, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Harrington.” His arm moved from your waist to your shoulders, “I’m gonna steal her from you guys for a couple minutes if you don’t mind. I wanted to show her some of the equipment.” Robin opened her mouth to make a smart remark but was stopped by another punch from Steve.

He guided you to a nook behind one of the walls in the far corner of the bar. Humming lowly, he cupped your face so you’d look at him. “You really dressed for the occasion, pretty girl. You look fucking incredible.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten my exclusive Corroded Coffin t-shirt yet, so I figured this was the next best thing.”

“My apologies, babe, I’ll get right on that.” He dipped his head to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.

“Somebody smoked a joint without me,” You teased.

With a good-natured smile, he rolled his eyes in false exasperation. “Sorry, should’a gotten here earlier. We can smoke all you want after, alright? Pothead.”

“What’s that thing people say?” You asked sarcastically. “I think it was something about a pot, maybe a kettle?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He laughed. A whistle from Gareth called his attention to the stage and he exhaled heavily. “Okay, that’s my cue. Wish me luck?”

“Like you need it,” You pecked his lips. “I’m really excited to hear you play. You guys are gonna do great.” Eddie smiled and stole one last quick kiss before darting back to the stage, leaving you to make your way back to the others.

“We may have taken the liberty of getting you a drink,” Steve said as Robin pushed a glass across the table toward you.

“I would be offended if you hadn’t.” Taking a few swigs, you looked over to where Eddie was finally settling the mic into its stand, his guitar hanging from his shoulder. They didn’t bother with grand introductions given the small crowds that gathered weren’t exactly there to see Corroded Coffin; they simply started into their set.

The boys mostly stuck to covers of semi-popular songs– sticking to their roots with Metallica and Black Sabbath, but appeasing the bar patrons with some Led Zepplin and a grudging Bon Jovi song. A few pieces they’d weaved in were their own and you could tell, but they certainly weren’t out of place. You could see where their inspiration came from.

You caught up with Nancy, Robin, and Steve between songs, but they mostly carried the conversation as you watched Eddie. Anyone really paying attention would be able to see that he was in his element. Sweat matted his bangs to his forehead, fingers moving masterfully over the strings as he powered through Trapped Under Ice with incredible accuracy. While you had heard the dramatic voices he put on during Hellfire, you hadn’t known that he could also mimic James Hetfield and Ozzy very impressively. He wasn’t perfect, but what little he lacked in refinement and precision, he more than made up for with passion.

The middle-aged drunks occasionally gave some muted applause for the songs they recognized, but otherwise ignored the free entertainment. He really was underappreciated here. In front of a real audience, you couldn’t imagine the kind of stage presence he’d have.

Over the next two hours, you worked your way through a couple drinks. You hoped the frequent crossing of your legs could be attributed to the short skirt you were wearing rather than your dwindling patience and self-control as you waited for Eddie to finish his set. When they finally wrapped up their last song, you made your way up to the stage. He was lowering the mic stand when you got to him, holding his gaze as you dropped a twenty in the guitar case in front of him. There were only a few other bills and some loose change inside.

“God, please don’t. Seriously, that’s insulting.”

“Are you kidding? That’s an investment. I expect it back with interest when you guys make it big.” He held a hand out to you as you joined him on the stage. “Really, I thought you were amazing. You’ll see when you get outta this place.”

He just gave you a small smile and brushed his thumb over your cheek, eyes sweeping over your face briefly before he took both your hands. “So I really do wanna hang with you, babe, but I absolutely have to move all our gear first. Is there any way I can convince you to stick around?” His lips dragged over your knuckles, leaving a few kisses as he spoke. “Have a li’l smoke sesh in the back of the van once it’s empty. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Your chest warmed at the attention he was lavishing you with in front of all of his friends– Dustin’s friends– and you tucked your chin a little bashfully. “That’s fine, Eds.”

“Awesome. We’re gonna finish loading the van, then you can ride with me to Gare’s to unload everything there, then I’m all yours. Cool?”

“Sounds good to me, rockstar.”

Holding your face in one hand, he squished your cheeks and shook your head back and forth lightly. “Always makin’ fun ‘a me, aren’t you?” He landed a kiss on your puckered lips and subtly patted your butt. “Go sit with your friends and I’ll let you know when I’m finished, okay? So glad I had my best girl cheerin’ me on tonight.”

As he went back to helping the guys pack up, you went back to Robin, Nancy, and Steve who paused their conversation when you sat down.

“Swooning already?”

“Somebody’s definitely looking a little starstruck,” Robin added. “Ready to ask him to sign your boobs?”

“The way it’s sounding, he might later,” You replied before taking a sip of your drink.

“I’m proud of you,” She nodded and took your hands dramatically over the table. “At least one of us is leading a successful love life. We will live vicariously through you.”

“Well then, let me know when we figure out how to tell our little brother that we’re dating his male mentor.”

“Wait, did Dustin say Eddie was his male mentor?” Steve interjected. “That’s so not true–”

Robin shook her head. “Steve, shut up.” She smacked your hand and nodded behind you just before you felt hands settle on your chair.

“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” Eddie’s rings clinked against the metal of the chair, his voice not far from your ear making your heart rate pick up.

“Yeah, you guys were great. We’ll have to come again sometime,” Steve replied.

Nancy politely asked, “How long have you been playing, Eddie? Some of those songs seemed pretty complex.”

“I started playing with the guys when I was in eighth grade, but I started teaching myself around sixth. So, I guess about…nine or ten years?” He shrugged, thumbs drumming against the chair.

“You’re really talented,” She commended.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” His hand shifted to your shoulder before he continued on playfully, “Your guys’ friend here gets a backstage pass though, which means she gets to come watch us unload equipment at Gareth’s mom’s house and smoke my weed.” He took your hand as you stepped down from your high-top chair, pushing it in for you and grabbing your purse as you said goodbye. “Thank you guys again for coming. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?”

Steve gave him a one-armed hug as he nodded, “Definitely, man.”

The two of you walked back to the van, hand in hand, your steps echoing in the mostly-empty parking lot. The others were already waiting in Gareth’s garage passing around a joint when you pulled into the driveway. You followed Eddie around to the back of the van as he opened one of the back doors. Gareth got up to open the other one, handing you the joint as he passed you.

“Alright, boys, think we can manage our fastest unload yet?” Eddie asked, cracking his knuckles.

“Yeah. As long as you don’t tweak your fuckin’ back again, old ass,” Jeff scoffed in return.

“Seriously, dude. Lift with your legs,” Gareth chimed.

Eddie made a talking motion with his hand and mumbled mockingly back before grabbing one of Gareth’s drums. “Start moving your shit or I’ll stop discounting your weed.”

“Oh, yes! Forgive me, master!” Gareth snarked, voice quavering with feigned fear.

They all got to work on moving the drum kit out first before moving on to the other equipment. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you took a hit and sat on the edge of one of the chairs they had out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I mean, there’s a fridge in the corner, you wanna grab a few beers?” Jeff asked, getting a grasp on one side of an amp.

Gripping the other side of the amp, Eddie gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude, did you seriously just send her on a beer run?”

“It’s literally the other side of the garage. Shut the fuck up and bend your knees.”

You grabbed a beer for everyone– except Eddie, who was stuck with cherry Coke until he was done driving– and passed them out when they were done moving the amps. Then, to kill some of the time, you sat in the van and packed a bowl to smoke with Eddie later. When the equipment left in the back started to dwindle, you, Jeff, and Barry made conversation while Eddie unloaded some of the lighter equipment with Gareth. Keeping his voice low, the drummer suddenly spoke. “You know you have to like– marry her, right?”

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie chuckled, though his face and neck warmed at the mental image.

Gareth jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in your direction. “Dude, she’s over there talking to your nerdy loser bandmates about Judas Priest’s influences on Iron Maiden’s first album. And she’s actually invested. You’re not gonna find another girl like that in Hawkins. Not to mention how you talk about her–”

“Alright, shut it,” He huffed. “Just help me get this shit out, it’s getting late.”

When the last of it was finally tucked away in Gareth’s garage, Eddie checked his watch and sighed. Eleven-thirty. “Damn.” Your conversation with the boys had drifted to your opinions on heavy metal power ballads when his hands settled on your waist. “Sorry that took so long, you ready to get going?”

“Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’ll see you guys later though, alright? We should really head out.” The three of them thanked you for coming and said their goodbyes before settling back into their fold-out chairs, presumably to keep getting fried.

You and Eddie climbed into the van and he started it up before looking over at you. “It’s not the first date anymore. Any chance I can convince you to stay the night?”

“No convincing needed. I didn’t know how late I’d be home so I already asked Nancy to cover for me if Dustin calls.”

“Wait, you really want to?”

“Of course I do. Will Wayne mind me staying there?”

“Oh, he wouldn’t care. He works the night shift and sometimes he works overtime, so he usually isn’t back until six or eight in the morning. And occasionally he’ll even stop for a drink with a couple guys from work and that could take ‘til ten,” He explained with a little crooked smile. “He’d love you, though.”

You noticed him freeze up a little as he registered his own words, so you took one of his hands and laced your fingers through his in your lap. “I’m sure I’d love him, too. He must be a great man if he raised you.”

He squeezed your hand lightly as he relaxed. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” There was a moment of quiet, just the low hum of the radio and the roar of the van until Eddie spoke again. “You wouldn’t wanna go to Lover’s Lake, would you?”

“Sure.” His hand settled on your thigh and your lips curled down as you repressed a little smirk. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Hey, I can be romantic,” He defended lightheartedly. “I just prefer places like these when they’re less populated.”

“Why? So you can smoke and have sex in them?” You asked with a joking scoff.

“No, I just like my privacy. It’s more intimate without a bunch of obnoxious people around.” He paused, then conceded. “But yes, I like to have a range of recreational activities to choose from. Is that so bad?”

You shifted your leg so his hand drifted further up your thigh. “You wouldn’t happen to be taking me there to do both, would you, Eds?”

“I’m taking you there to do whatever you wanna do, sweet thing.” His tone remained casual, but his hand slowly crept higher and higher. “We could lay down and look at the stars…Maybe go for a swim…” Goosebumps rose on your skin as his short nails dragged across it, fingers catching on the loops of your fishnets. “What d’you think?”

“We didn’t bring swimsuits,” You remind him.

“So?” He asked as he pulled into the small gravel lot hidden by the trees. Looking over at you with a smirk, he continued, “There’s no one else here.” He got out of the van and came around to open your door as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”

After grabbing a couple of blankets from the back of the van, he took your hand and lead you out away from the trees. You helped him lay out the blankets, crawling onto them and kicking off your shoes. Eddie lay down beside you and you looked over at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been out here at night. It’s really pretty.”

“Can’t believe you think so when you get to look in the mirror every day,” He shot back without effort, giving you that goofy grin of his.

Lightly smacking his arm, you fought back a big smile of your own. “That was terrible, you know that, right? That was actually so bad.” Your combined laughter sounded loud in the near-silent clearing of the lake; your voices were only accompanied by the constant chirping of crickets and the occasional owl’s hoot.

He rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he looked down at you. “You’ve gotta get used to taking my compliments, babe, even the corny ones. ‘Cause soon they’ll be comin’ non-stop.” You simply hummed in response, your hand finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to shift over you, arms on either side of you to support himself as his knee braced between your legs. Lips sticky with your lip gloss, his mouth made a path to your neck. “Y’really do look so pretty tonight, baby. Never seen you in a skirt before, I could barely pay attention to our set.”

“I thought you did amazing.” His hot breath on your neck made you squirm, grasping at his shirt as your hips wound against the firmness of his thigh. “Had me wet the whole time.”

“Fuck, wanted to get my hands on you so bad. Just performing had you all soaked for me, huh?” Your skirt rode up toward your waist until Eddie decided it was unnecessary, leaning back to yank it off. “Jesus H. Christ, fucking look at you.” Lying beneath him, fishnets stretched taut over your spread thighs leading up to your Hellfire tee, you were his fucking dream. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t a religious man but, at that moment, he wished he was because he felt like he needed to thank somebody for your existence. It was like every fantasy he’d ever had simply walked out of his head and into his life. “Seriously, I might need to take a minute.”

“Can you help me out of these while you do?” You ask, curling your legs up to your chest.

He guided one of them up to his shoulder, running his hand down your outstretched leg and eyeing the tights before he looked at you. “Am I in trouble if I say no?”

“If you take them off now without ripping them I’ll wear them for you again sometime,” You bargained teasingly.

“I’ll do it if you let me eat you out through them next time.”

You shoved lightly at his chest with your foot, trying not to laugh. “You’re such a freak.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but you could see he didn’t take the name to heart coming from you as his hips pressed into your ass. “Careful callin’ me names, babe. I’m starting to like it when you’re mean to me.”

“Pervert.”

He hummed, trailing kisses down the inside of your leg and finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of your fishnets. “Only for you, sweetheart.” His short nails scraped gently along your skin again as he carefully drew the tights down your legs. The second they were off, you sat up to pull him into another hungry kiss.

Deepening it, he started to ease you onto your back again but was shocked when you pulled away. With a coy smile, you asked, “How ‘bout that swim?”

Baffled, he was unable to come up with a response before you were standing and whipping your shirt off. His brain kicked back into gear when you dashed away from him toward the lake. Then he was running after you, fumbling to kick off his shoes and strip in the process. He froze as he watched you take off your bra and jump in wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding. Finally kicking off his jeans, Eddie dove in after you.

Attempting to wipe the water from your eyes, you looked around for him in the water. Just as he breached the surface behind you, though, he grabbed your waist and shouted. Your squeal broke into a fit of giggles as he squeezed your sides and pulled you into his chest. “You’re such a dick!”

“That’s what you get for bein’ a tease.” Staying close to shore, the water came nearly to his shoulders. He urged you to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands settling under your butt to hold you comfortably.

Arms settling loosely around his neck, you looked away pointedly, that mischievous little expression finding its way to your face again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, you don’t. ‘Cause the sweet girl I know would never do a thing like that, right?” He asked sarcastically.

You shook your head and answered in a falsely solemn tone. “Never.”

He chuckled softly until you leaned into him, nipples hardened from the chill of the water and pressing into his chest. Faint smiles never left your faces as you shared a few messy kisses. His hand rubbed soothingly up and down your spine while you pushed a strand of wet hair from his face. Swept off his shoulders, his soaked hair allowed you to see his whole face more clearly than ever. He started to feel self-conscious as your eyes drifted slowly over his features, taking him in, your thumb stroking over a spot beneath his ear that gave him chills. “You’re so handsome, Eddie.” He opened his mouth slightly like he was going to respond, but he couldn’t seem to think of anything so you changed the topic for him. “It’s nice here at night, we should come back again sometime when we don’t have any other plans.”

Eyebrows furrowing, he frowned in confusion. “What do you mean ‘other plans’?”

Untangling yourself from him, you faced him and swam backward toward the dock. “Hotboxing the van and having amazing sex, obviously. C’mon.” Climbing out, you held your arm tight over your chest as you snagged your bra off the dock and ran to the blankets still on the ground.

Eddie was close behind, picking up his trail of abandoned clothing. He started to apologize for the lack of towels, but you quickly waved him off and you both dried off as well as you could with one of the blankets. While you wrapped yourself in the dry blanket, he gathered your things with his to carry it all back to the car. “Go ahead and get in the back, I’ll start it up and get the music going.”

Opening one of the back doors, you found that the floor was already covered with other blankets. Climbing inside, you felt the van rumble to life. You could hear Eddie rustling through cassettes in his console as you peeled off your sopping-wet underwear and curled up with the pillows and blankets he’d put back there. The bowl you’d packed in hand, he finally joined you in the back. When he climbed in he paused to fidget with something you couldn’t see and suddenly the back doors were illuminated by little twinkling lights. He swung the door closed and tugged off his boxers before you asked, “When did you have time to do all this?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s all been back here for a little while. I just laid the blankets out in here when I grabbed the other ones to lay down by the lake.” He settled beside you, the top half of his blanket bunched in his lap leaving you free to ogle his tattoos– a favorite pastime of yours. “You want the first hit?”

You shook your head with a small smile, eyes tracing his features like they had in the lake. His hair was still heavy with water, but his forehead was hidden again and his curls were starting to come back. With nothing but moonlight, his eyes had looked black; in the glow of the fairy lights, you could see their warm cocoa-brown color again. His pretty lips formed an O as smoke billowed out of them. Their blushy-pink color nearly matched the flush on his cheeks, which you knew would spread to his neck and chest soon enough. He was beautiful, really.

He offered you the bowl and it stayed quiet, excepting the Master of Reality album playing softly, while you took a few long rips. You passed it back to him and let the silence continue for a moment before you finally said, “I’m gonna tell Dustin.” Unintentionally hitching in a breath, he choked on a throatful of smoke. The resulting coughing fit was so intense it brought tears to his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh as you rubbed his back. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you still leaned over the console to grab the bottle of water from the cup holder.

Taking a few swigs, he cleared his throat. “Okay, sorry,” He let out a big breath before he looked at you again. “You’re ready to tell him?”

“Yeah.” Too nervous to hold his gaze, you curled into his side. He welcomed you, of course, tucking his blanket around the both of you and kissing the top of your head. “I just feel like things have gotten…real. You try to take care of me in ways no one else has before and everything feels so easy with you– and honestly, both of those things scare the shit out of me ‘cause that usually means everything is absolutely going to go to shit…But you look out for my brother, and I feel like I can trust you, and everything we do together just feels so intimate…” You huffed embarrassedly and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I think Dustin deserves to know that I care about you so much.”

“That we care about each other,” He corrected you. Hand framing your jaw, Eddie made you meet his eyes. “I’m gonna be there with you when you tell him. I don’t want you to do it alone, we should do it together. I still have to get his blessing, right?” He added jokingly. Before you could say anything, he started to ramble a little nervously. “I feel like this is real. I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I’ve never had the chance to have anything serious before, but you…You’re all I think about now. That first day I met you, it was like I had this ‘Where have you been all my life?’ moment and you’re all I’ve wanted since, and I know that sounds really cheesy and dramatic but–”

Your mouth on his cut him off, which seemed to be a habit you were forming. He didn’t mind though, he’d been told to shut up in much less pleasant ways. When you pulled away, it was only enough to murmur, “I know the feeling.” Your nose nudging his was enough for him to keep it going, hand hooking under your knee and drawing you to straddle his lap.

The blanket slumped to your waist leaving your torso bare for his eyes and hands to wander. “You’re just so fuckin’ beautiful. My pretty girl, right, baby?”

Toying with one of his damp curls, you held his gaze as you agreed, “No one else’s.” At your answer, he pulled you in for a much more desperate kiss. His fingers pressed into your back while the others slipped beneath you to find you soaked, your chest flush with his as his tongue passed your lips.

He pressed two fingers into you easily, slowly massaging your g-spot until you were whining into his mouth. “Feels like you might not even need me to stretch you out, sweetheart.” Hips canting forward involuntarily, your clit ground into the thick base of his cock. Finally letting you catch your breath, he withdrew his hand from between you and looked down to watch how your slick spread on his skin as he rutted against you. “Mmm, gonna let me show you how bad I need you?”

You brushed his hair back from his shoulders as you breathily replied, “Condom?”

“Wallet,” He answered. Leaning over his shoulder to grab it off the console put you in the perfect position for Eddie to mouth at your tits, lips wrapping around one nipple while the roughened pads of his fingers found the other. You moaned quietly and tugged at his hair, but grabbed the wallet and rifled through it.

“Eds, there isn’t one in here.”

“Fuck. Glovebox, maybe,” He suggested.

Huffing impatiently, you began to wind your hips against his again. “D’you promise to pull out if I let you fuck me raw?”

He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Really– I mean, are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“Need to feel you now, Eddie,” You insisted.

“Alright, sweetheart, I promise.” He lovingly pecked your lips before grasping your waist, helping keep you steady as you slowly sank down on him. Fully seated in his lap, a gasp rose in your throat. “There you go,” He murmured comfortingly. “I know, baby, but you’re so good. Can finally feel how wet you really are. Takin’ me so deep.”

Your voice was nothing but a high-pitched, airy sigh. “Feel you everywhere.”

“S’Cause I’m made for you.” Your forehead rested against his as he continued. “I was made to fill you up, pretty girl.” His words provoked a pathetic moan from you, spurring you to lift your hips fractionally just to ease back down again. Supporting yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you tried to start up a steady pace, but your thighs trembled with every motion. The moans and whimpers you let out started to sound quiet and watery and it worried him, but the determined rocking of your hips never ceased. “You doing okay, baby?”

Not lifting your head, you sniffed frustratedly. “Need help, Eddie.”

“Oh, baby, why didn’t you say so?” He cooed sympathetically. “S’okay to need my help, c’mere.”

Arms around your waist, he guided you up and down on his cock at a careful speed until you were grinding down on him again. “Eds please, I need more,” You whimpered. Rolling his hips to meet yours, he didn’t hesitate to tighten his arms around you and quicken his pace. The way he was hitting every possible spot inside you had your eyes squeezing shut to keep them from crossing. Thighs trembling, you shivered as he rubbed and squeezed at them.

Eddie’s shoulders rolled back as he leaned against the console, hands running slowly over your hips and across your stomach to palm at your tits. “Look so pretty on top’a me, sweet girl. Might have to make you ride me more often.” His thrusts into you sped up, the console against his back giving him more leverage. One of your hands rested lightly on his lower abdomen to steady yourself but once his thumb found your clit, you were practically writhing in his lap. He rubbed it in firm, precise circles and felt you squeeze around his cock uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Can’t wait to feel you soak me for the first time.”

Something felt different than usual as that coil wound tighter in your stomach. It was hotter, like flames were crawling across your skin. It felt like your bones shook and your eyes swam with stars as you cried out his name. Your nails dragged down his stomach, those of the other hand doing the same to his thigh, trying to anchor yourself with your head in the clouds.

It wasn’t until the ringing in your ears cleared that you heard Eddie’s feral groans, making you look down. Everything was drenched; your thighs, his cock, his stomach, and his chest glistened wet in the warm lights. The sight made you register the sloshing sounds of your dripping wet pussy as he started to slow his thrusts enough to pull out. Arms enclosing around your waist again, he all but pinned you to his chest as he rutted between your stomachs. Lips molding to yours, he kissed you sloppily before his gaze wandered your body in awe. “Can’t believe you fuckin’ squirted f’me. Fuck–” Cut off by his own moan, his forehead fell to your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut, his hot spend painting both your skin and his.

After he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, he eased you onto your back, watching the filthy mixture of your come drip down your used cunt. “Eds, what’re you doin’?” You asked timidly as he lowered himself between your thighs, voice coming out in a barely-there squeak.

“Wishin’ I could take a fucking picture, sweetheart. I was gonna clean you up. Want me to use the blanket instead? S’okay if you’re too sensitive, especially after all that.” You nodded and he kissed the side of your knee with a smile as he grabbed the soiled blanket and quickly wiped himself off. Your legs flinched as he patted you dry and his eyes filled with concern as he murmured your name. “Did I hurt you? Did I do too much?”

“No,” You struggled to raise your voice above a mumble. “I’m okay, Eds, I’m jus’ all sensitive.”

“Promise me that’s it?” He asked, running his hands comfortingly over your legs. Pointedly avoiding his gaze, you huffed through your nose and your eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, c’mon, what is it? What’s the matter?”

You answered him in a whimper, sniffing back tears every few words. “I jus’ made a mess ‘n I’ve never done that before ‘n now everything’s all yucky–”

“Aw, baby,” He chuckled through a sympathetic pout. Lying down and drawing you to his chest, he wiped your tears and kissed your forehead. The two of you curled up under one of the clean blankets. “Nothing’s yucky, sweet girl. Just gotta wash the blankie, no big deal.”

“But ‘m still all sticky,” You pout up at him. “C’n we take a bath when we get home?”

“Home?”

“Your trailer, Eddie,” You whine. “Wanna take a bath.” Lids heavy with exhaustion, your eyes slowly fluttered closed repeatedly before they’d snap open again.

“You’re so sleepy, sweet girl.” He brushed your hair back from your face. “Think you can take a little nap back here while I drive us home?” You nodded dreamily but still clutched at him whenever he tried to get up. “I know, baby, just twenty minutes and we can take a bath. Okay?” When you finally conceded, he tugged on his jeans and made the short drive home.

Once you were bathed and dressed in nothing but a borrowed Metallica t-shirt, he tucked you into his bed before crawling in beside you. You dozed off easily with your head on his chest, but he stayed up just a little while longer. Palm rubbing circles on your back, his lips ghosted over your forehead. “I love you, baby,” He whispered almost silently. Closing his eyes, he focused on the feeling of your heart beating against his side, counting them like a child would sheep until he fell asleep.

The next morning, you woke up first, Eddie’s arms around you and his chest molded to your back. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help your tiny smirk as you registered the feeling of him squeezing at your tit, his even, heavy breaths against your shoulder telling you he was fast asleep. Slowly rocking your hips back, you bit back a laugh when it made his grasp tighten while he nuzzled into your neck. He rutted against you, half-hearted and arrhythmic in his unconscious state. It wasn’t until you reached back to hold his hip and grind directly against his cock, separated only by his boxers, that he finally grunted himself awake. “Mmm, g’morning t’you too, gorgeous.”

“You’re a perv even in your sleep, you know that, Munson?”

He mouthed at your neck with a sleepy grin, “I could’a told you that. How’d you know I was dreamin’ about you?”

“Well, your right hand was my first clue.” You pointedly ground your hips into his again and looked back over your shoulder at him, “Wanna guess my second?”

“Can’t help but get ideas, babe. You’re sleepin’ in my bed, in my shirt, no panties…” His fingers walked a path down your stomach, stopping just after your belly button. “Promise I kept my hands to myself, though– while I was awake, anyway.”

His hand drifted leisurely between your legs but you groaned. “Eds, what time is it?”

“I don’t know, almost nine? Why?” His lips never left your skin, still working over your neck and shoulder without leaving obvious marks.

“We can’t, we have to go. Dustin’s at Mike’s and I wanna make sure we get back before him. I’ve still gotta make myself decent and figure out what I’m gonna say to him.”

“What we’re gonna say to him,” He corrected. “And can’t you stay indecent a little longer?”

“Wayne’ll be home anytime,” You remind him, “If he’s not already.”

He pouted, “But how often do we get to have great morning sex after a night together like this, baby?”

“Any morning now that I’ll be staying over whenever you want,” You point out.

“Hmm, I s’pose that’s true,” He agreed contently. Stretching out beside you with a loud groan, he pecked your cheek before he got out of bed. Yawning, “I’ll be right back,” he headed for the bathroom.

Rolling over, you buried your face in his pillow and breathed in. Old spice shampoo, weed, and Marlboros filled your nose and it made every muscle in your body relax. Him. You wanted to bottle the scent, soak every pillow and blanket and sweatshirt you owned with it. You’d never have another restless night again. Lifting your head slightly, you left your nose against the fabric but allowed your eyes to flicker around his room.

A bottle of lotion sat on his nightstand, he didn’t seem to bother with tissues though. You weren’t surprised. Handcuffs hung on the wall, also not surprising, but they still made your thighs twitch. There were more band posters than in your room, including a hand-spray-painted one for Corroded Coffin. He had three guitars, his prized possession– his other sweetheart, as well as another black and white electric, and an acoustic painted to say ‘this machine slays dragons’. An amp sat across from the bed and his dressers were strewn with clothes and beer cans. It was easy to imagine him existing in here. Playing guitar in bed in his boxers or planning the party’s next campaign at his desk.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it finally opened again. “Still in bed, huh?” Nodding with a small smile, you watched him rummage through his dresser for today’s band tee. His hand settled on Slayer before he thought of running into your mom, and opted for the much tamer Deep Purple one beneath it. “Well, you should probably put somethin’ else on before I take you home. What you’ve got on might get a little breezy.”

“Bite me,” You yawned, flipping him off as you got up.

“I didn’t think we had time for that,” He replied snarkily. He finished getting dressed as you slipped on your skirt and balled up your fishnets to put in your purse.

When you were both ready– or as ready as you could get for now– you headed for the van. “I’ll make coffee when we get to mine,” You offer. “My mom should be at work, so I’ll make breakfast. Food might help soften the blow.”

“God, you’re acting like we killed his cat or something,” He laughed. “We’re not breaking bad news, babe.”

“It’s still a shock, alright? And Dustin has big feelings, you know that. I just don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable or lied to. Me and him don’t usually keep secrets, so this is a big deal.”

“I can be tactful, alright? But I’ll let you do most of the talking if that makes you feel better, I know you’re worried about him.” His fingers laced through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “It’s gonna be okay though, sweet girl.”

Pulling into your driveway, you let out a heavy breath before you got out and lead him inside. As you got dressed, you tried to practice what you’d say, rambling your thoughts aloud. He left you to your process, only stepping in for you to bounce thoughts off of or to keep you from getting lost in your concerns. You only paused once you made your way into the kitchen. Putting a pot of coffee on, you asked, “Chocolate chip pancakes okay for breakfast? They’re his favorite. I’ll probably make a little of everything else too; eggs, bacon, sausage, there’s fruit in the fridge.”

Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep the words ‘marry me’ from rolling off his lips. “Sounds incredible, baby. Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s okay.” Watching you methodically gather everything you needed from the fridge and cabinets, he figured he’d just get in your way if he tried to lend a hand. While you cooked, you mumbled through your prepared speech again, knowing it would never go so smoothly in actual conversation. Thinking about it more, you just hoped Lucas and Mike didn’t come back with him.

By the time he made it home, leaving his bike in the yard, you had made more than enough food and Eddie had already eaten his. Dustin was talking the second the door was open. “What’re you doing here, Eddie? Something going on with Hellfire?”

“Nice to see you too, Henderson.” He retorted, standing and flicking the bill of your brother’s hat into his eyes. “Your sister made you breakfast. I hear chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite.”

He eyed both of you suspiciously as he started toward the kitchen. "Yeah, what's it to you?" Eddie shared a confused look with you, but decided not to say anything. After he’d made his plate and sat down at the table to dig in, Dustin spoke again with a mouthful of food. “So, what’s with the special breakfast? Why’re you guys being weird?”

“We’re not being weird–”

“You’re alone at the house together,” He pointed out, still shoveling food into his face. “That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird– would you just listen? It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to run something by you, alright?” Eddie could tell you were fumbling, forgetting everything you’d planned to say. His hand itched to reach out for yours on the table, but he knew you wanted to get the words out first. “I’ve been–”

“Seeing Eddie?” Dustin interrupted. When the two of you shared a glance and you opened your mouth to question him, he continued. “Mike and Lucas told me last night.”

“How did they–” Eddie began, but Dustin cut him off.

“Apparently, everybody knew but me! All the guys in the band knew! Steve, Nancy, and Robin knew! How could you leave me out of the loop like this? You know I hate not knowing things! I have to know everything!”

“Dusty, calm down,” You said softly. “I wanted to wait until I actually had something to tell you. He’s your friend, I didn’t want to change the way you look at him just to go on a couple dates and decide it wasn’t gonna work.”

Nose wrinkling, he asked, “So, what? You guys are like– boyfriend and girlfriend now or something?”

You snorted and Eddie couldn’t help the small, smug smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Back of your hand hitting his stomach, you tried not to laugh as you answered. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Turning back to your brother, you added, “Only if you’re okay with it, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like you can’t trust Eddie anymore.”

“It’s kinda weird, but I guess I don’t care as long as you don’t make out and all that gross shit in front of me. And you’d better treat her right or me, Mike, and Lucas are all leaving Hellfire,” He tagged on pointedly.

“You don’t have to worry about that, you have my word.” He looked like he was about to say more, but opted to stay quiet.

“Okay, well, I think I’ve lost my appetite for now.” Dustin stood from the table, “I’m gonna go back to Mike’s and tell them they were right.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to clean up. “Be safe, I love you.”

“Love you, too!” He shouted back just before he yanked the door shut.

As you started rinsing dishes in the sink, Eddie’s hands found your waist. “I think that went well.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t stay awkward for long,” You sighed lightly. “I guess Lucas and Mike did the hard part for us.”

“Guess so,” He drawled in agreement. “So, what now?”

“Now? Hmm…” Drying off your hands, you turned to loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess now we do whatever we want, no more sneaking around.”

“I hope that’s not gonna suck the fun out of it for you.”

“‘Cause watching you Tetris yourself through my window is such a turn-on,” You scoffed.

He gave you a look of mock offendedness. “Good thing I won’t have to do it anymore, since you clearly don’t appreciate the athletic prowess it takes to climb through that window without waking your mom up.”

Halfheartedly rolling your eyes yet again, you let your fingers dip past the neck of his shirt, fingers grazing along the top of his spine. “How about you roll us a joint and then I’ll show you how much I appreciate your ‘athletic prowess’?”

“You drive a hard bargain, babe,” He sighed theatrically. “But you know it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Obviously,” Lacing your fingers through his, you dragged him toward your room. “That’s why I offered.”

As the three boys gathered at Mike’s house again, he asked, “Wait, we were right?”

Lucas stood, pointing at him. “I TOLD YOU, MAN!”

Mike tried to argue, “I NEVER SAID–”

“I TOLD YOU!”

“GUYS, SHUT THE HELL UP!” Dustin interjected.

Lucas cleared his throat as the two of them settled back into their seats. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie dating your sister? I mean, it’s not gonna make Hellfire awkward or anything, is it?” Mike questioned.

“I don’t know, it’s weird. It’ll definitely be nasty seeing them all lovey-dovey or whatever, but they’re still just Eddie and my sister. As long as they don’t act different, I won’t act different.” Turning on the TV, Dustin flopped onto the couch next to Mike. “Besides, I think part of me knew they’d hit it off– I’m like a natural matchmaker. They just have too much in common, ya know?”

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trln @cantreadbutcute @kennedy-brooke @navs-bhat @sluggzillaa @whatwedontdointheshadows @saayanaaa @depressedacidtest @unholyyylita @m-chmcl-rmnc @pullhisteeth @vivalasv3gan @a3trogirl @thesagewitchh @djoseph-quinn @darlingdixon

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#too much in common #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader #stoner!reader #18+ mdni

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