#Cassie in Wedding Dress | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thetriumphantpanda · 6 months

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I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike

Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader

Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.

Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)

Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.

Divider by the amazing @saradika

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.

“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.

“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.

There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.

He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.

Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.

“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”

Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”

The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.

“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”

You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”

Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.

“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”

Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”

It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.

“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.

You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”

Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.

Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.

“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.

“A few weeks, probably.”

“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.

And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.

It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.

“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.

You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”

And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”

When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.

“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.

“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”

You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.

“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.

“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.

“That’ll be a no then.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“You look well.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.

“So do you.” You compliment back.

There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”

“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”

He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”

You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.

“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”

“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.

“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.

“Second.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.

“Which room?”

It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.

It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.

He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.

Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.

“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”

“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.

Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.

A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”

You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”

“And if I asked you not to?”

“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”

You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”

You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.

So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”

“Good girl.”

It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.

His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.

Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.

Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.

He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.

“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.

“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”

He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.

Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”

Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.

“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”

So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.

“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”

“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”

And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.

“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.

“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”

He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.

“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.

“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.

“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”

Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.

He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.

“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”

It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.

Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.

“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”

“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”

She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”

There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.

“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”

She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.

“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.

“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”

When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.

“I’ve been looking at you.”

“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”

“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”

He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.

Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.

Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”

“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”

His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.

“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.

“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”

“Always, Marcus.”

He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.

Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”

He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.

“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”

“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.

It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.

“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you want?”

“Make me come?”

You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.

“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”

You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.

You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.

“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”

“Please, Marcus, please.”

Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.

He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.

You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.

You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.

It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.

“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”

He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”

Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.

“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.

“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.

“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”

“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”

You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”

“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”

“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”

You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.

“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.

“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”

He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”

“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”

“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“What are you doing Wednesday night?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”

Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

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partycatty · 2 months

Text

based off of our lovely @igotcaged 's post here

older!johnny cage > can't get enough

johnny realizes just how much he adores you before a date night

notes: this is so fluffy i might throw up, also why are his boobs so big

[ masterlist ]

it was unlike the two of you to have a night off with a husband that's entire life is devoted to saving the world and making them smile at the same time. if it wasn't shinnok or a timeline disturbance, it was ninja mime or citizen cage. you worked in an office, a higher up that needed to be around or you swore the skyscraper's foundations would crumble. both of you held together your own worlds, but it was near valentine's day when you both get the opportunity to go home and get some rest.

it was cassie that ushered johnny out of his office with his bag full of belongings. she was tired of seeing her old man grovel and train like a military man, and wanted him to be a good husband to her step-parent, you. your own vice president insisted you go home after not getting the last few holidays with your family.

in johnny's typical hollywood style, he wanted to take you out on a date. usually, he was the type of man to just settle for something low key, like an at-home steak dinner or a walk in the park, but he missed you more than anything at the moment. so, he managed to convince you to wear something pretty, and he'd clean up all the same.

you pull and tug at the dress you settled on, a sleek beige dress that settled nicely around your ankles. so used to suit jackets and pencil skirts, you felt somewhat foreign.

johnny walks into the shared bedroom, tugging at his sleeves, but that all stopped when he got a good look at you.

"well god damn."

you twirl around to meet your husband's eyes. he cleaned up nicely too. a smooth pair of beige dress pants accompanying a brown button-up. his arms dropped to his sides as he admired you, and you could see in his eyes that he had fallen in love with you all over again. sure, you always dressed nicely, but johnny was reminded of how gorgeous you looked when you dolled yourself up, especially in the jewelry and dresses he had bought you over the years.

"kind of reminds you of our wedding day, doesn't it?" his voice is tender. you don't recall the last time he voice wasn't strained from spewing commands or taking business calls.

"that's probably the last time we dressed up like this," you reply teasingly, taking one of his arms in your hands and folding his sleeve for him, a task that he long abandoned since landing his gaze on you. "you remember that?"

"every day," his eyes are fixed on your small hands holding his large arm. he stands still, as if he'd startle you from moving. "i have our photo at the altar in my wallet. don't know if i ever told you that."

"you didn't," you grin down, buttoning his sleeve and patting his now bare forearm. "but i could have guessed."

as you reach for his other arm to fold his sleeve, his hand meets yours. with fluttering eyelashes, he places long, sweet kisses on each of your knuckles.

"i love you," he mutters into the back of your hand, placing another kiss and holding his lips there.

"you make me so happy," his hand twists your arm, giving him access to your wrist, where another kiss lands.

"okay, big guy," you giggle, trying to move away. "i love you too, but we'll be late."

johnny ignores your point and spins you around. he wraps one arm around your waist, trapping you against his front. you look in the mirror to determine his intentions, but his eyes are fixed on you. he holds your arm out for you and kisses the backside of your hand again. his mouth glides up, reaching your elbow.

"i see what's going on here," you smirk. "are you going all gomez on me?"

"let me have this," he mumbles again, kissing all up your upper arm until he reaches your bare shoulder, where he bites you playfully. of course, he doesn't bite hard enough for people to see as much as he'd love to.

"johnnyyy—" you whine-giggle out when his nose brushes against the flesh of your neck. "you're tickling me, don't be surprised if i kick you." johnny breathes in your perfume, rubbing the tip of his nose up and down your neck, all the while peppering kisses along the exposed skin. in between every kiss, there's a sweet phrase or two.

"sweet girl." your shoulder.

"my one and only." your collarbone.

"my wife." your jawline.

"i'm so lucky." your ear.

"my beloved." your cheek.

"you look so good." the corner of your lips.

having enough of his game, you twirl around and wrap your arms around his neck, trapping him in a firm but chaste kiss. when you pull away, he's grinning sleepily, and you giggle at your lipstick now transferred onto his lips.

"you might wanna wipe your mouth before we leave," you suggest with a laugh.

"why? not my shade?" johnny replies jokingly, leaning into the mirror to inspect the damage. "ah, you're right. it suits you better."

even after all these years, after everything he's been through, it still warms you inside that his youthful, loving side peeks its head around the corner at the best of times. you couldn't ask for a better husband.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

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justagalwhowrites · 7 months

Note

HI BESTIE !!! 🫂

i was wondering how Joel would react to Doc spoiling him ROTTEN after she got that big girl money 🫦 (in the lavender au)

(because i know she will spoil him so much as a thank you for his unwavering support throughout her career 🥹)

OMG Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so so SO much. Joel is so soft with his girls and he deserves all the good things, including his wife treating him to all the best things once she's a big time surgeon.

This is just the perfect prompt for our favorite man's birthday, too! I hope this is just what you were hoping for. Love you!

Spoiled

After years of Joel taking care of you, you take care of Joel. A one shot set in the Lavender AU timeline.

Yes I know it's not a Joel gif but it fits the fic so well I had to.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Joel and Doc from the Lavender AU)

Warnings: Fluff and smut, smut and fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4.4K

It started with a shopping trip in Houston for Sarah’s wedding.

She needed a dress for the rehearsal and her bachelorette party and the malls in Austin just weren’t cutting it.

“I’m telling you,” she said after coming up empty handed on another Saturday spent shopping as the two of you ate salads and drank sweet tea at a patio cafe. “We need to go to Houston. We haven’t found anything for you, either.”

“I can just…” you began, but Sarah cut you off.

“Mom,” she raised her brows. “You do not get to say ‘just’ anything about my wedding, come on.”

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled.

“Alright,” you put your hands up in surrender. “I’ve got the weekend off again in two weeks, I’ll get us a hotel room in Houston and we can shop til we drop.”

“I’m going to get you comfortable with spending some of those big surgeon bucks one of these days,” she said. “You need to treat yourself! Live a little!”

“I live plenty, thank you,” you replied. “And I do it just fine in my Goodwill jeans.”

“Whatever you say,” she smirked a little, flagging down the server and grabbing the bill before you had a chance to fight her on it.

Sarah might have had a point. You’d been an attending for the better part of a year now and the jump in pay had been staggering. You were making more now in a year than you had your entire life - or it felt that way, anyway. You’d already made good progress paying off your student loans but you made quick work of the rest. Joel had asked if you wanted to move - something bigger or better somehow - now that you could easily afford it but you’d just frowned at him, almost hurt.

“This is our home,” you said. “I fell in love with you here, Sarah grew up here, we made Evie here. This is the first place I ever really felt like I belonged, I don’t want to leave.”

Joel just smiled and kissed your forehead.

“Then we’ll stay,” he said. “Moving’s a fuckin’ hassle anyway.”

You’d just been saving money, not really sure what to do with it. You donated some of it, stopped spending time clipping coupons, finally bought a car that was from this decade (but still used). But actually spending it made you anxious. You’d never had money before. You weren’t poor, exactly. You’d always had enough to eat and a roof over your head but you almost never bought new clothes, had never really traveled outside of places that you could easily get to by car. You were pretty sure you’d never even been in a car that wasn’t at least 10 years old before you came to college and your friend Cassie gave you a ride to the store in her new BMW. It was hard to get used to the idea that money could be spent at all, that it wasn’t already earmarked for some bill or, if there was any left, that it had to be saved for a rainy day.

“You gotta actually spend some of that hard earned money on yourself, Baby,” Joel said as you headed outside to meet Sarah for your weekend in Houston. “Buy some ridiculously expensive dress that I’m gonna want to rip off you in seconds or some purse that’s $1,000 for reasons I don’t understand.”

“That’s two mortgage payments,” you said, eyes wide.

“Baby.”

“Right, right,” you nodded. “On a mission, spend money. Got it.”

“On yourself,” he added. “Not Sarah. Or not just Sarah, anyway. You two have fun.”

“You too,” you said, stretching up to kiss him goodbye. “Don’t let Evie con you into giving her candy when she gets home from school.”

“What wild thing and I get up to when you’re not around is none of your business,” he gave you one last peck on the lips. “Now go, stop worryin’, live a little.”

The mall in Houston was almost overwhelming. Not in the crowds way malls sometimes were for you, thank goodness, but with the kinds of stores. There were names you recognized from Cassie’s closet and from some of the trust fund girls in your med school program but you realized quickly you had no concept of what things like this actually cost.

Sarah picked a dress for the rehearsal that was nearly $600 and you choked on the champagne the sales person had given you to sip while Sarah tried on options.

“You really buy $600 dresses?” You gaped at her as you wandered back into the store from the dressing rooms.

“Not all the time,” she shrugged. “But we make good money and sometimes it’s fun to buy something nice.”

She held up a floor length gown to you, the bottom pooling on the ground.

“That’s too long,” you said.

“Well we’d get it tailored,” she laughed a little. “Come on, try it on.”

Another sales person wandered over and offered to set up a fitting room and you snuck a peek at the price tag. Your eyes went wide.

“That dress is $1200!” You whispered at Sarah as you trailed after the attendant.

“And it’s for my wedding,” she replied. “And don’t you have that gala thing every spring for work? You can wear it for that, you need a new dress for that anyway. Plus I’m the bride and I say you have to try it on. You can’t disappoint the bride.”

You sighed and went into the fitting room, feeling utterly out of place in your second hand Levis and vintage top you’d picked up on a shopping trip a few weeks back that felt much more your speed.

But the dress - outside of the length - looked like it had been made for you. The silk hugged your every curve, the neckline dipping just low enough to display just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it would be scandalous. It was simple, no embellishments beyond the structure of the dress and the deep emerald green of the fabric. Normally you’d have scoffed at something so basic fetching such a high price but, now that it was on your body, you understood it. It was like you’d put on a work of art and, in doing so, become art yourself.

“OK you can’t laugh,” you said. “But I’m coming out.”

Sarah was waiting patiently in the little show room attached to your fitting room and you had to hold up the hem of the dress to not trip but she gasped all the same.

“Oh Mom,” her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “You look incredible.”

“Yeah?” You asked, turning in the mirrors to look at yourself from every angle. “I don’t look like I’m playing dress up?”

“Not at all,” she spoke with almost a sense of reverence, looking you up and down. “You’re getting that dress. I’ll buy it for you if you won’t…”

“No, Sarah,” you protested but she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before you had a chance to really realize what she was doing. “What was that for?”

“I’m sending this to Dad…” her voice trailed off and she took a sip of champagne just as her phone rang. She smirked and answered, putting it on speaker phone. “Speak of the devil. Hey old man, your wife is trying to tell me this dress costs too much.”

“I don’t care if that dress costs $200,000 she’s bringing it home,” Joel said. “She hear me?”

“Yes,” Sarah smiled, a shit eating grin if there ever was one.

“Good,” he said. “Baby, you look so damn amazing I’m about to jump in the truck and drive over there just to see you in that thing in person sooner. Save me a trip, bring it home, alright?”

“Alright,” you sighed.

“Didn’t quite hear that,” Joel said.

“I said alright you dork,” you said a little, grinning in spite of yourself.

“That’s my girl.”

You bought the dress. And a bag that Sarah insisted you needed for work because she was tired of seeing you haul around a canvas tote. And shoes for the dress.

When you passed the jeweler window, you were on the way to the car after spending so much money you were surprised you hadn’t fainted. You stopped, the hanger with the garment bag for the dress hooked in your fingers over your shoulder, and looked at the watch sitting in the window.

It was large and silver but not too ornate, no diamonds or anything like that. The face of the watch was black with elegant white roman numerals on the face.

“What?” Sarah asked, stopping next to you.

“Do you think your dad would like that?” You asked, head cocked a little, still looking at the timepiece through the glass.

“Yeah,” Sarah said after a moment. “Seems like a him watch, if he were going to wear a nice watch, anyway.”

Joel did already have a watch. A simple one with a green strap and silver colored case and a black face. You and Sarah had picked it out together for his birthday one year. She’d been giddy about it, you had to all but beg her to keep it a secret for a few days until it came time to give it to him. He loved the thing, wore it every day, even more than a decade later.

But your career wasn’t the only one that had advanced. Joel was no longer doing the manual labor of a contractor every day. More often than not, he was going to meet with clients and arrange contracts and make plans. For a lot of those meetings, he wore a suit and, for a lot of those meetings, you saw him stick his watch in his pocket before leaving the house instead of putting it on.

“Hard sometimes,” he said when you’d asked him about it. “Fittin’ in with these clients.”

“Let me just…” you doubled back to the entrance to the store and went inside.

The watch was more than you thought it would be. A lot more. So, so much more. You watched as the sale’s person’s eyes went from encouraging and hopeful to let down when you reacted to the price.

“One second,” you smiled sheepishly and pulled out your phone, going into your banking app. Even after spending an arm and a leg on yourself that day, the number in your personal checking account seemed obscenely high. More money than you’d ever had at once until very, very recently. You could afford the watch. You looked at the sales person and smiled.

“I’ll take it.”

You had several very strong cocktails when out to dinner with Sarah that night to make yourself feel a little better about spending thousands of dollars on things like clothes and a watch and she just smiled.

“See, Mom? You spent some money on yourself and the apocalypse did not happen, I think you can actually buy yourself things from time to time.”

“And things for your dad,” you said. “Because he needs nice things, too.”

When you got home, Joel insisted that you model the dress for him.

“It needs to be tailored,” you tried to protest.

“Not for me to take it off you it doesn’t,” he smiled from his spot on the couch, beer in hand.

“Fine,” you said. “But only if you let me model everything I bought and you can’t return any of it.”

“Deal.”

You went to your bedroom and put on the dress and the shoes and took the watch out of the bag, the face almost comically large on your wrist, before going back to the living room, hem of the dress in hand.

“Jesus Christ Baby,” he looked at you, his eyes wide. “You look… fuck me.”

“That is the idea,” you winked. “You like it?”

“Like is a fuckin’ understatement,” he said, getting up and walking around you slowly, his eyes going up and down your body. “You know, Evie’s at a friend’s for two more hours…”

“So you’re not going to make me return anything I have on?” You asked.

“Fuck no.”

“Not this dress?” You started unzipping the side before sliding the straps down your arms.

“Dress stays,” he said, gently tugging it down and exposing your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts.

“What about the shoes?” You asked, putting a sandaled foot out from below the hem. He glanced down, eyes ranging over the straps.

“Those stay, too,” he said, going back to kissing your chest. “Everything you’ve got on stays, already agreed to that.”

“Good,” you said as he made it to your neck. “Even this?”

You held up your wrist, the watch sliding down your arm.

He frowned, looking at it.

“Don’t look like you’re style,” he said. “But if it makes you happy, Baby, keep it.”

“Never said it was for me, Joel,” you smiled a little. You watched him piece it together, taking a moment for him to dawn on him.

“No,” he shook his head, looking from your arm to your face. “No, you were supposed to get stuff for yourself for a change not…”

“I did get stuff for me,” you said. “And I got this for you. Because you’re wearing suits more now and I wanted you to have the watch for that. So really, it is for me.”

He took your wrist gently in one hand, elbow in the other, tilting your arm this way and that to look at the watch in different lights.

“Baby, this…” he shook his head again. “This is too much, this is…”

“Not for you,” you cut him off. “Not after everything you’ve given me. This is not enough. But it’s a start. Besides, you said I got to keep everything I was wearing. You already agreed to it, Miller.”

“Baby,” he sighed.

“Joel,” you smiled a little. “You’re my husband. Let me give you something nice. Please.”

He brought the inside of your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, making your pulse flutter against his mouth.

“Already gave me the best thing there is,” he said. “Anything more feels like I’m stealin’ it.”

“Steal whatever you want, Miller,” you teased. “But you’re keeping the watch.”

Joel ended up wearing the watch often. Not as much as the Sarah watch - and he stuck with the Sarah watch for her wedding - but at least once a week for meetings where he needed to dress up for. Every time you gave him a little knowing smile and every time he rolled his eyes a little before kissing you goodbye. But you had yet to get him to accept anything like it in the years since, Joel trying to dodge everything every time you spent money on him.

So when his birthday was around the corner, you were bound and determined to get him something good.

“Anything you want for your birthday?” You asked as you, Joel and Ellie wandered around a street fair, meandering towards the car show. “Anything you want to do?”

“S’not like it’s a big one,” he shrugged. “Just 56. Would love to see all my girls, of course. Could use some new tongs for the grill.”

“Tongs?” Ellie said, brows raised. “Seriously? Old people are so WEIRD.”

“You know what kiddo?” Joel smiled a little, faking exasperation. “We’ll see how you’re doin’ when you’re pushin’ 60.”

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose and wandered to the first car in the row of vehicles on display. You laughed, strolling along with Joel until he stopped at a beautiful old convertible, giving a low whistle.

“What?” You asked.

“Just a pretty fuckin’ car,” he said, his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly around it. “Always wanted one of these when I was a kid.”

“Yeah?” You asked, getting an idea.

“Neighbor had one,” he nodded. “Let me ride in the back once. Coolest fuckin’ car.”

He looked over every inch of the thing and Ellie caught up with you while he did, pouting a little as she leaned on the door of the car, her chin propped on her folded arms.

“I’m starving,” she groaned. “Can I go get some fries at least?”

“Sure,” you laughed a little, pulling some cash out of your pocket. “Grab me a lemonade, too?”

You watched as she went to the food stands and you and Joel moved on, walking slowly down the row of cars when Ellie caught up with you again, passing you the lemonade. Joel stole a fry from her cup.

“Hey!” She protested. “Go get your own!”

“Might have to,” he said, giving her a wink. “Back in a sec.”

You waited until he was out of earshot before you grabbed Ellie.

“Do me a favor,” you said. “That car we were looking at? The blue one? Can you go talk to the owner and find out what make, model and year it is?”

“I guess,” she frowned. “Why?”

“Because,” you said. “I found something your dad wants besides tongs.”

You went and stood in line with Joel, keeping him distracted while Ellie did recon. She took some pictures of the car and texted you all the information which you texted to Andrew as Joel drove home from the fair.

“Can you help me find this car?” You asked him. “One that’s for sale?”

“Becoming a collector?” He texted back.

“Joel’s birthday,” you added a smilie face emoji.

“Excellent,” he replied. “I’ll find you something, don’t worry.”

It took a few weeks but Andrew found the car. A blue 1967 Mustang Convertible that was being sold down in San Antonio. He went down with you to help you test drive it - you didn’t know a damn thing about cars - and you bought it on the spot.

“He’s going to freak the fuck out,” Andrew said, driving it home since you couldn’t drive stick. “Seriously, you might give the man a heart attack…”

You rolled your eyes but laughed all the same.

“I really hope he loves it,” you said, running your fingers over the dash.

“I’ll take it off your hands if he doesn’t,” Andrew smiled. “Just don’t tell Jess.”

Tommy agreed to store the car in his garage until Joel’s party at his house in two weeks and you were giddy as you drove home, feeling like a kid at Christmas as you tried to keep the car a secret.

By the time the party rolled around, even Ellie was excited and having a hard time holding it together.

“It’s really just a cookout at Tommy’s,” Joel said as the three of you piled in the car to head over. “Not sure why you two are actin’ like we’re going to fuckin’ Six Flags…”

“Tommy’s cooler than you,” Ellie said. “Nice to spend time with someone who isn’t a total dinosaur…”

“Alright, in the car kiddo,” Joel smiled and shook his head a little. “Can’t take you anywhere ’til seatbelts are on, let’s go!”

You texted Tommy that you were on the way and he responded with a picture of the car, shiny in his driveway with a big, red bow on the hood.

“He’s going to lose his mind, Kid,” he texted back. “Please tell Maria I want this same treatment when I’m old.”

“Better put in some work to deserve it, Miller,” you replied, smiling a little.

Joel parked on the street, frowning at the car in Tommy’s driveway.

“When the hell’d Tommy get a Mustang?” He got out, his frown deepening. You almost laughed.

“He didn’t,” you smiled, so big it was like your face was going to crack.

Joel looked confused for half a moment before his mouth dropped open in shock.

“No,” he shook his head. Ellie leaned between the front seats, grinning hugely, “No, no that’s… Baby. No.”

“Suck it up, old man,” Ellie smirked as Sarah and Brandon came out of the house, little Carson making a beeline for the car. Sarah and Brandon waved as Tommy and Maria joined them in the yard. Ellie pulled the keys out of her pocket and dangled them between you and Joel. He took them, staring at them in his hand for a second.

“Should take it before I do,” Tommy hollered and you laughed as you got out of the car and followed an almost dazed Joel toward the Mustang.

He walked, in awe, around the car twice.

“I…” he said but stopped, staring at the convertible for a moment. “I don’t….”

“Do you like it?” You asked, coming up beside him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Fuckin’ love it,” he said, immediately looking at you. “But Baby, this is too much, way too much, I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” you smiled up at him. He looked down at you, the awed expression still on his face. “After everything you’ve done for me? For us? Everything you’ve sacrificed, all the ways you take care of me and our girls? The life you gave me? Still not enough, Joel. Not for you.”

He pulled you tight to him and kissed the top of your head.

“I love you,” he said, his voice wet. “So goddamn much, Baby.”

Tommy set up chairs and a table in the front yard so everyone could sit near the car while celebrating Joel. He kept looking over at it in disbelief before looking at you with eyes filled with gratitude and wonder. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart felt quite so full.

You drove Ellie home, following slowly behind Joel in the new convertible.

“OK I know what this shit means,” Ellie said, gesturing between you and Joel after you got home, your husband clutching you to his side. “Try to keep it down and not be gross about it because ugh.”

“Was actually going to see if you wanted to take the car for a spin,” you smiled up at Joel. “Just you and me. Assuming Ellie will behave herself and actually go to bed at a reasonable time.”

“Anything to get away from whatever that is,” Ellie said, smiling a little as she went to her room. You laughed.

“So,” you said, once she closed the door to her room. You looked up at Joel, smiling. “Care to take me for a ride, Mr. Miller?”

He grinned.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Miller.”

He took you through town slowly, down quiet side streets filled with sleeping people and past businesses that had closed for the night, until the two of you ended up at a large park on the edge of town where things were a little darker and you could see some of the stars.

“I can’t believe you got me a car, Baby,” he said, his hands running over the steering wheel. His smile was so big you could see it even in the dim light of the moon. “It’s really…”

“If you say it’s too much again, Joel, I will go and buy you a second one on principle.”

He laughed at that.

“I was gonna say it was the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said, turning to look at you. “Besides you and the girls of course.”

“Oh, of course,” you smiled.

He leaned in and kissed you gently.

“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he said. “But I sure am grateful for it.”

Your kiss shifted and you started climbing over the center console, Joel taking a second to move his seat all the way back. You bunched your skirt around your hips and settled over him, kissing him harder, more eager.

“I’m pretty damn grateful for you,” you whispered against his mouth, his hands going to your hips. You ground down on him and he moaned, pressing his hard length up against you through his jeans. “And I think the birthday boy should get laid in his dream car.”

“Dream car,” he said, kissing you. “Dream woman.” He kissed you again. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday.”

You unzipped his fly as you kissed him and tucked your panties to the side, notching his cock against your entrance. He moaned as you sank slowly down onto him, taking all of him inside of you, savoring how he filled you.

You started slowly, just grinding him deeper into you as you kissed him, his tongue licking into your mouth.

“You feel fuckin’ amazing Baby,” he moaned, kissing down your throat until he reached your breasts, cleavage bared in your v-neck top. “Always feel so damn good…”

He was thrusting up into you, trying to set his own pace, and you decided to allow that, matching him stroke for stroke as he groaned below you. His hands ranged up your back, pawing at your shirt until be was able to raise it enough to slide below it and get at your skin with a satisfied moan. He clutched you close, so close that you could hardly move over him anymore. Instead, he fucked up into you, making you whimper and your channel tighten around him.

“C’mon Baby,” he grunted, voice strained. “Want you to come for me. All I want now is you to come for me, come all over me, fuck Baby…”

You bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet, the sounds of crickets and cicadas on the air as you came, your sex throbbed around him. You whimpered against him as you came down from your high and he kept working you, his grip on you tightening.

“Fuck Baby,” he gasped. “Feel too good, I’m gonna… fuck… I’m…”

He cut himself off with a groan, thrusting deep and filling you, his grip on you relaxing enough that you could sit up a little. You looked at him in the moonlight his eyes closed, a blissed out look on his face. You smiled a little, brushing his more unruly curls back from his forehead.

“I love you so much, Baby,” he smiled a little, eyes still closed.

“So I did alright for your birthday?” You teased lightly, his softening cock still buried inside you.

He laughed.

“Did perfect,” he tugged you close enough that he could kiss you again, careful to not push you back against the horn. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday, perfect fuckin’ woman, perfect fuckin’ wife.”

“Good,” you smiled, kissing him. “You deserve it, Joel. You deserve the world.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #lavender #joel miller smut #joel miller x oc

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

Text

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 24

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Word Count: 4.4K

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Five Months Later

The air was cool and crisp, the sun shining down brightly as people moved in and out of the house, hauling boxes. The trees blazed a multitude of shades of orange, red, and yellow, crunching underfoot and rustling as they fell off the trees, floating to the ground like a colorful snowstorm with each gust of wind. It was that kind of fall day that you wished you could bottle so you could experience it again and again.

The neighborhood was an autumn wonderland. The yards were lined with pumpkins, scarecrows, and skeletons. Jack o’ Lanterns grinned widely from porches. Everything was spooky and festive as if Halloween had taken over the entire world. The energy was full of mischief, children running and biking down the streets, their laughter and chatter filling the air, anticipating the holiday that was now only a couple weeks away.

The season brought with it a feel of transition and change, a moment to step back and reflect on everything that had led to this moment. A sense of peace settled over you as you watched your friends: Eddie yelling at Steve for slinging his guitar over his shoulder, Dustin and Robin bickering about who had to carry the box of records, Nancy taking charge and directing everyone, Max snapping at Lucas for drinking the rest of her water.

They were all here, this group of people that had somehow become family to you over the course of a few short months. Hopper had even pitched in, offering the use of his Chevy Blazer. Him and Joyce were currently somewhere inside the house. Uncle Wayne was just pulling in with the last load, Mike and El crammed into the front with him. Jonathan and Will walked over to meet them, all five of them grabbing boxes to carry inside.

The idea to move in together had been fairly sudden. What had been even more sudden and shocking was that it had been Eddie’s idea. You couldn’t believe he was ready to take such a big step after only six months of dating. But it hadn’t taken much thought on your part. You smiled at the memory.

The wedding was a grand affair, full of pomp and circumstance. Of course it was. Cam wouldn’t have allowed it to be anything less, never passing up an opportunity to show off for the masses. Eddie and you had sat toward the back of the church. You'd picked out a new dress for the occasion, teal with gold, brown, and red details, a plunging neckline and a high slit up the thigh.

You weren't trying to get Cam back but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to make him regret what he lost. Besides, the look on Eddie’s face when you'd opened the front door had been worth every single penny it had cost. His fingers kept grazing the ample amount of skin on your leg that the dress exposed, a promise of what was coming once the two of you got out of there. Every brush of his hand, his lips caressing over your jaw, dirty words detailing what he wanted to do to you whispered against your ear, sent shivers of desire straight down your spine.

The doors opened, Cassie appearing in mountains of tulle, looking stunning. Not that it was a surprise. Your friend might be a snake but she was a beautiful one. Cam smiled at the sight of her but then the smile faltered, his eyes widening, when he noticed you sitting there. Eddie gave him a little wave and a wink, wiggling his fingers and winding his arm around you, pulling you in close to his side.

You sat through the service, Eddie whispering in your ear the entire time, making you giggle. He asked you which bridesmaid Cam would have in his bed before the honeymoon was over. He whispered how Cam looked like he needed to take a giant shit as he was struggling through his vows, his eyes darting over to the two of you laughing. When Cassie began rocking back and forth on her heels nervously, he quoted Spaceballs.

“Going right past the altar, heading down the ramp, and out the door. Run Cassie. Run before it’s too late.”

You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that was threatening to burst from you. But Eddie was accomplishing exactly what his goal had been. He was keeping you from sinking into your feelings, keeping you from bursting into tears or raging in anger, sitting and watching the two people who betrayed you promising to love each other forever.

The happy couple hurried down the aisle, avoiding eye contact with you like you were the sun that would burn them to ash where they stood. You told him you could skip the reception as you walked out to his van. The two of you had done what you'd set out to do. They’d both seen you and knew they couldn’t chase you away, knew you'd moved on and found happiness. They had not broken you.

“Are you kidding? Pass up free booze, a party, and the chance to make them even more uncomfortable? No fucking way, princess.” He grinned, hand wrapping around your hip, pulling you into him. “Besides, you look way too damn hot in that dress not to show you off.”

The reception was even more opulence, a banquet befitting royalty. The cake was a goddamn work of art, multiple tiers with buttercream roses. It was all grandness and luxury. Cream tablecloths, white roses, twinkle lights draped from the ceiling, a fairytale come to life. It made your own wedding pale in comparison. You hadn’t had near the money that Cam had now and he was spending every damn cent of it to be certain everyone there knew how far he’d come.

Eddie’s hand stayed on the small of your back, letting you know he had you as you made your way through the hall. Your former mother-in-law stopped in her tracks, her face a mask of stunned mortification when she almost ran into you, heading up to check that everything was okay, of course. The woman was a micromanager and she would not allow anything to ruin her golden boy’s day.

You had always hated that about her. She always had an opinion about everything from the colors you picked for your walls to the way you had gotten your hair cut. Cam would call his mommy to whine every single time you were upset with him and here Cheryl would come, armed and ready to battle for her son, reminding you how good you had it. That you were lucky Cam had chosen you because you both knew he could have done far better, how you were riding his coattails, and if you didn’t want to lose the comfortable life you'd grown accustomed to then you better forgive him. How many times had you done just that? Ignoring all the red flags until they were so glaring you couldn’t anymore.

“I…well, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I would think not Cheryl but I was invited so I felt it would be rude not to at least make an appearance. You know, wish the happy couple the best on their special day.”

“Oh, how very…kind of you,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “Honestly, it took a lot of courage to show your face here. I would have thought you’d be too embarrassed to be seen after everything that happened.”

“Wait. By everything that happened you mean your son banging her friend behind her back? Not sure why she should be embarrassed that your kid couldn’t keep it in his pants and realize what a good thing he had when he had it.” Eddie stepped around you with a grin. “Eddie, by the way.” His arm wound around your waist, pulling you into his side. “I’m the guy who’s pretty damn thankful he didn’t because I know what a good thing I’ve got.”

“How…” Her eyes tracked him from his head to his toe, no doubt thinking he was far beneath her son with his long hair and tattoos. “Lovely for you both. If you’ll excuse me, I have far more important things to attend to.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to keep you from making sure the second wedding goes smoothly. Might want to cut back on the third one, though. With your son’s track record, this kind of party could get very costly for you.”

Cheryl’s nostrils flared, her face as red as a tomato. You could see she wanted to spit something vile at Eddie but her concern over how others perceived her won out. She could never let anyone think she was anything less than the perfect hostess. With a snort, she stomped off, her heels clacking loudly through the hall.

“Jesus Christ,” you laughed, burying your face against the sleeve of his jacket. “You definitely made her shit list.”

Eddie’s lips came together, an annoyed puff of air blowing out, “Well, she can get in line. It’s not the first nor the last list my name is on. It pisses me off that she acted like you should be embarrassed about a damn thing when her son is the one who should be hiding under a rock after the shitty stuff he did. That woman can kiss my ass.”

“Hey?”

A rippled of anger traced its way along your spine at the sound of that voice. How could she have the audacity to even speak to you after everything she’d done? You had been counting on the fact that the two of them would avoid you like the plague once they saw you at the wedding. You'd never expected either of them to actually approach you.

“Cassie,” you stated, the word harsh, two syllables that scratched your throat like knives coming up, as you turned to look at your former friend.

The beautiful bride smiled, uncertain and nervous, “We didn’t really think you’d come. I mean, we sent the invite hoping…but we didn’t think you’d be ready to forgive and move on. But we’re both so glad you’re here, that you’ve realized that we never meant to hurt you.”

“Realized? Forgive?” you seethed. “I’ve realized nothing. I don’t forgive a goddamn thing. You two willingly hurt me. The two people who were supposed to love me, to be the ones I could count on. You hurt me and you did it purposefully and don’t feed me any bullshit about having no control over your feelings. You knew exactly what you were doing and what it would do to me. You just didn’t care. You’re both selfish and pitiful excuses for human beings. And you know what? I’m glad you have each other because you deserve each other.”

“Please. I don’t want to lose you…”

“You already have. You lost me the minute you decided to jump in bed with my husband. You’re both nothing to me now. Enjoy your miserable existence and when Cam inevitably decides to cheat on you, don’t come crying to me. I’ve moved on. I’ve found people who actually care, who actually have my back, and who actually love me.” You smiled up at Eddie. “Enjoy my leftovers, Cassie. I’ve moved on to a gourmet meal.”

Taking Eddie’s hand, you pulled him behind you. He grinned, sticking his tongue out at Cassie as he followed behind you. Cam glanced over at you both and you gave him the middle finger.

“Son of a bitch!” Eddie whooped. “You were brutal.” His hands gripped the sides of your waist, pressing you against the cool brick of the building. “That was so fucking hot.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” His nose traced over your face as his hand glided up your leg, taking full advantage of the massive slit in the side to slip around and grip your ass. A whimper escaped your lips as the evidence of his arousal pressed against you. “Fuck, sweetheart, this dress has been killing me all damn night. I don’t know if I can make it all the way home.”

“Your van has plenty of room,” you whispered.

“Son of a bitch. That’s why I love you. So resourceful,” he groaned, grabbing onto your hand, dragging you across the parking lot, your steps hurrying to keep up with him.

Eddie threw open the back doors of the van and you crawled inside, him right behind you. The doors slammed loudly and then you were flat on your back, Eddie’s lips devouring yours, tongue not even waiting for invitation before it was exploring your throat.

Your hands grabbed at the front of his pants, quickly undoing his belt, unbuttoning, sliding his zipper down. You pushed his dress pants and his boxers down over his hips. Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his cock, firm as you moved it steadily along his length.

Eddie groaned, his forehead pressing against yours, “Jesus H. Christ, baby. You’ve got me so fucking wound up. I can’t wait. I need that pretty little pussy.”

His hands skimmed up your thighs, pushing the dress up to your waist, his lips moving along your neck, his hard length pressing against you. You wound your legs around his hips, needing that beautiful cock so badly right now. Eddie’s hand grabbed your wrists, holding them together above your head as his other hand guided himself to your entrance. He pressed into you slowly, his eyes focused on yours the entire time.

“Oh shit…” you gasped as he buried himself to the hilt within you, pausing and relishing the feel of your bodies coming together in sweet perfection. “Eddie…”

“I know. Jesus, you feel so fucking good, princess,” he groaned as he began to move his hips, his cock stretching you completely.

Your hands came up to rest on his back, your fingers digging into the skin along his shoulder blades. He was moving agonizingly slow, drawing out the experience. It felt incredible but you were aching for him to move faster, harder, to completely take you, own you, make you his.

“Eddie, please,” you pleaded, rocking your hips in an effort to show him what you needed.

“Words, sweetheart,” he urged, that little smirk playing at his lips, causing that dimple you wanted to dive into to appear on his cheek once again.

“Eddie, faster…harder…please…fuck me,” you managed.

“Your wish is my command, baby,” growled Eddie as he thrust into you with force. The van began to rock and you cried out in relief. “Tell me, baby. How does it feel?”

“It’s fucking amazing,” you panted, your nails raking along the skin of his back, causing him to hiss.

Eddie gripped your calf, lifting your leg up by your ear and you gasped in pleasure as this new angle created brand new sensations, pleasure rocketing straight through your core. His other hand released your wrists, gripping the headrest of the driver’s seat as he drove into you again and again, your bodies colliding over and over in a frenzied blur of want and lust.

“Shit, princess, I’m close,” he rumbled. “Come for me, baby. Touch yourself. Need you to come.”

You obeyed, your hand snaking between your bodies, your finger finding your clit and working over it. It didn’t take much. Eddie had you so wound up, your body was just aching to let go. Your entire body tensed, back arching, as your orgasm rolled through you.

“That’s a good girl. My good girl,” praised Eddie, thrusting once, twice, and then his body stilled, pressing into you, his grip on your leg tightening and you felt as his release filled you, a strangled roar rising from within his chest.

His body shuddered over you and his head dipped down, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. He collapsed down next to you with a grunt, his arm resting over his head, releasing a long, slow breath of satisfaction.

“Fuck. That was…fuck…” he muttered softly.

You blew out a long breath, “Yeah…”

“We should move in together.”

“What?”

You rolled onto your side, looking at him, wondering if you'd heard what you thought you'd just heard. He rolled to face you, a soft smile on his lips, his fingers trailing up and down your arm.

“We should move in together. Is that crazy? I mean, I know we’ve only been dating for four months but I know you’re what I want. And we’re thirty. We’re not young, dumb kids. Well, not young anyway.” His body shook gently with laughter. “I love you. You love me. We spend almost every night together anyway. So, why not?”

Were you really hearing this? Was Eddie, the guy who’d kept you at arm’s length, the guy who’d tried to run from you twice, was asking you to move in with him? The guy who was locked up tighter than Fort Knox? The guy who used the mask of being a jerk to hide in plain sight? You couldn’t believe it. You'd thought it would be at least two years before this topic was brought up, if at all.

“You don’t want to?” he asked, head tilting forward to catch your eyes, those brown orbs absolutely melting you. “That’s okay. It’s probably crazy anyway, right? I mean, what was I thinking? You just got out of this ridiculously long relationship and you’re finally living on your own. You probably don’t want me moving in, invading your space, making messes and being loud and annoying…”

“Eddie,” you said, cutting him off. You pushed yourself up, moving to straddle his stomach. Your hands cupped his face, smiling down at him. “I would love nothing more than for you to invade my space. Hell, invade my entire life.”

“Yeah?” he asked, teeth flashing as he grinned.

“Yes, but are you sure you want to move into my place? You’re good with leaving your house?”

Eddie shrugged, fingers dancing up and down your thighs, “It’s just a house. I don’t care. I know your house means something to you. And now, we can fix it up together. Make it ours. I mean, if you’re cool with that.”

“Of course. If you’re living there, it’s your house too. I just…I’m surprised you’re ready for that.”

“What is there to be ready for? Sleeping next to you every night? Waking up next to you every morning? Coming home to you after work? Baby, I’ve been ready for that. We’ve been sharing our space but Prom Queen, I want to share our lives. I’ve never…I mean, you know, I’ve never had anyone that I was willing to share everything with. But you, I want to. I want to tell you everything. I want everything that’s mine to be yours because I’m yours, sweetheart.”

Tears stung your eyes as you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m yours Eddie, completely and forever.”

You inhaled slowly, taking a deep breath of the crisp, fall air, a smile curving your mouth at the memory. That moment you had felt a happiness you'd never known and today, watching as your friends…no, your family, because that’s what this group had become, helped Eddie move in, you were feeling it again.

“What are you all smiley about?” teased Nancy, bumping her hip into yours.

“She’s feeling all grossly giddy because she’s in love and her boyfriend’s moving in,” Robin teased, leaning her head on top of your shoulder.

Steve snorted, “These two have been inducing nausea for the past four months. I’m happy for you both but you could tone it down just a bit for those of us who are hopelessly single.”

“Speak for yourself, loser,” Robin huffed. “I happen to have a date tomorrow night.”

You spun so fast, you almost sent you and Robin tumbling to the ground, “Seriously? Oh my god. Tell me everything!”

Your friend beamed, pink highlighting her cheeks, “Her name is Claire and she brings her Corgi in to get groomed once a month. She’s so damn pretty. Long black hair and these eyes that look like the ocean at night. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask her out for months. At first, you know, I wasn’t sure if she was interested in people like me.”

“You mean girls?” laughed Nancy.

“Yeah. Look, it’s not as easy for me as it is for you,” Robin stated. “You approach the wrong girl and she could get very pissy very fast. But then she was talking about her ex last month and she said that she didn’t like dogs. So, I had my answer. I knew I had to ask her. It was like fate had just dropped her down in front of me or something, you know? So, I finally did and she said yes! We’re going to dinner and then to a haunted house tomorrow.”

“Oh my god. Tell me you’re not going to…” you began.

“The one Eddie works at? Obviously. How many haunted houses do you think Hawkins has?” Robin snorted, blue eyes rolling skyward.

Eddie was a scare actor every Saturday night while the local haunted house was open. He’d convinced you to come check it out last week and may have convinced you to do other things behind the scenes. He was rocking a Ghostface mask and as much as you thought it would be weird, it had been oddly hot.

“Robin, when he finds out you’re bringing your date there…”

“Who’s bringing a date where?” asked Eddie as he strolled up with Dustin, beads of sweat sparkling on their foreheads. Poor Dustin’s curls were smushed underneath his cap.

“Robin has a date and she’s bringing her to the haunted house tomorrow,” Steve answered. “Make sure you give them the special treatment.”

“Sorry, Harrington. I’m a taken man,” Eddie replied, snaking his arm around your waist. “And I already gave my girl the special treatment last week.”

“What do you…oh my God!” Dustin yelled. “You did it in the haunted house?”

Eddie shrugged, “I mean, it was fun.”

“What if someone saw you?” asked Nancy.

“That just makes it more exciting, dollface,” he grinned, tongue slipping between his teeth.

“Okay…gross,” gagged Steve. “Not the special treatment I was talking about. I meant to scare the living shit out of them.”

“Oh, well, now that I can do.”

Robin shoved him in the stomach, “Don’t you dare. I swear, Munson, if you ruin this for me after I’ve been waiting six months just to ask her to go out with me, I will kill you.”

“Calm down, Buckley,” he groaned, rubbing his stomach with a wince. “I’m not gonna mess up your romantic little evening. Besides, isn’t that why you go to a haunted house? To have the shit scared out of you?”

“It’s a first date. I would rather shit not come into play at all.”

“That’s fair,” Dustin nodded. “One time I was having some serious gastrointestinal issues and Suzie…”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! No thank you!” Steve protested, waving his hands in front of him.

The sound of two short honks had all of you turning to see a small blue Nissan pulling up in front of the house. The driver’s door opened and Millie stepped out, waving to you all in greeting before opening the back, retrieving a box wrapped in white paper with a gold ribbon.

“Millie!” you exclaimed, walking over to the woman who had quickly become one of your favorite humans on the planet. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you told me this was moving day, right?” she asked. “I brought you all a housewarming gift.”

You chuckled, “But I already lived here.”

“Yes, but you didn’t live here with someone you loved. Now you do. That’s something to celebrate.”

Eddie approached, taking the package out of Millie’s hands and you went in for a hug. You inhaled the scent of her, cinnamon and vanilla, just like the coffee shop.

“Millie, you didn’t have to do this,” Eddie told her as he leaned in for a one armed hug.

“Of course I didn’t have to but I wanted to. It’s just a little something to mark the occasion. Now go on. Open it.”

Eddie handed the gift to you and you carefully untied the ribbon, handing it to him. You opened the box, pulling out a round white wooden sign. Black letters spelled out the words, ‘Home is not where you’re from, it’s where you belong.’ You blinked against the tears formed in your eyes, so touched by this thoughtful gift from this lady who had been so kind to you since day one.

“Millie, thank you. I love this.”

The older lady placed a comforting hand on your arm, “I know you came here because you were running from something but maybe there was a reason.”

Your eyes immediately met Eddie’s, the two of you sharing a smile, “I know there was.”

“There sure was. This is your home now, honey. You belong in Hawkins with all of us.”

Eddie stepped into you, pulling you into his side, his lips pressing against the top of your head, “She really does.”

You looked around at all your friends who were now sitting all over the porch and the stairs, taking a well deserved break. You looked up at Eddie, that face you wanted to see every single day for the rest of your life. This was your life. Maybe it wasn’t the way you'd pictured it. Maybe some of the chapters had gotten rough and bumpy. Maybe there were moments when you wished you could hit the rewind button and change things.

But now, you just wanted to hit pause, to live in this moment, with these people, forever. You'd not just found a home but friends and family. You'd found your person. You were actually grateful to Cam and Cassie because if they hadn’t have done what they did, you would never have found Eddie and you knew, with every fiber of your being, that he was the missing piece you'd always been looking for.

“You ready for this?” you asked, tilting your face up to look at him.

“Baby, I was born ready,” he grinned, his lips finding yours.

And we have arrived at the end of Sam and Eddie's story. Thank you so much to all who had read, commented, and supported this little story of mine. Every single one of you is a bright life in my life even if I don't know you personally. Your comments and reblogs always make me smile. I will be taking a bit of a break before starting another long Eddie fic. February is going to be busy for me and I will be going on vacation for a week with my family. But no worries. I already have some ideas brewing. The Eddie hyperfixation is still strong. I will keep updating the Steve one as I finish chapters for those who are reading that one as well. So much love and hugs to all of you!

Taglist

@tlclick73@bebe07011@eddiesguitarskills@witchwolflea@nailbatanddungeon@emilyslutface@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes@corrodedcoffincumslut@mmunson86@josephquinnsfreckles@katethetank @cannibalsforbreakfast @cheesewritings @bellalillyrose @seatbacksandtraytables

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sweet-cassi-cd · 8 months

Text

Here's the last set from my Bristol trip, these have been sat in my "Drafts folder" for what seems to be an age but I've had another really busy time lately. I was at a friend's wedding over the weekend and seeing everyone all dressed up has given me the push to get them posted.

Hope you like them.... Cassi Xx :-)

#cdblondie #cdblonde #blonde cd #sweetcassicd

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mamawasatesttube · 9 months

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i would like 2 hear more about the timkon wedding pretty please

i talked abt timkon wedding ideas once here! some other thoughts, building off all that:

they are incredibly giddy all throughout the ceremony. bouncing on their feet keep grinning at each other and everything.

their vows are riddled with inside jokes and silliness as well as heartfelt sappy sentiment. tim is like "btw this is the abridged version. i wrote the rest down in a letter you can read later i just can't actually say it all out loud in front of an audience" and kon gets this biiig ol smile and goes "awww. you looove me." and tim just stares at him like. "yeah. that's. that's the point. that's why we're here kon"

kon wears a beautiful lacy white dress. ma, lori, cissie, and bart came with to help him pick it out; lori declared that if tim's first sight of kon in it didn't leave him stunned speechless, she'd call the wedding off bc no one who deserves kon would be capable of coherent thought seeing him in it <3

(not to worry. they do the private lil first look with the photographers and tim takes one look at kon and gets so excited that he has to turn around with a giant giddy grin and just flap his hands at the air for a minute out of sheer joy before he can actually face him. kon is so endeared by this and also delighted by tim's delight at seeing him AND by how pretty tim looks in his tux that he almost starts floating. they're both a bit of a mess.)

(tim is wearing a really pretty tux btw. later, at the reception, when he shrugs off his jacket and rolls up his sleeve bc they're dancing, kon cannot stop staring.)

dick is ofc tim's best man. this bears reiterating

cassie either is kon's best butch or the officiant ♥ if she's officiating, bart's kon's best man.

tim gets choked up during their first non-choreographed slow dance. he doesn't cry often, but the overwhelming joy of the fact that they made it, they're alive and they've grown up and they're here and they're married, and all their friends and family are here with them, just slams into him like a freight train as kon twirls him around.

he hasn't cried in so long that his chest gets tight and his throat closes up and his eyes start prickling and his first thought isn't "oh i'm crying" but "oh fuck did someone poison my champagne?!" before he realizes.

kon notices his heart rate spike a little and then sees him wiping at his eyes and just. "you just freaked out about crying and thought you, like, got poisoned or something. didn't you." bc he knows exactly how tim's brain works

and then kon (radiant, holding him, his husband, in a wedding dress, beautiful, holding him, his husband!!!) is laughing at him and they're pressed together and tim can feel it in his chest and. well. now hes crying harder while batting kon on the shoulder like shut up!! shut up!!

kon (a very good husband) whisks him away after that song ends to go hide in a private lil alcove somewhere so he can just hug tim and let him sniffle it out for a few minutes. all their friends tease about them sneaking off to make out but it's actually just kon being very considerate of his overstimulated hubby-wubby who is not used to processing such intense emotions on the spot. he needs a minute to cling and let it all wash over him and then he's like okay. okay okay im good now im normal

and then they make out. obviously.

#answers #Anonymous #this is making me so soft to think abt what if i write wedding fic.........#timkon #rambles #tim #kon

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cameronspecial · 9 months

Text

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 5)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Under Age Drinking, Swearing and Making Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.4K

Summary: Y/N’s confusion causes her to ignore Rafe after their midnight McDonald’s run. Midsummer brings about some upsetting conversation and sights.

Masterlist

Y/N lies in bed looking up at the ceiling after getting changed into pyjamas. She and Rafe have just gotten back from McDonald’s. She goes over the day’s events in her head, trying to figure out why she feels the way she does. Her date with Wilson was boring, but the time she spent with him was decent. He didn’t seem to really understand her. However, Rafe took her to the most mundane place in the world and she had an absolute blast with him. He could read her body language and understood what she needed. How could she be feeling this way about Rafe when Wilson is the one she is dating?

She shouldn’t feel this way towards Rafe. It must be a fluke, so she should ignore him until this feeling goes away. She should focus on her relationship with Wilson because it is the one with the potential to turn into something more. He is the one Y/N needs to be with. With the decisions made, she turns to her side and goes to sleep in hopes that she will stop thinking about him.

———

Y/N wakes up to a silent house, which is unusual when both Mason and Rafe are home. If it’s not music blasting from somewhere in the house because of them, then it is the shouts from whoever is losing at the game they are playing. She lazily strolls her way into the kitchen to see her mother at the kitchen island untying a take-out bag. It’s no surprise Cassie bought something to eat; she is just as much of a disaster in the kitchen as her daughter. “I ordered us some breakfast. Since your brother, Rafe and your dad are going for a morning surf and then to the country club for breakfast and golf, I thought you and I can have a girls’ day. I got some eggs benedict and after, maybe we can get our Midsummer dresses?” Cassie suggests while giving the food to her daughter. Y/N nods in agreement, “I love that idea! Could I invite Lace to come dress shopping with us?”

“Of course! She’s practically my other daughter. So… I saw you come home last night with your date and then a few minutes later, I see you leave the house again with Rafe for like an hour. What’s up with that?”

“Ummm, I was going to make a grilled cheese. Rafe suggested we go to McDonald’s and we went. End of story.”

“It can’t be. I saw the way he looked at you, Y/N/N. Before we left for Bali, you never wanted to be alone with him and now, you are going out with only him at midnight. Something has changed between you two.”

“It can’t be different. Nothing can happen between Rafe and I, I’m dating Wilson.”

“Whatever you say, sweetie. Are you going to ask Wilson to Midsummer?”

“Yeah, I can’t wait for you to meet him. He is a big fan of your earlier works.”

———

Y/N stands in front of the mirror looking at the dress she is wearing. Her mother picked this dress and Y/N is not exactly feeling this colour. It is a green asymmetric ruffled silk-satin maxi dress; the colour reminds her of puke and the ruffles made Y/N feel like she is a flower girl for someone’s wedding. Lacey, Y/N and Cassie come out of their respective changing rooms to show off the dresses they found. It looks like Lacey and her mom have both found the perfect dresses for them. Lacey is wearing a jaffa orange asymmetrical open-back midi dress and Cassie is wearing a light blue chiffon dress with a ruched waist, shoulder-wide straps, and a flowy skirt. When the other two look at Y/N’s dress, they both realize how wrong the dress is for the girl. Seeing their faces, Y/N immediately goes back inside to change into the dress Lacey chose.

The dress Lacey picked out is a pastel yellow halter-neck open-back dress. It is a pretty dress, but it is a little plain for Y/N. She goes out to show her other shopping companions. “No, it looks a little boring for you,” Lacey confirms Y/N’s suspicion. “Agreed. I don’t have any other dresses to try on though.” At that moment, Cassie returns with a blush dress in hand, “Here, try this on sweetie.” Y/N thanks her mother and goes back into the changing room to put it on. She looks at the blush cover dress on her. It is a blush chiffon lace midi skater dress, so it reaches just below her knees. Her straps are flower lace and the top is pleated a little so it forms a little v-shaped valley on her chest. It is simple, but the pleated and lace elements add the much-needed oomph to the dress.

She walks out of the changing room with a little twirl to show off her dress. This is the one. The smile on Lacey’s and Cassie’s shows their agreement with her thoughts. “Sweetie, it’s perfect. The colour complements you so much,” Cassie praises. Lacey nods her head, “You look so hot. Like damn girl. And we can make a flower crown with pink flowers to match with purple flowers to add some variety.” “Oooh, I love that idea. You can make an orange and blue flower crown. It would be so cute!” Y/N continues. Cassie’s mom beams at the excitement of the two girls, “We can go to the florist next, but right now, I need you both to change so we can pay for the dresses.

———

After finishing off a day of outdoor activities, Rafe decides it is finally time to go back to Tannyhill. Rafe wanted to go back to the Y/L/N’s house with Marvin and Mason, but he is running out of clothes and he knows he has to face his father eventually. The particular reason why he has been avoiding Ward Cameron this time is that Rafe had finally told his dad that he wasn’t considering being on the swim team when he is in university. Rafe wants to focus on school and intern for his dad during the semesters, so he thought that not joining the university swim team would help him find a good balance between the other two commitments he wants to prioritize.

Rafe enters the house as quietly as possible in hopes of not alerting his father to his arrival. However, he failed at doing so as he hear his father’s heavy footsteps come towards him. “Look who finally came back home. I was beginning to think you ran away from home,” Ward says harshly. “I just came back for more clothes,” Rafe grumbles, trying to get past his father. Ward stands in his son’s way in front of the stairs, “No, you aren’t going back there. We are your family, so you need to live here. Plus, we need to finish our conversation because you are going to join the swim team and intern for me at university.”

“You don’t treat me like family. You are too busy treating Sarah like a princess to even remember Wheezie and I exist. The only time you pay attention to me is when I fuck up. As for the swim team thing, I’ve already explained everything I needed to. I want to focus more on my studies and work. I can’t prioritize those things if I have to worry about getting to swim practice.”

“Don’t talk back to me! Sarah would be able to balance school, work and the swim team; you’re older, so you should be able to do the same! I worked my ass off to get to where I am now; I expect you to do the same too.”

“I’m sorry I’m not perfect Sarah but you have to stop comparing Wheezie and me to Sarah. I know how stressed I get with trying to balance the swim team and school work in high school. I’m trying to look out for my mental health and set my boundaries. Why can’t you just accept that I’m trying to be better mentally? Because a lot of people older than me would never try to do what I’m doing even though they need it way more than I do.”

Ward grew frustrated at his son as he realizes Rafe is actually making valid points, “Enough! I don’t want to talk about this anymore! Go to your room! You aren’t going back to the Y/L/N house any time soon.” “You’re the one who wanted to talk about his,” Rafe grumbles, shoving past his father to go up to his room.

———

Y/N and Wilson are sitting in her theatre room watching The Civil War: The Postage Adventure by Timothy Satonis. As one may guess, it is a documentary about the postage system during the Civil War. Y/N could not be bothered to really pay attention to what the boring narrator is saying because his voice is so dull and she could not care less about the postage during the Civil War. Wilson chose the film. Y/N tries cuddling herself into Wilson’s side because of how cold she is, but Wilson would not let her so she resorts to using a blanket and holding his hand.

Y/N speaks up to try to add some excitement to the movie, “So… Midsummer is coming up soon. And I was wondering if you would be my date?” “Yes, but can we finish watching the movie please?” Wilson answers. She listens to what he requests and scrolls on her phone while the movie plays. Once the movie is finished, Wilson and Y//N go upstairs to make something to eat. Y/N starts making grilled cheese for both of them. “I already picked out my dress. Mine is a blush colour, I can send you a picture if you want to match with me,” Y/N tells Wilson, buttering the bread and adding the cheese before putting it in the pan.

“No, I prefer to go for a plain black suit and tie with a gray handkerchief. It looks cleaner like that.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“So where is your mother? I have not had the chance to introduce myself to her yet.”

“She’s on the main island for a work meeting. You should be able to meet her at Midsummer.”

Wilson nods in understanding at the girl. The conversation can’t continue because Rafe and Mason enter the kitchen too. “Y/N/N, can you make me one too, please,” Mason asks as he sits beside Wilson on the island stool. “Yo, Y/L/N can you make me one too, please?” Rafe chimes. “Of course, Mace,” Y/N responds to Mason while ignoring Rafe. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe so he tries asking again, “Y/L/N, can you make one for me, please?” She ignores the boy again and continues to make the grilled cheese for the other two boys. She finishes up cooking and hands it over to everyone, but Rafe. After realizing she isn’t going to give him one, Rafe leaves the kitchen and goes up to Mason’s room. Mason could see the upset on Rafe’s

Mason eats his grilled cheese without engaging in conversation with the other two and goes upstairs to check on Rafe. “Why is she ignoring me?” Rafe complains with sadness in his voice. “I don’t know, dude. When did she start ignoring you?” Mason inquires. Rafe looks at him with an almost puppy-dog look in his eyes, “I’m not sure, I haven’t seen her since last week because my dad has been forcing me to sleep at home. But I know she was talking to me then because I took her to McDonald’s.” “Maybe she just had a bad day and she reset to before you started trying to befriend her. She just needs time,” Mason reasons. Rafe mumbles a sad maybe as he hopes what Mason says is true.

———

Midsummer. The excuse the elite use to display their wealth through clothes and to come together to brag about themselves. It is where young lovers will announce their courtship to the rest of the Kooks just to make other people jealous. Y/N is helping her mother get ready for the event by helping her with her hair and makeup. “My love, have you seen my tie?” Her dad inquires as he walks into his bedroom with a misbuttoned shirt and suit jacket on. Cassie looks up at her husband through the mirror and laughs at his dishevelled state, “Vin, it’s right here. With my dress, remember?” She gets up from her vanity and grabs the tie that matches her dress. Cassie rebuttons Marvin's shirt and then ties his tie for him. “You are the smartest person I know, Vin. But I swear, if I wasn’t here to screw you head on every morning, you’d forget where it is.” She finishes up the tie and gives him a kiss on the cheek before going back to her daughter.

As Y/N watches the domestic scene before her, she can’t help but wonder if she’d ever have moments like this with Wilson. She can’t imagine he is the type of person to ask for help if he needed it. Rafe would though, at least from her he would. Even if he didn't need it, he would still ask because he knows it makes her feel needed and happy. But Y/N and Rafe would never get moments like this. She shouldn’t want to have them with him. “Sweetie, did you hear me?” Cassie says, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

“No, can you say that again, please?” Y/N mumbles while focusing on her mom’s hair again.

“Are you driving with us or Wilson?”

“Wilson, he’s picking me up in 30 minutes”

———

Y/N answers the door when Wilson knocks. He is wearing exactly what he said he would, “You look beautiful, Y/N. Where are your parents? I should say hello before we go. ” “Thanks. And they are already on their way to the club with Mace,” she gives him a tight-lipped smile, making her way to his car. “Oh, I guess I will meet them there.”

During the ride to the country club, it is mostly silent until Y/N breaks the silence with an idea she had. “I was thinking of starting a YA book club at the country club. Would you like to join?” Wilson glances at her with a funny look on his face, “Do not be ridiculous. You know I do not read those silly books.” Y/N’s shy smile turns into a frown and she slowly slumps in her seat, turning towards the window. “All you had to say was no. You don’t have to be so rude about this.” Wilson sighs at this, “I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you. I just do not understand what you find so entertaining about those books.” “It’s fine, I get it,” she brushes it off curtly.

After a silent car ride, they finally make it to the club. They find Mason and Rafe near the bar upon entering. “Hey, Mace. How has everything been going on here so far?” It doesn’t go unnoticed by the boys that she is still ignoring Rafe. He wants to speak up but is afraid of being turned down by her and being embarrassed. He quickly looks away to not make her uncomfortable. “Hello, Y/N/N. Wilson. And it’s been okay. Hey, look you and Rafe are matching,” Mason points out after Wilson says his hello. At this, Rafe’s head turns to see what she is wearing. It’s true, she is wearing a blush dress that perfectly matches his blush suit jacket, which he definitely didn’t pick because it reminded him of her. She looked incredible in the dress. The way it kissed the bottom of her knees. The way the lace on the shoulders teased at the skin below. The way the pleats draw attention to her breast. The way the bright colours of her flower crown match the joy on her face. This may be his new favourite dress.

“Come on, I see my parents over there,” Y/N announces, ignoring Mason’s observation, as she drags Wilson over to Cassie and Marvin, leaving her brother and his best friend behind. “Mom, come meet Wilson.” The younger couple approaches the older one quite quickly.

Rafe stands near the bar with Mason, watching the scene with jealousy. Even though he’s known Cassie and Marvin for around 12 years now, he wants to be the one being introduced to them as Y/N’s boyfriend. Mason pats Rafe’s back in a comforting and sad manner. “Let’s go see if we can find that bartender that doesn’t check for id,” Mason suggests in hopes of cheering his friend up.

Meanwhile, Y/N is introducing Wilson to her mom. “Dad, you’ve already met Wilson. So mom, this is Wilson. We’ve been seeing each other. Wilson, this is my mom, who you might’ve noticed is Cassie Y/L/N.” Wilson eagerly reaches his hand out for Cassie to check, “It is lovely to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N. I love your early works. Your daughter is also great.” Cassie finds it odd that Wilson would mention her books before her daughter but says nothing about it. “Thank you. I’m very proud of both, but especially my Y/N/N.” At that moment, Y/N’s favourite song started to play. “Wilson, will you come dance with me?” He shakes his head, which again causes a frown on Y/N’s face, “I am sorry. I only dance to jazz or classical music. I will request one of my favourites so we can dance to that later.” “Oh okay, I’ll just go dance with Lacey,” Y/N reasons as she goes to find her best friend, while Wilson is talking to Cassie about her writing.

Rafe had been drinking to forget. Forget that all the progress he made with befriending Y/N had gone away for some unknown reason. All he wanted to do was forget about her and what a cliche way he decided to do it. He decides to hook up with Elizabeth Huntington to make his troubles go away. In hindsight, that is a worse idea because of who he decided to try to hook up with. Elizabeth is Y/N’s classic rival. Both girls are vying for the spot of valedictorian this year. Even though Y/N is much more introverted than Elizabeth, she couldn’t help but be a little jealous of Elizabeth’s life of the party personality. Rafe and Elizabeth are in a supply closet heavily making out and trying to rid each other of clothes. Elizabeth’s hands shoot to tangle in his hair. She gently tugs on it which causes him to groan out a name, just the wrong one. “Y/N.” Elizabeth immediately stops her assault. “Seriously? You’re just using me to forget about her,” she grumbles. She readjusted her dress before leaving the closet. Rafe groans again and runs his fingers through his hair. He leaves after fixing himself up, not realizing that Y/N is watching while she dances with Wilson.

Elizabeth leaving with a huff is what first caught Y/N’s eyes. She was curious about who Elizabeth was in the closet with. However, when Y/N sees Rafe exit the same closet as Elizabeth, her heart sinks. Rafe knows how she feels about Elizabeth and she thought he felt the same way every time they had a moment together. But she now sees she is wrong because if he did feel the same way, then he wouldn’t be hooking up with the person that makes her feel so insecure.

Rafe spots Y/N dancing with Wilson and he feels a pang shoot through his heart. Guilt about what he was about to do immediately washes over him. If Y/N had seen him, it could’ve been the end of anything they could’ve been. He knew she felt the same way as he did during their moments; if he ruined that, he’d never forgive himself. Little did he know it was already too late.

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @terraeluce

#thorn in my side rose in my hand #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron series #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you

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