#powder room talk
Note
Ooooh lacy falls asleep watching a movie with eddie and he hears her having a sex dream
an: LMAO I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! alright MINORS DNI i have no problem sending swarms of bees to your houses and also warning for somnophilia (kinda) and hands free ejaculation
first of all, who the hell falls asleep during the warriors?!
the gramercy riffs have just dedicated 'nowhere to run' by arnold mcculler to the warriors and shit is about to go down and your head is bobbing forward on eddie's worn-out couch.
he rolls his eyes at you-- really? "hey." a finger jabs at your knee from the opposite sagging end of the couch. "wakey-wakey. it's just about to get good over here."
"mm-- i'm awake!" you jump, but your eyes barely flicker back open, lashes all heavy and voice all loopy.
"tough day at the office?"
"you would not believe." he watches you struggle to muffle a yawn and pinch your cheeks to liven yourself up. "christmas returns. you remember all those old men that kept coming in and buying copies of the joy of sex?"
eddie guffaws lightly. "uh-huh."
"well, today i met their wives."
eddie mouths a little 'oh no!' and you chorus back 'oh yeah!' and even then, with your cheek shoved against the heel of your hand, he can see you're struggling for consciousness.
"lie down," he tells you. your brow furrows, because you're always more stubborn than tired.
"but the movie--" "fuck the movie. well, no, it's a great movie but just-- take a load off."
you sit up a touch straighter and eddie's about to give you shit about always being such a little pushback. but then you decide, "okay. just for a sec."
what he doesn't expect is for your head to land in his lap.
i mean, couches, opposite ends, you could have cozied yourself up against the slouching arm, but no. you decided to stretch yourself forward and settle with your head basically in his crotch. facing the ceiling. facing him.
eddie's breath shallows as you look up at him, your expression the closest thing to peaceful he's maybe ever seen you. you don't even have that little hitch between your eyebrows you sport like a uniform. looks like that night in his trailer, when he hid you away in his bedroom, which-- look, memory lane is not on the agenda for tonight.
"do me a favor?" you say, and your voice is this cracked little purr.
your hand blindly tugs at his, resting it on the crown of your head. oh. right. that hair petting thing. that thing he gets you to do when you're not being such a pill or he's worn you out from being such a pill. you're so nice with your fingers, see, pressing them against his scalp in a way that makes his whole body shiver. scratching a little sometimes-- a little too harsh sometimes, which makes him cringe away. but not because it hurts. because it... does other things.
eddie sighs, like it's really putting him out, like you do, and slides his fingers into your hair. but that's nothing compared to the sigh you let out.
fuck you. how can one little puff of air make him want to flip you over and mount you?
but he's trying to be normal about this-- he's trying so hard, because you're friends, right?
he doesn't think before he says it. "that feel good?"
"mm-hm," you mumble, hand sliding across your stomach, tucking under your breasts, getting comfortable. "mm-hm... careful of your rings, though."
"i'll be... i'll be careful."
"thanks, eddie." your fingers rise to brush against his tummy, some physical acknowledgement of gratitude that he's sure you mean as like, a nudge on the shoulder or a slap on the back or a high five or a fist bump but it sure as fuck doesn't feel like that.
especially when your fingers stay there, suspended in position as you've fallen asleep almost instantly. like stick a fork in you, you're done.
which is a relief. because less movement from you means less focus on you, which means eddie can pretend to watch the movie and pray away the halfsie that is nestled at the back of your skull.
problem is, you're awfully hard to stop looking at.
as your breathing deepens, his fingers slow and he just... watches you. the ascent and descent of your chest. the soft flicker behind your eyelids. the way your mouth parts ever-so-slightly. you're exhausted, but you're relaxed and he-- alright, fucking shoot him, he feels a little responsible for that? a little proud, okay? you're never relaxed. you're so high strung and sharp, but the edges of that seem to dull around him a touch. especially on nights like these.
eddie finally deludes himself into chilling out enough to tune back into the warriors, and then you make a sound.
it's a soft one, but enough to pucker your lips out of shape.
"ohmm."
eddie freezes, jaw winching. your fingers flick involuntarily against his stomach-- a twitch. a very dangerous twitch.
you make another noise and fuck him, if it doesn't sound like the first delicious note of a whimper. oh god.
and his fingers are still tangled in your hair. ruffling a little, breathing out heavily through his nose, he goes, "lace-- lacy," but it's zero response from you. just a hitch in those eyebrows.
and so lazily, so feline, he feels you sleepily nudge into his touch. if he didn't know any better (he doesn't, for the record, he's never known anything in his life other than this moment, if you really want to know), he'd think that was a sign to... keep going.
digits move against your scalp and he watches, unblinking, as your lips part. a sigh flies out, and not the kind you make when you're fed up with him, not the kind you make when you get a less-than-perfect grade or snag your tights or have a headache... not that kind.
different. sweet. the way he though you might sound, once all those defenses were smashed down. how much is it to rent a bulldozer.
his dumbass, age-old pajama pants are tightening by the second and they don't hide a fuckin' thing. how are you not feeling this.
well, whether you are or you aren't, he's still moving his fingers through your hair and you seem to like that and he's so, so happy, like he's so, so stoked but-- watching the breath hitch in your chest, watching the way your tits kind of slope out of the neckline of your shirt, watching goosebumps flash across your skin.
jesus christ, he can see your nipples through that thin little top you're wearing. tight and pointed, an illusion through the slinky cotton and binding of your bra.
eddie's teeth tighten into his bottom lip, his free hand gripping the back of the couch. this symphony of quiet, broken sounds coming out of you is a full extended play in and of itself, and he wants you on repeat. forever.
your hips lift the tiniest fraction. your fingers, still curled up by his belly, stretch and catch at his t-shirt.
"oh, fuck," eddie breathes, hoping he's quiet enough.
he's doing everything, and he means everything, not to move his hips even one iota even though his cock is crying out-- crying out for you, for your hands, for your mouth, for the crook of your fucking arm, anything so long as it's you.
"mmnm," you mumble, completely unaware, thighs rubbing off one another.
aching. dashing a wet spot right under your pretty, brilliant, terrifying, pretty head.
oh, fucking wake up-- feel me-- but don't, because what if the illusion shatters, what if the bubble bursts, what if you see him for the filthy fucking pervert that he is, getting off on watching you sleep. stroking your hair, making you make those noises-- the fucking sounds coming from those pouted, pillowy lips of yours.
he throbs, and your other hand jerks up to your chest, and his thumb strokes the right side of your skull and you moan. full-bodied. almost real.
it's so dangerous. he wants to turn you over and plunge his cock past your smartass mouth and weaken immediately because you're you and he's him and he will end up begging you to let him gloss your lips with his cum.
too much! way too much! eddie has to bite down on the shoulder of his own shirt as his body tenses, his balls tighten, his vision blacks out--
his eyes squeeze shut, hand freezing on your head. moisture spreads like guilt across his conscience.
fuck. fuck. fuckfuckfuck!
eddie's eyes snap open and he doesn't waste a second of time. he grabs you by the shoulders and shoves you up and away from him.
"wmwhatthefuck--" "--gotta piss. move."
but he sorely underestimates just how dizzy he's going to be when he stands up. he stumbles to the bathroom like keith richards getting off a ride at six flags.
"eddie?" you huskily mumble after him, and he's like, ready to kill you. ready to kill you. ready to give you a home lobotomy so you never say his name all needy and crackly and lovely like that ever again.
when he eventually slinks back, different pants on this time, you give them a pointed look. you're all criss-cross applesauce on the couch and he, like, fucking hates you and wants to carry you to his bedroom bridal style and tear off your panties in a single mouthful.
"costume change?" you ask.
"you snore like a coal miner, you know that?"
eddie's never wanted to fuck a coal miner before.
#powder room talk#deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth#hai brainrot#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#so anyway i'm gonna eat some soup#l. doevski by powder
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we have GOT to ban “normal” people from talking about mental illness
i am going to start skinning either them or myself
#THIS CONVERSATION HAPPENINF IN THE ROOM RIGJT NOW.. BITES YOUR NECK AND RIPS#Oh my god ohh my god I need a hammer I can fix this#my boss came in. just to start. oh my god.#sitting here trying to be so calm#they don’t know. they’re talking about me. and they don’t know. please just call me a slur it wouldn’t hurt. but this does. HELP!#GRINDS YOU TO A FINE POWDER..#There.
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The other day I made meatbuns again but usually someone ELSE marinades and cooks the meat first before I recook it and add vegetables and seasoning. So I did that for the first time and totally messed up. Too much water, not the right color, charred the sides, it ended up being kinda flavorless. So when I recooked it I added a bit more oyster sauce just so it would taste like SOMETHING. Somehow, everyone else likes it better than usual. It's sweeter than usual, but I prefer salty meatbuns so I'm the only one not satisfied :/
#talking tag#marinade pork in xia siu powder bought from the store after its sat for like 8 hours sear the sides on the frying pan#then cover the pan then flip after 15 minutes then flip after 15 minutes idk this is the part i messed up on dont trust me then add a bit#of water to let it steam i guess and cover it then once its all cooked through and not charred take it out chop into half centimeter cubes#then dice half an onion then add oil to the bottom of the pan and cook the onions until fragrant then add the meat cubes then add 1 large#spoonful of hoisin sauce oyster sauce and suger then add a mixture of a half cup of water and a large spoonful of flour then stir and cook#until the water dissipates and it just kinda looks like moist meat slop then set it aside and let it cool and like stir it up every now and#then so it cools faster yknow then to make the dough you get 1 cup of room temp milk and add 2 tsp instant yeast then mix and set aside#then get 500g flour 90g sugar 0.25 tsp salt 1 egg 1 stick of butter softened add the milk and yeast mixture then knead#let rest for 20 minutes then divide into 12 portions#flatten with roller and wrap filling with dough then brush egg yolk over the top bake in oven at 320F for 15 minutes then change temp to#350F for 15 minutes take it out then brush a mixture of equal parts melted butter and honey over the top except i skip this part because it#makes it sticky and gross to store in a plastic bag#one time i made the filling out of leftover rotisserie chicken and cabbage and the same sauces and sugar so the filling can be anything#i also once had leftover dough so i made biscuits. they taste like biscuits i dont know what i expected. i dont like biscuits
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Every year I am reminded why I absolutely despise Thanksgiving
#Deviled egg mix is not SOUR#There is NOTHING in there that is SOUR#I would know because I made it myself#My sister WATCHED ME MAKE THE DEVILED EGGS (while getting underfoot the whole time and making me almost cut her twice)#She saw me put in the eggs yolks the mayo the mustard the paprika the egg whites she “accidentally” made me cut open so they can't hold any#And a little bit of garlic powder and salt#And this bitch still has the audacity to say that the mix I made is SOUR#I'm sorry you don't have taste buds bitch but this is not SOUR it is PERFECT deviled egg mix#ignore if you want#sparky speaks#Brought to you by one of several arguments I've had with my various family members today#This one just happened to be the one that made me have to leave the room before I slapped a bitch#Other topics of argument include:#The fact that I am still single (I'm trying but nobody wants to date me)#The fact that I am not attending college yet (I'm broke and can't afford to right now)#And the fact that I haven't talked to my father in months (I'm traumatized from years of emotional abuse from him)#But I still talk to my mother on a regular basis (because she didn't traumatize me by trying to gaslight me into thinking I was straight)#(and she didn't blame me for making my sister think she was queer while simultaneously trying to gaslight me into thinking I was straight)#(and she never tried to gaslight me into thinking that she never tried to gaslight me in the first place)#This lowkey turned into a bit of a trauma dump my bad
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why has my brain been acting like i didn't take my adhd meds today even though I 100% know I did take them
#i know my meds have already worn off my now but like#come ON i just wanna read things!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#I'm trying so hard but it's just me reading a paragraph and realizing I have no fucking clue what I just read and reading it again#AUGHHHHHHHHHHH#I'm just having a day i guess#started with me having to turn back around on my way to work bc i realized i forgot my meds. lol.#and then it felt like i was taking foreverrrrr to clean rooms at work. 5 rooms should be no problem but i barely got 4 done???#to be fair one of those was really fucking messy. broken glass and foundation (?) powder all over the counter#and i dont think they knew how to use a keurig bc the tray that it sits on was full of coffee.#honestly the vibes were off since i had to turn around for my meds. thats what threw me off#well whatever im gonna lay down#ty talks
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common tongue of you lovin' me
🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut
🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader
wc: 2.5k
content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope
foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o
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By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.
Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.
You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake.
Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.
He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.
Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night.
Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…
Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.
You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.
“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”
“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”
Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”
You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.
Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.
“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.
He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”
There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”
He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”
“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his.
“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim.
When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly.
So he does want to touch you. Interesting.
You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.
But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?
Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first.
You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.
“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.
Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.
It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.
He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.
When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening.
“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”
“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.
“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.
The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.
You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.
“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.
Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”
So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up.
Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”
When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.
“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”
He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.
Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.
He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.
Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”
“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing.
Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.
“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”
Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”
He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”
You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”
“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”
He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.
When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.
“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”
His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”
“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”
You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him.
The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy.
“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”
“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat.
Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release.
You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths.
“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.
His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”
Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”
You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”
He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”
He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.
He whispers, “Can I ask you something?”
When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”
You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck.
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guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x you#e.m. thots from lu#drabble#smut#mdni
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pass the salt • e.m. smut
DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER
summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.
authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI
disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks
NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink
The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.
Dad never cooks.
For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.
Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.
Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.
“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”
The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.
Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.
The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.
“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”
When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.
You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.
Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.
“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”
"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."
The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.
There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.
When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.
You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.
Eddie's no better.
It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…
Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.
“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”
“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.
“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”
“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.
And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.
“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.
Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.
Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.
“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”
“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.
“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”
“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.
Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.
Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.
Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.
You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.
“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”
“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.
Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.
“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”
“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.
“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.
The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.
“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.
“Nothing, why?”
“You just looked stunned.”
“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”
“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”
The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.
…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.
“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.
“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”
“You are so welcome.”
Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.
…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.
While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.
“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”
And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.
“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”
And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.
“Yes, yes I did.”
…And then there’s dessert after dinner.
Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.
…The final instance takes the cake.
“What’s your major?”
You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.
“History.”
“Sounds boring.”
“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.
“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”
Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.
“Oh my god!” you yelp.
Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.
Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.
Phew. Crisis averted.
Your eyes meet again.
“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”
“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”
You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.
But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.
Slam!
Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.
“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”
———
To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.
“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”
You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.
“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”
You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.
So, so wrong. But oh, so right.
You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.
He doesn’t.
“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”
Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.
“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.
“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.
“Mhm,” you nod.
“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”
“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.
——
Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.
Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.
“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.
“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”
Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.
You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”
Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.
He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”
Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.
But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.
“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.
“Yeah,” you breathe.
“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.
You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.
You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.
A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.
"I'm sorry," you whisper.
"For what?”
You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.
“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.
“I’m not,” you insist.
“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”
He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.
“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”
“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”
Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.
Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.
“Oldest trick in the book.”
You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.
“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.
“No, Eddie.”
“Didn’t think so.”
He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.
His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.
"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"
Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.
The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.
Fuck.
Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.
“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”
Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.
“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."
You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.
“Oh.”
Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.
You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.
"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”
You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.
A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.
"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."
And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.
"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.
He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.
That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.
And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.
“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”
The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.
You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.
“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”
And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.
The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.
“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”
You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,
“I was just tryna help her out.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#older! eddie munson#older!eddie#older!eddie munson smut#older!eddie smut#dad’s best friend!eddie#dad’s best friend!eddie munson#dom!eddie#dom!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x reader smut
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ENHA HYUNG LINE!--- fucking the attitude out of you
18+, slut shaming, hair pulling, skirt in jay's part, mascara mention, fem!reader
⠀⠀ ⠀myslut masterlist
HEESEUNG's seen your bad attitude before, he doesn't think he's ever had to deal with it himself. he's already had a bad day and he's not going to be putting up with you! he's more stern than he is mean, commanding voice coming in as he talks to you, makes you seem so small. "i think you can take a little more , yeah?" he groans, slowly fucking his cock into your cunt.
he takes his time with you, dragging it out despite your protest for him to go harder, faster. "not the time to be making demands baby." he says, hand grasping your waist firmly. has you a sobbing mess by the time he really starts fucking you, deep strokes. you're blurry eyed, telling him it won't happen again. "aww, you're sorry now?" still rocking his hips into yours at that slow pace. he wants to destroy your cunt too, but you look so pretty like this. "c'mon baby, just a little longer."
JAY has about had it with you. he has so much leniency when it comes to you, or usually he does; you're basically his princess. this man cooks for you, massages you. but the way you've been talking to him today? teasing him and talking to him about other guys? oh you're fucking in for it.
the second he's fed up, he's pulling you into the nearest private spot he can find. bathroom, fitting room, a fucking cleaning closet. bends you over and lifts your skirt up, presses you against a wall, runs his hands over your ass cheeks and pulls your panties to the side. he's so rough when he fucks into you, grunting "you just needed my cock, fucking slut? you go stupid without it, huh?" he's so fucking mean, bullying you and pounding your cunt. and even when you hit your climax, creaming on his cock, he's still going. "oh don't think we're done because you came baby."
JAKE isn't exactly sure how to deal with you being a brat. you've never been like this with him before, and it has him thinking it's because of something he's done. maybe he didn't fuck you hard enough, huh. so instead he's fucking you stupid the next time he sees you.
pushing you against a surface and peeling your panties off, and grabbing your thighs. he's kissing you, entangling his fingers with yours. "gonna make you feel good, okay?" he says, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin. the second his cockhead pushes between your wet folds he's whimpering, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. he's not even sure if this is for you or for him at this point. "'m sorry baby. fuck, need you to be a good girl again, kay?"
SUNGHOON doesn't have time to deal with you being a brat! he's so simple about it—same punishment everytime. he tells you to open up, sees the way you look at him with shiny eyes before shoving his cock inside your mouth. doesn't stop even when there's tears streaming down your face, murmuring a little, "someone needs to shut you up." he knows you're getting off to it to, sees the way your own hips are bucking against air.
"you just love been treated like a slut, huh?" he hums, grip are your hair holding you still. you're gagging, mascara now powdered on your cheeks and he loves it. loves how messed up you look below him on your aching knees. "aww, baby your makeup got all messed up. gonna do it on my lap later?" he can't wait to have you sit prettily for him, let him have his way with you then too.
#enha smut#heeseung smut#jay smut#jake smut#sunghoon smut#heesung x reader#jay x reader#jake x reader#sunghoon x reader#enha x reader#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen x reader#smut drabble#x fem!reader#🥽—✩ enhypen
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🎵 + Steve or Eddie please :)
send me 🎵+ character name and i’ll write a lil blurb inspired by a song from their playlist (you can also request songs and i will do my level best. god is a dj and i'm god)
▶ IN MY BED - AMY WINEHOUSE
yours is a familiar face, but that don't make your place safe or you're fucking both steve and eddie on a casual basis and they're kinda clingy and jealous like peanut and butter
an: OH SHE'S SMUTTY. is this on either of the playlists i've made for steve or eddie. technically no. did i just hear it on shuffle and get inspired to write about having a hawkins slut era. technically yes. but the best part is you asked for steve or eddie and you got both, anon!!
MINORS FUCK OFF - warnings: heavy smut from the get-go; unprotected p-in-v, allusions to cunnilingus and fellatio, public sex, semi-mean!reader, leaving steve with blue balls, forceful!eddie, some mild degradation (use of the word slut, etc), hope u enjoy and hope we can coerce them into a threesome some day. it would save reader so much time
word count: 3.6k
You can't keep playing with boys like that, y'know. Somebody's going to get hurt.
As long as that somebody isn't you, you're pretty far past the point of giving a fuck.
You had emerged from the painful chrysalis of Hawkins adolescence with a great rack and a huge fucking chip on your shoulder. So much time wasted, lingering in the limbo of awkwardness and timidity, not even with the credit of being humiliated by your peers. You were glossed over, completely unnoticed by the opposite sex (and even the same sex that you'd daringly fantasize about in the dark of night).
You spent so much time sitting with your hands stuck shyly between your legs that it was only right that King Steve Harrington is now pleadingly prying them apart.
"What time did you say you had to leave, again?" he says, voice strained against the shell of your ear. Steve's fingers are making dents in the softness of your inner thighs as he spreads your legs further and futher away from one another. You're sitting pretty on his kitchen table, a place you'd chosen on purpose because from there, you could flash him the bright blue of your panties under your short, short work skirt.
Work skirt was a loose term, but you found you made better tips at the Hideout when you dressed more scantily than you'd like. Something something clientele, something something dinner and a show.
Something your co-worker had said.
All you knew was whenever you showed up at Steve's dressed for a bar shift, it drove him crazy. It drew him right to you, moth to flame, fly to spider's web, turning him all desperate and whining and eager to please. Like a dog.
"Mmm," you hum, glancing at your watch, "'bout fifteen."
You loved driving Steve crazy. Thrived on it– and part of it was a private revenge fantasy. All those years gone by using him as shower nozzle masturbation material, and now you were the one he couldn't get enough of.
His nose teases at your lips as he continues to massage into your thighs. And you admit, he's good with his hands– deliberate pressure, making the wetness at your core spread.
"Call off. Say you're sick," and his right hand is pulling at the gusset of your panties. Your hips keen toward him, an automatic response, and he strokes a knuckle down the glistening slit of your lips.
"Sick how," you ask, not really desiring an answer, talking just to talk as you web your fingers into his hair. You've noticed that the only time he's not precious about it is when you're about to fuck. Then, you can muss up his hairdo all you want.
"I couuuld," he murmurs, "make you scream my name so loud--"
The middle and ring fingers on Steve's right hand sinks inside you, down to the knuckle. You swallow a little moan, but it strangles itself out anyway.
"--that they think you have laryngitis."
You skitter out a snort, despite the fact that he's stroking you real nice with his fingers. It's so silly; it's exactly the kind of thing you'd come to expect from Steve. You used to overhear Nancy Wheeler in the hallways being all, you're an idiot, Steve Harrington. Tone dripping in affection. And you got it now, you did.
"Come on," he says, tongue ghosting at your neck as the pad of a finger circles that drop of nerves between your legs, "Take the day." He swallows. "Stay with me."
But you weren't his fuckin' girlfriend.
To be completely straight, you'd been skirting around this thing for a while– the moony-eyed way Steve would look at you after he'd cum, the trapping you in the bedsheets with peppered kisses, the recreational sports games he'd keep inviting you to and you'd keep bailing on. You couldn't even remember if he played baseball or basketball. And you didn't... care.
"I just don't know why you work in that dump," Steve says, attempting to stick a little edge on that moment of softness. But his fingers had stopped moving inside you, which quite simply would not do.
"Because," you say, you with the hard edge, you with the steeliness he can't seem to get enough of, "some of us," your hand reaches down to clamp onto his, "don't have a choice what dumps we work in," and you begin to rut onto his hand, grinding into his palm. In order to get this show on the road, you add in one pretty little groan. "... your highness."
Your slickness makes an obscene squelch and Steve's jaw cocks open, his blown-out pupils meeting yours. "Fuckin'... shit. I'd pay to keep you here if you promised to do that all day."
And you know he'd love that, to make you a kept woman. But Hawkins rich isn't kept woman rich, and you've got bills to pay.
"That can be arranged," you whisper, biting at his finely sculpted jaw, "but if you wanna put your cock in me today, you better make it fast. Those beers ain’t gonna sling themselves."
“Yeah—yeah.” Steve fumbles, aiding you in pulling off your panties. You wrap them around his wrist for safekeeping, because this skirt is way too tiny to go commando in. Flash your ass at your co-worker and you’d never live it down.
Steve unbuckles and yanks his khakis down his thighs, a remarkably unsexy clothing choice on anyone else but him. You like him the most like this— pliable, willing to do whatever you say.
You hitch your knees up, bracing the heels of your tennis shoes against the edge of the table. Steve moves to hitch your skirt up, set his hands at ten and two on your hips, but his fingers travel upward to your shirt. It’s this threadbare Janis Joplin thing, another strategic choice. It’s tight enough that you needn’t bother with a bra and also tight enough that any passing wind chill makes your nipples stand to attention. It’s hot in here, so the way they strain against the material is all Steve’s doing.
“Take this off?” It’s a request. Sometimes you wish it’d be a demand. Anyway. You pull it over your head and the way he kneads at your tits makes up for it completely. His tongue, hot and strong and ready, laves over a nipple and you shiver.
“Steve, babe,” you whine, “tick tock.”
You reach down and grab his cock, sprung free from his boxers like a jailbreak, and guide it inside you.
His dick is long and lithe like the rest of him, with this perfectly bulbous tip that caresses that pretty spot, that one that makes you open-mouth moan into his shoulder, right on entrance.
Steve rocks his hips into yours, one of his big hands cupping at your jaw. “So nice, right?” he says, licking into your mouth.
“So fucking nice.” But now is not the time for one of Steve Harrington’s classic slow jams, a drawn-out fuckfest that would ordinarily leave you rosy and blissed out. Now, you need him—
“Harder,” you breathe, “fuck me harder. Faster, baby, please. I need— I have to get you off before I leave.”
Steve is a giver, but talk like that makes him feral. He'll rarely ever take control with you, rather wait for your permission to let him take control. Which is nice, you guess, consent and all that but it kind of snuffs the fire out for you sometimes. The process takes a little longer than it needs to.
But god, when he gets into a rhythm, there's no stopping him. He guides you (when he could have shoved you) back onto your elbows as his length drills in and out of you. He bears over you with that slyly muscular frame, face buried in your breasts, keeping up a relentless pace that almost, almost has your legs seizing, almost–
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
“Fuck!” and it’s too sharp a curse to be one of pleasure. Steve is lost in you entirely, so much so that you have to tug at the hairs at the nape of his neck to get his focused attention. “Stevie, I gotta go.”
“No–fuck, come on, I’m so close.” You’ve fucked Steve Harrington enough times to know that he’s nowhere near close, that he’s got a position or two left in him before knockout. Your square stare communicates this perfectly; but he doesn’t stop, his pace just slows. Achingly slows, the way he loves to do when you’re right at the apex of an orgasm and he wants to hear the extended version of your desperate pleading. “You can be late.”
“No, I can’t,” you grumble, palming around for your discarded shirt. “I’m opening. Drunks are--mmm--lining up around the block to see me.” And my goddamn co-opener is always late. “Down, boy.”
“Fii-ii-iine,” he groans, voice cracking as his heartbeat slows in his chest. You can just about feel it thumping from here. He eases himself out of you, but doesn’t make any swift movements away from you. Pink lips, so pink that you’d once hornily remarked they were almost the same color as your pussy, pout as he stares up at you from beneath his bushy brows. God, he looks pathetic.
He’s so fucking hot.
You unwind your bright blue underwear from his wrist slowly. “You mad at me?”
“Little bit,” he murmurs, “Leaving someone with blue balls is like, a serious health hazard. You know that, don’t you?”
“Forgot you were pre-med, Steve.” Oh, that man is not pre-anything other than pre-cumming.
“If you get back here and I don’t answer the door because I’m dead from unfulfilled horniness, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”
“That is, assuming I’ll be back?” This little exercise in reminding Steve of the fluidity of your relationship earns you the most heartbreaking little scoff. You can’t help but hold his hand to your now-reclothed chest and peck a kiss to his lips. “Kidding. I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
“I’ll be thinking about finishing you off for my whole shift, if that helps,” you hum against his mouth, which is already hungrily looking for more of you.
“How ‘bout I pick you up after?”
“Mmm, I don’t know.” Look, as much as you like Steve, and you do, you like him lots, you really need a night to recharge your social battery after the shift you’re about to have.
Especially when your co-worker comes sneaking in the door a whole 15 minutes late.
“Hey!” he whispers, making a whole pantomime of shiftily stepping inside, eyes darting around underneath his curly bangs, “Bev around?”
“You know as well as I do that she’s still on that cruise, Eddie.”
“And thank fuck for that, am I right?!” A ringed hand comes down hard on the bartop, making your glass of off-brand cola rattle. Something inside you clenches as Eddie Munson beams down at you. “God bless the Indiana Sweepstakes.”
You chuckle out a little mm-hmm! and return to the crossword book someone had abandoned here months ago. When it’s slow, you and Eddie try and fail to figure out the clues, which has lead to interspersed shittalking, which has led to flirting. Which has led to… other things. On the clock and off.
The natural course of which a river flows.
Speaking of wet things, you cross one leg over the other. You hadn’t, as it happened, stopped thinking about Steve’s absence between your thighs since you’d gunned your shitty car out of his building’s driveway. Though, the closer you got to The Hideout, the less that absence became about Steve and more became about… well, anyone.
What? You’re a red-blooded American woman with a healthy sex drive.
And you’ve seen how Eddie Munson handles the wheel of a car. Forceful. Relentless. Wild.
“Figured out where I know you from, by the way,” he says, snatching the bar towel from your shoulder and throwing it over his own.
“Hey! Those things are in short supply, asshole, get your own.”
“Finders keepers,” Eddie smirks, “And– Spanish class, sophomore year.”
Cringing falsely, you toss your hands up in surrender. “Ay papi. You got me.”
“You told me you were from Oregon, you little liar.”
“And you believed me, right?” you shrug. “Not surprising that you didn’t clock me right away. I was kind of unremarkable.”
Eddie squidges past you in the narrow space behind the bar, leaning around you for something– for what, you don’t really register, because he lingers there a little longer than he needs to. You can feel his breath on your neck. “Certainly not unremarkable now, huh?” His fingers ghost at your waist. “Nice shirt.”
See, the thing you’ve found with Eddie is he doesn’t waste any time.
He’s a lifer at The Hideout, worked here all through high school, right up to now. After your first couple of shifts, you locked yourselves in the bar for what he called a peer review. It only took a couple of shots of whiskey between you before he was on his knees, eating you out from your seat on the barstool. You ground yourself onto the slope of his nose, the tip making imperfect but workable contact with your clit as his tongue dove past your lips. Eddie had gripped onto you like a man possessed, determined to make you choke out his name through your orgasm.
But Eddie had never fucked you. He’d eaten you like a last meal, sure. He’d fingered you against the rough brick exterior of the bar, yep. You’d even given him road head the couple of times he’d given you a ride home after work, dawn breaking over Hawkins and Eddie struggling to drive in a straight line toward your apartment block. But he’d never fucked you.
“Thanks,” you respond, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “Guy I was fucking before I came in sure seemed to think so.”
Eddie’s mouth curls up into this devilish little grin. “You tryin’ to make me jealous, telling me you’re gettin’ dicked down before work?”
“To his credit, dicked down is,” you sigh, “a little bit of an understatement.”
“Couldn’t finish the job?”
“Not his fault. My alarm went off.”
“And you’re so punctual.”
“Always.”
Eddie’s hand tightens around its place on your waist, dimpling into the soft flesh. “So you’re left all… wanting, is the conclusion I’m coming to.”
“Yeah…” and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. From behind you, he angles his hips against your ass, a suggestion of a push upward. The material of your skirt catches, gathers and shifts against him so you can just about feel the swell of him on your almost bare ass.
“Oh, you little slut,” he says, and fuck, if you don’t love the way he says it. The hardness on the letter ‘t’. “Coming in here all dick-hungry. You’re asking me for a favor, then?”
“Least you could do,” you say lowly, “for leaving me hanging in here all the time.”
“Right,” Eddie nods, his hand travelling toward the hem of your skirt, “The opening rush is crazy around here.”
Ain’t a sinner in the bar but the two of you.
Eddie’s fingers crawl onto your thigh, reaching higher and higher, and you nearly let out a pitiful little moan in anticipation. All you want, all you want is to plant your hands on the bar and have him drive his cock into you, ringed fingers bruising the soft flesh of your hips. Chained jeans rattling.
So you move his hand to the waistband of your panties, not that it’s far off. A suggestion of pull these fucking things down.
Eddie’s eyes flare wide. Anybody could come in. Are you sure about this?
But you’re so fucking wet that a job like this isn’t going to take long. He might not cum, but you sure will. You sure fucking will, if he keeps looking at you like that. Like he wants to wrap a ringed hand around your throat and fuck you so good, you’ll forget even the regulars’ orders.
“Eddie,” you say, purposely wiggling against him as your panties fall to the floor, “C’mon. You’re telling me you’ll let me jerk you off in the keg room but you haven’t thought about how wet it makes me? How much I want you to just–!”
“Shut up,” he says, “Fuckin’ shut up. Bend over.”
Your pulse quickens, mouth popping open.
“I said,” Eddie starts, hands going to his silver belt, “bend over, slut.”
And boy, do you ever comply– Jesus. You’ve never seen him like this before, half-mad and fully hard. Usually, Eddie’s the kind of guy who’ll joke his way through a hookup. There’ll be flashes here and there, sure. He’s got no problem telling you where to put it and when. But this…
You bend at the waist, leaning against the bar for support and scoot your legs apart. A great idea on your part, you toss a look over your shoulder– Eddie’s pumping the length of himself, his free hand roaming over the curve of your ass. He notices you looking and gives it a solid smack!, fat jiggling on the recoil. The sight of that makes his eyes keen back in his head a little, a smile dancing at his lips.
“You better be ready to dance,” he says, fingers teasing at your slit before he enters you in one slow, slow, stretching movement. “We got customers coming in, any minute now.”
Eddie breathes out a little oh god! in response to feeling just how tight you are around him. He feels exactly as you expected him to– you knew he was big from taking him in your mouth but the girth of him makes you wince a little. Once he’s moving against your honeyed walls, you’re in fucking heaven. He’s thick and solid and this close to throbbing; he’d been waiting for this as long as you had.
“Don’t worry,” he strains reassuringly, palm coming in harsh contact with your ass cheek again, “You’re cummin’ first, sweetheart.”
The brazen moan, the sound all jittery from Eddie’s rutting into your pussy, seemed to echo in the empty bar.
God, the acoustics really were great in here.
The sound of his balls slapping against your gorgeous, plush ass joins the symphony and the sting of his force hitting your soft spot makes your eyes water. You want to look at him again– you have to. Your eyes go over your shoulder and Eddie’s there, fucking beautiful under the bar light’s glow and transfixed on the way your body’s moving against him. He doesn’t need any encouraging. His hand reaches for your throat, holding your chin in place so you can watch him fuck you, so he can watch your pretty face contort as you crest your orgasm.
Your cunt tightens around him and the sounds he starts making are nothing short of obscene– guttural, growling, snarling. “Fucking getting what you want now, aren’t you, baby girl? All you needed–uhnh–was my fucking–fat cock to cum all over–”
And it’s hitting you in waves you’d gladly drown in, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. You reach down to flick at your swollen clit, half-regretting you’re not drawing out the contractions of your pussy a little bit longer. “Good fucking girl, give me everything you got–”
“Cum inside me, Eddie, fucking please–” you cry, right over the crest of your orgasm.
“Huh?” He barely registers what you’ve said, talking you through the arresting drown of your orgasm. But then he gets it, and his eyes do that siren flare thing that they do. “Really? Yeah?”
“Yeah, fucking– yeah!” you yell, a little louder than you mean to, “Fill me, please, I want you drippin’ out of me all night–”
That’s enough for him to jerk and shudder, his noises becoming tauter, his thrusts becoming shorter, bottoming out inside you in a warm gush.
Fuck. Fuck.
“Fuck,” you blink, moving Eddie’s hand from your throat as he eases himself out of you.
“Yeah,” he breathes, pulling the bar towel from his shoulder to wipe himself off. “Fu-uuck.”
You turn back to face him and snatch the towel, patting between your own legs.
“Gross,” he chides.
“Finders keepers, asshole,” you giggle, breathless. And satisfied. That giggle bubbling out of you is contagious, because now Eddie’s giggling too. Peals and peals of silly laughter, fizzing out of you both like phosphate. That was fun. Eddie’s fun.
“Might wanna put those back on,” he points to the ground once he’s caught his breath. Oh right. Your panties.
“Yeah, I–”
But then the bar door swings open, your name called out through the entrance. Wait, is that–
“--fuckin’ Steve Harrington?” Eddie mutters, leaning over the bar to get a better look.
“Babe,” Steve says, catching sight of you with a little slip of red leather in his hand. “You forgot your…”
He pauses, Maybe he catches that you and Eddie are in a state of post-coital undoneness. I mean, the pink cheeks, the ruffled hair, Eddie’s half-secured belt may be a tip off, but…
“...wallet.”
But where a guilty feeling ought to have settled in, there’s no boats in your damn harbor. Steve Harrington, while lovely, was not your fuckin’ boyfriend. You pluck the wallet out of his hand as his eyes narrow, looking toward Eddie. Eddie, for his part, is putting the puzzle pieces together.
So it was Steve’s place you were running off to after shifts, Steve’s new car you were jumping out of when you arrived sometimes.
And he looks a little… jealous.
“Thanks, Stevie,” you say, blowing him a little kiss with the wallet. “You wanna drink while you’re here?”
“Nah, I– I gotta… I’m jettin’. So. Later? Later.” Steve Harrington, still struggling to be the epitome of cool. And failing miserably.
You give him a little wave and watch him, fondly, as he leaves. God bless Banana Republic and everything those should-be-fuck-ugly khakis have done for you. In your peripheral vision, Eddie appears next to you. Leaning on the bar. Glaring.
“What’s the matter, Munson?” you simper. “Cat got your dick?”
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Accidental Courtship :3
Accidental courtship
ft: Savanaclaw, Octavinella
cw: possible minor spelling errors (blame the dyslexia), established relationship, swearing, implied fem reader
Penguins have this adorable courtship ritual where the male gives the female a smooth pebble, if the female is impressed by the pebble she accepts the gift and mates with the male
I know that jade, Floyd, and Azul aren't penguins, but i thought it would be so cute if their s/o gave them a pebble and basically proposed but not knowing what it meant.
And for the beast-men (Leona, Jack, Ruggie) i thought it would be cute if there was a special beast-men way of courtship, I couldn't think of anything though, but then i remembered that for a lot of mammals (and animals in general) grooming is a form of bonding, so what if licking was a form of courtship?!?!
ENJOY
Savanaclaw
Leona: he awoke from his nap when he felt a pair of hands running through his hair, he sniffed the air, realizing it was just his s/o he closed his eyes once again, surrendering to the comforting feeling of your hands, he hated to admit it but he loved when you played with his hair, it was something he looked forward to and expected. what he didn't expect however was the sudden wet feeling that graced his cheek his eyes shot open and his head snapped in your direction
"so soon? at least wait till we graduate"
your so confused, he realizes that you probably dont know what you just did
"for beast-men, your lick was you asking me to marry you you dumb herbivore"
he wont admit it but his heart was pounding in his chest
Jack: he had finished his classes for the day and was walking around the campus grounds, when he spotted you his tail started to wag a bit, he attempted to stop, annoyed that he was giving away how he felt. he walked over to you, he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him you smiled up at him, kissing his cheek, he smiled at you and walked with you to the ramshackle dorm, you guys sat in the guest room you had been working on you had been pretty bored all day and wanted to do something to make you laugh, why not lick your boyfriend see what his silly reaction would be, little did you know the implications behind this supposedly innocent action. as soon as your tongue brushed his cheek he was off to sofa and staring at you in shock, he moved so fast that your tongue was still hanging out of you mouth
"i-im not ready"
his voice was shaky and his tail was wagging at a super sonic spread
"i mean you need to meet my parents and my siblings, and i dont have any money, i mean were still in high school, marriage is a very large leap"
you were so fucking confused Marriage? when you asked what he was talking about he looked at you confused
"you licked me... you want to marry me...right?"
you blushed and told him that in your world its just a weird thing to do. he sighed in
"so no marriage then, good, i love you but im not ready for that yet... try again in a few years"
he winked, his tail giving away his feelings
Ruggie: you had gotten some powdered donuts from Sam's store earlier and you were super excited to eat them, you rushed to your dorm hoping to avoid the food thief you called a boyfriend but it was useless, he could probly smell them from 3 miles away, he saw you running smelt the sweet scent of donuts and took off after you, he caught up quickly, snatching the box from you hands
"watcha got here shihihi"
he held the box out of your reach and took a donut out, he quickly shoved it into his mouth as you pouted, you loved him to death but god was he annoying sometimes you noticed how he had gotten some of the powdered sugar on his nose and an idea of revenge sprung into your mind, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down to you
"you gonna kiss me~" he teased you, he wrapped an arm around you resting a hand on the small of your back while his other held the donut box.
you licked his nose, he tensed up, his eyes widened and he stumbled back almost falling over
"i-i dont- i mean-" he turned around, he grabbed his ears and pressed them down, trying to calm himself down, he had never felt so flustered before, but could you blame him? his s/o just asked for his hand in marriage "i accept but... so soon?"
you looked at him confused, he took a moment, realizing that what is a marriage proposal for beast-men might not be the same for humans, but everyone was aware of the tradition, then it clicked, you weren't from here, you had no idea what you had just done. his blush was still there, and to be honest he was dissipated, he licked you cheek "that is a proposal for marriage" he admits, looking away embarrassed, he shoved the donut box back into your hands and quickly walked away mumbling a quick "i love you" his tail was small, but it was wagging as he zoomed away from you.
Octavinelle (penguin esc courtship)
Floyd: he hated working at the cafe, it was so boring, why would he work when he could be with his little shrimpy? he found you outside of the ramshackle dorm, you were on your hands and knees digging round a pile of rocks
"shrimpy~" he lifted you up and hugged you from behind "what are you doing?"
he asked, examining the rocks you held in your hands, you didn't answer, instead you picked on of the rocks you had and handed it to him, it was smooth, and had a faint blue undertone to it, he squealed and snatched it out of your hand, he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you till you felt like you were about to burst, he kissed you passionately before skipping off to tell his brother and Azul, you just stood there, confused as to why your boyfriend was so happy about the rock you gave him, i mean sure it was cool but was it that exciting for him? a couple hours later there was a knock on the door to the ramshackle dorm, you opened the door and say Floyd standing there frowning slightly
"do you know what a rock means"
you shook your head and you swear it looked like he was about to cry
"so you weren't asking me to marry you?"
you shook your head again, now understanding why he was so upset, you hugged him and kissed his cheek promising him to marry him one day, as soon as he heard that he was happy again, hugging and squeezing you all night long.
Jade: he was observing the mushroom he was growing, they had a strange mutation that he hadn't seen before and was eager to study, he was writing down the differences and comparing them to known mutations when suddenly you burst into his room clenching something in your hand, he turned to you smiling at you, he closed his mushroom guide and walked over to you, kissing your forehead and ruffling your hair, you hold out your hand and show a small smooth rock to him, he blushed, hugging you tightly
"are you aware of what your asking me?" he asked, his voice shacking lightly as he hugged you tighter, part of him wished you meant what mer-people mean when they give rocks, but he knows you arent used to the tradtions and culture in this world
he pulled away slightly and when he saw your confused face he smiled sadly "in merfolk culture you asked me to marry you" he chuckled as you blushed "i want to be the one to give you the rock dear" he mumbled into your hair he pulled away caressing your face before picking you up and taking you to the couch to cuddle.
Azul: he was in his office doing paper work and for the cafe, he was stressed, his hand was starting to cramp from the amout of writing he had been doing. the door to his office opened and you entered, his eyes lit up as he say you, your presence always made him feel better.
"hello my love"
he smiled at you softly, he open his arms for a hug and you wasted no time crawling into his lap and hugging him tightly, he kissed your shoulder, you reached into your pocket and handed him a pretty rock you had found earlier, his faced flushed with a blush
"m-my love? i- i mean y-yes ill marry you, but at least meat my family first, do you have a venue in mind? a dress? i can help you look- wait your not proposing? oh... you dont know do you"
as disappointed as he was that he wasn't going to marry you he chuckled and laughed
"my beloved your little rock was a proposal of marriage"
he smirked at you, watching as you face as you realized what you had done, he kissed you shoulder and cheek again
"just know love.... i will say yes, i will always say yes to you"
a couple days later when you walk into his office you she the rock you gave him on the shelf behind his desk, it was in a glass container, when you asked Azul all he said was
"its special to me, i wish to keep it forever"
End notes:
i had no idea what to do for leona and i think its pretty obvious, but i had fun writing this! its my first time writing for twst characters and i think i did ok... i hope
I am accepting requests :)
#twisted wonderland headcannons#disney twst#twst#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#floyd leech#azul ashengrotto#twst azul#jade leech#twst leona#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#ruggie bucci x reader#twisted wonderland ruggie#ruggie x yuu#jack twst#jack howl#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#twst x reader#twst headcanons#twst fluff
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hey did i tell you guys one of you was in my dream last night
#was a *weird* dream too#i was working at the pool snack bar (haven't worked there in several years also it's january)#(also it was bigger on the inside than the outside)#and i was having chicken. my mutual and i were eating chicken.#her face was very clearly in the dream but because i have not seen her face it was like that weird dream thing where you know something is#a certain way but logically it isn't. like that dream a while ago where the powder room at my house was also a bathroom stall at the rival#high school. anyway tangent over. i could clearly see her face i just have no clue what it looked like#anyway. we were having chicken which the pool snack bar does Not sell. and instead of a fork and knife like a normal meal#i had a fork and what looked like a really fucked-up triangle (the musical instrument)#and when i tried to stab the chicken with the triangle so i could cut part off with the fork it went flying into the pool#which btw was turned 90 degrees and flipped from how it is supposed to be#and then i woke up and it was almost 3pm#i am completely fucking up my sleep schedule. it's 4:30 am as im posting this dw im going to bed soon#and hey if anyone had a dream about me eating chicken in a pool snack bar with them the universe is probably trying to tell us something#oak talks
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pairing: Newey!reader x Lando Noriss
fc: Sydney Sweeney
summary: When Redbull - the team she supported since being a child - didn't want to let her design the 2023 car, she needed to find someone that would. Here came McLaren, which she brought back to life. And maybe she helped one driver, too. Not only behind the wheel.
warnings: swearing, misogynistic comments
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mclaren
liked by ynnewey, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 693 302 others
mclaren Look who's here at the Bahrain Circuit 💋 ynnewey
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ynnewey hello, admin! please take more photos of me when they turn out like this!!!
⤷ mclaren ON IT, BOSS
⤷ landogirly not admin being in love with yn
⤷ mclaren don't act like you're not
maxverstappen1 Traitor.
⤷ ynnewey go away, maximilian. don't you have a test to do?
⤷ maxverstappen1 Done and ready to beat you
⤷ ynnewey it's a long game, babes
⤷ maxverstappen1 We'll see about that
oscarpiastri need to work on that manicure
⤷ ynnewey only if you do one with me
landonorris that's not papaya
⤷ ynnewey I'm learning, landoooo. give me some credit
⤷ landonorris you're new(ey) to it, i get it
⤷ norizzlann that was so bad lando
⤷ formula1fan93 norizz lando at his best
landogirly why is nobody talking about max and yn flirting in the comments?????
⤷ ynneweyfan flirting?? they've been friends for years. and Max is in a relationship
⤷ maxfan93 well, they did date when they were younger
⤷ landogirly NO WAY???? WHY DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT IT??
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f1gossippage
liked by landogirly, ynneweyfan and 14 392 others
f1gossippage YN NEWEY was seen arriving at the McLaren Technology Centre after the rather disastrous Bahrain Grand Prix.
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landogirly yn newey in you we trust 🙏🙏🙏
landonorizz please please please we need upgrades
ynneweyfan yn yn yn our saviour
formula1fan93 can she really upgrade them from those engine failures? it's like building another car
formula1fan99 i so want upgrades because without them max is going to be 20 sec in front of everybody....
hater9 working in that?? yeah sure
⤷ ynneweyfan have you heard of changing rooms? and something called working clothes? and maybe, just maybe thought about not commenting on people's appearances?
hater59 you think she'll help you, McLaren? suuuure
hater83 yet another failure
hater99 what is she even going to do? powder the side of the car and put mascara on it?
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mclaren
liked by ynnewey, landonorris and 301 302 others
mclaren Home race week! And look who is back in the paddock?! Our favourite ynnewey is back with her magic!
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mclaren oh, look! lando and oscar are here, too... hello, boys
ynnewey I'm blushing, admin... where are you??
⤷ mclaren wherever you need me
⤷ ynneweyfan SIMP!
⤷ mclaren ynneweyfan and I am PROUD OF IT
landonorris it's an honour to be remembered when the YN Newey is in the paddock
⤷ oscarpiastri and they even included us in photos!!!!
⤷ ynnewey more enthusiasm, boys
landonorris YN NEWEY IS IN THE PADDOCK????? NO WAY !!!!
⤷ ynnewey that's better, thank you
oscarpiastri HAVE YOU SEEN HER??? QUEEN !!!
⤷ ynnewey you're winning this round Oscar
⤷ landonorris boooo
landogirly MOTHER IS BACK
landogirly mother please say you bring podium worthy upgrades
⤷ ynnewey 👀
ynneweyfan is this yn newey fan account?
⤷ mclaren duh
maxverstappen1 Who are you supporting with that boring outfit?
⤷ ynnewey go away you and your RB merch
⤷ maxverstappen1 Gladly. P1 is awaiting
⤷ landonorris now even a moment without you
⤷ maxverstappen1 Cry about it, I won't see it from the front row
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ynnewey added to her IG story!
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ynnewey
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 409 392 others
ynnewey P2 and P3 after quali and P2 and P4 after the race???? im so proud of my papaya boys!!! oscarpiastri my favourite rookie and landonorris the menace that you are (stop stealing my phone) CONGRATULATIONS 🎉🎉🎉🎉
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oscarpiastri wouldn't be possible without the upgrades you and the team brought us!
⤷ ynnewey now i need you on the podium, i cleared mys storage to take LOTS of photos
⤷ oscarpiastri protect your phone from lando or it's gonna be his face only
⤷ landonorris i have a very nice face to look at, thank you
maxverstappen1 Not even a photo or a word about my win? Are we friends?
⤷ ynnewey people are bored max, go away winning somewhere else
⤷ maxverstappen1 Nah, I like beating your boy
comment deleted
⤷ maxverstappen1 Nah, I like beating your 'papaya boys'
landonorris podium in our home race! LFG BABYYYYYY
⤷ ynnewey please stop taking selfish on my phone
⤷ landonorris i know you love it
landonorris all thanks to you and the team
⤷ ynnewey stop it! or im gonna blush
⤷ landonorris you'll match that pretty lipstick
ynneweyfan WE ARE BACK BABY !!!!
ynneweyfan YN YN YN THE QUEEN THAT YOU ARE
landogirly lando podium after this disastrous beginning of the season???? we are so back
landofan92 so we're not talking about all this flirting in the comments??? my boy is smitten
maxfan93 the way that Max praised YN's job saying that no team has been closer this year to overtake him and make him lose positions
⤷ ynneweyfan he knows what's up!
landoynfan WHY ARE YOU NOT TALKING ABOUT MAX'S DELETED COMMENT? WHO IS HER BOY?????
⤷ landogirly only one true answer - Lando
⤷ ynneweyfan please be true please be true please be true
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f1gossippage
liked by ynneweyfan, landofan02 and 51 202 others
f1gossippage New F1 power couple unlocked? Today, fans spotted McLaren driver, Lando Norris, and McLaren designer, YN Newey, at the Max Verstappen yacht in Monaco!
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ynneweyfan OH GOD
ynneweyfan I don't want to believe rumours and those photos could be taken in an unfortunate moment but my delusion is taking me places
landogrily LANDO HAS GAME TO PULL THE YN NEWEY???
landofan93 is that really them?
f1fan92 is it even legal? don't they work together?
⤷ landofan93 it all depends on company policy, i think
maxandynfan i love how max is their third wheel or the wingman
⤷ ynneweyfan YES! simultaneously being her ex??? i love when people who loved each other once can still manage being friends
⤷ ynsmybestie yn said multiple times that Max is her first love and she could never stop loving him. max said the same about not being able to forget your first love but converting it from the romantic to almost domestic
⤷ ynneweyfan yes! and the way Kelly and P love her is undeniable
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landonorris and ynnewey added to their IG stories!
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Watch: Oscar and Lando take the lie detector test! from McLaren YouTube channel!
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ynnewey and landonorris added to their IG stories!
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ynnewey
liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, landonorris and 602 393 others
ynnewey 💐🫶
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danielricciardo my photos made it to the dump, i know that's right
⤷ ynnewey couldn't resist really, danny
maxverstappen1 IT IS CONFIRMED ?!
⤷ ynnewey this is the most excitement you showed in the last few years
⤷ maxverstappen1 Because you didn't update the situation to me!
⤷ ynnewey Muffins?
⤷ maxverstappen1 😊
oscarpiastri second post in a row to make an appearance 🤗 are you playing favourites?
⤷ ynnewey shhhh, someone might get jealous
landonorris nice flowers
⤷ ynnewey thx!
landogirly STAY CALM STAY CALM STAY CALM
landogirly STAY FREAKING CALM
landogirly MY WIFE IS SOFT LAUNCHING??? AND IT'S NOT ME?
landogirly cannot believe that lando bagged a baddie like yn
ynneweyfan EXCUSE ME
ynneweyfan orange flowers ✔️ cutie patootie boyfriend ✔️ slightly spicy mirror photo ✔️ THIS IS WHAT I CALL THE SOFT LAUNCH
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hater94 oh so now oscar can be sure to be forgotten on new upgrades, eh?
hater03 don't you work together?
hater93 now we know how and why you got the job
⤷ landonorris Hard work, sleepless nights and unimaginable amount of hours studying, understanding and perfecting all the concepts to upgrade our cars to fight for podiums? Yes, this is exactly how and why YN got the job.
⤷ landogirly LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!!!
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landonorris
liked by ynnewey, maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 680 202 others
landonorris nothing soft about us
tagged: ynnewey
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ynnewey what is this caption???
⤷ landonorris come to the living room and find out
⤷ danielricciardo LANDO! you're a baby! STOP IT
⤷ maxverstappen1 That's disgusting.
ynnewey Loooooove youuuu 🫶
⤷ landonorris nah, I love you ❤️
maxverstappen1 You are very welcome. And now stop smooching near me, that's disgusting
⤷ ynnewey boooo
danielricciardo little lando has a girlfriend 🥹
oscarpiastri Favourism!
⤷ landonorris oh shut up
⤷ ynnewey You're still my favourite, Oscah
⤷ landonorris excuse me???
landogirly HARD LAUNCH
ynneweyfan the hottest couple on the paddock
landofan93 yn looking like a goddess she is
liked by landonorris and 1 309 others
landofan84 not him getting a girlfriend before me
landofan02 bagged a baddie and is going to throw it at our faces at any point he gets
⤷ landonorris you are so right
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#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris social media au#lando norris one shot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff
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bodyguardrry x stripper!y/n?
pink pony club
in which harry is a bodyguard at the club y/n dances at
word count: 2.8k
content warnings: spicy content, minor violence, a small unwanted touching scene, smut (thigh riding, spitting, dirty talk, breast play, one "sir" mention, minor slapping......I think that's it gkdfjgkjd)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Harry doesn’t care much about his job.
He’s not all that interested in working night shifts that start at 8:30 p.m. and don’t end until 4 a.m. He’s not tempted by the constant flow of alcohol, the endless lines of powder that decorate the bartop and booth tables, and the half — and sometimes fully — naked girls that make their money by twirling around oiled up stripper poles and sweet-talking businessmen.
His job as a bodyguard is simply a means to an end. A paycheck. A way to survive.
Unless Y/N is working.
The second she started at Pink Pony Club, it felt as if his world brightened up. She emitted an effervescent pink hue everywhere she went, bathing Harry in it with her bright smile and sweet eyes. He’s always kept a special eye on her — while he didn’t care for the logistics of his job, he took the safety of the dancers seriously, and Y/N was no exception. In fact, maybe she was the exception.
He was the only dancer he watched. She was the only one he spoke to. His pretty, shy, pink girl.
When she took one-on-one dances in the Red Room, he was the guard she asked to accompany her. He never minded. No, he dropped everything to be there with her, even if it meant standing there stoically, watching as she grinded on the lap of a man that would tip her too little.
If it were him, he would never take her perfect presence for granted.
He would sit back and let her take her time. Shower her in every compliment his brain could churn out. He’d comply with the strict no touching rule, but god, if his hands wouldn’t tremble at his sides. He’d have to sit on them to stop himself from doing something stupid.
Sometimes, it’s what he wished those grimy men would do. Like this piece of shit, who’s been shelling out hundred after hundred dollar bills to keep Y/N locked away in the Red Room all night. It’s been hours and the guy can barely keep his head up straight. From Harry’s spot in front of the door, he can tell Y/N’s tired and in need of a break. And when the song comes to a crawling end, he’s ready to step in and tell the guy to get lost, but he’s already digging in his pocket for his wallet. Harry grits his teeth as he watches Y/N’s shoulders fall.
“Another one,” the idiot mutters, stuffing three hundred dollars in the waistband of her panties. Y/N jerks away from his touch and the man stills, flashing her a confused expression. “What? I’ve paid you your entire yearly salary tonight and I can’t put some fuckin’ money in your panties?”
Harry’s fists ball up at his sides, already taking heavy strides towards them as Y/N’s mumbling out, “you’re not allowed to touch the girls.”
“Oh, give me a fuckin’ break,” he wails, sending a look of disbelief to Harry, as if he should agree with him. “This girl’s a cocktease!”
Harry snorts and Y/N shuffles off the man’s lap. He stands in front of her, creating a physical barrier between the two.
“You heard her, you’re not allowed to touch any of the girls. Doesn’t matter how much money you’ve paid.” Harry says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you gonna get lost or are we gonna have a problem?”
The guy rolls his eyes. “You’re telling me you’re always here watching over this one and you’ve never once copped a feel? She’s out with her fuckin’ ass and tits out and you—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish whatever disgusting sentence was coming out of his mouth because Harry’s already pulling him up by the shirt collar. The guy yelps as Harry’s strong grip yanks him off the couch and he scoffs, resisting the urge to spit in his face.
“Disgusting piece of shit.” he mutters, throwing him up against the maroon velvet wall. “You know that? You think you can fucking talk about her like she’s some kind of object?”
“She’s a stripper!” he exclaims, raising his hands up in mock defense.
“I don’t fucking care,” Harry growls, “She could be an escort for all I care, but you don’t touch anyone without their fucking permission. Especially her. Do you fucking hear me?”
“Yeah, man, whatever! It’s all good, I promise!”
“Oh, it’s all good?” he mocks, keeping him pushed up against the wall with his hand up against his chest. His other arm cocks back and his hand forms a tight fist, his knuckles white as hot adrenaline courses through his veins. He’s ready to beat this guy until he’s unrecognizable — until he hears it.
A small, quiet whimper of his name.
Immediately, he turns around. Y/N stands behind him, looking small and helpless with glassy eyes. Again, she repeats his name. “Harry,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s not worth it, I don’t wanna lose my job. Just let him go.”
And just like that, he does.
He lowers his fist, his hand unfurls around the cheap fabric of his button-up, and he’s free to go, scrambling out of the Red Room before Harry has the chance to tell the other bodyguards to escort him out. But he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the teary eyed girl with trembling fingers.
“Baby,” he breathes, fear surging through his chest as he wraps a tender arm around her waist. He sits onto the crushed velvet bench and pulls her into his lap, keeping a soothing hand placed at the small of her waist. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
She quickly shakes her head, allowing the tears to flow a bit more freely now. “I-I’m okay. Just scary.”
“I know,” he mumbles, biting his lip. “Was it— did I scare you?”
“No, no. I know you were just… trying to protect me.” she says softly, blinking her eyes at him.
“I was, sweetheart. I promise. I would never do anything to hurt or scare you.”
She nods. “I know.”
“How much longer do you have left of your shift? I can take you home. You shouldn’t be working when you’re upset.”
Y/N glances down at the watch around Harry’s wrist, nibbling on her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s already 2, which means the club closes in less than three hours.
“Just another hour. I can make it,” she replies as she straightens her posture in his grasp. “I’m just… I don’t think I’m ready to go back out there yet.”
“That’s fine. We can stay here as long as you’d like.” And he’d certainly knock out anyone who threatened to give her shit for it.
They sit in silence for a bit and Harry keeps a protective arm looped around her waist the entire time, drawing soft circles into her exposed hip. He feels relief at knowing that she doesn’t express discomfort at being in his arms and frankly, if it were up to him, she’d never leave them.
Harry’s torn from his thoughts when she runs her fingers over the expanse of tattoos that cover his arms. Glancing down, he watches as her manicured nails slowly float from the anchor on his wrist all the way up to the ship on his bicep. He swallows, staying impossibly still as she analyzes the ink. Eventually, she lands on the cursive A on his shoulder.
“Girlfriend?” she asks, peering up at him. He shakes his head.
“Mum,” he murmurs, “Do you have any tattoos?”
Y/N nods. “One.”
Harry’s tongue peeks out to moisten his lips as he maintains heavy-lidded eye contact with her. He’s seen nearly every bit of her skin and prickles form in his stomach, thinking about where her hidden tattoo could be.
“What is it?”
Slowly, she shifts off of his lap to stand in front of him. Using deft fingertips to peel the waistband of her lacey lingerie down, she reveals a simple red rose inked into her skin, just above where her mound begins. Harry swallows harshly at the sight.
“Do you like it?”
Harry huffs out a laugh. “Gorgeous.” he mumbles.
“I was thinking about getting another one,” she breathes as she shimmies the fabric just a bit lower. She taps the small patch of skin across from the rose. “An H, maybe.”
“That would be a silly decision, sweetheart,” he says lowly, leaning back against the bench and spreading his legs a little wider. “You don’t want an initial for the guy who beats up idiot losers.”
“I do, though. I love knowing you’re there to protect me.” she replies. Briskly, she climbs back into his lap, this time straddling his waist and placing her knees on either side of him. As if on instinct, he wraps his arms around her to steady her, pressing one palm to the back of her thigh.
“I’ll always be there to protect you,” he mumbles, chest tightening as she leans closer. Her lips are centimeters away and it makes his breath catch in his throat. His throat bobs as he swallows, angling his head ever so slightly to minimize the small gap between them, and then he whispers: “Stop me if it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” she’s so close to him that her breath ghosts over his plush lips, “Kiss me. Please.”
That’s all he needs to seal their lips, her shaky hands finding purchase at the back of his neck. It feels so special to have her hands on him as their lips meld; slowly at first, and then she’s straightening her back to push her chest forward, desperate to be closer, closer, closer.
It feels like their only source of oxygen is coming from one another. Harry’s hands grip her ass firmly, squeezing the plump skin in his palms. He’s content with keeping things here at a steady PG-13 level until her wet mouth breaks away for just a moment, only long enough to murmur, “touch me, I need it.”
A groan oscillates from his throat as his hands travel down to her neck, her shoulders, her chest, and then finally her breasts. His hands find the covered peaks of her nipples and she inhales sharply, shuddering beneath his touch. He smirks as he settles on the right side of her chest, using his thumb to gently brush over her nipple. She straightens her spine and leans into the sensation as he slowly rubs it back and forth.
"Always gonna keep you safe. You know that?” Harry mumbles into her mouth, licking at the seam of her lips. Her eyes squeeze shut and her thighs threaten to close around his wide, spread legs.
“Uh-huh,” she nearly whines. He swallows as he watches her, noticing her quick descent into desperation. He gives her nipple a soft squeeze before quickly pausing to unhook her bra and toss it to the floor. He resumes his teasing just a moment later, leaning forward and attaching his lips to the hard bud. A quiet, shaky mewl falls from her swollen lips.
He parts with a pop but only to spit messily onto the peak. She gasps when he takes her nipple into his mouth again, hissing as he bites the skin. It’s not hard or long enough to elicit any real pain, just a sweet sizzle in her stomach that makes her tug at the curled ends of his hair. He chuckles softly at her reaction before licking over the bite and tucking the bud back between his lips. Once he’s gotten his fix, he removes his hand from her breast and moves it up to her mouth.
"Open." he commands. As if under a spell, her bottom lip drops open and Harry pushes two of his fingers inside, pressing them down against her tongue. "Dirty little mouth, hm?" He murmurs. She nods submissively and he grins, "Suck."
She closes her lips, encasing his long fingers in her mouth as she begins to slowly bob up and down, taking them further. His fingertips make contact with her throat, eliciting a short gag as the muscles contract slightly around them. Quickly, he removes them. "Did I hurt you?"
She shakes her head and reaches up to wipe away some of the drool that had escaped her mouth.
"No. I like it."
"Are you lying, baby?" He asks, moving her hair over her shoulder, "This isn't fun for me if you're just doing what you think I want."
"I'm not lying, I promise. I like it."
Harry's lips curl into a smirk. "Tell me what else you like, then."
As she opens her mouth, he shifts his thigh between her legs, the muscles flexing firmly against her core. She gasps, though Harry pretends like he hadn't done anything, instead nodding at her shortly; an encouragement to follow his directions.
"I like gagging on your fingers." She whines as he begins to move his thigh back and forth, just slow enough to create some friction between their bodies.
"Yeah? What else do you like?"
"You," she whimpers, gently rocking her hips against his jean-clad thigh, "When you keep me safe.”
"Ah, my pretty baby likes feeling protected?”
She nods as she begins to quicken my movements. He stills her hips but before she has a chance to whine about it, he mumbles out a "budge up, baby" so he can slip her panties off her legs. She resists the urge to hiss at the contact, her stomach tightening at the feeling of his thigh muscle against her. For a moment, he inspects the sodden underwear, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“You made quite the mess in these, baby. What got you so turned on?”
She swallows harshly, her chest shaky. “Y-you. Seeing you threaten that guy for me.”
He smirks but decides to leave it at that, feeling the desperate warmth radiating from her core. "Go 'head," he mumbles, leaning back. "Let me see you use me."
She feels her hole contract at his words, mentally cringing as he chuckles. He feels how needy she is and he absolutely loves it.
Slowly, she starts to grind against his thigh, holding in pathetic whimpers at the solid surface making contact with her clit. Harry tsks when he notices her roll her lips into her mouth. She looks down as he moves his hand towards her lower half, momentarily excited that he’ll pet at her the way she’s craving. The dream is short lived when he parts her pussy lips instead to look at the wet mess between them.
"Don't hide your sounds," he scolds, pressing the pad of his fingertip to her clit, rolling it in small circles. "They're too pretty.”
She nods, prepared to continue her movements when she gasps out in surprise. Harry had delivered a swift slap to her clit — not painful enough to ask him to stop, but just enough to deliver a sizzling sensation to her core.
"Tell me you'll moan for me."
"I will, sir," she whines, rutting helplessly against his hand. He smirks and pinches the skin at her inner thigh before nodding again, a wordless order to continue.
Hesitantly, she rocks her hips, building up a slow and intentional pace that hits her clit at the perfect angle. She’s dripping now, embarrassingly so, and making a mess both between their legs and on Harry's, but she’s too turned on to care. There’s something about knowing he’s watching her get off and doing exactly what he asks of her that sends her to another dimension.
It’s not long before she feels a familiar tightening in her stomach. They’d built each other up and up and up, teasing one another until they could barely stand it, so she’s not surprised when her muscles started to clench, pathetic gasps falling from her swollen lips.
"Is my good girl gonna cum?" Harry teases from beneath her. She nods jerkily, her nails digging into his stomach. "Let me see. Cum all over my leg, baby. Make a mess."
Harry's dirty talk is finally what does her in. With a few more rocks of her hips, she’s in heaven, whimpering out calls of his name as she peaks. He holds her hips to keep me on his leg as she bounces helplessly through her orgasm, her eyes slowly blinking open to find a smirk on his face when she finally begins coming down.
"You're heaven sent, y'know that?" he mumbles.
Y/N laughs breathily as she shakes her head, her blushy gaze falling to his lap. He thumbs at her bottom lip and gently nudges her chin up.
“Lemme take you home tonight,” he whispers, cupping her cheek in his palm, “I wanna take care of you.”
She nods. “Yeah, okay. You’ll wait for me to finish my shift?”
“Of course,” he murmurs as he presses his forehead against hers. “Always.”
#writing#harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles fan fic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles one direction#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#hary styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#one direction#fine line#harry's house#bodyguardrry#i went through ridiculous things to post this#i hope you all like it lmao
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ONE OF THE BOYS
-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]
-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!
Part 1 [Part 2]
-> <-
Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.
“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.
You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”
“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”
Right.
Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.
The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.
Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”
You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.
Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.
“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”
“No, no,” you shake your head.
“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”
“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.
The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”
Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.
“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”
“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”
Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.
“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”
“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”
“It’s my skin-,”
“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”
“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.
-> <-
Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.
Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.
“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.
Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.
“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.
They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.
“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.
Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.
And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!
It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.
No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.
Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.
“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.
“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.
“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”
“Really?!”
“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”
“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”
“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”
You nod. “I’ll be there!”
“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”
Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.
Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.
Whatever story floats.
Eddie strums a sour note.
“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.
Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.
You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.
Practice would resume tomorrow.
And you were forever and eternally frustrated.
-> <-
“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”
Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.
That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.
“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”
“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.
“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.
There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.
You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.
Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.
You knew better.
Yet, here you are.
Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.
“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”
You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.
“There’s this boy-,”
“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.
You wave your hands. “Robin!”
“Go on!”
“I just - I want to grow up a little.”
The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.
“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”
Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”
Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.
“The usual, Eddie?”
Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.
Robin snaps back into reality.
“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”
Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”
“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.
Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!
“What? It’s just Eddie!”
Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.
“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.
Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”
“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”
“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”
You brush your dirty t-shirt.
“Robin-,”
“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.
Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.
“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.
Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”
You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.
“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”
“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.
Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.
“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.
The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.
Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.
“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”
“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”
“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”
“Clues and shit?”
“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”
“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.
“It’ll be fun!”
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”
You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.
“How could you do that?” You shame her.
Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.
“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”
“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”
“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”
“Robin!”
“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.
Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.
“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.
Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”
No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.
You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.
“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.
Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.
“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.
You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”
“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”
You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”
Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.
“Hey!” You protest.
She pauses. “Right, put it on.”
“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”
“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”
You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”
“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”
You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.
“Makeup!” Robin insists.
Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.
Lip gloss that tasted like honey-
“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”
You take a spin in the mirror.
“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.
Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”
You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.
Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.
Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.
You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.
You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!
You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.
“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.
You knew it.
“Erm-,”
“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”
Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”
You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?
“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.
“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”
“The guys?” You blurt.
“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”
“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.
In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.
“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”
“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.
A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.
“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”
Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.
She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.
“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.
You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.
A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.
“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”
Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.
“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”
“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”
You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.
“It’s stupid,” you tell him.
Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”
You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.
“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.
Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”
“Really?”
“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”
Your cheeks heat up.
“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”
You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”
He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”
You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Erm- you know.”
“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”
You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.
“We should clean up,” you tell him.
Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”
You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”
“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”
“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”
“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."
"You caught onto that?"
"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."
"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.
"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."
Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.
The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.
Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson preference#angst
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summary: When Finnick notices how the reader's drink has been spiked with sex pollen at one of President Snows Balls, he and Peeta make a plan to save her from the special services the victors sometimes provide for the capitol. Finnick causes a distraction, while Peeta makes sure to take the reader away to safety, only the plan doesn’t go accordingly, and ends up with a sex crazed reader stuck on a closet.
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Warnings: sexual content, slight dubious consent, fingering, lots of praise, dom!Peeta??, reader under sex pollen
Notes: This is my first attempt at a shortfic about Peeta Mellark, as I have been quite obsessed with him lately
This story is a short fic with little to no plot, so, enjoy the smut ;)
For any weird grammar mistake, feel free to correct me for as inglish isn't my first lenguage!
Word count: 6.6k
Giff: @xiaolanhua
Finnick cursed out loud, grabbing the attention of some of the most important and exclusive people in Panem who were nearby. They began to chuckle and whisper among themselves in return, clearly enjoying the sudden outburst of District’s four beloved victor. Peeta, on the other hand, quickly realized something was wrong, politely ending the conversation with an all too eager sponsor who was in the midst of trying to convince him to go back to her room together. She was old, caked with so much makeup her features were almost unrecognizable. Staring at her for too long made Peeta feel uneasy, as if he were in a fever dream, where everything was washed in an eerie distortion, almost normal but not quite.
“Are you okay?” was the first thing he said once he got to Finnick’s side, standing beside one of the absurdly food collapsed tables at one of the ballrooms corners. He was holding a glass filled with sweet smelling liquor, his hand so tightly wrapped around it his knuckles were turning white. Peeta was sure it was going to burst into pieces in just a matter of seconds, so he quickly reached for Finnick’s hand, surprised to find little to no resistance as he took the glass away and set it on the table. The motion seemed to snap Finnick out of whatever trance he had been in, blinking at Peeta as if he were just now assessing his presence there.
“What?” was all he could manage to say, his eyes returning their focus to something far away, the feather of a muscle twitching as he grounded his jaw.
“What's wrong?” Peeta pushed, following the man's gaze in an attempt to understand what he was seeing that was making him so mad. Finnick had a temper, Peeta knew that, but it was always tightly concealed in that calm and easy-going facade he portrayed, his armor against everything. It took quite an effort to make him lose his composure.
“(y/n)” He answered, voice made of steel. Peeta frowned, eyes desperately trying to find what was going on, his chest tightening at the mention of your name, “They dosed her drink with an aphrodisiac powder.”
Peeta’s whole body froze, his eyes snapping back to the man beside him.
“What do you mean aphrodisiac powder, what the hell even is that?”
But Peeta could already imagine what it meant, what they were doing it for. Anger rose in his blood like fire, pumping into his heart, beating so fast it was starting to make it hard for him to breathe -
“Finnick” He managed to get out, hand coming up to grab the man’s arm, turning him to face him.
“I recognized this man talking to Snow earlier” Finnick began, his eyes closing as one of his hands came to massage his temple, as if a piercing headache was making it hard for him to think “He is the one who arranges the customers for-,” he took a deep breath before opening his eyes to meet Peeta's wide ones “ the special services from the victors the capitol sometimes provides”
His stomach churned in a way that threatened to make Peeta vomit every expensive item of food he had ingested tonight, right on the pristine marble floor. He knew exactly what Finnick was talking about. Haymitch had told him about this business Snow ran, a way for him to further control the victors, make them pay for whatever rule breaking he deemed was done on their game, threatening their family’s life as a cost of it. But (y/n) had won fair, she had outsmarted the players, not the capitol, she didn't deserve this, she-
“I have been watching this man all evening, analyzing his moves, trying to figure out who Snow had sold to him,” Finnick continued, interrupting Peeta’s running thoughts. “It was easy enough to discover, with the way he has been practically stalking (y/n) all night.” An exasperated sigh escaped his lips “But something is different this time. He hasn't come up to talk to her and she is completely oblivious to him, as if she doesn't know what Snow has done, as if she hasn't been warned what would happen if she denies”
Her family, massacred. Peeta swallowed, his throat painfully dry all of a sudden.
“That’s when I noticed what he was doing” Finnick’s hands bawled into fists by his sides, his eyes returning to scan the room before returning to Peeta’s, “They are drugging her, filling her with aphrodisiac poison that will make her unable to think of anything more than sex. They are making her into a puppet so they can take advantage of her, avoiding the resistance, the threats, the compromise on her part.”
“That is sick” Peeta breathed out, feeling lightheaded and utterly disgusted.
“People here in the capitol are absolutely rotten” Finnick spat, “I have been a victim of that drug before. It is so potent, it makes it physically painful to deny sex, it forces the body to need it on a primal level, triggering an almost survival instinct.”
Peeta cringed at the thought of Finnick, barely a teen, being a subject to all this.
“We have to do something, we have to save her” Peeta rushed through whispered words, his eyes looking around them in search of anyone who could be eavesdropping on their conversation.
“Yes” Finnick agreed, “But we must do it inconspicuously, or they could end up hurting her even more.”
“What is your plan?” Peeta’s breathing eased a little, his chest loosening at the reminder of Finnick’s clever mind.
“Once the effects of the drugs kick in, she will quickly excuse herself to the bathroom. There, I will intercept the man, distract him. Make a big scene if I must.” The ghost of a smirk pulled at Finnick’s lips at the thought, before it was quickly wiped away as he continued “You will find (y/n) and get her the hell out of here, but not to her room. They will be probably expecting her there” Peeta shuddered at the thought, nodding at Finnick.
“Where is she now?” Peeta inquired, his eyes returning to the crowd, unable to find the girl in question.
“Near Snow’s fountain, to the left side of the room. She is talking to a man with a neon green top hat.”
Peeta found you instantly then, the loud pounding of his heart in his ears drowning any other sound. You looked so beautiful, he couldn't help to notice, with your hair pulled away from your face in an elegant updo, filled with colored jewels that caught and reflected every light on the ball room, like a beacon. Your dress was made of black jewels as well, hugging every hill and dip of your body in an exquisite way, a slit on the side of your hip revealing the tan skin of your right leg. And your smile, so bright as you laughed at some joke the man before you had uttered, it took his breath away- until he realized how your chest was moving rapidly, as if the air entering your lungs wasn't enough, at how your skin was covered in a sheen of sweet, some stray away hairs curling around the nape of your neck and around your face, and at the way your hands had begun to tremble, hiding the away by clasping them tightly behind your back.
“It is starting,” Finnick commented, straightening his shoulders as if preparing himself to move. Peeta did the same, struggling to calm his fast beating heart.
You offered the man another smile, this one polite, apologetic. The man dipped his head and moved out of your way, allowing you to begin moving into the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, towards the other side of the room, where the bathrooms were located. Finnick nodded at Peeta, signaling to start moving the same way as you. They got to there first, and Finnick leaned forward to whisper right on Peeta’s ear, in a gesture that seemed like a warm goodbye from a friend to the ignorant eye.
“I will go for the man, you grab (y/n) and leave right away, don't waste time on explanations until you are both alone and safe.”
Peeta nodded, clasping his back as reassurance. He could do this, he told himself, willing his body to calm down, to gather his anxious thoughts.
Before Finnick finally pulled away, he added in a tense, almost somber tone, so lowly his words almost got forgotten among the chattering crowd.
“Do what you must to help her, she’ll be glad it was you and not someone else.”
Peeta’s brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask what Finnick meant by that, he was already being swallowed by the crowd, disappearing among the vibrant colors, the moving bodies, the discordant music that made Peeta’s teeth greet in discomfort.
Peeta moved onto the side of the bathroom door, acting as if his shoelace had been untied and crouching down to fix it, avoiding anyone starting a conversation with him that could complicate his inconspicuous escape.
It only took a couple of minutes before he heard your voice,
“S-Sorry, excuse me please” You sounded breathless, words tight in your throat, as if the mere effort to get them out was painful.
Peeta got up then, instantly identifying you making your way out of the crowd in a desperate attempt to get to the bathroom. He walked up to you just as you took the door handle in your shaky hand, grabbing your wrist in a secure grip before pulling you along with him, without stopping to say anything. You gasped in shock, stumbling slightly over your feet before you could manage to keep up with his fast pace. You pulled at his hand in an attempt to be let go, but he ignored you, mind only focused on one thing-
The exit door, only a couple of steps away
“Peeta!” you exclaimed as you finally recognized him, struggling to maintain a composure, smile wavering between a frown and a grimace of pain “What the fuck are you doing?” you whispered, feeling as though your vision was shaking, not being able to see people anymore, just shapes and colors merging together in a sickening spin-
You were going to throw up.
“I’m going to be sick” you pleaded, arm now falling limp on his firm grip, deciding to leave fate in his hands- unable to do anything to resist, and knowing deep down Peeta would never hurt you.
Peeta’s heart squeezed on his chest as he heard you, and he opened his mouth to explain -what? he did not know- anything to make you feel better, to help you understand what was going on,
But then a crushing sound vibrated across the room, making people gasp and scream in shock, their attention now focused on the other side of the room.
Finnick
Peeta let out a sigh of relief as he got to the entrance door, which was luckily open, not a peacekeeper in sight. He didn't waste a second to pull you out towards the main hall, where the elevator to the victor's rooms was.
“It will be alright (y/n), I promise” Peeta finally spoke, his voice just above a whisper, as he continued his way with unbreakable determination, both of your steps resonating against the glass floor the only sound in the spacious room “just trust me, okay?”
You felt as if Peeta’s voice was coming from underwater, muffled and far away- But still managed to understand.
“Okay” You replied, unable to voice any other word running through your dizzy brain - Your heart, you realized, it was beating so fast you couldn't catch a breath, and your skin, it felt so uncomfortable, so tight against your body- you wanted to rip it out. And the heat, the fucking heat
Peeta’s hand freed your wrist as he pressed the elevator’s button in a frantic pace, his other coming up to grip your hip, pushing so you stood in front of him, blocking the view of your body with his.
You were so close now, bodies almost pressed together. His smell invaded you like the most intoxicating, addictive perfume you had ever sensed, tightening your chest in a silent hitch of breath - And his touch- so firm and strong, fingers pressing down on the overly sensitive flesh on your hip witch was barely covered in the thin material of your jeweled gown- it set flames through your veins
Peeta heard the rush of voices coming down the hall, right from where you had come, before he felt their quick heels clad steps coming closer. Whatever Finnick had done, it had set a commotion enough to make people begin to retreat to their chambers in a hurry.
His eyes snapped to the elevator, the bright gold number still stuck on the 7th floor, and he realized it wasn't going to come by quick enough - They were already nearing the corner, they were going to catch the both of you, they were going to take you away and hurt you-
He secured your hand in his before he began to pull you further down the hall, your feet struggling to find their footing but managing not to stumble over them as you followed him. There was only one door in the hall, right on the end of it, a black metal block painted in bright gold. Peeta didn't bother to knock on it as he grabbed the handle, twisting it at the same time he pushed the side of his body on it to open it- and to his surprise and utter relief- it did. He didn't waste a second to push you inside, head twisting back one last time to see down the hall, where he noticed a couple of people beginning to appear, their vibrant colors striking against the pristine white walls and gold floor details.
He closed the door behind him, leaving out the light from the hall, engulfing you both in complete darkness. He let out a long breath, his head dropping back against the door frame, a chuckle leaving his chest before he could stop it.
You tried to blink back the darkness, but your eyes were still struggling to adjust. Something was very wrong, you realized, as you couldn't seem to make the air from the space enter your lungs. You stepped back from the man in front of you in an attempt to gain some distance and ground yourself, but you felt the cool jab of metal meet your back- you twisted on the spot, freeing your hand from Peeta’s as you extended your arms in front of you. And you felt, to your utter horror, how on every side you were met with metal railings or the cool feeling of painted concrete walls.
The space was tiny. A closet, of some sorts, you figured with a leap of your heart.
“I can't” you gasped aloud, one hand coming up to clutch your chest, pulling at the absurd number of necklaces that had been wrapped around your neck- it felt as if you were choking “I can't breathe.”
Peeta’s hands were instantly extended in search of you, his eyes wide in an attempt to see something, but only being met with darkness.
“It is okay, hey, I’m here” He whispered, one of his hands brushing your shoulder. The contact made electricity run down your body, and you twisted in an attempt to get away from his touch, managing only to bump into the railing so hard, their contents began to fall onto the floor-
Peta cursed under his breath at the loud sound of stuff crashing against the glass floor, his heart drumming onto his chest as he felt the footsteps from outside alarmingly close.
“Hey, hey calm down” He tried again, his hand grabbing your shoulder this time. And you tried to twist away again, desperate to get away from the warmth, the heat of his body, his burning touch-
it was too much, too much
You pushed into the railing again making it crash against the wall in a loud bang.
“(y/n)” Peeta rushed, his voice tight on his chest in anxiousness. But you didn't hear him, wouldn't hear him, needing to get away, desperately trying to do so-
Peeta felt the voices outside begin to wonder what those noises down the hall were, their loud cackling dimming down as if to hear better. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before somebody came up to investigate,
“Calm down” He ordered, voice low, almost a murmur. You could feel it vibrating on your chest, “We have to stay quiet, or they will find us.”
You tried to reason with his words, to obey, to understand what the fuck was going on - but then a pang of pain shot down your belly, taking the air from your lungs in a rush of a breath, before settling in a tight coil of aching between your legs. It made a whine fall from your lips before you could stop it, eyes closing as you hugged your body tightly.
Peeta’s heart stopped when he felt nearing footsteps, arms shooting forward when he heard your loud whine of pain at the same time, determined now to make you quiet. One hand found your hip as the other your arm, and he didn't waste a second to twist your bodies, so you stood with your back pressed to his chest. One of his strong arms circled your waist, locking you into him in a grip so tight you couldn't move an inch, as his other hand came to your face, palm pressing onto your mouth to silence any noise.
And just like that, your senses cleared, they sharpened, they focused and circled on only one thing-
Him.
The way his warm body was pressed to yours, the feeling of his strong muscled arm wrapped around your waist, the way his chest pushed against you in every intake of breath, the feeling of his heart pounding so loud and fast against your back- and his god damn smell, so sweet and dark and intoxicating- it made the coil deep within your core tighten painfully, breath hitching on your throat.
Peeta strained his ear to hear whatever was going on outside, the footsteps stopping just inches away, its shadow casting beneath the door frame. But it was so hard to concentrate on anything else that the way for body felt pressed to his - so warm he thought you might be having a fever- and the way you were breathing so hard and fast, you were panting against his hand- but he could notice, he could see how much you were trying to do as he said, to stay still and be quiet, even if you were in so much discomfort
“That’s it, calm down” He whispered, lowering his head so his lips were pressed to your ear, making sure only you could hear him. “You are doing so good” he praised, the words warm against your skin.
The way he phrased those words was enough to make a shiver run through your spine and make your head spin with desire. You hadn't noticed the way you had begun to press further onto him, almost as if desperate to be closer, to feel him even further. And his hand, his fucking hand had begun to rub the side of your waist in a comforting way,
You were melting. But you wanted more, you needed more-
Peeta tried to ignore the way you had begun to move against him, how your breathing had changed to something deeper, how your mouth let slip little whines and moans against his hand. He knew it was the drug's effect, he knew you couldn't help it, he knew he had to maintain a clear head, to take care of you and make sure you stayed safe.
And then you felt it, as you ground your body against his, you felt something hard begin to press against your ass. It made something in you snap, a need so desperate and maddening, it made fire rush through your veins as if boiling from the inside out- it made your brain drunk and fuzzy with desire- and the pain, the excruciating coil tightening between your legs, it was too much, too much.
Peeta felt your hand suddenly grip his, moving his arm away from your hip. He felt almost in a daze, as if unable to stop you as you moved it down your body. His breath hitched in your ear as you pressed his hand right between your legs, where you needed him the most. The thin material of your jeweled gown was the only thing standing between his fingers and your pussy- he could feel how warm you were, and cursed aloud when he noticed also how wet.
“We can't” He whispered; voice slightly breaking as he felt you increase the pressure of his fingers “They have drugged you with an aphrodisiac. You are not thinking straight-”
A moan slipped through your lips, muffled by his hand still pressed against your mouth. Peeta's eyes strained on the doorframe, noticing the shadow gone. He almost sighed in relief, until he felt the loud chuckles coming from outside-
they were still there.
Your brain couldn't comprehend anything else but the need for him. A need that was becoming so strong, the pain was unbearable. You could feel tears swell in your eyes as you gasped, your other hand coming up to push away his own from your mouth.
“Please, Peeta, I can't take this anymore- I” you choked on a whine when you felt his other hand slip from away from your body “-I need you, please, just help me.”
You pleaded, head dropping back against his shoulder in utter defeat.
Peeta cursed again, eyes tightening shut as he searched for the will to contain himself, to find a way to reason with you, to make you understand how this was so wrong-
But then he remembered Finnick's words. ‘Do what you must to help her,’ what did he even mean? Was this the only way you could go through this? You would hate him for it, Peeta thought, taking advantage of you like this- but you were in pain, you were literally crying and shaking in his arms, he couldn't stand seeing you like this, it was breaking him-
“Please” you whined, your own hand coming between your legs to relieve some of the pressure there in a futile attempt- you felt absolutely nothing.
“Okay” he murmured against your ear, telling it more to himself than to you, making up his mind. “How can I help you, (y/n), just tell me how.”
You sigh in relief at his words, closing your eyes in anticipation.
“Touch me” you whispered, breathless “Please.”
Peeta felt lightheaded with the way you were so desperate, so needy for him. In any other circumstance, he would have given away with the first please ever uttered from your beautiful lips- because you were always so composed, so strong, so unwavering- hearing you like this was making him almost as desperate for you as you were for him.
“Please what?” Peeta couldn't help to reply, his voice just as breathless as yours, beginning to move his arms, tentatively resting his hands on your hips.
You groaned in frustration, beginning to push yourself away from him so you could turn around to face him when you felt one of his strong hands spread across your abdomen, pushing you right back against him. He was so strong, you couldn't help but think, imagining his hands pushing and pulling other parts, handling you as if it were nothing-
“Please, Peeta” you begged.
Peeta melted at the sound of those tight words in your throat.
“So polite” he praised, finally moving one hand to the side of your hip where the slit of your gown began. His callous warm fingers met your bare skin there and you sighed in content “Such a good girl” he whispered, mouth pressing down just below your right earlobe, in that sensitive spot that felt to good it sent tingles down your body and made you moan out loud before you could stop it-
Peeta’s other hand instantly moved to cover your mouth once again, roughly pushing your head back against his shoulder.
“What was that?” A woman’s voice exclaimed from the hall outside, filled with delight “Sounds like someone’s having a good time!”
Peeta cursed on your ear, the words sounding even more coarse coming out of his mouth.
You whimpered, unable to take the pain between your legs any longer- your heart was beating so fast, it seemed as if you couldn't catch your breath, your skin so taut you thought it might snap over your bones, and the heat- you thought you might pass out
“Shh it’s okay” Peeta tried to calm you, his eyes glued to the shadows now outside of your door. Had they figured someone was inside here? “Be quiet doll, you can do it.”
You nodded your head in a haze, desperate to show him you would do anything he said.
Peeta knew you couldn't take it any longer, practically limp in his arms, trembling in his grip. He took in a shaky deep breath before he began to move the hand on your hip underneath the surprisingly thin material of your gown. Your skin was so smooth and soft, and so, so warm- Peeta had to take a minute to just caress between your hip and upper thigh, savoring the feeling of your tender flesh beneath his rough fingers - before he heard your impatient cry from within his hand covering your mouth. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed the shadows beneath the door begin to move away, using the courage to finally dip his fingers between your thighs. His breath hitched when he noticed you didn't have anything under your gown, being met with your bare pussy right beneath his finger, hand freezing in place as the realization of what he was doing, and to whom, dawned on him.
He was about to fuck (y/n), districts four beloved 73rd hunger games victor.
“You are killing me” you mumbled against his palm, desperately pushing your hips forward in an attempt to increase the pressure of his fingers where you needed him most. So, he dipped his hand further, his muscled arm tensing over your belly as he did, bringing you flushed against him. And his fingers, ever so slowly, began to part your folds, his eyes closing as his head dropped down to lean on your shoulders at the feeling of your slick coating his fingers, smoothing his entrance. You bit his hand in an attempt to quiet the moan bubbling on your chest, head pushing back against his shoulder in an attempt to get a grip on yourself.
“So good” he murmured, lips tightly pressed to your ear “So good, so quiet.”
You could feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as he began to rub your wetness up and down, right over the bundle of nerves that send electric waves of pleasure down your body. One of your hands came down to grip his arm, pushing it down with further force- Peeta instantly knew what you wanted, what it meant- and he obliged, increasing the pressure and pace of his fingers.
The people outside began to cheer for something, the noise followed by clapping. Peeta didn't waste a second to remove his hand against your mouth, moving it down to your chin as he pushed your head further back, adjusting so his ear was right over your mouth-
“Let me hear you doll” He breathed, his fingers quickening their pace almost desperately so- feeling so good it made your toes curl and your thighs squeeze around his hand. And you moaned, so desperate and needy it would have embarrassed you if it weren't for the fact that that was exactly how you felt for him.
“Peeta” you choked out in a gasp right on his ear, and that was enough to make Peeta lose his mind, a low groan escaping from his own lips, the sound so deep and hoarse it vibrated on his chest.
You could feel his erection pressed on your backside, so hard you knew we wanted you just as much at the moment. And you wanted to feel him, God, it was all you could have ever wanted, so you started to move your hand to your back- until you felt his hand suddenly stop, making you freeze in place. You could hear his ragged breathing, feel his heart pounding against your back-
“Look at me,” He whispered, interrupting the sudden silence. You opened your eyes, surprised to notice how they had adjusted to the darkness, able to see the outlines of the door, the metal railing filled with cleaning supplies- you were in fact, in a closet. And then you looked up, finding his beautiful face before you.
He was so handsome; you had noticed that the first time you saw him. With his big, deep brown eyes and breathtaking smile. And now, with his messy blonde hair, his parted soft lips, his completely darkened eyes-
He looked delicious.
“You are absolutely beautiful” he murmured, the hand on your chin moving up to cup the side of your face. “(y/n)” he continued, a deep breath leaving his lips, fanning your own. You wanted to taste him so badly “You are not on your right mind, this is not what you want.”
You shook your head, exasperated.
“I want you so badly” you voiced in a shuddering breath “If you don't touch me right now, I think I might die.”
You used his stun position to free from his grasp, finally turning so you were face to face. He looked completely disheveled, his white tux discarded on the floor, and his matching shirt completely wrinkled, the first buttons torn and revealing a slit of tanned skin.
“I-” He began but you couldn't resist any longer, shutting him up with a kiss.
His hands were on you instantly, pulling at your hips to position you flush against him, to then wrap his arms around your waist to lock you in place. Your hand snaked to the back of his head, where you tangled them on his hair, slightly pulling it just to hear him groan again- it felt like fuel to the fire inside you. You used the moment to deepen the kiss, meeting his warm tongue inside his mouth. The kiss was desperate, hungry, lips moving feverishly against each other.
Peeta forgot about everything else, about the people on the other side of the door, about getting caught- he could only think about you, about feeling you against him, your lips on his, your tongue on his mouth- he wanted more. His hands began to roam your body, testing, feeling, kneading your soft flesh in a grip so strong you knew would certainly leave bruises. And then they were on your ass, squeezing so tight you moaned against his mouth- and he was lifting you up from the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist-
“I need you” You panted against his lips, finally breaking the kiss. The coil in your lower stomach feeling even more unbearable, the pain was making you see white dots in the corner of your vision “I need you inside me.”
Peeta leaned his forehead to yours, attempting to regain control of himself, to think straight. He sat your body against the railing, separating enough so he could see your face, meet your eyes.
And he stared at you, almost in awe before he spoke again, dropping his head back as if to force himself to stop doing it any longer.
“Your eyes” he breathed out, “they shine so black when you are hot for me.”
You cupped his face between your warm hands, forcing him to face you as you once again begged-
“please”
Peeta wanted nothing more than to oblige - he would have lifted your gown and fucked you right there against the railings- but he knew he couldn’t. He couldn't, not when you were under the effects of a drug that altered your senses, your reasoning.
So, he compromised. Not doing anything was torture to you, or so he told himself, moving so one of his arms could fit between both of your bodies while the other began to lift your gown and gather it just over your hips.
“Are you going to be a good girl and stay quiet?” He panted, his ears once again registering the commotion outside. Seemed like they moved the party to the hall, he realized, glad that the noise had gone louder, hiding what was going on in the little storage closet down the corridor.
“Yes” you whimpered, unable to contain the tears swelling in your eyes due to the pain, and the excitement-
Such a wreck for him, Peeta thought, brain drunk in desire.
“You are the one killing me, (y/n)” he murmured, holding your gaze with eyes so intense you thought he might be looking through you.
And then his hand was between your legs again, slowly rubbing your wet folds, surprised at how they were more so than before. He quicken up the pace faster this time, taking his time in enjoying every sinful sound falling from your lips, your head falling back to lean against the railing- you gasped when you felt his other hand grip your chin, thumb and index finger pressing against your cheeks and forcing you to open your eyes
“Look at me” he panted, and you thought you might cum just by the way he was looking at you with so much hunger-
And then you gasped in shock as without a warning two of his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb continuing to rub on your sensitive clit. Pleasure shocked through your body making you involuntary shake against the rails, the pressure on your lower abdomen coiling impossibly tighter-
“I'm gonna-” you whined, head leaning forward to try and find somewhere to lean on, but Peeta’s grip held you there on place, forcing you to face him.
“Say please” He breathed, lips hovering over yours, his fingers moving in and out of you with the perfect pressure, the perfect pace, and his thumb-
“Peeta” you whimpered.
He could feel how close you were, how your walls clenched around his fingers in the most delicious way- he thought he was close himself to climax, just by the way your face scrunched with pleasure, how your body became undone under his touch-
“Come on doll, ask nicely” He encouraged, needing to hear you beg, just one more time.
“Please” you managed moan.
And he was merciless about it, plunging his fingers into you harder, faster, his thumb rubbing against your clit feverishly, curling his fingers and hitting just the perfect spot-
You become undone with his name on your lips, waves of pleasure erupting from deep within your tummy as the tight coil finally released, toes curling and body jerking. He slowed the pace of his fingers as he continued to ride you out of your orgasm, your shaking body finally collapsing into his, blind with gratification and exhaustion.
Peeta panted against your ear as he finally removed his fingers from inside you, proceeding to hold you tight against him before he lowered you from the railing back onto your feet- until he quickly realized you couldn't stand on your own, arms wrapping securely around your waist and across your back to hold you in place, your own coming up to snake around his neck in a solid embrace.
“Are you alright?” He whispered, his breathing still ragged, heart pounding loudly against your chest pressed to his- you on the other hand, were completely crashing, blood pressure dropping, white stars dancing in the back of your close eyelids.
“hmm” you hummed, struggling to remain conscious.
“I think they left” Peeta voiced his thoughts, frowning in concentration as he listened for any noise outside- but it was completely quiet, he soon realized.
You didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, brain completely fogged with satisfaction, body finally out of pain and completely relaxed on his arms, as if meant to be there all along.
“(y/n)” Peeta shook you, his tone finally above a whisper “Hey, I need you to stay here yeah? stay with me.”
You tried to nod but your head just fell limp against his shoulder-
He smelled so fucking good.
“Thank you?” He replied, amusement clear on his breathless words.
You hadn't realized you had voiced your thoughts out loud, a soft chuckle scaping your lips.
“You are completely out of it, aren't you” He sighed, leaning over you so he rested his chin on top of your head, attempting to calm himself down.
You frowned at the height difference, moving your feet, and realizing you were barefoot, heels completely lost somewhere in the tiny closet.
Once Peeta finally could catch his breath, heart in a slightly normal pace, he stepped closer to the door, your almost limp body secure in his strong arms. He pushed the side of his face flat against the cool metal, concentrating on identifying any sound that could indicate someone on the other side but-
Nothing. Silence.
“Okay” He murmured, nodding “Okay, we are going to come out, yes?”
You mumbled a reply, what? you didn't know, but it was enough to make Peeta nod again. You felt him loosen his grip on you making you react on clinging to him with all your strength, desperate to avoid the loss of contact.
“Hey, I’m here, I won't leave you” He assured you, hands pushing you by the hips to create some space between the two- and you were so completely weak, barely registering your body at all, that you couldn't avoid the separation.
You frowned, opening your mouth to try and object, when you were suddenly being lifted from the ground and up on his arms again, this time in bridal style, with one of his arms holding under your knees as the other secured around your back.
“Romantic” you gushed, chuckling again.
Peeta rolled his eyes, sheepish smile tugging at his lips, as he adjusted his body so his hand could twist the handle and open the door. He loosens a breath he didn't know had been holding as he registered the hall with quick assessing eyes, noticing it completely deserted.
You tried to blink at the sudden light, but it took just a couple of blinks before your eyes dropped closed again, as if the weight of them was impossible to overcome.
“Your room is not safe” He murmured, beginning to make his way to the elevator with you tightly held on to his arms “We will go to mine.”
You nodded, the pull of unconsciousness so strong you were sure it was only a matter of seconds before you were out- so you snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms across his neck and positioning your face right at the nape of his neck, where his smell washed over you and his warmth seeped to your skin.
And just like that, you were out with a content smile plastered on your face.
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silent treatment
words: 900
warnings: drug dealer rafe, established relationship, arguing but its very fluffy throughout and never actually serious
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl
“rafey, are you almost done?” you ask, causing him to turn his head to look at you for the first time since you both entered the party and parted ways for rafe to do business.
“come here, baby.” rafe beckons you closer, so you cross the line of people waiting and take a seat on the couch next to rafe. “what's wrong?”
“nothing's wrong, i just miss you.” you pout, lacing your fingers through rafes. “i know you're selling right now but i thought we would be able to hang out tonight.”
rafe looks at the line of people waiting, then down at his stash. “im almost sold out, yeah? think you can wait ten more minutes?”
“can i sit here?” you ask, and when rafe nods you curl up against his side. he has to shake your hand loose as the next person walks up, buying some drugs that rafe would never in his life let you touch, but had no problem selling to other people.
you busy yourself with playing with a loose strand on rafes shorts as the packets in front of him dwindle down to only one small baggie of white powder left. rafe pockets it, shooing the rest of the people waiting away, telling them to come find him at the next party.
just when rafe finishes counting the money and you expect to get up and actually enjoy the party with your boyfriend, barry takes a seat on the armchair across from you.
“how was tonight?” he asks.
“sold it all, kept a baggie for myself.” rafe splits the money and hands most of it to barry for getting him the supply, pocketing the rest for himself.
“im getting a new shipment in tuesday-” you stop listening as they start to talk business again, linking your hand with rafes and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. you begin to stroke his arm with your other hand, craving any sort of attention from him.
“baby, stop, you're distracting me.” rafe says, pulling his hand out of your grip.
“sorry.” you whisper, looking between barry and rafe, wondering how much longer they're going to take.
“can i sit on your lap?” you ask, knowing rafe doesn't care about others seeing your pda so he shouldn't mind, he's let you sit on his lap in the past, he's even pulled you onto it himself.
rafe sighs, rubbing his forehead before sitting back, pulling you onto his knee so you're purched on the edge.
you groan, knowing that this isn't what you asked for as you turn to frown at rafe.
“baby, why are you being so clingy tonight?” rafe asks, pulling you by your waist into him so your side is pressed against his chest.
“im not.” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.
“yeah, you definitely are. won't even let me talk to barry for ten minutes without getting all whiney.” rafe says, a small smile on his face, but it doesn't placate you, it just annoys you.
you stand up, moving away from rafe and leaving him to do whatever the fuck he wants with barry.
--
“baby, you didn't talk to me all night, please don't give me the silent treatment again today too.” rafe says, attempting to press a kiss to your shoulder, but you just move away to continue making pancakes. rafe keeps his eyes on you as you move about the kitchen.
you plate your pancakes, leaving the rest for rafe to get himself if he wants them and walk into the dining room. you're glad for the music you put on to drown out the silence at rafe sits across the table with his own plate.
you eat without looking up at him, somehow able to keep yourself quiet.
“so you're giving me the silent treatment but still made enough pancakes for me?” rafe asks.
you simply shrug, getting up to finish your pancakes in the kitchen.
“here, let me do the dishes.” rafe comes barging into the kitchen, interrupting you from beginning to clean. you simply shrug and walk away, not even giving him a thank you. you listen to him start to clean up, snickering silently at his grumblings to himself before heading upstairs to get changed.
“what are your plans for today?” rafe asks when you reemerge downstairs, wearing a simple outfit of leggings and a t-shirt. you give rafe a pointed look, one to reinforce the fact that you are not speaking to him before walking away.
rafe leaves you alone for a few hours when he is in the home gym working out. you peak through the glass doors a few times to admire his sweat sheened muscles, but don't let him catch you and go back to scrolling on your phone on the couch when he starts to clean up.
“im gonna go shower.” rafe calls as he passes through the living room. “care to join me?”
“no.” you call back.
you hear rafe stop in his tracks, halting and turning back to face you. “you just talked to me.”
“that doesn't cou-AHHH!” you shout as rafe jumps over the couch, dropping his body over yours as he presses kisses to your face, your phone long forgotten as it falls to the floor.
“im still mad at you, fuck off.” you say, but giggle the entire time, unable to resist his kisses.
“baby, you can tell me to fuck off or that you're mad all you want, just never ever give me the silent treatment again, i was going crazy.” rafe presses your lips together in a kiss and you give in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
“it sounds like you're the clingy one now.” you grin at him.
“absolutely.” rafe nods in agreement.
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